Don't Fight the Spark by Kasia Bacon

Author:Kasia Bacon [Bacon, Kasia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Sometime later that evening, I sat at the Sunken Sailor---plopped on the chair across the table from Grandmaster Feninghan---my robes in as many tatters as my dignity, but otherwise unharmed.

Following the failed crimping and before leaving the scene of my ordeal under Feninghan's escort, I'd learned that Master Revendi had been right behind him all the while and would be "taking care of" the pirates. I'd cared little to inquire what that meant; the way, however, the vamper had run his tongue over his upper teeth shed light on one possible outcome.

On our way to the tavern, Feninghan's expression hadn't encouraged conversation, so I'd held my tongue.

Inside, the assassin had the close-mouthed innkeeper, who sported a black eyepatch, shove a double measure of rum into my trembling hand. I'd gulped down the burning liquor in one go, only to dissolve into a splattering coughing fit, grand enough to upstage a consumption patient.

Brilliant. Here's to burying good impressions.

Once we got seated in the spacious, well-kept room upstairs, the assassin pulled down his hood. He rested his elbows on the table, the tips of his outstretched fingers pressed together, eyeing me for a time.

"Imagine my surprise when I received a word of a lunatic healer parading himself around the docks," the way the assassin emphasised the words suggested them being a direct quote. "Since you were late in coming, I decided to investigate. Master Revendi then heard the sounds of commotion." Feninghan touched his chin, his gaze pinned on me. "Is recklessness a habit of yours, Healer Ẽkana?"

"No, Grandmaster Feninghan," I grated out. The urge to slap myself across the face became more difficult to ignore.

A quirk of an eyebrow served as his only response.

The creak of the door made me start. Instinct told me Master Revendi had announced his presence on purpose, perhaps to spare my nerves any further shock. Given the state of my disturbed constitution, I would've hit the fucking ceiling if he'd simply appeared in front of me.

The alchemist, resembling a well-groomed cat who'd got the cream, chose the chair next to Feninghan.

The pair seemed to engage in some form of silent communication, which set my Spark senses atingle, indicating the use of Magic. Leaving them to it, I took advantage of the pause to carry out a discreet observation.

Here they were in front of me: arguably the two most feared people in the Empire.

They sat close to each other, clearly comfortable with such an intimate arrangement. So intimate it made me wonder whether the tales spread about the nature of their relationship were justified.

Both extremely attractive, the men couldn't have been more different in looks and wardrobe preferences. Compared with Revendi's narrow-featured, almost feminine beauty, complemented by long hair styled in shiny waves, Feninghan's rough-hewn appearance with a strong nose, defined jawline and tightly shorn do had a hard edge to it. Similarly, the sophisticated fashion sense of the vampire was a far cry from the assassin's leather combat garb.

Such polarity notwithstanding, they came across as strangely

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