Chapter 7 #2
Monsters and humans mix in the now-crowded pub, clustered at tables or propped along the bar, and low conversation hums under the clink of glasses.
Leif catches my eye from behind the counter and tilts his head toward the kitchen, one brow raised in question. When I nod, he gestures towards the tables, so I slide into a booth that gives me a clear view of the door.
He appears a minute later with a plate of sliced beef and noodles in a rich, buttery sauce, and sets the bowl in front of me.
“Did you get settled in all right?” he asks, assessing my clothes with a subtle nod.
“Yeah,” I answer as stir my food, watching the steam rise. “Slept like the dead.”
He plants his hands on his hips, waiting like he knows something’s coming, so I don’t drag it out.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“You mentioned that,” he says as he glances at the bench opposite me. I tip my head in invitation, and the booth creaks under his weight as he slides in. “What kind of someone?”
“The kind who doesn’t want to be found.”
He grunts and drums his fingers on the table. “That describes half the people I know. Who is he hiding from?”
“The military, for sure,” I say, keeping my voice hushed. “Though if we’re being honest, he’d probably be just as unhappy to see me. Wherever he is, he’ll be lying low.”
I take a bite, and hum happily at the first taste of a warm meal in several days.
Leif purses his lips, crinkling his nose in thought. “There’s a growing crowd here in the city who are uncomfortable with the military’s grip. They keep things quiet, mostly underground. But you showing up as a fresh face with a military past? Even if you track them down, they won’t trust you.”
My eyes flick around the pub, taking in the mix of faces chatting in clusters. “Something tells me a lot of those ‘uncomfortable’ folks are in the room with us right now.”
Leif shrugs and leans back in the booth, his fingertips still tapping on the table. He doesn’t deny it, which is answer enough.
“Anything helps,” I add. “Even the smallest bit of information you can share.”
“Who is this person you’re after?”
My gaze drops to the table for a second. “Someone who meant a lot to me once.”
“Ah,” he says, with a knowing edge to his voice. “A scorned-lover story.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. “Something like that.”
“You’re sure they’re in the city?”
I study Leif for a moment, weighing how much he already knows. It’s enough to bury me if he wanted to, so I tilt my head from side to side.
“He’s been here for the last four years. Last I heard, he was spotted in the markets about six months ago.”
“Spotted by who?” Leif asks, suspicion sharpening his tone.
I chew my lip, gaze flicking once more around the room. “I had a contact in the city who kept an eye out for me.”
“Then why pull me into this?” he demands as he sweeps his hand up my frame. “Why not lean on them?”
I shake my head with a sigh. “He can’t know I’m still alive. It’s too dangerous.”
A burst of laughter erupts near the bar, and Leif’s gaze snaps that way until he’s satisfied it’s just noise, not trouble. His attention returns to me, and I take another bite and let the silence sit until I can’t bear it anymore.
“It’s important that I get his help,” I say at last.
His lips press into a thin line as he studies me, so I keep eating and give him room to think.
Something tells me he won’t be rushed.
After a long exhale, he mutters under his breath, “Why does ol’ Nelly always send me trouble?” He sits forward, leaning his elbows on the table. “I’ll ask around. Can’t promise anything, though.”
“Every little bit helps,” I say earnestly.
I don’t dare become hopeful, not with the size of the city, but the knot in my chest loosens by a fraction.
“You don’t have any idea where he might be staying?” Leif asks.
“No. My old contact would watch the mid-city markets, but knowing where someone picks up groceries doesn’t narrow it down much. If I know him, he wouldn’t shop at the same place twice in a row. Could live nearby, could be all the way across town.”
“Travels solo?”
“Mostly,” I say with a nod, “but he’s been seen with a couple of other humans before. A big redheaded man and a petite woman with blue hair.”
A flicker of something that looks like recognition flits across Leif’s face as his brows lift. “Blue hair’s a bold choice if you’re trying to stay invisible. Might give me something to work with.” He pauses as he scratches his beard. “Name?”
“Back then he went by Sebastian. Bash, usually. He’s a human scientist.”
“Military?”
I tilt my head from side to side. “Used to be.”
Leif grunts, folding his thick arms across his chest. “And how is it both of you ‘used to be’ military? They don’t exactly hand out discharge papers with a pat on the back.”
My guard goes up, and I mirror his crossed arms. “Like I’ve already explained, they believe I’m dead.”
“That explains you,” he says with another sweep of his eyes down my frame. “Doesn’t explain him.”
I lean forward, tapping my fingers on my thigh. “Joining wasn’t his choice, and neither was leaving. That’s all you need to know.”
He lifts his chin, eyes narrowing in challenge, but I set my jaw and hold his stare. After a few heavy seconds, he gives a curt nod toward the back of the building.
“Most of the real pushback happens out here on the edges of human territory. Don’t wander too deep, though.
It doesn’t matter how much sympathy you have when you’ve got military ink in your past. You’re still the enemy.
Best I can tell you? Watch, wait, and look for the ones trying hardest not to be noticed. I’ll put out feelers in the meantime.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly. “I mean it.”
He waves it off as he stands, brushing his hands on his apron and scanning the room once more. “Yeah, yeah. Finish eating. And since I’m doing you a favor, you can wash your own damn plate.”
He stomps off toward the bar, and I hide a small grin behind another bite.