24. Winter
Aboon―that’s what it would have been had Winter gotten his hands on the letter from Raven’s father.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. He had to act on what was available to him, which wasn’t much.
Releasing a steadying breath and standing tall, he rapped his fist softly against the wooden doorframe.
He would have come here sooner had Chace not shown up, derailed Winter’s plan, and exhausted his time with pushy inquisition…and concern for Raven’s condition. Which, Winter had to admit, was well placed.
He couldn’t fault Chace for worrying. Similar feelings had driven Winter to check on Raven’s condition before continuing here. She had appeared restless and not much improved, and that… That sat uncomfortably in his gut.
“Enter,” Valen called through the open door. Not bothering to turn from his work, Valen kept his back to Winter. “I cannot recall the last time you graced me with your presence. To what do I owe the honor?”
Winter moved like shifting moonlight through the room, stepping between the various tables and shelves cluttered with books and bottles and oddball concoctions.
As he understood things, Valen fancied himself an alchemist. Always experimenting.
Always inventing. The likely reason Raven’s father thought the male could help Mr. Aldine.
Although, Mr. Aldine’s condition appeared much improved.
Still, checking in with the local experimenter and professed medicine master couldn’t hurt.
Winter shut the door to keep their conversation private from anyone traversing the outer hall, the action pulling at Valen’s attention. He turned to face Winter, a beaker in his hand.
As expected, Valen dressed in a fashion that stressed his self-importance. All circumstance, minus the pomp. The gent kept his long, black hair pulled taut, bound by a band, and his eyes lined and shadowed in coal.
“Have you come to me with a matter of great secrecy?” Valen said, a twinkle of devilry in his eyes.
Placing the beaker on the nearest table, he granted Winter his undivided attention.
Winter ran his fingers down the edge of the shelf at his side and drifted along the wall, deeper into the room. In so doing, he made sure he spoke farther from the cracks around the entrance.
Valen crossed his arms and leaned against the table at his back―his potion creation center. “Are you going to speak? Or do you wish to waste my time and frustrate my curiosity?”
Winter studied the empty bottles on the shelf, spun one of them between his fingers, not granting Valen the satisfaction of gazing upon his face and reading his thoughts. “I have this friend—”
“Would this be the female and her two misbegotten children living in the lower district?” A touch of disdain warped Valen’s words.
Winter snapped his head to the side, his glare finding Valen while he burned with his many emotions and intentions.
Valen merely grinned.
The expression made Winter’s blood border on broiling. He hated the fact that he stood in Valen’s workroom, seeking information that, as far as Winter knew, he couldn’t get anywhere else. Raven had asked for Valen, after all.
But Valen’s arrogance and air of superiority…
“No.” The word sounded little more than a growl. Winter sucked in a deep breath, anchoring his resolve. “And you are never to speak ill of Camilla or the twins. Should you do so again, I am not opposed to ripping your throat out.”
Valen waved Winter’s comment away like it was nothing more than a bug to be swatted.
“This friend was in a bad way,” Winter continued, making no effort to hide the fracture of irritation seething through his delivery. “A cursed way.”
Valen nodded, and secure in the knowledge that Winter had Valen’s full attention, Winter allowed his gaze to wander. He found it easier to say what needed to be said when he didn’t look directly at the vain male.
“Their status has recently improved, but I don’t know how much better they truly are at this point.
Your name was brought up—not by me, I might add.
” Winter glanced at Valen, but his apathetic expression gave no indication of his current emotion.
“One of their connections suggested you might be able to help.”
“Connections?” Valen straightened. “How many are in this group of friends?”
Winter raised three fingers.
“And have you known them long?”
“Long enough,” he replied with a bite, because the answer to that question wasn’t really any of Valen’s business.
“How long?” Valen curled his hands around the edge of the table, his knuckles bleaching white. “Tell me.” His voice rose in volume and temper. “How long have you known these friends?”
“You do not need to know that.”
Visiting Valen had been a mistake. Winter’s temperament did not suit the current conversation. He turned to leave.
Valen’s hand dropped onto his shoulder and spun him around.
Winter opened his mouth to argue, but at the weight of Valen’s hand and the burn of his eyes, his resistance evaporated.
Two full days had passed since Winter’s conversation with Valen, and irritation still burned within him. The pompous male always managed to extract any information he wanted, willing or otherwise.
And in return, he’d provided no magical cure.
Even as Winter stood at the curbside vendor, awaiting his grocery provisions, he couldn’t stop thinking about the exchange.
At least Valen had loosely consented to check on Mr. Aldine.
Something he likely considered a huge favor to Winter, and one he no doubt intended to collect upon at the most inconvenient time.
Valen had made a show of how put out he felt at having to travel deep into the lower district to visit Winter’s friend at the pub.
His friend. Winter scoffed.
He didn’t know Mr. Aldine at all, other than what the guy looked like laid out on the street or in a bed. But Winter had sought Valen’s help for Raven. Mr. Aldine’s health was important to her, and so Winter did what he could to ensure it.
Only, since talking to Valen, Winter hadn’t made it back to the pub to check on the guy or Valen’s visit. He hadn’t even stopped in to see Aoes. Returning to the pub meant taking the chance of running into Chace, and Winter really didn’t want to see him or deal with further questioning.
Worn thin, Winter had little strength to suffer Chace anytime soon.
Plus, Winter didn’t remotely savor the idea of getting trapped in any lies regarding Raven.
Too often, he wondered if he should have asked Valen to check on her, but he wasn’t yet desperate enough to extend that much trust in the guy’s medicine magic…or confidence regarding her existence and status.
“Your change, sire.” The gentle voice yanked Winter free from the snarl of his emotions.
With a slight press of his hand, he motioned for the grocer to keep the change, then he lifted the box of provisions and turned up the street. Filling Camilla’s pantry was the least he could do, considering the burden he’d thrust upon her with Raven’s care.
He’d barely made five steps across the street before a familiar voice bellowed at his back, calling out his name.
After the years of their friendship, getting in and out of trouble just for the fun of it all, Winter doubted he could ever forget the tenor of Aoes’s voice or the sense of belonging that came with the sound of him.
Not wanting his friend to see the strain upon his body and dig into him deep with questions, Winter washed the tension from his muscles, both face and shoulders, and turned to meet Aoes’s approach.
“Where have you been?” Aoes jogged to a stop a few feet away. “You’d been coming by every day since our visitors arrived. Have you tired of them already? Or have you finally deemed them unworthy of your time?”
Now that he considered it, the sudden change in his visitation pattern to the pub could be observed as suspicious.
Winter filled his chest with air, released it slowly, and lifted the box higher. “I’ve been a little busy lately.”
Aoes nodded, his attention dropping to the box of groceries. “How are Camilla and the kids?”
Winter forced a smile, but the feel of it, the taste of it, felt off. Almost foreign to him in the moment. “They’re doing all right. Thanks for asking.”
“Of course. Anytime. But you know…” Aoes bumped into his shoulder, an act Winter knew signified something questionable was about to follow. “I was kind of hoping the answer to where you’ve been included another individual. Possibly someone well-endowed in a feminine way.”
Winter frowned. “You realize your description could easily apply to Camilla.”
Aoes jerked. “Well, yeah, um.” He stumbled to regain his mental footing. “You aren’t, are you?”
Winter shook his head and turned away. “I need to get this to Camilla’s, but I’ll come to see you soon. I promise.”
“So…” Aoes continued, tugging Winter’s retreat to a halt. “You’ve been spending your time with Camilla and not with Raven?”
Winter readjusted his hold on the box, and as casually as he could, he turned back to face his long-time friend. “What are you trying to insinuate?”
Aoes took several strides forward, closing the distance between them once more. “It’s just, Raven hasn’t been back to the pub in several days. And neither have you.” He shrugged. “I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at each other the last time you were both at the pub together.”
Winter didn’t look at her in any particular way that could be discerned as different from how he looked at other beautiful, intriguing females—mostly. Taking in her lips, eyes, hair, hips, breasts…
As for Raven, he’d noticed nothing special in the way she treated him, talked to him, or looked at him. Until the night before her injury, she hadn’t given him much of her time. Of course, he wouldn’t mind if she did look at him in that special kind of way.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Winter said.
“Just keep telling yourself that. I know she’s your spice, the flavor to make life far less bland and distract your mind from…other things.” Aoes sighed. “And I was really hoping she was with you…because the alternative is concerning.”
Winter didn’t know what to say to assure his friend of Raven’s safety. Given her current condition, he wasn’t so sure assurances were in order.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” He hated the taste of the lie on his tongue.
“Hope so. Mr. Aldine asks about her all the time. And since Chace went missing a little over a day ago, I don’t know what to tell him.”
“Chace is missing, too?” Winter couldn’t believe his ears.
He knew Raven’s location, but what could have become of Chace? Winter’s thoughts leaped to the first night he’d laid eyes on all three of them. Life-devouring specters had swarmed them.
“You don’t suppose, after everything that happened to Mr. Aldine, that Chace decided to pack up and head out?” Winter asked.
“No.” Aoes shook his head. “I know they’ve been extra cautious since their experience, and I don’t believe Chace would take off without leaving word.”
Aoes might not believe such behavior fitting of Chace, but what did he really know about the guy? Aoes only met Chace for the first time a week or two ago.
The same was true for Winter with regard to Raven. He didn’t know anything about her, and yet he needed to get back to Camilla’s and check on her healing.
“Plus,” Aoes added. “Ace thinks I don’t notice, but he’s extremely attentive to the old dude’s needs. He wouldn’t bail on him.”
Maybe. Maybe not. How could any of them be certain what these new strangers would and wouldn’t do?
“I don’t know what to say,” Winter admitted.
Aoes slouched. “There’s nothing to say. Just keep an eye out for the two of them and let me know if you see anything.”
“Of course.” Winter attempted to push away the onslaught of guilt that washed over him.
Aoes slapped Winter’s shoulder, then he turned and trod down the street, back in the direction of the pub.
Several strides into his departure, he glanced over his shoulder. “Come see me soon, all right?”
Winter gave him a solemn nod and watched his friend walk away. Once Aoes had turned a corner and moved out of sight, Winter made haste to Camilla…and Raven.
A growing murder of crows gathered in and beside the street near Camilla’s home, and their caws and flapping wings created a song marking Winter’s arrival.
No sooner had he let himself in through the front door and set the box of provisions on the table than a stampede of footfalls on the stairs greeted him.
Camilla swung into the room, her brown eyes wide, dress wrinkled, and hairs springing free of her plait.
She gripped the doorframe to hold her course and control her speed. “Thank the gods you’re back.”
Every hair on his body jumped to attention. “What? What is it?”
Camilla panted. “She awoke a few minutes ago. Screaming.”