"You didn't need to come with me, Brendan," I said as we walked through the narrow streets of Lockwood's notorious red-light district. The morning sun hadn't yet burned away the fog that clung to the cobblestones, giving everything a dreamlike quality.
Brendan's broad shoulders tensed beside me. "And let you wander these streets alone? Not a chance, Evangeline."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. Since my dramatic exit from Aunt Sylvia's house yesterday, Brendan had appointed himself my personal guardian. His loyalty warmed me, even if his constant hovering sometimes chafed.
"This is the third time this week we've come here," he muttered, stepping around a puddle of something I preferred not to identify. "Your aunt will have my head if she discovers I've been escorting you to your mother's... establishment."
"My aunt can take her opinions and—"
"Evangeline," he warned, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
