“That’s an unusual name.”
I glanced up, narrowing my eyes. “Are you always this annoying, or is today special?”
“I save my best material for beautiful women.” He picked up one of the rings I’d been cataloging, then slid the ring onto his pinky—the only finger it would fit—and struck a pose. “What do you think? My color?”
“Put that down before you break it.” I snatched the ring from his finger, my tail lashing behind me. Lydia’s voice had dropped to a murmur, and I couldn’t make out the words anymore. Dammit.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He leaned against the table, watching me with those too-observant eyes. “Your name?”
“Rava,” I said shortly, tilting my head toward the partition. If I could just hear what Lydia was saying...
“Rava.” He rolled my name around his mouth like he was tasting it. “You’re new to Silvermist.”
“Not a question.” I edged closer to the curtain, straining to catch Lydia’s words. Something about ‘authentication papers’ and ‘private collector.’
Zral picked up a gaudy emerald brooch. “My mother would love this. Green’s her favorite color.” He held it up to the light with exaggerated interest. “What’s the story behind it?”
“Victorian, paste gems, completely ordinary.” I plucked it from his fingers and set it down, gritting my teeth. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Not particularly.” Another crooked grin curled around those tusks. “I’m enjoying the view right here.”
“Well, admire it elsewhere. I have work to do.” I rolled my eyes, but felt my cheeks warm. A flicker of heat sparked in my fingertips. I curled my fingers into my palm, smothering the flame before it could manifest. Not now. Not over an irritating inconvenience.
Lydia’s voice rose slightly: “—then he should make himself available as we agreed.”
The orc raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What would you recommend for a male who seems to be striking out at every turn?”
He leaned closer, and thatscent. Blackberries and woodsmoke. Rich and wild. The combination stirred something in me, making my pulse jump and that dangerous heat flicker again beneath my skin.
I took a half-step back and began forcefully threading scarves through their hangers. “A personality transplant.”
He laughed again, and I hated how the sound tugged at something inside me. I needed to focus. Lydia’s phone call was my first real lead in weeks, and this orc was ruining everything.
“Have a drink with me tonight,” he said. “To welcome you to town.”
“I’m not interested.” I flicked another hanger aside, ignoring the sizzle in my palms.
He ran a finger along the end of the rack, uncomfortably close to my hand. “In drinks or in me?”
Unholy hell. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had flirted with me so directly and lived to tell the tale. Kaz would have had him buried in a shallow grave from the first look, whichwas why Kaz was under the impression I’d abstained from all the best sins during my college years.
But I hadn’t escaped one cage just to build another, no matter how tempting.
“Both.”
“Fair enough.” I heard the smile in his voice. “But if you change your mind, I’m at the Sombra booth every weekend.” He turned to leave, then paused. “By the way, Red, your boss is watching.”
Fuck. I knew I was in trouble the second the cloth burst into flames.
The vintage silk scarf curled and blackened under my fingertips, orange embers racing along the delicate fabric. Shit. I clenched my fists and willed the fire to recede, but the damage was done. A perfect hand-shaped burn mark scarred what had been—according to Lydia’s dramatically inflated price tag—a ‘rare 1950s Hermès original.’
“What the hell are you doing?” Lydia’s voice cut through the market chatter. She yanked the ruined scarf from my hands, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my wrist.
“Static electricity,” I lied. This never happened to me. I had perfect control—had since I was a child. My brothers would allow nothing less from an ifrit of our line. “These synthetic blends are so unpredictable.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That was pure silk, Rava.”
“Polyester,” I corrected under my breath as she stormed to the back of our booth. I’d been around enough luxury fabrics to know the difference.
