Kiss of Steele (The Royal Occult Bureau Book 9) by Barbara Russell

Author:Barbara Russell [Russell, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver Heber Books
Published: 2025-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

NINE

MR OLIVER GEORGE had a thin, long nose that tended to stick into other people’s business as I came to learn rather quickly.

After I tried—and failed—to extract information from Rennie about the Royal Occult Bureau and the reason Oliver was with us—was he an expert in catching elusive men on board a ship?—I sat at the dining table with him. Oliver was somewhere on board, investigating, apparently. The information I managed to get from Rennie was always vague.

“Are you going to sleep in my cabin again?” I asked, swallowing a spoonful of pea soup and pretending to be cold and detached.

“Yes.” He stared at me from the other side of the table, his tone unapologetic.

I wasn’t as shocked or outraged as my mother would like me to be. “Am I still in danger?”

He sucked in a deep breath and put down his fork and knife. “Yes.”

But if everyone kept saying I was in danger without telling me from whom or what, how could I protect myself? Right then, a movement from the other side of the room caught my attention. As if summoned by a spell, a vision of Sandro flashed across my mind as he fixed his gaze on me. The scar on my wrist itched, and at the same time, a slash of pain flogged my head. I rubbed my temples.

I saw a long dark corridor. There were no windows. It was suffocating. Anonymous doors lined the passageway. Then blood flickered in my vision, so much blood. My blood. I was bleeding. I was dying. The pain in my arm was burning through me. Mother’s desperate face swept into view. She yelled at me not to leave her and implored me to stay with her. But keeping my eyes open was so hard, and the pain was too intense. My mother shook me by the shoulders, screaming my name.

“Monia.” Rennie was holding my hand, rubbing my inner wrist with his thumb. His eyebrows were drawn together. “What’s the matter? You’re so pale.”

“I don’t know.” I rubbed my forehead.

His thumb stroking my skin helped me focus on the present. His touch was soothing and spilt warmth within me. I didn’t want him to stop.

“Do you need a doctor?” he asked, peering at my face. “Is it the headache again?”

“Yes. It’s killing me.” I inhaled deeply. “I need the ladies’ room.”

“Of course.” He rose to his feet.

An emotion I couldn’t decipher shadowed his eyes. I hesitated, but he didn’t say anything. He went to follow me, but I put a hand on his chest.

“The ladies’ room is just around the corner. Please, I need a moment.”

He scanned the hall before bowing his head. “Please, be careful.”

I slogged around the corner, wondering what the visions meant, when Sandro, in flesh and blood, swept into view as if materialising out of thin air. So he wasn’t a product of my imagination.

I froze, ready to scream. “Sandro, what are you doing?” Before I could finish, he swept me off my feet and kissed me hard, his mouth eager and commanding.

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