Chapter Twenty
When Selina had claimed her tastes were expensive, she’d meant it. Either that or she was just testing him, trying to see if he’d live up to his offer to spend the entirety of his family’s money.
He probably wouldn’t succeed even if he tried.
Rion cast a glance toward the line of waiting patrons. The females all wore fancy dresses and were adorned with expensive necklaces, rings, and earrings. The males were dressed in finely pressed tunics with their hair combed back and shoes polished.
He and Selina looked like beggars in comparison. “I’m not sure we’re properly dressed.”
A wicked grin. “Should we see if they try to throw us out?”
“You’re going to use me to your advantage again, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t that the whole reason you’re here?”
Rion rolled his eyes and held out his arm, leading a practically bouncing Selina to the hostess stand the restaurant had stationed outside. The hostess, a female dressed in a short black dress with flowing blonde hair, looked them over and crinkled her nose.
“We’d like a table,” Selina said in her sweetest voice.
The hostess gave an apologetic smile to those waiting in line. “It’s formal attire only, I’m afraid.”
Selina made a show of looking down at herself, then to Rion. “I wasn’t aware those rules applied to a Lord of Brónach.”
The hostess’s eyes lit up, but upon inspection, her excitement shifted to disappointment. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come up with a better—”
Rion didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence as his magic came alive and swirled up his body. He’d never liked being the center of attention, but Selina seemed to delight in it. She even offered him a hint of a smile. He didn’t return it.
Her smile faded.
Rion thought the hostess might faint on the spot and leave them to either venture inside unannounced or seek another establishment. She collected herself and pivoted instead, gesturing them inside with her hands as though she no longer possessed the ability to speak.
They followed the female through the dimly lit space, all the way to the back where a single round booth sat on the left-hand side. A table reserved for high-paying patrons, especially those who didn’t wish to be disturbed.
The hostess set a pair of menus before them, her fingers trembling, then offered a house wine. Rion didn’t listen to her description of the flavors, he only nodded and waited for her to pour each of them a glass before rushing away.
Selina swirled the drink, staring at the contents before saying, “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
“Their fear of you.”
Rion flipped open his menu. “It’s certainly made making friends a breeze.”
He glanced up when she didn’t respond and found something like sadness written across her face. She set her glass down. “I’m sorry. I should let you enjoy your times of anonymity.”
“You put yourself in danger too, you know?”
“Worried about me for a change?”
He smirked and read through the short list of dinner options. “Maybe.”
“Well don’t. I have a big bad Fae boyfriend to keep me safe.” She tapped her chin. “Although, I wonder if that male from earlier could take you on?”
He lifted a brow. “Foley? You’re not serious.”
She leaned forward. “How old were you when you first fought?”
“Fifteen.”
“It’s been a few years for both of you, then.”
“A few years that he spent in prison.”
“Supposedly. For all you know, they might have released him the very next day.”
Rion clenched his jaw at that. To think they might have been curating the poison for that long. Experimenting on unwilling subjects.
A new female arrived to refill their drinks and take their orders. Rion downed the wine, savoring the hints of a floral aftertaste.
Selina sipped from her own glass. “And you say I have an alcohol problem.”
He set the glass down. “You do, and clearly you’re a bad influence. I shall have to tell my sister.”
“That’ll really get us in a brawl. She’s always been protective of you.”
Rion lifted a brow. “Does she talk about me often?”
“No, just prevents anyone from slandering your name. Gods help them if they do.”
“Ah, so that’s what happened.”
She sat back. “I was just curious. It was the others who called you a monster.”
“I take it that didn’t go over well for them?”
“Saoirse knocked their teeth out, so no, it didn’t.”
He chuckled, “They’re lucky that’s all she did.”
“You’ve seen her do worse, I take it?”
“There were a few tutors that . . . well, they took their shot. She saw it and snapped their arms before exiling them from the city.”
“Gods above.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you on her good side.”
Selina swirled her drink again and sipped on it. “Isn’t fifteen kind of young to be going out on missions? Weren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“Saoirse schooled me herself. When she had assignments, she took me along. She didn’t believe I’d be safe otherwise. That’s how I got involved.”
“What about when you were a kid?”
Rion ran a finger through the condensation on his glass and downed another drink. His voice was low as he said, “I had someone who looked out for me then.” Selina watched him, waiting. “Caol was . . . like a second father.”
“Caol.” She considered the name. “The Fae we encountered before mentioned his name.”
“He was our teacher. My father’s ally. The two of them fought together on the field and he trained my siblings and me.”
“But?”
Rion shrugged. “There was an . . . accident. He didn’t believe me, or maybe he thought I’d become too much of a liability.”
“So you killed him?”
Rion kept his gaze on the glass, running his fingers around the rim. “I didn’t mean to. My magic was more volatile back then. It reacted to his killing blow. I barely made it back to Saoirse in time.”
She was silent for a time. “It’s funny how the truth of some stories never sees the light of day.” Selina lifted her arm and the waitress returned, refilled their drinks, then took their orders.
“Back to the mission when you were fifteen,” she said. “I’m guessing Saoirse didn’t plan your involvement?”
He smirked “No.”
“Details, that’s how dates work.”
Rion’s heart jolted at the word. Date.
“It wasn’t anything spectacular, if that’s what you’re hoping to hear. I just wanted to see the city.” She waited. “I went for a stroll and after a while, I realized not a single soul recognized me. It was . . . refreshing. I jumped from stall to stall and had so many things I could hardly carry them.”
“So you do like to shop.”
“I was fifteen and had an endless supply of money. I think most just assumed I was some rich merchant’s son.” He drank again. “I even had a female smile at me for the first time.”
Selina leaned forward with a mischievous look on her face. “Was she pretty?”
“Beautiful. If Saoirse hadn’t found me, I might have even gotten the chance to talk to her.”
“Wait, wait, wait, you’re telling me you haven’t even talked to a female before? No wonder you’re so charming.”
“Didn’t we already cover that when I mentioned how many are lined outside my door?”
“Yeah, but you have the whole alone type, bad boy persona going for you. I figured that would give you at least some advantage. Females usually go for that sort of thing.”
“Do you?” The question was out before he could stop it.
He shifted in his seat, but rather than letting her smile falter, Selina seemed to delight in his discomfort. She lifted her glass again. “My uncle seems to think so. He claims all my suitors have been . . . how did he phrase it? Disappointments.”
Rion smirked and took another long drink, emptying the glass. Their entrees arrived and Selina dug in, mercifully splitting the bread and cheese rather than snatching them for herself. She’d ordered a steak smothered in onions and gravy that made his mouth water. His own plate held steaming herbal chicken on a bed of rice.
It smelled divine, too
Selina stuffed the bread in her mouth. “So,” she said around the food. “What’s our plan?”
He bit into his food, content to make her wait for an answer, and froze. A tingling sensation crawled over his tongue, numbing it, and he promptly spit the food out. He reached out and snatched her wrist and Selina almost jumped out of her seat in protest.
“Don’t.” Rion kept his voice low, even as his heart rate sped. His vision was already blurring.
It was impossible, he hadn’t even ingested anything. But Foley was lurking in the city. Had he developed something else? Something worse than the poison spreading across their country? Rion’s gaze swept across everything on the table. The bread, the flowers, the cups of—wine. The wine.
Shit. How many glasses had he downed? He looked up at Selina’s half-empty cup. She’d only had a bit, which meant she wouldn’t be as incapacitated. He hoped.
“What?” She questioned, her gaze darting across the food on the table.
“We have to go. Now.”
“What do you mean, we just go—”
Rion spun and shoved his hand down his throat, forcing himself to vomit. Selina’s chair scooted against the wooden floor.
“The wine,” he breathed. “There’s something in it.”
He turned to watch her face go pale before she grabbed their glasses and sniffed each in turn. Selina sipped the liquid, then spit it out again, cursing herself. “I have the antidote,” she reached into her pocket, but the surrounding shadows were already moving.
Rion stood to his full height, wiping the edges of his mouth. He heard the slow whine of blades and let his magic crack the ground at his feet. Let it rise up and surround his body.
He usually tried to assess his opponents, to see how they fought.
Not today.
“Friends of yours?” Selina asked from the other side of the table.
His voice was a low growl. “Hardly.”
They charged and Rion drew the knives at his belt and let them fly, his magic in their wake. The assailants parried his blades and lunged. Rion drew his sword and met them blow for blow.
Chairs throughout the restaurant scooted across the floor and screams filled the air when Rion tossed one of his assailants down the long hall, a blade protruding from his heart.
Tables tumbled over and another blade slashed out, forcing Rion to tilt backward, barely moving in time before he lost his balance and tumbled backward over the table. It fell with him and Rion’s back hit the ground hard. The male lunged, but Rion pulled his knees in and kicked the table. It hit the male’s shins followed by a resounding crack. The male screamed, then Rion’s magic engulfed him.
Rion rolled back to his feet, the world tilting as he did. He ducked under another blade, then lunged at another and buried his blade up to the hilt in the male’s torso.
He fell and didn’t move again.
Another lunged from his left, roots reaching out from the floorboards. The tendrils wrapped around Rion’s ankles, yanking him from his feet. Rion caught himself and twisted away, using the earth to strangle the roots and vines before it dove for his attacker’s airways.
His vision blurred further.
The antidote. He had the antidote. Rion reached inside his satchel, but a boot planted itself in the side of his face, knocking him to the floor again. Vines latched onto his wrists and arms and torso, all squeezing. Thorns tore through his flesh, sawing back and forth as they stretched and tightened.
Rion roared. The planks of the floorboards splintered and shattered beneath the pressure of the earth tearing up from beneath. He shoved tendrils and grains in all directions, relished in the sound of the whimpers that followed.
Rion rose and a fist landed across his jaw, knocking him back to his knees. Another tried to follow, but Rion grabbed the male’s closed hand. He met the frightened warrior’s gaze and slowly stood, squeezing that hand until the bones cracked beneath the pressure of his magic.
The male cried out. A chair flew at him from his right, but Rion’s magic rose of its own accord and shattered it in the air. The splinters fell away and Rion turned his hateful gaze on his enemy. They stepped back, their chests heaving.
He snapped his teeth and used his magic to prevent them from escaping. A hand severed. Then an ankle. He slammed his magic into the nearest male’s torso and punctured the ribcage of another.
His world tilted. Spun.
Selina.
Rion whirled, looking for her, fear suddenly snaking down his spine. He hadn’t been aware enough. If he’d—she still stood beside their table, an empty vial already in hand. But she was . . . frozen, as if in shock. Warriors didn’t go into shock.
“The hell are you doing?” he slurred, then reached inside his satchel, withdrew another vial, and downed the contents. He was only supposed to take half, but he couldn’t afford to take too little. Not with Selina here and his body on the verge of giving out. If they went after her next—
Footsteps sounded behind and Rion twisted, but Selina was faster, her blades hitting fatal marks.
The world fell silent. Mostly. Those who’d taken cover were whimpering and praying to the gods for their own survival. Many were hidden behind overturned tables and chairs, doing their best to protect their heads and vital points.
Rion observed them, looking for any who might be ready to join his now-dead assailants before turning toward Selina. His breath came labored and ragged. His pulse was sluggish.
He should have known better. Shouldn’t have been so distracted by the idea of having dinner with a pretty female.
A female who’d suggested they come here in the first place.
She wouldn’t—panic seeped through him. Had his first instinct been right? Had she been stringing him along all this time just waiting for an opportunity to—
Selina ran at him, but he reacted too slow. She ducked under his arm and—draped it across her shoulder. His gaze flickered to hers, uncertain. She watched the bodies on the floor, then the patrons now rising to assess whether they were safe. She sniffed the air, then tugged him along.
His magic rose up and surrounded her. She froze, her own breath labored. “Are you in control?” she whispered. That was fear stinging his nose now. Fear of the sand wrapping around her body, snaking along her skin, uncertain and confused.
To trust or not to trust. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
She nodded. She was trembling but didn’t back away. “Well, control it, I’d rather not lose a limb today.” He breathed, then heaved again. Nothing came up. “We need to move,” she said, “That way, out the back.” Rion followed her finger and only nodded.
It was broad daylight; there wouldn’t be anywhere for them to hide.
Selina slammed open the heavy door, then released him long enough to unfold a cloak from her pack. She fastened it across his shoulders, pulled up the hood, then wrapped her arm around him again.
“No one will find us now,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re just another drunk guest. The citizens on the streets won’t think twice.”
The citizens. He squinted against the harsh sun. She planned to try to disappear into the crowd. Perhaps she hoped that would stay his assailant’s hand.
“Can you walk?”
He didn’t realize how heavily he’d been leaning on her. “I don’t know.” It felt like the only thing he could say.
She chewed her lip and pulled him forward. Rion’s feet obeyed. His entire body was numb now and it felt like trying to walk after one’s limbs had fallen asleep. He tried to watch the crowd as they went. If they were attacked, he wouldn’t have any choice but to defend himself. And the civilians would be caught in the crossfire.
Each step felt like an eternity. Like his world was spinning through an endless vortex. His stomach rolled again, but Rion held it at bay. Sweat rolled down his face, plastering his hair against his forehead. He wanted to wipe it away but couldn’t lift his hand to do so.
Rion found a corner and he wretched again, spitting out bile. Selina rubbed his back and smiled to those passing by, offering comments about him not being able to control his liquor. Most laughed it off. He ignored them.
Selina grabbed his arm again and he only looked up when she opened a familiar door and ushered him inside. The innkeeper rushed to greet them, but Rion’s sand rose up to create a barrier. Selina quickly told the male they were fine, using the same line that Rion had simply drank too much and needed some water and rest.
The male offered to bring some up. Rion had no plans to drink it.
A long, grueling climb up the stairs, then they were in the room. Selina guided him to the bed and Rion let his heavy body fall onto the mattress, his stomach still rolling.
Selina’s feet padded across the rug and wooden floor, the sound rattling through his skull. He tilted his head to watch, anyway. She paused at her pack, holding two vials in her hands.
He wondered if one were something other than medicine. Wondered again if she’d been involved in the whole ordeal.
Gods, he’d been so stupid and careless. He knew better. He knew not to get distracted. Knew Foley and countless others were out to get him, and yet he’d still taken a drink from strangers. Still let his guard fall entirely.
Selina finally turned from her bag and paused when she caught him staring. She crossed the room and he noted her scent, tried to piece together her intentions.
Gods, his head was pounding.
“You need to take this.”
He eyed her again, then the vial. The liquid within carried a greenish hue. “That looks as if it’ll kill me faster.”
“It won’t.” Truth, as far as he could tell.
“I already took the antidote.”
“I saw. But if that’s the only thing you opt to take, then you’re in for a rough couple of days.”
He draped an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the blinding light. “I’ll take my chances.”
“If I wanted to kill you, I would have just left you there.”
“Maybe you don’t think they could have finished the job.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again, then braved stepping into the sand still circling his body. Rion pulled it away from her feet, still concerned it might strike out against his will.
Her voice was gentle when she spoke again. “I promise I’m not trying to kill you. It’ll help with the headache and get the toxin out of your system.”
Rion looked at her, then the vial again before finally holding out his hand. Numbers were etched into the glass. He sat up slowly and she moved to help him, keeping one hand on his shoulder.
He popped the cork and sniffed. It smelled terrible. Rion downed the entire thing and eased back onto the bed, praying he could keep it down.
“Give it about thirty minutes to kick in and you should start feeling better.”
He grunted an answer. She went to the fire. Flint struck steel. The water flipped on, then metal clicked. He turned to find her standing before a small flame, feeding it to life. Every sound was a blasting echo in his skull.
He didn’t realize he’d faded off until she placed a mug on the side table and he jolted. Selina muttered an apology and returned to the fire. Rion glanced out the window. Dusk was settling, which meant he’d been out a lot longer than he’d intended.
He rubbed his temples and sat up slowly. His head, thankfully, had stopped pounding. Rion eyed the mug and though his body shivered, wishing for a warm drink, he didn’t take it.
“There’s more medicine in the tea,” Selina said, eyeing him as he scooted to the edge of the bed. “It’ll make sure the headache won’t come back.”
He hadn’t seen her make it, though she hadn’t tried to slit his throat while he’d slept either.
Rion took the mug in his hands and sipped on the nearly scalding brew.
It tasted bitter, as if the leaves had steeped too long.
Rion flexed his fingers, glad to find the numbness gone, then he tried standing. The dizziness was gone, too.
“What’s in that medicine?” he asked as he inched closer to the fire. Weak. His body felt so weak.
“It’s an old family recipe. I’d have to kill you if I told you.”
He smirked. He felt . . . better and not better at the same time. Like all the acute symptoms and pain were gone but had left an ache in his bones.
Selina offered him a blanket. He lifted a brow. “I went down the hall when you were asleep. Your magic was . . . erratic, so I didn’t risk putting it on you. Sit by the fire, warm up, and make sure you drink the rest of that. There’s more if you need it.”
Gods she was just as pushy as Saoirse, but . . . he couldn’t deny enjoying it just a little.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
His stomach soured at the thought. “Not unless you want the rugs to have a fresh stain.”
She grimaced. “Right. I’ll make sure breakfast is light then.”
They stood in awkward silence for a time, then Rion took the chair beside the fire while she took the one by the desk. An assortment of documents was scattered over the surface along with a page half full of notes.
She scribbled a few more things at the bottom of the page and Rion sipped his mug slowly, letting the warmth coat his stomach.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft. Small.
“What for?” His heart beat just a little faster as his mind conjured the worst of scenarios.
“For announcing you. If we’d just gone somewhere else, none of that would have happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Foley knows I’m here. I’m willing to bet those were his warriors trying to get rid of us before we become a problem.”
“You don’t think the restaurant staff was involved?”
Rion shook his head, an action he regretted when his neck muscles pulled. “If they were, they were under coercion.”
“They’re probably hightailing it out of the city.” He nodded. “Will you go after them?”
He studied the question in her gaze. “No.” She loosed a breath. “But I doubt I’ll be dining anywhere else anytime soon. I’d suggest you do the same.”
“You’re telling me that I’m in a city surrounded by incredible food and I can’t partake?”
“Not unless you want to end up in the same position I’m in.”
“It’s almost worth the risk,” she grumbled.
“I assure you, it’s not.”
“This next week is going to be torture. It’s like dangling alcohol before an alcoholic.”
“I’d steer clear of that, too.”
She threw up her hands. “Great. No delicious food and now no alcohol. Just tie me up and throw me to the wolves now.”
“That can be arranged. Foley is quite wolfish.”
“I’d rather die.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to wait until the ball. Surely they wouldn’t risk poisoning their guests.”
Rion watched the fire, feeling warmth return to his limbs. “You’ve . . . dealt with a lot who’ve been effected by the poison, haven’t you?”
She stopped writing. “I was on the first set of teams sent out. The things we saw . . . let’s just say I won’t be forgiving anyone involved and will personally make sure they pay for the lives they’ve stolen.”
“I’m not against ensuring they never stand trial.”
“Good. They don’t deserve to.”
He sipped his drink again. His stomach churned. “How long until the body aches stop?”
“Likely not until morning. If you hadn’t taken a double dose of the antidote, I would have already given you another. If you were a half-breed, your heart would have likely stopped in minutes.”
“Glad to be Fae then.”
Selina refilled his mug twice, despite him claiming he could do it himself. She added more medicine and Rion found himself dozing again.
“You should get some more sleep. We have things to do tomorrow and I need you on your feet.”
Rion eyed the bed. “Are you sure you don’t want—”
She pointed. “I’m busy, go rest.”
He finished his mug, then stumbled back to the bed where he slept harder than he had in years.