Chapter 6 #2
Shit. I quickly look around before tucking it into the pocket of my cloak. I shut the drawer and lay the parchment on top of the scratches, scribbling frantically to reveal what was written—a note and a location.
I found her and she won’t be alone. I’m headed to Sylvanor. Meet at dusk. - A
My breath catches, remembering what he said when we fought. Is he talking about me? Despite my unease and the shiver coursing down my spine, I pocket the parchment.
If he’s headed north to Sylvanor, that means we’ll have to travel through the Twin Valley to track him. Despite my failed mission, a thought rises.
Perhaps I could drop in at some of the orphanages while we’re gone and ask questions. It would be tricky, but I bet I could sneak around Ezra and Ren to do it.
I finish looking through drawers, lifting the mattress, and touching the curtains but find nothing substantial to use. Exiting the room, I stride down the hall to find Ren next to Ezra as he finishes up his conversation with Helga.
“Did she show you where her son died?” I ask, barely above a whisper. Ren falls into step beside me with a glower as we head toward the son’s room.
“I thought you were quick with your killings?” Ren asks, indicating that he scented what I left behind—a crumpled and bloody male slumped in a chair. Surely they’ve cleaned it by now.
“I am,” I say casually, continuing forward.
“I guess having fun first doesn’t count?”
I ignore him but my brow arches, as he must think I slept with Helga’s son, leaving me to wonder if he scented the male’s lingering scent of arousal. It didn’t quite get that far, but he doesn’t know that.
He stops and grips my arm, yanking me back. “Stop fucking your targets. You left a mess, and Helga shouldn’t have had to see that,” Ren grinds out, as if he has any right to judge me on how I follow through with my missions.
I rip my arm back, craning my neck to hold his stare. I’m so close to his face I can feel his breath on my skin. “Do you think that was fun for me? You have no idea. Since when do you care about inn owners?”
Ren’s brows lower. “Since they’re an important part of our crown, that’s when.”
“Fuck the crown.”
A dark chuckle shivers at the edge of my mind, and my breathing picks up. Yet I somehow manage to maintain my composure while I stubbornly hold Ren’s gaze.
Is… that Alec’s voice? My irritation spikes, realizing that it is his voice I heard and that I must be going insane if I’m hearing him in my head.
Ren’s eyes intently scan my face, almost curiously, before his attention shifts behind me. Ezra walks up while Helga strides toward the front of the inn.
“Stop arguing, both of you,” Ezra clips, a flicker of frustration crossing his face when his eyes land on me. “And keep your voice down.”
I know that voicing my hatred for the crown out loud is close to crossing a line with both of them. Speaking so boldly about it is good enough to get me hanged or beaten.
Yet over these last few months, I’ve realized how much I want to leave this life behind. I can’t help but feel that if I knew more about my mission, we could have avoided this altogether. Because most of the time, Elion gives us the bare minimum.
Ezra steps closer as Ren huffs, walking down the hall a moment later.
“You need to watch what you say around him,” Ezra mumbles. “Ren will run straight to the king to report you for that. Don’t cross him anymore than you have. I’d hate to see you beaten for it.”
“Because we both know you wouldn’t stop it?” The cruel words leave me before I can stop them, unable to hold back my frustration. I know it’s not his fault, and I can’t blame him for not stepping in since Elion would most likely punish him for it.
“Seriously?” Ezra says.
Alec’s voice growls, forcing me to rub a hand over my face in an attempt to control my breathing and subtly scan the area. Gods, what’s happening?
Alec’s accusations had me fighting sleep last night. Perhaps that’s what I need—sleep. Though a prickle of awareness crawls down my spine because that’s not what the evidence shows. Alec isn’t here, and he signed out. So is the voice in my head made-up or real?
Ezra’s brows furrow before he shifts his attention down the hall, eyeing Helga from a distance. As if he’s ensuring she didn’t overhear what I blurted out.
He rubs a hand over his jaw. “Did you get anything from the target’s room?”
I remain quiet as I hand him the written note, letting him take a moment to read it. “I think we can track him once we get there and find the exact meeting spot.”
He nods. “I agree. Let’s check out the son’s room one last time and then check the target’s room again. I’ll have Ren inspect it and see if he can pick up a scent through the stone.”
Stone Shapers have the ability to create weapons of stone by pulling them out of the environment, but they can also pull lingering magical signatures from it as well. So if there’s anything left behind, Ren will find it.
For the rest of the time at the inn, there’s nothing but silence as we search for more information about the male in room eleven. Ren inspects the room after Ezra did a thorough examination while we continue to chat with Helga.
She hasn’t stopped crying, but I give her my sympathies as she talks about her son between tears. We placed blame on Alec, as it made the most sense. Ezra and I excuse ourselves and step outside after saying our goodbyes, waiting for Ren near the horses.
Merchant chatter fills the air as I take one last look around the city, and I can’t help but think of the Fae market. A small part of me wishes to see it, but not when Alec is missing.
Ren steps out, his dark brows lowering as he meets us, looking as if he just found the most disturbing news. He glances over his shoulder one last time before turning back to us.
“What is it?” I ask.
“We’re tracking a Shadovar.”