Chapter 3 #2
Bria had always worn a single piece of jewelry: a necklace she’d come across years ago when she started her smuggling business.
It was supposed to protect her somehow, warning her of ill intentions.
She claimed it glowed and buzzed when it sensed someone was a danger.
Relics were specific like that. The magic inside the bloodlines could be wielded at the user’s whim, but artifacts were pieces of the essence themselves, coded for a specific function.
“I can do it,” I offered. “You’re working. I’ll go.” The dice were burning a hole in my pocket. I just wanted to get the deal done and make it home in time to see Mother before she fell asleep.
“Nina, I don’t think—”
“It’s been a while, Leon.” I gripped the sweating glass between my anxious fingers. “I’m just going to go up there and take a peek.”
Leon glanced behind me before shaking his head. “Don’t go telling her I let you up there. She’d never forgive me.”
“Then turn around.”
His blue eyes shut briefly, but he eventually turned his back and pretended to be busy arranging a few crystal glasses. I shot back the remainder of my drink, letting the clear liquid ease the nerves clenching my stomach, before spinning in my seat to spring to the staircase.
Bria and I were closer than sisters at this point. I’d made her plenty of crowns in the years I’d worked for Broussard, passing her items from bodies who didn’t need their possessions.
She’d never mentioned it to anyone else, but she was desperate to get into the Academy, the university that overlooked Valveron, that gave the city its reputation of unprecedented scientific innovation.
What she really wanted was to be an engineer and move her way up in the city, yet she was born in the Fissures without the money or the recommendation of anyone notable for a scholarship to the most prestigious school in the realm.
But the black market had been profitable and allowed her to network.
She knew her business, and she’d built a nice list of contacts and references working near the bridges that led to the other side of the canal.
She knew practically everyone, high and low, rich and poor, engineer and peddler.
The landing led to a wraparound balcony, overlooking the entire tavern.
Beyond was a narrow entryway leading to a private room where Bria usually did business after her shift.
Positioned right above the office belonging to the bar’s owner, Opal.
Bria’s business brought Opal business, enough that she turned a blind eye each time she caught someone ascending the staircase.
I tapped lightly on the mahogany door, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment before letting myself inside. The dull murmur of voices ceased immediately, followed by the harsh sound of a chair being pushed back. Before I could reach the brass handle, the door nudged open.
“What are you doing here? I told you to wait!” Bria whispered through the crack.
“I can’t! Do you see how late it is?”
She let loose a sharp breath, glancing back inside. “Just go home; I’ll meet you later.”
“This is important—”
A throat cleared inside the room. A voice as deep and smooth as crushed velvet inquired, “You have a guest, Bria?”
It was him—the outsider from the surgery. His voice was too easily recognizable, deep enough to resonate through a noisy tavern, a treacherous calm to it, like the sea just after a storm. He had healed well, then, if he was already on his feet.
“She was just leaving,” Bria bit out, glaring at me. I covered my lips with a finger, begging her discretion.
The same voice told her, “It’s no trouble. I’m the one who dropped in on you, after all. Go ahead and do your business. And don’t worry, I won’t look at your cards.”
Bria turned slightly to look back at the man, smiling politely. I’d never seen her so flustered. “Thank you. Give us a brief moment.” She opened the door wider to let herself through, just enough to reveal the room.
He was too busy with his cards and his drinks to notice me peeking around the threshold.
The outsider had come straight from the surgery, wearing nothing but his coat over his bare chest. His skin had returned to a warm tone, nearly golden in the gas lamps.
A hood partially concealed his silver hair still, while one stubborn lock fell in front of his right eye.
He reached for a half-empty glass, keeping his gaze low and unconcerned with my interruption.
Judging from the color of the drink, the viscosity of it as it poured thick from the spout, he’d ordered a few pints of blood, possibly from my own recommendation.
Opal’s wares didn’t have any bloodlines, but they would still return his strength back to baseline.
Bria’s usual cabinet of wares was locked up, untouched.
They’d been playing a common card game, Lady Luck.
Both sets of cards were lying face down while the outsider swirled his drink in bored assessment.
“Well?” Bria shut the door behind her, leaving us alone in the hall. “What is so pressing that you had to interrupt?”
I dug into my pocket and turned out the pouch with the dice. “Does he want them or not? I have to go.”
Bria eyed me, plucking the pouch from my outstretched palm.
Only those trained in coding essence could sense the weight of different enchantments, the structure of the codes directing the energy source to do what it was instructed.
She took one look inside the pouch before her eyes went wide. “Take these back.”
“What—”
“You need to get out of here now,” she whispered, shoving the pouch into my chest. “Take those cursed things and throw them into the sea, and don’t tell anyone you touched them.”
“You’re being illogical. I know he’s been looking for them, which means you can use that to your advantage to barter with him.” I pushed my hand into her stomach, encouraging her to take them. She shoved my wrist back.
Bria shook her head. “He wasn’t going to pay me for the relics. He wanted to know who turned them in so he could hunt them down, and he was playing me to figure out if I was telling him the truth. Nina, he’ll kill you. There’s no price worth seeing your head roll.”
“Well, I don’t want them!” I whispered. My brain sent an alarm through my body, setting my pulse racing, my breath tight in my chest.
“I can’t take them now!” She took a deliberate step away. “He’ll know you brought them.”
He would easily make the connection if she suddenly appeared with them now, would write his own explanation and figure out the truth of my motivations.
He’d realize I’d gone behind his back to make money off his misfortune.
No… I couldn’t sell them now. I was too late.
He already knew where I worked, and he’d find me even if I managed to get away.
I swallowed, tucking the dice deep into my pocket. “I’m going to go home now.”
She nodded curtly. “That would be a very good idea.”
The double doors opened abruptly, pulled apart by the outsider. He stood there, towering over both of us. Those eyes like liquid fire, practically glowing.
“I want another drink if I’m going to be made to wait. On the house.” His words were lazy, as if he were half-drunk already, with a kind of arrogance that hadn’t been present on my table. His stare flickered to me. “Hello again, Nina. Funny running into you here. I thought you were busy tonight.”
He was different at his full strength. Gone was the vulnerable man who’d obeyed my orders, the weakness that had softened all the sharp edges of his face. This version of him was dangerous. Even worse, he seemed to realize it.
The outsider braced himself against the top of the threshold with a single hand, leaning close enough that his breath stirred the messy curls near my ear. Through pure willpower, I dragged my focus to meet his gaze. Holding it.
“You recovered quickly,” I managed to say.
“Yes.” He smiled. A violent warning lined the seams of his lips. “Probably quicker than you planned, I suppose.” He gestured to the table behind him. “Now that you’re here, why don’t you play a round with us?”
“That’s kind of you, but I need to get home.”
His brows pinched, disappointed. “Just one game. I have a feeling you’re lucky.”
I was far too broke to be in anyone’s debt. My hand absentmindedly pressed over the bulge in my pocket, drawing a flicker of his attention. “I’m not feeling very lucky tonight.”
This made him smile. The expression didn’t soften the severity of his features. Instead, it turned every line of his face to a sharp, fierce beauty. “We could play something else. Something without cards.”
“Nina needs to get home, I’m afraid. She’s very late.” Bria slid the words between her teeth, glaring at me. Her necklace, I noticed, glowed a deep green.
Not good.
“Nina.” The outsider whispered my name, his grin relaxing. He let go of the doorframe to close the distance between his lips and the pounding pulse in my temple. A metallic breath misted my cheek. “You got any dice, Nina?”
He’d called my bluff too easily, and I knew at once I was marked for death.
I sent a fist into his side, the same one I had sutured just an hour ago. He might heal quickly, but that wound had been deep. A cheap shot, but the blow sent him doubling over, stealing the stupid smirk from his face.
While he was folded in half, I turned and launched myself over the banister, feeling his fingers skim through the length of my hair.
The landing on the bar was hard and startling. Glasses shattered, and women shrieked as they dropped their cocktails. My knees gave out from the sudden impact while my boots slipped over the polished top and threw my weight forward, but I caught myself before I toppled over the edge.
“Nina, what the hell are you doing?” Leon spoke through the shield of his arms as glass shards and clear spirits made a mess across the bar.