Chapter Twenty-Four
Avelina
Parandor loomed over Avelina’s head, like the last ghost of her past. The crew meandered in clumps, having found their way into the city as innocuously as one could.
One thing, in Callum’s defense of his chaos, was people were flocking to the Stronghold.
The guards at the gate were overwhelmed with people fleeing the outlaws.
Bloodthirsty criminals scouring the continent!
Run away! They sought the safety of Parandor’s walls, not knowing it made the perfect cover.
Rat road into the city in a carriage with three others and a gaggle of dirty-cheeked children seeking safety from their tiny village on the edge of the Grasslands.
There was a large family of cloak wearers that Avelina slunk in with, shuffling and keeping her head down.
Once she was inside the walls, strong fingers wrapped around her bicep and yanked her out. Her heart jumped and she twisted to give Callum a piece of her mind. Grahm scowled back at her. Bastard. She slapped his hand away. “I thought I told—”
“Quiet,” Callum’s growl from the shadows made her swallow her tongue. He slunk out from the clump of houses he lurked within, “Everyone knows their job. Let’s not waste time yappin’.”
Grahm grunted, moving away from her like he was ready to march to his boss’s drum.
Avelina stood her ground, glaring at the outlaw before her.
He stared back, a singular eyebrow raised.
There was no smugness in his expression.
He wasn’t playing with her. It almost hurt worse than if he were his normal self.
Normal? She could laugh. Callum couldn’t be normal, his habits were all over the place.
The entire time she’d been trapped in his cabin, their only routine was going to bed.
And even that was chaotic at best.
“I said move, little viper.” His voice was sharp, opening the wound on her chest and leaving it to bleed once more.
She hated that he called her that. Her fists curled up at her sides. “Not till you explain—”
He zipped forward, snatching her by the jaw.
Her body cemented itself to the ground. Growing metaphorical roots, she straightened her back and stood firm.
Even while his claws dug into the soft skin on her cheeks.
Callum growled directly in her face, nose to nose, “I ain’t gotta tell ya nothin’. Now move them legs or I’ll remove ‘em.”
There was something distant in his expression. His voice didn’t hold its usual threat. Cottonmouth was the one who glared at her, but his heart wasn’t in it. The Callum of him was missing. His heart. She breathed in his scent and spoke, soft and calm, “Then do it.”
Avelina called his bluff.
“You don’t think I will?” A flicker of him returned.
Challenge, play, mischief, desire, it all swirled in those yellow orbs of his that glowed even in the dark.
She could follow his eyes like a northern star in the dead of night, because he felt like home.
It made her chest ache. Get out. Get out now!
“I know you won’t kill me,” she sighed with disappointment. He won’t kill me. He won’t choose me. He’s not my happily ever after, so he certainly isn’t my ending.
“Move. It.” He ground out the sound of the words between his teeth and threw her back out into the heavy crowds of people moving within the city.
She stumbled around, nearly elbowing someone in the ribs.
When she found her footing again, Callum was gone and she was alone.
The ache at the center of her chest returned. This is why I have to get out, now.
In their little corner of the city, the only people who saw him grab her was Grahm.
He’d stopped to watch from over her shoulder.
She could feel his beady eyes stabbing her with a million needles along her spine.
When she turned, she found the scaley asshole at a nearby corner.
Now, if there was someone who would kill her unprompted, it was Grahm.
She wouldn’t call his bluff, because Grahm would mean it.
“He means to gut you and leave you for dead, blessed one.”
“You think?” she muttered under her breath to the ghost of her patron lurking behind her.
Avelina wove through the throng of bodies to where Grahm waited.
As much as she would love to break for it there, within a stone’s throw of the gates, she knew better.
The crew would hunt her down. Best to disappear in the chaos of the heist. She could slip out through her own darkness.
The seeing stone smacked against her thigh with each step.
Catalysta’s presence was a cold brush of air on the nape of her neck.
Her goddess coming to enjoy the bloodbath that was to unfold.
An excited buzzing started under her fingernails that wasn’t hers.
She rubbed her hands together, trying to calm the feeling.
On the outside, she might look cold or anxious, but in fact, she was calculating.
Avelina counted the steps all the way through the maze of alleys. Her eyes scanned for paladins.
Think, Avie. She replayed the interaction with Callum.
He cut her off. Why? Why doesn’t he want me to ask about the plan?
Why did he disappear? Why isn’t he here with me?
The last time they headed to the vault, he’d been on her heels.
He breathed down her neck and ensured she knew there was no escape.
Suddenly, he was nowhere to be seen? Couldn’t even feel his eyes on her. Think.
“Catalysta…where’s Callum?” she whispered to the ghost hand that curled around her shoulders.
“Who you talkin’ to?” Grahm grunted, stopping mid-stomp to face her. She tensed, an arm’s length from him while the others wandered ahead.
“Myself,” she snarled. Catalysta’s grip loosened on her shoulder, and she wanted to slap Grahm silly. His eyes roamed her suspiciously before he jabbed at the space ahead of him.
“Go on, hurry up. Boys, hold up.” All the others slowed to a stop and her stomach sank into her feet. The pissed off outlaw jabbed a claw to the front of the crew. “Boss said your darkness is our cover. It’s getting dark enough, get to castin’.”
The clump of criminals split, and she walked down the aisle of them.
Her skin broke out in gooseflesh as all their eyes landed on her.
It’s fine. It’s fine! This! Is! Fine! This is what I wanted, remember?
Grinding her teeth against each other, she nearly cracked them as she led the pack.
They all shuffled after her. While quiet, she could still hear their breathing.
The buzzing started again. There was no hint of her patron anywhere, but the humming in her skin was intense.
She silently marched through Parandor, following her gut between buildings and down alleys, until she stopped at the edge of the courtyard again.
There, at the other end, were the massive iron doors.
Here lies the vault. The bane of her existence. An outlaw’s biggest score. Parandor’s vaults were infamous. They stored gold, jewels, artifacts, antiques, everything the Paladins acquired. Either by trade or quest or conquest, they stored all the riches there. It was supposed to be impenetrable.
But so was the Stronghold…and we all know how easy it is to get in here. She’d gotten in twice! It was almost offensive how easy it was.
Avelina walked the path along the bushes, keeping to the edges. It was the long way to the vault, but something in her told her a straight shot was a bad idea. In fact, this whole thing felt like a trap.
This whole thing feels like a trap.
Her stomach twisted up as she spotted Catalysta across the courtyard, swaying beyond the bushes, next to the vault doors.
Two Paladins stood in front, faces unreadable from the distance.
The sky was a dark navy, the stars unable to pierce a heavy set of clouds that floated overhead.
It took her too long to put all the pieces together.
What did he tell me? The first rule in being an outlaw…never let them frame you for your actual crimes?
“It’s a set up,” she breathed. Catalysta skittered closer, all broken angles and fluttering shroud.
Her patron stood a few feet from her, over the hunkering undead in the bushes.
Undead that didn’t just give up on hunting them through the Grasslands.
She saw their milky eyes finally after staring directly at them.
They filled the thick flora, their faces barely camouflaged, but it doesn’t take much when no one is looking.
Murderin’ Mary was somewhere in the courtyard, her underlings ready to spring forth for an attack…
likely after Cottonmouth’s crew cracked open the vault door.
Callum set her up.
She just didn’t understand why.
No. This can’t…he wouldn’t…why would he set me up like this?
It was one thing to betray the crew he didn’t even like, but it was a whole other to do this to her?
To set her up to take the fall or worse, get killed in the chaos?
What was his gain? What did he get out of it? Nothing made sense and her head swam.
“Get a move on, warlock,” Grahm hissed as he slunk up behind her.
He jabbed her in the ribs and she couldn’t help it.
The pain was sharp, sudden, it turned her blood into a frenzy.
Avelina spun and punched him in the chest. She hadn’t meant to blast him, but the magic was already alive around her.
It sent him sputtering into the bushes. Zombies surged out into the courtyard.