Free A Temptation of Angels by Michelle Zink

before slipping from her room. Backtracking to the staircase was not difficult.
    Left, right, right.
    And then she was at the top of it.
    It was not easy to remain unseen, standing at the top of the stairs as she was forced to do. If someone had been in the entry, she would have been caught. But the marble-floored foyer was empty, as quiet as a tomb. She ran lightly down the stairs, grateful for the well-maintained treads that didn’t squeak.
    She had her hand on the knob when she heard the clearing of a throat behind her.
    “Going somewhere?”
    Letting out a sigh, she turned to find Griffin leaning against the banister. He surveyed her with tired amusement.
    She stood a little straighter. “As a matter of fact, I have an errand to run.”
    “An errand?”
    “Yes. A
personal
errand.”
    He stood up, ambling toward her. “There’s no such thing as a personal errand. Not anymore. Not for you.”
    Shock washed through her body and over her face. “Just because we’re both in this… this unusual situation doesn’t give you the right to act as my father.”
    He tipped his head, a weary smile playing at his lips. “I’m not trying to strong-arm you, Helen. Truly.”
    She nodded at the apology in his voice.
    He continued. “It’s for your own safety. You saw the wraiths in the street last night. They are the least of the threats against us.”
    She couldn’t fight his reasoning, but it didn’t change the necessity of her plans. “I do have an errand.”
    “And I’d be happy to accompany you.”
    There was something willful in his voice that she had not heard before. Something that made her wonder if Griffin was really as amenable as he seemed.
    She smiled. “You don’t know what it is yet. When you find out, you might change your mind.”
    “Care to fill me in on our destination?” Griffin asked.
    Helen knew where they were going, and she led him around well-heeled women out for tea and young ladies out for a stroll with their chaperones.
    “Well, if you must know, I need clothing.”
    He grasped her arm, pulling her to a stop. “We’re going shopping?”
    “Not exactly,” she said. “We’re going to the dressmaker. And if you’re embarrassed to attend to such an errand, feel free to return to the house.”
    “I’m not embarrassed.” He rubbed a hand across his chin, his forehead furrowed in thought. “But it isn’t wise for you to frequent the shops you’re accustomed to visiting.”
    “Why not?”
    He took her arm, pulling her to the side of the crowd pushing past them on the street. “Because if whoever killed your parents plans to do a good job looking for you—and they do—they’ll be watching the places you might go.”
    She couldn’t help the disbelieving smile that rose to her lips. “You’re telling me they know enough about me to know where I have my dresses made?”
    “They know far more than that, Helen. We’re only just beginning to put together the pieces, but whoever murdered your parents—and ours—is just a killer for hire. Someone very powerful is behind these murders. And they know more about you than you can imagine.”
    She shook her head. “What am I supposed to do, then? Imust have clothing, and it must be made quickly and to my specifications.”
    “And so it shall.”
    He placed her hand on his arm, turning in the direction from which they came. They passed the house and continued in the other direction.
    “Griffin?” she asked as they walked.
    “Mmmm?”
    “Why do you and Darius remain in your family home? Doesn’t staying there make it easier for the killer to find you?” The question had nagged at her since Galizur told her about the killings.
    He answered without looking at her. “That’s exactly the point.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He looked toward the street before turning to look down at her. “Our parents were not killed at home as yours were. They were murdered on the streets. Like animals.”
    She looked down at her feet, pained by the