17. Chace
What in reaping hell?
Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse.
The sound preceded the sight, reaching to the street beyond the pub and slapping discomfort across my chest and jaw. I shoved open the pub’s main door and…
Winter pounded a tune on the piano and merrily sang with Aoes, who held a pint in hand, the liquid sloshing with his jovial arm swings.
The melody―a song about drowning one’s sorrows over a lonely town and a lost love―was a tale that should have in no way been paired with an upbeat cadence.
Everything about the males’ rhythm and body movements was at odds with the ballad’s theme.
And the vocals… I winced and gritted my teeth against the ringing in my inner ears. The vocals were horrendous. Grating.
I paused in the entryway and fought back a groan. Rubbing my ears, I half expected to discover them bleeding, but my fingers came away clean.
Grimacing against the noise…and the content…I shoved the door open wider and ushered Raven through. My hand swung forward as if to press lightly to her lower back, but I caught myself inches before making contact. Jerking my arm back, I curled my hand into a loose fist.
What was I thinking? Did I want to touch her?
I didn’t think I did. Such thoughts and desires went against everything I’d been raised to believe.
Yet…I swung my gaze to her exhausted and wounded form and sucked in a tight breath, the memory of last night still holding a predominate space in my head.
Her warmth, her breath, her perfect fit in my arms―intoxicating in ways I hadn’t expected. And my lips against her flesh…
Raven brushed past me, her hand held high, the blood from her wound seeping down her arm and dripping onto the floor. My attention momentarily snagged on her injury. Overcome with a sudden sense of restlessness, I shifted my weight and ground my teeth.
I might need to start toting around a first aid kit. Or, at least, clean swatches of fabric. Not because I worried about Raven’s health or possible pain, but because she’d left an easy-to-follow trail, should anyone want to take pursuit, and that could possibly have negative ramifications.
At least, I told myself, tried to convince myself, that was the reasoning behind my concern.
Raven stopped a foot inside the pub and glanced up at me, our eyes locking. My heart triple-thumped as my breath snagged in my throat.
Try as I might, I couldn’t quelch the emotions born from Raven’s earlier fumble. She could have ended up like Aldine, hurt and useless in completing our task. She could have been―
I slammed my eyelids shut.
“Fresh water and clean bandages,” I hollered, opening my eyes, and directing Raven to one of the many open chairs.
She shot me a defiant sneer and forwent the chair, marching toward the back of the room.
Aoes’s head swiveled in our direction.
He abruptly dropped his drink on top of the piano and rushed to Raven as the musical tune came to a curt halt. “Great gasher! What happened?”
“I’m fine.” She waved Aoes away, but he seemed unfazed in his mission.
He grabbed a bar towel and held it beneath her hand to capture any further blood droplets. With his hand clasped around her forearm, keeping her palm elevated, he led her to the washroom.
Something deep within me urged me to grab Aoes by the ear and wrench him away from her. An impulse I held at bay, even as I kept my gaze glued on her retreating form until she stepped into the back room.
She was proud. Anyone could see that. And, as disappointed as I’d been in the way events had played out, I suspected she was equally frustrated.
My eye twitching, I clenched and unclenched my fists three times.
Raven might have walked to the pub with her stature stiff and chin high, but the pinch of her lips and the crinkles at the edges of her eyes spoke to something more going on inside her head.
I sagged against one of the many pub tables, and a shaky, sarcastic laugh bubbled free from my throat. I shook and lowered my head.
She’s going to be fine. Just fine. And we’ll be back to attempting reapings tomorrow. After all, she can’t prove herself the better reaper like she’s been trying to do if she isn’t actively trying.
A tiny grin curled my lips. I so enjoyed watching her efforts. And if I was being honest, she was good. Hella good.
“What happened out there?”
I snapped my head up. Winter stood in front of me, his hands fisted on his hips and all kinds of accusations shooting from his glare.
I didn’t have the patience for Winter or his clear fascination with Raven. Both he and Aoes acted as if they’d never seen a female before.
They probably hadn’t. Not a new one in an extremely long time, anyway.
I hadn’t drilled them about their birth dates, so I had no idea how long each of them had existed in this deathless citadel.
The thought shone new light on Aoes’s overly friendly demeanor, and why Winter had paid a visit every day since our arrival—his flirtations with Raven growing ever more obvious.
I found the idea that Winter had always visited Aoes with such frequency hard to accept.
From what I had observed, Raven granted the visitor little of her time and consideration.
Did she find the prick as arrogant and annoying as I did?
I hoped so. Of course, she could have been far too focused on trying to best me, making the reaping endeavor a full-time job, to then take in the attention of others.
“Well?” A muscle in Winter’s jaw twitched. “How did Raven get hurt?”
I shoved past him and strode toward the bar. “Leave me alone. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
He grabbed the back of my cloak and yanked me around, bringing me face-to-face with his ugly mug. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
A growl slipped between my teeth. “Don’t touch me.”
Unless you want to lose a hand.
I reached for my compacted scythe then hesitated.
Winter had become a knife poking at my side. A blood-boiling nuisance. But he wasn’t a part of the assigned reaping task.
Forgoing my reaper tool, I drew my arm back and swung, punching the white-washed jackass in the nose. Our skin connected with a fleshy thump. He stumbled, his expression stunned, as I pulled my hand back, my knuckles bloody.
I fought a too-satisfied smile. I had wanted to do that since laying eyes on the cocky bastard.
And if Winter acted like a jealous beau with some sort of claim on Raven, then I would knock him down a peg or ten. Because, of the two of us, I held a stronger interest as her partner in the reaping. And whatever relationship he imagined existed served little claim…if any.
Winter touched his face and ogled the bloodstain upon his fingers. I didn’t know if I’d broken his nose, and I didn’t care. I only cared about the job, returning home, and maybe Raven and Aldine.
Winter’s eyes narrowed to near slits. He stalked closer, the atmosphere around him charged. His scrutinizing gaze dropped over me, his nostrils flaring, the rims of his pointy ears reddening. With a pivot, he turned and strolled away.
Reaping gods, I hated that dick.
I dropped into a chair and sighed. Crap of a day.
No more than a minute later, Aoes placed a pint of ale on the table before me. “The wound is ugly but clean. She should be fine.”
As if I was worried.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and mentally affirmed that I wasn’t, in any way, concerned about Raven.
Aoes slid into the seat beside me and laid his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged free of his touch, and if my rejection bothered him, he didn’t allow it to show.
“How about you?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“Yep.” I wasn’t sure.
I sucked in a deep-as-I-could-go breath. In long, out calm. Then I scratched my head, hoping to claw the unwanted debris from my mind.
The Royal Citadel of Veritas was a reaper’s test that put all other assessments and assignments to shame. Made them look like toddler games. But I refused to let the current job buckle my resolve.
Aoes pushed to a stand. “Raven mentioned she’s hungry, so I thought I would make a quick meal for everyone. What do you say?”
I nodded. Maybe food would fill the void in my gut. If not, a meal surely wouldn’t hurt. At the very least, preparing a meal would give Aoes a reason to be elsewhere and not pressing into my business.
He left me to stew with my pint of ale. And stew I did.
Winter and Raven entered the room and took a seat a few tables away.
I drank, something I rarely did, and closely regarded the way Winter helped Raven with her bandages.
She held her arm out, and he wrapped the dressing around and around her hand to swath her salve-covered wound with great care. He spoke softly with a gentle smile.
I rubbed my sternum against the sudden rush of indigestion.
Raven laughed at something he said, and her cheeks flushed. If she had seen what the messed-up locals looked like when they tackled her, she wouldn’t be laughing. Her insides would likely be twisting as mine did.
Because…the zombified citizens who attacked her might not have acted on their own.
Could they have been directed by the one I’d spied hiding in the shadows?
Something about that individual, about the situation, felt off, and I couldn’t explain why.
But if that were the case, why would someone want to organize the undead to attack Raven?
They’d shown no interest in me. Only her.
A sudden shiver of realization raced through me. I was staring a tad too intensely at Raven. What was wrong with me?
Averting my gaze, I returned my attention to the pending situation surrounding the souls of the citadel. Not Raven’s laugh, or smile, or the way she brushed her glossy, black hair to the side. Those things held little to no significance.
Even if she reacted to Winter in a manner I had not before witnessed.
Focus. My mental self-order echoed through my thoughts. The task.
Since we’d gotten off the train, I’d had nothing but one ugly question after another.