1. Riggs #3
Conwell’s eyes rounded. “Now you’re robbing me? I’m not telling you anything—” Killian raised the sword back to his throat. “I was meeting someone around five this evening, outside of Dagon’s Draught. If they ask, tell them to ‘Go, Fox,” Conwell said quietly.
Go, Fox?
Riggs slid the satchel over his shoulder, trying his hardest not to make a face of disgust toward Conwell.
“I don’t know where the hell that is.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
“But thanks anyway,” Riggs lied. He knew where it was.
He turned to Killian. “We shan’t keep Brodie waiting, brother,” Riggs mocked in a northern accent he knew would piss off Killian.
“Let’s collect our reward. I need new boots. ”
Killian shook his head, unimpressed. “Stop talking like that. I told you, it’s not all that funny.”
Riggs cracked a sideways smile. Amused. Even after all this time, he still got beneath Killian’s skin.
“It seems like you two have some stuff to work out.” Conwell said, “I told you what you wanted, now let me go.”
Killian chuckled, low and malicious. “Nah, we’re still taking you in.” He jerked his chin toward Riggs. “Let’s grab the horses, drop him at Brodie’s, and head to Dagon. We have a party to attend.”
By the time they arrived in Dagon, the sun dipped into the horizon, casting shades of pink and purple throughout the milky sky. The cobblestone streets were filled with people dressed in their finest, but there was one problem: They only had one invitation. Will the woman be expecting both of us?
“What’s the plan?” Riggs asked, glancing around, as they waited outside of Dagon’s Draught, which looked better than the last time he saw it.
They had made improvements. Minor, but still, they cleaned up the streets.
A vagrant walked by, and Riggs' face scrunched.
The hunched man was in need of a bath and a mint—badly.
Well, they somewhat cleaned up.
Last time, there had been hundreds of beggars strolling around, pleading for coins. And now there was only half that.
Killian scratched his beard. “One of us goes in to gather information. While one of us waits outside the castle gates,” he stated, voice rough.
Riggs almost scoffed but settled for a longing sigh, knowing he would have to be the one to wait. He was always the one to wait.
Down the street, past the tavern, was a brick alley where a curvy woman, cloaked in shadows, emerged holding a white box.
That has to be the arrangement.
“Check it out.” Riggs jerked his chin toward the woman standing by the clock post on the corner. “Do you think she’s expecting Conwell?”
Killian gave his horse a kick. “There’s only one way to find out.”
The woman clung to the box, glancing around restlessly with eyes deeper than the ocean.
“Looking for someone?” Killian asked, his tone friendly.
Recognition dawned on her face, then she glanced around, body trembling with something like impatience, like she was running out of time.
Strange.
“No, I’m waiting for my husband.” Her eyes darted between Riggs and Killian, holding the box closer to her chest, her cheeks blushing.
Riggs didn’t take Conwell to be the type to have a wife—no way he was married to a beauty like her.
Godsdamn. Riggs cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders.
He didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes or the way she shifted on her feet, and slightly dipped her chin. Riggs moistened his lips. She wants me.
Killian faked a laugh. “What does your husband look like? We may have seen him.”
The woman stared into Killian’s eyes, her gaze softening. “Who are you?” Her voice was a sensual whisper.
“What if I told you your husband sent me?” Killian leaned toward her on his horse. “Go, Fox.”
She stood on the tips of her toes. “Here.” The woman swallowed hard, her hands a slight tremor over the box as she placed it on Killian’s lap. “Be quick. You’re running out of time. You should have been here hours ago.” Without another word, she took off running.
Chills snaked down Riggs' spine. What’s happening tonight?
What was Conwell up to?
Riggs scratched his head. “That was odd, right?” Killian didn’t bother responding as a carriage flying by almost hit them.
“Hey, watch where you are going!” Killian shouted, shaking his head. The hooves of the flying horses muffled the sound of his voice. “People need to slow down.”
“Horses look spooked by something,” Riggs mentioned, watching the carriage nearly tip.
“Yeah, besides the point.” Killian opened the box, and a muscle in his jaw twitched as he scanned its contents: a black-and-white suit and a black mask.
Riggs scanned Killian’s massive build, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I don’t think that suit is going to fit you.”
Killian’s eyes flicked to Riggs. “No.” He huffed. “That’s why you are going inside,” he said, voice hoarse. “Do you think you can handle this?”
“Of course, brother.”
“Don’t screw this up, Riggs.” Killian’s jaw clenched. “You need to gather as much information as possible. Get in and get out. No funny business.”
Riggs nodded in agreement. “I won’t let you down.” This was his chance to prove to Killian he could go solo.
He wouldn’t fuck this up.