Midnight Jewel
Page 67

   We locked up all of the militiamen. Tom’s crew had a few more cuts and bruises than when this had started, but no one on either side had been shot. The prisoners had long since disappeared into the night when we finally left.
   “Thank you,” I told Tom as we walked back toward the main city. “I know you’ll say you owed me the favor, but still. I appreciate it.”
   “Happy to.” Silence fell for several moments. “Exhilarating, isn’t it?”
   “What?”
   “The rush of battle.” He waved his hands around grandly. “The thrill of it. The blood pounding through you. Every part of you on alert. It’s hard to come down off the high.”
   I did feel a rush of sorts. All my senses seemed sharper and clearer. “Yes,” I admitted. “And it is hard to come down.”
   “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in a fight.”
   “No, but never anything like this.” My father had taught me some basic fighting skills but rarely let me go along on any of his raids. I’d been shuffled to the side as pretty bait. Only Lonzo, in our brief time together in Osfro, had treated me as an equal partner and enhanced my training. “It feels good—knowing we saved innocent people from oppression. That’s a rush too.”
   “Well, who can say if they’re truly innocent?” Tom asked dryly. “But we did save them from oppression, I suppose. Now. If you’ve still got a bit of battle lust left in you, I’m sure there are other stops we could make.”
   I hesitated. “I should really go.”
   “I can make sure they’re noble ones, just for you.”
   “No. Really, I have to go.” I hardened my resolve against the tempting offer. “I shouldn’t even be out. But I’m grateful. You more than made up for what I did.”
   “Ah, well. Maybe next time.”
   “There isn’t going to be a next time.”
   He pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me again. Half the men back at the Bull would kill to work for me.”
   “Work for you? They’re welcome to it. And why would you want me anyway? I don’t have nearly the experience your other men have.” A hollow feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and I stepped away, suddenly aware of how quiet the streets we’d taken back into the city were. “Look, if you think ‘working’ for you is going to include something else on the side—”
   He scoffed. “You are a pleasure to behold, but no, nothing like that. You held your own tonight, and something tells me you’re a fast learner. It’d be worth your while too. Lesser Tom!”
   We’d walked far ahead of the others, and Lesser Tom came scurrying to our sides. “Yeah?”
   “Show her what I paid you earlier for the visit to Judge Mathers’s house.”
   Lesser Tom reached into his pockets, and I did a double take when he produced two handfuls of silver coins. I counted about twenty. “I spent a few on drinks,” he admitted.
   Tom waved him aside. “No matter. Thank you.”
   Lesser Tom put the money away and immediately fell back. Tom shot me a sidelong glance. “You see? I make sure everyone is well compensated. Sometimes they’re paid in gold.”
   Gold? I still felt dazzled by all that silver. “I . . . I didn’t do what I did tonight for money. I wouldn’t want to. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”
   “Even an angel’s got to eat. But I do like the way you think. Many talk about justice and fighting for change. Few live it. My men are good souls, but most do this for the money. They’ve got to eat too. I could use someone at my side who truly fights with a noble spirit.”
   I scrutinized his face in the lamplight, gauging his sincerity. “Do you really want nobility? It doesn’t seem like you’re giving away all your earnings to charity. Those feathers can’t be cheap.”
   “They aren’t, but image is important.” He fondly stroked the green and blue feathers that adorned one of his sleeves. “I have to keep some for operating expenses. And I freely admit I’m no angel—I like my profit. But I’m also not as selfish as you think. I see the city’s downtrodden every day. There’s corruption and abuse of power around here, and I have a lot of ideas about how to improve things.”
   The sincerity in his voice took me by surprise. “Is robbing people improving things?”
   “It’s not like I’m stealing bread from orphans. I mostly deal in rare and valuable goods, exquisite things that aren’t always easy to get ahold of—but pay off well for that difficulty. And trust me, the men we take them from aren’t exactly hurting for money.”
   “They might still be good people, even if they’re rich. And I’m sure some get killed when you attack them. Is that fair?”
   “No, and neither is the fact that plenty of good people are starving and suffering here. The coin and food I’ve given away has saved many of them.”
   “And you . . . you just want me to fight with you?” I asked reluctantly.
   “Definitely. Sometimes to ‘acquire’ goods. Sometimes to issue a warning to those who think they can trample others. I’ll try to keep you out of jobs that might go against your angelic principles. And I’d also need you for another task. I aim for luxuries, but plenty of mundane goods fall into my hands that I can’t use. Basics, like food and clothing. My workload is going up, and I don’t have as much time to distribute that surplus to those in need. Something tells me you’d like that job. And I also think the city would be enchanted by a lovely angel helping them.”
   “Do you want to use me to boost your image?”
   He grinned. “Well, as I said, image is important. But I don’t ‘use’ anyone. The people I work with aren’t tools to be pushed around and cast away.”