I smile. “You don’t have to go with me,” I say.

Femi nods but keeps ambling along by my side. He’s remembering a promise he made to someone long ago. A promise to look after me. I’m glad he’s here.

They’re waiting for us down a side street. Thénardier’s face is an ugly mask of violence. He’s drunk and accompanied by four of the Flesh Guild.

“Nina,” Femi says, “we can run.”

I remember him saying those same words a long time ago, when I was a child. It didn’t work then either.

“He’s my blood kin. He’s the Master of my Guild. How long can I hide from him?”

Femi looks at me as if he’s looking at Azelma. He knows all the words I’m not saying. If Thénardier takes his anger out on me, he might not hurt Ettie. Hurting Ettie is forbidden, but from the way Thénardier is swaying, I’d say he’s in no state to care about rules.

“Well, well. If isn’t my little chienne of a daughter.”

Thénardier reaches out and grabs me, slamming me back against a wall. I feel my ribs crack as the breath gets sucked out of me, leaving me reeling.

“Do you know how much money you lost me?” he asks.

I smell his sour, wine-soaked breath, and a thousand memories tear through my mind. Blurred words, burning rage, a hundred bruises, a dozen broken bones. Azelma begging him to stop.

“Beating me won’t get her back. She’s under Orso’s protection now,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You’re right. It won’t get her back, but it will give me great satisfaction.”

He throws me and I fall, hitting my head on the cold stone.

“Thénardier!” Femi yells. “Tomasis won’t be happy if you hurt his best Cat.” He leaps in front of Thénardier, who drunkenly bats him away.

“Tomasis can go to Ysengrim,” he slurs.

Insulting Tomasis in front of Femi is a mistake, but Thénardier seems too drunk to care.

“She brings in ten times more than you ever have, Thénardier. Think about it. If you injure her legs or her hands and she can’t bring Tomasis her cut, what do you think he’ll say?”

Thénardier smiles. “Ah, but I won’t be the one injuring her,” he says.

He snaps his fingers and the Fleshers close in.

If someone is going to kill me, I’d like to get a few blows in first. I’d like to go down fighting. But if I fight here, if I land one punch, Thénardier will take his temper out on Ettie. He’ll wait patiently till he can waylay her and give her a taste of his rage. That’s the kind of man he is.

“Thénardier!” Femi says, his voice raised in warning.

“It’s not me who sent them.” Thénardier steps back to observe with a gleam in his eye. “Think of me as the messenger,” he says, laughing at Femi’s barely concealed rage.

“Are you the Tiger’s jackal now, Thénardier? This will end badly for you.”