13. Raven #2
“Seriously, Raven. This place is no joke.” His voice and eyes softened. “I’m not trying to cut you out, but you clearly have some shit going on up here.” He tapped two fingers to my forehead. “You best get that handled so that it doesn’t end up being our downfall.”
Any argument I attempted to provide felt invalid. He was right. And I hated that fact. My head had become a hot mess, and I needed to get things straight. Needed to do so, like, yesterday.
He crossed his arms, appearing every bit a stone gargoyle denying my passage.
With a mild sigh, I left the room and headed down to the pub.
Aoes’s and Winter’s conversation drifted into the bottom of the stairwell. Although they didn’t appear to make any attempt to keep their discussion secret, their volume fell below a normal conversation level.
I stopped at the edge of the lower landing, out of sight, and strained to hear their discussion.
“Stop playing games with me,” Winter said.
“Games are not my style. You know that,” Aoes replied. Something dropped against wood with a thump. “Just because you haven’t seen strangers before doesn’t mean they don’t visit our fine citadel from time to time.”
“Don’t take me for a fool.”
“Never in my wildest dreams.” Humor danced in the tenor of Aoes’s delivery.
I inched forward and caught sight of them in a mirror across the pub. Winter leaned against the bar, behind which Aoes tinkered.
Winter wagged a finger at the pub manager. “Don’t think I’m unaware of your nefarious dealings. You may be my friend, but I won’t hesitate to put an end to your activities if I suspect they might bring harm to the city.”
“How could anything I do bring harm to this rotting hell of a home? Have you looked around lately?” Aoes threw his arms wide as if presenting Winter the whole of Veritas. He punched a soft fist into Winter’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re my soul family. I would never do anything to disgrace you.”
The gesture didn’t appear to soften Winter’s demeanor one bit. “All right, then. Who are they?”
“Traders. Nothing more.” Aoes’s gaze flashed to the mirror, making eye contact with me through the reflection.
“Reaper’s hell,” I mumbled.
He’d caught me listening. Time to rescue Aoes from the inquisition before Winter broke him down and made him confess whatever truths he fancied about my team.
I pushed away from the wall in the stairwell and, rubbing my palm, rounded the corner, making more noise than usual. I rubbed my forehead and attempted to look exhausted. An easy to achieve appearance because I was…on so many levels.
Aoes shifted his full attention to me then raised his chin to the ceiling indicating the location of Mr. Aldine’s room above us. “How is he?”
I weaved through the maze of tables and chairs and took a seat on a tall wooden stool at the bar, several feet from where Winter stood. “Still undetermined. I hope your healer can help.”
Sparing Winter a glance, I slammed my arm down on the bar and focused on Aoes. I pretended not to notice Winter moving a seat closer.
“What do you got back there?” I craned my neck to see behind the bar. “I’m in need of something that will loosen the stress knot in my chest.”
“One stress-reducing ale coming right up.” Aoes grabbed a clean stein from one of the many hanging on hooks above his head and filled it with amber liquid.
He set the large earthenware mug on the scratched and scarred bar in front of me.
I seized the stein and took a long, burning gulp. The liquid dropped into the hollow of my stomach with a swirl of discomfort. I drank until my body cried for breath, then I set the mug down and wiped my lips with the back of my hand.
Both males watched me as if waiting to see if I’d swoon or stand steady.
I could handle Veritas’s alcohol. The drink had nothing on the stash my father kept at home.
Although, I didn’t usually partake in such liquid refreshments—if one could call ale such—this especially trying evening ranked worthy of the extra assist.
I smiled, caught my breath, and took another swig. With the drink came an increase in false courage. Something I currently felt a strong need of.
Winter leaned into the bar and shifted to face me, an intrigued grin dressing his lips. His thoroughly inviting lips. Lips pressed too close for my sanity’s safety. His gaze drifted over my face then my body.
Heat flushed across my cheeks, and reminding myself I didn’t care much for the guy, I looked away.
Stupid ale.
A thunder of steps descended the stairs, and the healer appeared with Chace in tow.
The healer nodded to Aoes and me. “I’ve done all that I can. Let him rest, and I’ll check back tomorrow.”
She took her leave as Chace came to a pause in the center of the pub, every ounce of his exhaustion dragging at his muscles. I stared at him for half a second, at the perfect picture of a pained work of art, and in that half of a second, I found him heartbreakingly beautiful.
Then he shifted his attention to the bar. At the sight of Winter, his gaze transformed into a burning glare.
Winter straightened. “On that note, I, too, must be on my way.” He tilted his head toward me in a slight bow, then he lifted my hand and placed a gentle kiss upon my skin. A flirtatious grin split his lips, and his gaze lingered on my face a tad too long. “It’s been…captivating.”
I choked back a gasp and tried to hold an unreadable expression, but what did he mean by captivating? The word, when spoken by him, created tiny bubbles in my chest. I shoved the thought and feeling to the back of my mind. Whatever meaning he tried to convey shouldn’t matter to me.
And I blamed the ale as the only reason his comment and actions captivated me now.
He might be intriguing and handsome, but he was also an arrogant stranger, and I was on a job—an incredibly challenging reap that required my full focus.
Winter slowly allowed my hand to slip from his grasp before he swept his gaze to Aoes. “I’m not finished with you, my friend. We shall continue this conversation when I return. Until next time.”
He glided to the door with the grace of a pompous prince and disappeared into the night beyond the pub.
Chace stomped to the bar, stopped beside me, and thrust a thumb over his shoulder, indicating Winter. The arch of his eyebrow communicated his questions: Was he flirting with you, and do we need to worry about this fella?
I merely shook my head.
He turned to Aoes. “What’s the story on that bloke?”
Aoes croaked―the sound of a strangled laugh―then cut a finger through the air. “You know… Let me get you the keys to your rooms. You’ll be needing those.”
He dashed to the back room in a clear escape of any questions regarding Winter.
I allowed all the events from the day to unpack in my head. So, so many things.
Chace squeezed my arm, and I jumped. The warmth of our contact startled me, then it grounded me, pulling me back to the now, the pub, and Chace.
“I don’t have a good feeling about that Winter guy,” he said. “Is he going to be a problem?”