“I, for one, have never been gladder to be out of the goddamn rain.” Ana puts up Tornado’s reins and slips a cube of sugar—precious stuff, even in the richest city in the New World—out of her pocket. It’s more than a little soggy. Half-melted, to be honest. But Tornado laps it out of her palm all the same. “That’s my boy. Thank you for not getting me killed.”

She turns to me, a soft, shaken smile on her face. “And thank you.”

The sight of her smile warms something inside me even though I, like the horses, am drenched through to my skin. I feel my skin flush and I hastily look away. “Now, come on, let’s get this tack off the horses and dry them before they get sores.”

Still smiling, Ana follows my lead, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes that tells me my blush was not the least bit subtle.

CHAPTER 24

Kiki

To say I am not comfortable would be a vast understatement.

Wool is not a fabric that should ever be wet. The heft of my sodden coat weighs me down. The horses, at least, have been tended to—as well as they can considering the circumstances—and now it’s time to tend to ourselves.

A renegade lock of hair falls across my face as I huff out an exasperated breath. Rainwater trickles from my forehead, cresting the ridge of my eyebrows, tangling with sweat from our hard ride. The salt stings my eyes. I don’t know what’s worse. That or the feeling of hours of dust drying out my eyeballs.

“I am not built for life on the road, Ana.”

She sniggers into her arm, but not even the thick wool of her coat can quiet the sound of it.

“Go on. Laugh at my torment.”

“I can’t help it. You look like a drenched cat. A drenched angry cat.”

I whip my coat off and chuck it at her head. She dodges. The wet fabric slaps against the stone floor with a loud squelch.

“That was a delightful noise,” Ana says, chuckling.

“We just got waylaid by a storm, why are you so goddamn cheerful?” I don’t like being wet. In that regard, I suppose I am rather feline, but I refuse to admit it out loud. At least not with Ana chortling at my pain.

“I’m sorry, Kiki.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But I do hate to see you suffer.”

“Sometimes you enjoy it.”

“Only when it’s amusing.”

“Why don’t you stop amusing yourself at my expense and help me find the candles? I know I packed them somewhere.”

Ana raises an incredulous eyebrow. “You brought candles?”

I shrug. “You never know when you might need a reading light.”

Her eyebrows raise even further. “You brought books?”

“You never know when you might get bored!”