The Damsel and the Daggerman: A BLUD Novella Read Online Free

accusation.
    “I’ve heard that you’re dangerous. That there was blood everywhere.”
    He had reached the clockwork bird she’d recently deactivated. A begoggled artificer and a woman in a frumpy coat were fussing with the wires in an open compartment, arguing over the cause of the automaton’s malfunction as he held a screwdriver and she held a book. Without a word, Marco took two fast steps, planted a boot on the man’s back, and catapulted himself over the bird.
    “Dammit, man! These are fragile instruments,” the artificer growled, but Marco ignored him and kept walking.
    “Oh, Henry. That’s your best vest,” the woman said, fussing at the bootprint.
    Jacinda tried to get around the pair and the collection of tools, books, and wires arrayed on the ground, but there was no clear path, unless she went over, which even she wouldn’t risk in such voluminous skirts.
    “Are you hiding something, Marco Taresque?” she shouted at his rapidly disappearing back.
    He stopped and turned, hands on hips bristling with knives. Did she imagine the smile tugging at his lips?
    “Of course I am!” he shouted back.
    And then he was gone.

.4.
    “So what do you know about Marco Taresque?”
    The three girls around the table giggled behind their hands, telling Jacinda exactly what she wanted to know: he’d had absolutely nothing to do with any of them.
    “He just showed up one night,” the bearded girl breathed, woolly cheeks in her gloved hands. “Materialized out of the smoke like he was part of the fire.”
    “Everything was smoky that night, Abi. He just happened to walk out at exactly the right moment.” Demi rolled her eyes. “And honestly, he showed up that afternoon. Marched across the moor like anyone else who’s vaguely suicidal. You just didn’t see him because you were asleep in your wagon. It was far less dramatic then.” But the girl’s eyes went misty anyway, betraying her feelings about the mysterious stranger.
    “Master Crim said he’s dangerous, and that’s good enough for me.” Cherie shook her blond curls, her mouth in a prim line. “Honestly, he looks like a wastrel. Like he did what the papers say he did.”
    “Oh, he was in the papers?” Jacinda asked.
    Abi leaned close, her beard wagging excitedly and dipping into her oatmeal. “Master Stain don’t like us to read about the cities, but the audience drops a paper every now and then. There was a drawing, and there’s a price on his head.”
    “Down south, they call him the Deadly Daggerman,” Cherie whispered.
    “I’d like to see that story. Do you have it still?”
    Demi blushed. “Crim found us with it and took it away. Said it was just another case of a money-grubbing journalist making a sensation out of hearsay and ruining a man’s life in the process.” She raised her eyebrows and stared at Jacinda as if daring her to continue the line of questioning.
    Jacinda knew when an interview was headed downhill. She would find a better time to talk to the girls about their own stories when they weren’t on the offensive—or packed together in a giggling gaggle.
    With a warm, professional smile, she stood, tucking her notebook under her arm without a single word written on the page. This interview had been doomed from the start, but she had learned more than she anticipated. Now she knew why Marco wouldn’t talk to her. And she also knew that he hadn’t been breaking hearts among the young and easily breakable. He went up a notch in her estimation, considering how very easily he could have preyed upon these moon-eyed girls. It shouldn’t have mattered, as she was simply a journalist gathering facts. And yet . . . it mattered.
    “Thank you all so very much for your time.”
    “But what do you know about Marco?” Demi asked, her eyes almost pleading. “Did he really do it?”
    Jacinda reached out to pat the contortionist on the shoulder, forgetting for a moment that the girl was bludded and seeing only a tender young soul