Chapter 23
The meeting between Rina and the leshy went smooth. Aster and Yuri accompanied them, everyone else sent off to mind their own business for the afternoon. Midway through talks with the leshy, Rina’s scent shifted from general frustration to relief, then pleased. Gunnar didn’t mention it when they walked home. Rina remained stiff toward both of them but agreed when Audrey offered to draft up a document so E could magically seal the agreement.
After dragging all the zmei meat and bones—a damn fortune—to Yuri and the pack and dealing with Zhadan’s bitching about it, everything more or less went back to normal.
Almost.
Gunnar spent his evenings with Mateo and Tomas, as per Rina’s demands, meeting them at the tavern after sundown. The third day, he arrived a bit early.
Rina remained standoffish, while Audrey busted her ass over drafting the agreement. Until that was done, they only had words, nothing binding with the leshy. He supposed that kind of thing might make him twitchy too.
Virtue might have had some insight into Rina’s mood, though. It was common knowledge they were lovers beyond Virtue’s services.
When Gunnar stopped at the bar, Aster greeted him with a wide smile. She set a mug of Clan mead down like she’d pulled it out of her sleeve.
“Evening, Gunnar,” she said, her voice singsongy.
“Evening.” He took a sip, wary about the warm welcome. Sure, Audrey deserved that kind of affection. He’d done nothing but escort her home from meeting the leshy, yet Aster hadn’t stopped grinning at them both since.
Gunnar cleared his throat. “Audrey loves those flowers,” he offered, trying for casual conversation even though it made his teeth hurt. “She keeps them on the kitchen table and waters them every day.”
Aster wrinkled her pert nose. “Humans are so strange. I told her they will not die unless I do.”
He and Aster kept a companionable silence until he finished his drink. “You seen the new guys?”
“Virtue’s.”
Another reason to stop by. “Thanks.”
When he stepped into the brothel, the greeting room was empty, but he didn’t have to wait long. Innocence and Tomas wandered out of his room a few minutes later, reeking of sex and absinthe. The incubus had his head ducked against Tomas’s ear, whispering, the young vileblood flushed to his ears.
“Ah, Gunnar! My favorite visitor who never visits me!” Innocence winked, his kimono barely tied at his narrow hips. He let go of Tomas with a pat on the man’s ass, sauntering over to pour himself a glass of absinthe from the corner bar, faerie lights twinkling in gold and pink. “Virtue is still busy, but my offer stands as usual. You can ask Tomas here if you need a referral into my mouth.”
Tomas made a choking noise, his scent near panicked before he muttered a goodbye and bolted from the room.
“Tactful,” Gunnar drawled.
Innocence shrugged. “He wasn’t complaining a few minutes ago.”
Gunnar couldn’t help a smirk but sobered quickly. “She with Mateo now?”
“Mmhmm.” Innocence drew out the sound as he flopped on the couch. He swirled his drink, gaze dragging lazily over Gunnar’s body.
“First time they came?”
Innocence snickered into his drink. “First, second, third. At least for young Tomas.”
Gunnar walked right into that one. “I mean the vilebloods coming to the brothel. Need to know they’re not causing trouble.”
Innocence rolled his eyes. “All business, no fun. But yes, today was the first time they visited.”
“They behave?”
“Why, Mr. Gunnar, do you truly want me to answer that question?”
He threw up his hands. “Never mind. I’ll just ask Virtue, since you’re such a pain in the fucking ass.”
“Oh, darling, you have no idea.” Innocence tipped back his drink, then set the empty glass aside, waving a hand at Gunnar when he snarled. “Sorry, sorry, here I am playing while you’re being so very serious about my well-being. Tomas was fine, polite even. Quite na?ve, actually, but very, very excited to learn.” Innocence studied him for a moment, the endless sexual bravado peeling back. “Do we have reason to be concerned?”
“Dunno,” Gunnar said honestly and gave Innocence a brief rundown of what he knew about the men so far and his role as babysitter. “They’re young, not much exposure beyond being locked up.”
“And we’re worried what freedom might inspire?”
“Can argue all you want the Accord was wrong, but it happened for good reason.”
Innocence hummed again, crossing his legs and leaning forward on his elbows. “Imagine talking about one’s nature in such a removed way. How the Accord that buried you in prison for your entire life only for the crime of being born was there ‘for good reason.’” He bared his teeth, perfect white, pointed tips flashing. His scent spiked with power and a raw, wounded rage. “Let them all burn, on high, assigning fates as if they don’t have the capacity for far, far worse in their oh-so-righteous hearts.”
“Doesn’t change what we are,” Gunnar said, unphased by the bristling incubus. He’d just fed, and while he was powerful, Innocence wasn’t a fighter.
A huff, and he returned to his bar. “As if control can’t be learned. Or better yet, taught.” He poured a second glass, sauntering over to Gunnar and offering it between two finely manicured nails. When Gunnar accepted, Innocence clinked their glasses. “Cheers then, to the monsters at the cold-ass end of the Earth, apparently where we belong.”
He could drink to that, but winced at the burn.
And at the intruding thought of Audrey being stuck here with the monsters.
Innocence said nothing else, wandering down the hall and disappearing into his room, his scent a kind of melancholy Gunnar had never caught on the man before.
Virtue emerged with Mateo then, who was clearly more comfortable in this setting than Tomas. He smiled at Virtue, hooked elbow to elbow with her, and she seemed pleased as punch.
When Mateo saw Gunnar, he stiffened.
“It’s still early, just came to talk to Virtue,” Gunnar said, setting his empty glass down with the others.
“Alright.” Mateo glanced between him and Virtue, then shrugged. He kissed Virtue on the cheek, mumbled, “See you soon?” She nodded, and he saw himself out.
“You can settle in the room,” Virtue offered, adjusting her robe. “I’ll shower.”
“Not today,” Gunnar said, gaze jumping to her face. “Just checking in.”
Virtue perked an elegant brow as she leaned against the brocade wall. “About?”
“The vilebloods, for one. Innocence said this is their first time around.”
“Worried about their control?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re fine.” She canted her head slightly, studying him. “If that changes, we’ll tell you.”
“Good.”
“And?”
Gunnar couldn’t help but chuckle. Virtue didn’t mince words if fucking wasn’t involved. “I wanted to ask you about Rina.”
“Tread carefully, Gunnar. We might be friends, but we’re not that close.”
She didn’t smell like lies when she said it, but he still had trouble believing she considered him an actual friend. Didn’t really matter though. “Just wondering how long she’s liable to be bent out of shape about the leshy. Audrey’s worried.”
“Hmm, can’t have that. You’re so restless if your human is unhappy.”
“She’s not—”
“Hush, Gunnar. We all got the memo the day Rina’s cousin came through.” She folded her arms, her scent smug, her expression worse, and he hated the damn twinkle in her glowing eyes. “Rina will come around when she’s ready and not before. Give her space. And try to avoid directly defying her again if you can help it?” A small pause, and Virtue sighed. “Audrey was right, and Rina knows it. Getting the magical anchors in place around the agreement with the leshy will help ease the sting.”
“Figured as much. Thanks.” Gunnar turned to go, then hesitated. “You might want to check on Innocence.”
A pause. “I will.” When he reached the doorway, Virtue added, “Thank you for looking out for us both.”
“Yeah, sure. Just doing what I’m told.” He ducked out before she could respond.
The vilebloods were clean trackers and efficient hunters. On the fourth night, Gunnar shadowed, watching them work their assigned area. Their quota for the first week was lean, being they were two hunters sharing a single land parcel. Gunnar didn’t doubt they’d meet it. He left them around midnight, after they brought down a pair of roving bauks with minimal struggle.
Three more days until the next train. No trouble so far from any quarter, but Gunnar still didn’t like it.
He hated the way they smelled. Mateo came from a different vilestar than him, and the knowledge just sat right under his skin and itched like mad, keeping his instincts on high alert. Tomas was worse, because his scent made Gunnar feel . . . he didn’t fucking know what, but he found it hard to hate the kid.
Maybe it was just a space thing; he’d been in forced proximity with them for four days. If they ended up part of the settlement, he’d do his best to avoid them altogether.
Gunnar slowed as he approached the cabin, keeping his steps light. Audrey slept by now, no sense waking her up with his stomping around about irritating dusters. He sighed as he opened the door, tension leaking out of him as he inhaled, drinking in sunshine at midnight.
He didn’t expect to find the source of that sunshine passed out at the kitchen table, papers spread everywhere, books stacked around her head. A cup of cold tea too, he noted as he stripped his outerwear and kicked off his boots. He crossed the room on cat feet, grinning at the ink smudged across her nose and cheek. Audrey’s chest rose and fell in a deep sleep, the papers near her face rustling. Aster’s gift, a beautiful bouquet of blue cornflowers, sat in the middle of the chaos.
Of course, she used an ink pot and quills even though modern pens would do the job. Until E magically bound the agreement, it was just words on paper. Gunnar shifted the inkpot to the other side of the crowded table so it wouldn’t spill on all her hard work.
Her Russian dictionary was one of the open books. He chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. Audrey leaned into the gentle touch with a soft murmur.
Gunnar drew back his hand, swallowing. He considering waking her; she was drooling on her papers, couldn’t have that, but she looked so damn tired. Mind made up, he plucked the quill from her half open hand, then scooped her up in his arms. She grumbled, then she blinked up at him, half-asleep.
“You fell asleep working, putting you in bed.”
“Oh.” She yawned, then nuzzled into his chest as those delicate fingers, spotted with ink, curled around his shirt. “Okay.”
Gunnar chuckled; he was pretty sure she was already asleep again. He toed her bedroom door open, kneeling as he set her gently on her bed. She grunted again—almost sounded like a snort, and he bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Her forehead scrunched up, but she didn’t open her eyes again, her hands chasing after him as he rocked back on his heels. He wasn’t sure why, but he brushed his thumb over that unhappy crease between her brows. She sighed in her sleep, the tension abating and her little frown fading into an almost smile.
Gunnar lingered, watching her sleep, watching her breathe, snippets from his conversations between Virtue and Innocence wading through his mind.
He’d call her his to keep her safe from the likes of Dimitri, sure, but she wasn’t his. No, a man like him didn’t get to have someone so pure and good, just wasn’t in the cards. But he let himself steal a moment, as she smiled in her sleep, reminding himself all that didn’t matter, so long as she was safe.
He could give her safety, so he would as long as she let him.