Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
When I got back to the small bar, I knocked on the back door until the fish guy, Rafe, opened up with a scowl.
“Were you followed? I’m not going to cover your tracks a second time.”
“Of course not.”
“At least you got rid of the dress.” He looked down at my black gear that I’d purchased at a werewolf thrift store. Everything had bits of fur on it, but it was black, warm, and not a ballgown.
I didn’t answer him, just headed for the stairs.
“He’s not there.”
I froze, every bit of my body tensed for action, listening, sensing for an attack.
I was about to launch myself at him and rip him apart, but I heard Gavriel’s voice coming from the front bar area and walked stiffly in to see Gavriel sitting on a stool, looking quizzically at a drink in front of him.
“What are you doing out of bed?” I demanded, marching towards him, gripping the box too tight.
He looked at me and smiled. He was still slightly too pale, but so beautiful. “Did you get the blood?”
I scowled at him, but he tugged me close, so I bumped into his chest, or the box, anyway. “I did. Also a healing elixir. What are you doing out of bed?”
“That’s right, Gavvy,” a drawling voice began from my right. “How dare you leave your mistress’s bed?”
I turned and saw the angel from earlier, looking even more disreputable than before.
If he was really the cupid, would he be trying to start something with my angel?
He’d called him Gavvy in a mocking, annoying way.
That meant he knew him. Then this was our angel.
Perfect. We just had to capture him and torture the information we needed out of him.
He was lingering near the door, which meant that he could get to the door before we could get to him. We had to lure him closer.
Gavriel sighed heavily. “Lorien. I thought you would have gotten yourself killed by now.” He tightened his grasp on my waist, pulling me closer against him so I could feel his heart beating against my back, smell his delicious angel scent mixed with the fresh blood of his wounds.
Healing, but there were still some raw places.
“Whatever,” I said, reaching for the box and opening it.
I’d drunk a blood bag while I dressed, and seen the healing elixir The Scholar had slipped me.
“Drink this. Insult old friends later.” I uncapped it and held it to his lips while he studied me with soft eyes that were slightly alarmed.
The cupid was going to slip away. We had to lure him.
Let him put down his guard, which meant making our love the focus, not capturing our prey.
Gavriel parted his lips and let me pour the elixir down his throat.
He coughed and hacked a bit while I studied him anxiously.
I must have poured it too fast. I pressed my face to his chest and shoulder, smelling to check the healing.
I couldn’t tell if it was getting better or worse. I should take off his bandages and see.
He laughed, still coughing, and took my hands, clasping them in his while he stared into my eyes with a soft smile. “I’m fine.”
I scowled at him. “Lies. I can smell your wounds still seeping. Fresh blood does not mean that you are fine.”
“Does it tempt you too much?” the cupid asked, coming closer, but not close enough. Not in range. He was careful. Good for him. Bad for us.
I turned around to scowl at the angel. “My bloodlust is none of your concern, unless you’re offering. You can visit with my angel after he’s healed. Right now, find something better to do.”
He raised his golden brows and studied me. “You’re at our mercy.”
“I made a deal with Shane. Believe me. You are all at my mercy. Only this wounded angel is keeping me from murdering all of you in your beds.”
The angel flashed white teeth before he laughed, then focused on Gavriel. “Look at you. Gavriel the noble. Never proud, never corruptible, except... you seem to have a new weakness. She’s lovely if you like bloodthirsty and vicious.”
Gavriel wrapped his arms around me protectively. “She is honorable. She never kills by choice.”
I hissed and glared at him. What was he doing, letting people know my weakness?
Gavriel smiled at me and smoothed my hair. “I was worried about you, so I came down. I think you’re right. I do need to lie down before I fall down. Shall we go back to the room?”
“Do you need me to carry you?” I asked, eyeing his injuries with concern. He’d seen that the other angel, Lorien, wasn’t going to get in range. We’d have to surprise him, lure him, somehow.
Lorien snorted. “You make it sound like such a hardship.”
I glared at him. “It isn’t. Everything about him, from his skin to his scent, is perfection to me. I would happily carry him for a hundred years.”
Gavriel put his arm over my shoulder and started towards the back, and the stairs tucked between the bar and the back room. He did smell so good, feel so good, his warmth, his skin and blood. I wanted to lick him. Just a taste, but instead, I carried the insulated box instead.
When we were upstairs, Gavriel flopped on the bed, pulling me with him so he could whisper into my ear. “You’re playing your part even better than I am. Well done, Ruby. Well done.”
The next moment, he was asleep, but I was still wrapped in his arms. The healing elixir must have knocked him out so it could work better.
I should push him away, get some distance, but instead, I opened my mouth and tasted the air over his skin.
I didn’t quite lick him, but it was close enough that I should have been ashamed.
Since I was a notorious murderer, I had no shame, just a craving for more.
How long could I justify staying like this, watching him sleep?
I closed my eyes. Now I wasn’t watching, and if I relaxed…
I slipped out of his arms and went to the door. The frame was large enough that I should be able to balance on it in case someone came in. To the right was where someone looked first. To the left, the door would be in the way, but above the door, no one ever expected someone to be waiting.
I kicked off my shoes and climbed up quickly, silently, and stayed perched there, listening to the rumbling on the other side of the door.
Shane was telling the fish man to check some place in town for barrels.
He didn’t specify what was in the barrels.
The angel, Lucien, my target that I needed to make feel comfortable, was complaining about Gavriel and I bringing too much attention from angels and the Scholar, who was not to be trusted.
I mean, my ballgown wasn’t exactly subtle.
And I must have murdered a werewolf for their clothing.
Did we need a war with the pack? No. He talked a lot, unable to let the topic of Gavriel and his lover rest. Yes, he called us lovers. And other less complimentary terms.
Shane finally snarled, “She’s doing a job.
You have a problem with that, keep it to yourself.
If she has an angel lover or a demon, or both, I don’t care.
Neither should you. Your old friend has the right to find happiness where he wants it, and I have to admit that female is exactly the kind of thing I’d like to sink my teeth into. ”
Lorien snorted, and the door slammed as he went somewhere else.
It was quiet for a long time after that, and I spent a few hours perched on the door frame, listening to Gavriel breathe, the silences between his breaths, watching his chest rise and fall in perfect evenness.
Finally, he shifted and then put a hand on his shoulder, grimaced, and then sat up.
He looked around and then stared at me when he saw me on my awkward perch.
“Are you comfortable?”
I nodded, caught staring at him, but unable to look away. “Are you?”
“I feel much better.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He’d grimaced. How was that better?
He smiled slowly. “I promise. I feel better. Let’s go take care of this duty we owe our host and then we can be on our way.”
Right. We definitely needed to wrap this up before Tralcon the second rose in power to the point that he was impossible to kill.
“Yes. We’ll ask for the details of the target and take care of it.” I dropped down and then pulled on my second-hand werewolf boots. They didn’t fit perfectly, but they were good enough.
We went downstairs and into the back room. The front was empty, locked up, and the back was just Shane and the fish guy, Rafe, with his flicking chin tentacles.
“What do you have for the target?” I asked, holding out my hand.
Shane studied that hand and then looked up at me. “I have a name.”
“What else?”
His eyes hardened. “It’s a goblin. Works in goblin market. Always surrounded by goblins.”
“I’ve been to the market several times. And his name?”
“Romi. Sells weapons and potions.”
“Romi, the goblin who sells weapons and potions. Got it. How do you want him to die? Publicly or privately? Accidentally or obviously?”
He studied me, brows furrowing more and more. “Goblins aren’t easy to kill.”
“No, but we had a deal. You protected us, so now we’ll take care of your problem.”
He looked troubled. “I’d like Romi to die quietly. Of natural causes. And in the market, surrounded by people who can witness the death.”
“Do you need me to get something from him for you?”
He studied me. “No. Afterwards, we’ll retrieve what we need.”
“It’s better if such things are planned in tandem. Otherwise, someone else might get to it first. A weapon?”
“A person.”
It was my turn to raise my brows. “A person?”
“Goblins keep slaves. I need him back on our team for a job.”
“Oh. You can’t just steal him back? Slavery is illegal.” Not that legality had made me free.
“No. He owes Romi a life debt. Things happened, a job went bad, and he took the fall. Now we’ve got to get him back.”