Chapter 20
A few minutes prior….
The tavern in Ender’s Bay is oddly packed, but it only helps blend me into the background.
I stare at the auburn-haired woman sitting at the bar, spinning tales about being a baker .
What the hells is Jane doing?
She scans the tavern like it’s a bad habit that she has, and every time she does, I can feel how she’s searching for me.
My lips curl upward.
I don’t know how she got here while leaving her horse in Inkstone, unless she stole someone else’s. I have half a mind to walk out from behind this door with a one-way mirror that I watch her from—just to see her pretty face as she realizes how deeply she fucked up.
I can hear her as plain as day with the cracks between the door and the wall as she speaks to the man serving her ale.
No, I’ll let her think she’s free of me, for now.
She will learn.
Once she’s minding her own business and sipping on her stew, I scan the crowd as they begin to sing, thumping their feet on the floor. From behind Jane, in a corner, I spot a man who doesn’t keep his eyes off of her, nor does he partake in anything else. And he’s not watching her in a curious way. If I had my coin, I would bet the entire bag that he’ll follow her after she leaves.
Jane better have my fucking gold somewhere on her. That wasn’t a small amount she stole.
The bartender moves to the doors near me, which squeak on their hinges as they open and close. The aged man looks at me and quietly whispers, “Did you get what you need?”
“For now,” I reply, moving my gaze back to Jane.
“Well, is she dangerous?”
I snort. “She bites harder than she looks. But she’s not dangerous for you .”
He grunts, grabbing a bottle on a nearby shelf and takes it back out, her pretty eyes observing every move the bartender makes. Her heart bleeds with pride, and I get the sense she thinks she’s outsmarted me.
She’s going to hate learning that she was so wrong to ever assume she could.
My eyes widen when Jane pulls out my bag of coins and pays for her food and drink, getting a fair bit of change back. Good girl for not losing that. I leave through the back when she makes for the entrance. I’ll follow her aura, keeping a distance in the guise of night. I’ve left my armor off so as not to make a sound. As I stand in the shadows, the air crisp in my lungs, I watch as she traverses the dirt roads, kicking a rock. She begins walking along a path that leads closer to the piers, and I hesitate to move when the tavern doors open. The man that was watching leaves too, searching around as the warm light from inside diminishes when the door shuts behind him. When he spots her, he swiftly follows and moves like he wants to avoid being seen.
Well, this is not his lucky day.
As Jane walks without being a bit wiser about the situation, I follow the man. When he picks up his pace and unsheathes a blade, like he might run in and pounce on her, it’s time for me to act as I come in from behind, unsheathing my own as I grip the hard steel hilt. In a swift movement, I press my dagger at his throat while my other hand grabs his wrist that drops his weapon, pinning it behind his back. “Speak a word and I’ll paint the streets with your blood.”
He doesn’t move.
I release his wrist and rummage in his pockets, pulling out a very unique coin that has a flying crow on one side, and a skull on the other. The Crows .
“Well, this is shit luck for you… you’re from a nasty group of privateers. Why are you alone?” I mutter.
“What do you want?” He rasps, his breathing ragged. His emotions are the easiest to read yet—there’s no real fear inside of him, just annoyance that this is happening at all. I can sense that he really wants to reach for a blade at his hip.
“Answer the question.”
“I’m visiting .”
Lies. He’s hunting. Moving his wrist so I can look at it, I spot a black crow right in the middle. “You snag women and take them to be used and sold.”
“The fuck do you care?”
Oh, he’s so unlucky tonight. I think of Serena, not knowing who took her, only aware that she was taken in a very similar manner.
Which means this man has done this before. I allow him a few seconds of life to really examine his heart, and when all I can feel is the undisciplined lust for power that rapists all share, I don’t fucking bother dealing with threats tonight.
“I’m sure the world won’t miss you,” I say, slicing his jugular so deep I cut through bone. Blood sprays out against the wall we stand adjacent to and all over the dirt. Slowly dropping his body, to minimize any loud sounds, I clean my blade on his clothes, ripping the back of his shirt off to wipe at my hands and face.
A door opens somewhere behind me, and I turn to see the bartender has left through the back door. He partially yells and partially whispers, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Killing Crows,” I explain, nudging the body at my feet with my boot. “What are you doing?”
“Didn’t like how he eyed that woman. Don’t tolerate that behavior in these piers.”
Rather than reply, I simply start to walk away so I don’t lose Jane’s trail. In the background I can hear the bartender grumbling, probably wondering what to do with the dead body now.
Returning to the road, I realize rather than going down to the docks, Jane has left to traverse on a pathless journey, her energy leading me right up the cliffs that overlook the ocean. I stay back and wait until she’s far enough away that I can follow without her seeing me.
Where is she going?
I’ll give her until morning to have solace with herself, right before her escape ship leaves. So she knows that even when she has her grip firm on hope, I will always find her.