Demon Marked

Her lips parted. Yasmeen didn’t allow her enough air to make a sound.
    “Is Zenobia in the house? Nod once if yes.”
    Nod.
    “Is she alive?”
    Nod.
    Good. Yasmeen might not kill this woman, now. She eased back just enough to let the woman respond. “Where did you hear about the sketch?”
    “Port Fallow,” she whispered. “We also knew you were looking for Fox’s sister. We realized he must have found the sketch on his last salvaging run.”
    Yasmeen had only spoken to one art dealer in Port Fallow: Franz Kessler. Damn his loose tongue. She’d make certain he wouldn’t talk out of turn again—especially if this had been his idea. This woman certainly hadn’t the wits to connect the sketch to Zenobia.
    “You and the one upstairs. Was this his plan?”
    Yasmeen interpreted her hesitation as a no— and that this woman was afraid of whoever had set it up.
    She’d chosen the wrong person to fear.
    “What airship did you fly in on?”
    “ Windrunner. Last night.”
    A passenger ship. “Who’s upstairs?”
    A different, deeper fear entered her eyes now, but she answered anyway. “My husband.”
    A man she genuinely cared for. A man who either didn’t care as much in return, or was as stupid as his wife. “Did he create this plan to cheat me? Answer carefully. Whether he lives or dies depends on your response.”
    The woman finally used her brain, and gave up the name Yasmeen wanted. “No. It was Peter Mills. He’s waiting for us at the Rose & Thorn Inn.”
    Miracle Mills, the weapons smuggler. A worthy occupation, in Yasmeen’s opinion, but Miracle Mills sullied the profession. He always recruited partners to assist him with the job, but as soon as the cargo was secure, the partners conveniently disappeared. Mills usually claimed an attack by Horde forces or zombies had killed them, yet every time, he miraculously survived.
    No doubt that if this couple had secured the sketch for him, they’d have disappeared soon, too.
    “Did he hire you just for this job?”
    “Yes. We’re grateful. We’ve been out of work for almost a full season, and he promised us a share.”
    A full season of what? This woman’s soft hands had never seen any kind of labor. Only one possibility occurred to her.
    “Are you actors ?”
    The blond nodded. “And dancers. But they replaced us with automatons, and we lost our positions.”
    Yasmeen suspected that the automatons displayed more talent. “All right. Call your husband down.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’ll make you a better deal than Mills will.” Yasmeen wouldn’t kill them, anyway. “And because if I go upstairs holding a knife to your throat, he might do something stupid to Miss Fox.”
    “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “How do I call him?”
    God save her from idiots. “I’ll let you up. You’ll open and close the door as if you’ve just come in from outside, and yell, ‘I’ve got it! Come see!’ You’ll be very excited.”
    “And then?”
    “I’ll do the rest.” She waited for the woman to nod, then backed away and hauled her up. “Now.”
    Yasmeen had to admit, she played the scene perfectly. Her husband rushed down the stairs so quickly, he didn’t notice Yasmeen standing in the entry to the parlor until he was almost upon her. She smiled.
    The man paled.
     
    While two members of her crew escorted the husband and wife up to Lady Corsair , Yasmeen searched upstairs. She found Zenobia—still with brown hair, and just as handsome as her brother—tied and gagged in the first bedroom. Two maids lay next to her, bound hand to foot.
    Yasmeen sliced through their ropes, and after accepting their thank-yous, returned downstairs to wait so that they could weep or rant in private. Her cabin girl, Ginger, brought Yasmeen’s favorite tea down from Lady Corsair , and relayed that Peter Mills was in Fladstrand, and that Rousseau had sent messages to the passenger airship captains suggesting that they didn’t allow Miracle Mills to board any of their vessels before Yasmeen had a chance to speak with him.
    None of the captains had yet replied, but Yasmeen doubted that they’d risk Lady Corsair chasing them across the skies. So Mills couldn’t leave town, even if he became aware that he should.
    When Zenobia came downstairs, still moving stiffly after hours of being tied, Yasmeen relayed the same information to her. The other woman nodded and poured herself a cup before sitting on the chair opposite Yasmeen’s.
    “You’ve come to tell me that