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hasn’t been here to speak with you—”
“I know about men and women, Ash. I’m not a little
girl, no matter how much you refuse to accept that. Jack
was right. You do think I’m five years younger than I am.”
Ash straightened, shaking a finger at her. “So you think
young women of your oh-so-mature age have license to
strip in front of any man who bursts into their room?”
“It wasn’t any man, it was Jack!” Charlotte spat. “And
it was just a stupid game.”
“I don’t know if it was only a game,” Ash said coldly.
“But it was most certainly stupid. And childish. If you
want to prove that you’re an adult, then act like one. I’m of
half a mind to leave you here tomorrow.”
Charlotte felt angry tears creeping into her eyes. “You
would never talk to Jack or Birch like this! They’re always
joking and pranking.”
“Jack and Birch aren’t my sisters.” His voice was gentler. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You think Jack would hurt me?” Charlotte blinked
her tears away, looking up at her brother’s face. “But I
thought you trusted him.”
“I do. And he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not . . . purposefully.” Ash choked a little on the words.
She was surprised to see crimson creeping up his neck,
coloring his ears.
“I shouldn’t be the one to—” He met her puzzled gaze
and quickly looked away. “I’ll ask Meg.”
“Ask Meg what?” Charlotte crossed her arms, fully
prepared to sulk. “Are you really not going to let me come
tomorrow?”
Caught up in his own thoughts, Ash’s reply was distracted. “No . . . it’s just . . . never mind. I can’t afford to
leave you here. You’re too good with the POC.”
“ She’s called Pocky, and of course I am.” Charlotte’s
anger withered, and she flung her arms around her brother,
kissing him on the cheek. “And you’d miss me too much.”
Ash tensed up for a moment, but his temper had cooled
and he ruffled her hair.
Stepping back, Charlotte said, “What did you want
anyway? Jack said you sent him to find me.”
“I did.” Ash’s scowl returned momentarily. “And I came
to find you myself because he was taking too long.”
Not wanting to revisit their argument, she quickly
asked, “Well, what do you need?”
“Meg came to the refectory,” Ash said, looking tired.
“Grave just woke up.”
“Who?”
“Your stray.”
“You’re calling him Grave?” Charlotte asked.
“Birch is,” Ash told her. “I guess I picked up the habit.”
Charlotte shrugged. “What about him?”
“He wants to leave the workshop, and we’d like to keep
him there. We can’t risk him wandering around the Catacombs.”
“Do you really think he poses a threat?” Charlotte
asked. If anything, the stranger Birch had christened Grave
seemed sick or mentally unhinged, but not dangerous.
Ash shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. We can’t
be too cautious. Even if he’s perfectly harmless, he’d get
lost in the tunnels without a guide.”
Charlotte nodded. New inhabitants of the Catacombs
were required to have a seasoned resident with them until
they could manage to navigate the tunnels on their own.
“Would you visit him and convince him that staying
with Birch is the best option he has for now?” Ash asked.
“Don’t tell him too much about us. Just enough to keep
him calm until we learn more about who he is.”
“Why me?” It had been a long day, and Charlotte was
feeling desperate for sleep.
“Because he trusts you, Lottie. You’re the one who
saved him and all.” Ash smiled. “This is a consequence of
your action. Reap what you’ve sown. I’ll consider it a mark
of your newfound maturity.”
“Don’t gloat. I’ll go.” Charlotte swiped her corset from
the floor. “Just let me get dressed again.”
Ash turned to leave, muttering, “You shouldn’t have
gotten undressed in the first place.”
He closed the door before Charlotte had a chance to
reply.
5.
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