Chapter 20
Reva
The next couple of days seem to pass interminably slowly.
I’m a bundle of nerves and find myself drifting around the ship.
I alternate between getting shouted at by Cookie when I try to help with making dinner, throwing myself into sweeping seawater from the deck, and avoiding thinking about what might be happening to Kit right now.
I even kill a bit of time in the med bay, where it turns out the crotch rot I was told about the other day isn’t actually a joke.
It’s an epidemic.
I guess that there have to be some ill effects of the crew being stuck together for so long without any outlets other than targeting random ships to attack.
Thankfully, Aster surprises everyone by heading into the storage rooms at the lowest level of the ship and spends most of the day whipping up a remedy that we then dole out. It helps to kill a good portion of time, and also means Aster’s too distracted to constantly shoot concerned looks my way.
There was also this moment when a couple of the crew came back after slathering their nether regions with Aster’s remedy.
They were crowing about how good it felt and slapping Aster on the back, thanking him for saving their rotted cocks.
And Aster’s face lit up, he looked so damn shyly proud of himself my insides just about twisted themself into a damn heart shape.
Still, I’m distracted and in a weird mood for the whole time, wanting to gnaw my fingers down to nubs.
It doesn’t help that Aster’s magic still hasn’t replenished itself and my link with Kit seems to be growing fainter by the day.
I can still feel his heartbeat whenever I focus really hard, but it seems to be quieter—although no less strong.
After so many days of being battered around by events beyond my control, I’m clinging to the proof in my chest that Kit’s somewhere out there and the hope that we’ll find him soon.
Three days after our visit to the Dry Dock, the four of us leave the ship again. We leave the crew in high spirits and I have a feeling that once we get back, Aster might need to whip up another batch of the crotch rot remedy.
We port in this little nothing town in the middle of nowhere, where we discover we’ve grossly miscalculated how remote it is.
There are no train lines or transport links into the city, and unless Torin fancies rowing us another twenty miles, we don’t have many options of how to travel the final part of our journey.
After an hour of trudging around the little town, we manage to find a farmer who’s travelling to the city ready for the Monday market. With enough coins in his pocket to make it worth his while, he agrees to let us scrounge a lift with him.
It’s a slow ride from there. The roads are uneven, and the farmer’s horses need a long rest, thanks to the extra cargo.
Aster and I wind up sprawled in the wagon with all the sacks of grain and vegetables and the farmer’s dog while Torin sits up front.
Meanwhile, Jack flies overhead, stopping every so often to perch on the wagon to rest his wings.
I don’t know exactly what we’re heading into, or why Jack seems so reluctant to make this journey, and I don’t get a chance to ask considering he doesn’t shift forms all day.
By the time we reach the city, it’s late into the night, and my body aches from being jostled and bashed around.
I have no idea how the farmer’s vegetables usually survive, but I’m pretty sure they’re less bruised today, thanks to using my body as a cushion.
Torin helps me to climb down onto the pavement while Aster’s new four-legged best friend shoots him moon eyes, panting when he tickles her ears.
... can’t say I blame her.
The farmer trundles off and I can’t help but stand and gape around at the city.
Even in the dark, the city of Mistlemarch is like nothing I’ve seen before.
Purple streetlights line the streets, like open flames flickering a foot into the sky.
The buildings are an interesting mixture of sleek, shiny fronts that rise to imposing heights, and much older stonework that’s smoothed with exposure to the elements.
The streets are almost unnaturally clean and filled with people, despite the late hour. Everywhere I look, bodies are bustling about, dressed in clothes that would get you pickpocketed in an instant in any of the places I’m used to living.
Aster seems just as struck by the place as I am, his eyes wide with the lights glinting off his dark irises. Torin just looks pissed off, glaring around with his customary grumpiness before chivvying us along.
“We’ll find somewhere to shower and bed down for the night and then pay Jack’s folks a visit in the morning.”
Jack’s raven form is nowhere to be seen as we head toward a tall, silver building that glows with purple light. It’s the shiniest, sleekest thing I’ve ever seen, and apparently, it’s where we’re staying for the night.
“What is this place?”
“The Lupine Hotel,” Torin replies, surprising me by wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tucking me into his side. I grip Aster’s hand, interlinking our fingers together and keeping him close on my other side.
Outside the front entrance of the hotel are two men.
Both men are dressed in sharp suits that probably cost more than my monthly income.
Both are also over a head taller than me and about as broad as Torin and there’s something about them and the predatory way they size the three of us up that has my instincts on alert.
Pressed up against him like I am, I feel rather than hear the rumble vibrating through Torin’s chest.
“Are you... growling?” I mutter. “At the people guarding the door?”
Torin ignores me, instead giving both guards a respectful nod. One darts forward, his eyes snapping to Torin’s face and for half a second, I’m convinced they’re going to turn us away. Tor’s chest is still rumbling away, and I can feel his spine stiffening.
The last thing we need is a display of beast-borne dominance in the middle of the street. We particularly don’t need Torin showing off his metallic spines to the entire city.
“Calm your boots, buddy,” I mutter as the guard tugs the door open.
Maybe he’s not a guard then, but a doorman. I can’t say I’ve ever been into an establishment fancy enough to need either one.
Torin freezes in place, his body now stiff and on alert as he stares directly into the man’s eyes.
He looks like he’s about to pounce on the guard as a growl rolls through their chest. Panic fills me as I have no doubt about what is about to happen.
I can sense that both doormen are beast-borne and they’re two seconds from attacking, clearly picking up on Torin’s natural dominance.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I put my hand on Torin’s arse and squeeze. Hard.
He jolts like I just put a finger up his bum and narrows his eyes at me.
“Reva,” he spits. “What are you doing?”
My touch seems to break him out of whatever weird standoff he’s having with the doorman. They’ve both dropped eye contact, and the one is still holding the door open, their cheeks flushed.
“Thank you,” I sing-song as we pass.
“Sorry. Sorry, I panicked and didn’t know what to do.
It was either that or tweaking a nipple,” I quickly mutter as soon as we’re inside, pulling my hand away from Torin’s firm arse.
I then shoot an apologetic look at Aster.
But when I turn to look at him, he’s silently laughing his arse off.
There are tears in his eyes and everything and my lips twitch in response.
“His face.”
I snort, trying my best to stifle a chuckle as Torin glares down at me. Aster’s entirely lost his composure, silently shaking beside me with his hand covering his face.
“Behave you two,” Torin grumbles, although his lips are curled up at the edges like he’s fighting a smile. He doesn’t let go of me as he leads us further from the door until we’re standing to one side of the hotel foyer. “This is a fancy hotel.”
Understatement.
I do a sweep of the place, keeping my feet firmly in one position so it’s not too obvious I’m gazing around wonderstruck like an ignorant yokel.
Now that we’re inside, I’m hyperconscious that I must stink and am probably covered in mud from spending the full day on a wagon.
I’m also fairly sure there’s straw in my hair.
The staff will take one look at me and send us right back out the door again.
Why the hell they let us in, I have no idea.
It’s easily the fanciest building I’ve ever been inside.
White marble floors, with a gold domed ceiling and chandeliers pumping out tiny purple flames.
There are ornate wall coverings of intricate scenes that make my lips twitch.
And the air seems to be scented with something musky that makes my nose twitch.
“Would Captain Finch be jealous, do you think?” I nod to the huge tapestry covering the nearest wall.
Torin follows my gaze and lets out a low chuckle, the sound warming my insides. “He’d probably argue they’re not artistic enough.”
“Ah, is that the difference?” I grin up at him then let my face break into a grimace. “I am sorry... about touching you like that.”
He gives another chuckle, this one accompanied by a rueful headshake. “It’s all right. I’m not exactly used to casual touch like that. You were thinking on your feet and I appreciate it.”
“Well, I won’t do it again,” I promise.
Something flicks through his expression too quickly for me to interpret.
Torin opens his mouth, but before he can speak, my attention gets caught by a man striding through the gilded doorway. Something about the way he walks is familiar and it’s impossible to look away. He’s wearing an eye-catching purple suit, one that clashes with his red curls.
Familiar red curls.
“Isn’t that Jack? Where did he get that outfit?”