The Demon’s Surrender by Sarah Rees Brennan

pathway from the direction of the cathedral. He looked subtly different than usual, the set of his shoulders making his shirt look more starched somehow, his mouth very thin.
    “You know you’re not welcome down here anymore, Bambi,” he said.
    Sin stared at him for an instant, then glanced at the woman. She was looking intrigued.
    Sin reached up and pulled out her hair tie so the waves fell down around her shoulders. She twisted one strand around her finger and gave the woman a slow smile.
    “See?” she said. “Told you I knew the owners.”
    “You used to know my brother,” Alan corrected primly. “Dad made it very clear that your acquaintance was at an end.”
    “You’re so boring, Clive,” Sin drawled. “I knew Nick would be pleased to see me.”
    “Nicholas isn’t there,” Alan informed her, with a smug little smile. “And I very much doubt Dad would be overjoyed by your reappearance.”
    Sin sort of wished she had bubblegum. She felt that blowing a big, pink bubble would fit right into this role.
    She did without, putting her hands on her hips and shifting her stance so her hips rolled beneath her palms.
    “ You could show me the boat,” she suggested, with another slow smile. “I really would love to have a look around. And I bet you’re just a little pleased to see me.”
    The ginger lady looked shocked by how brazen Sin was.
    “Not even a little,” said Alan, and the woman’s mouth twisted in satisfaction. “Come along, Bambi. I’ll get you a cab.”
    He reached out and took hold of Sin’s elbow, towing her fastidiously along, not bringing her body any closer to his than necessary. He looked over his shoulder as he did so.
    “Thanks for keeping an eye out, ma’am.”
    “Don’t mention it,” said the woman, lifting her chin proudly.
    Sin sighed. “Seems I underestimated you, Clive. I had no idea how boring you could be.”
    After a few minutes of being towed, Alan’s pace slowed and Sin risked a glance over her shoulder. She saw the woman’s retreating back, but she also saw the boat pulling out from the bank.
    There was that decision made for her, then.
    Sin couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed. On the whole, she was going to call this expedition a win: Disaster had been averted, she had valuable new information, and, well—she couldn’t say it hadn’t been a little fun.
    She resumed facing forward, then slid a glance up at Alan. “Bambi?”
    “In my defense,” said Alan. “Clive.”
    “Just a little obvious, that’s all I’m saying.”
    “But it worked.”
    “Well, you’ve obviously had a lot of practice, so you were able to carry it off okay,” Sin conceded. “So.”
    “So what?”
    She gave him the slow, Bambi-style smile that had scandalized the woman by the boat. “Lie to me, Clive.”
    One of Alan’s eyebrows came up, and then he smiled a little. He put his hand into his pocket and she saw, cupped in his palm, the glint of his gun. “I was doing a chemistry experiment. I’m so sorry the noise disturbed you; I’m in some advanced classes, and sometimes when I’m studying I lose track of time.”
    Sin slipped her knife out of her pocket and showed it to him. “This? It’s a prop. I do a dance with it.” She paused significantly. “A belly dance.”
    “And that sound was a car backfiring. My brother’s keen on cars, you see. Don’t worry. I’ll have a word with him.”
    “Of course I remember you from the last Market,” Sin said, restoring her knife to her pocket. “Who could forget you?”
    “Actually,” Alan said, earnest and clear-eyed, “this is my first time playing poker.”
    Sin laughed, delighted, loving the sunlight shining on the Thames and playing a part with someone who understood she was playing.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked softly. “Were you following me?”
    A few guys had followed her before and it had been shocking, frightening: They had wanted to own a bit of her without her knowledge or her