CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
Vesper fished a few slate from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s palm. “Fetch a mask for each of us.”
The innkeeper balked at the order. “I don’t—”
As Vesper dropped five more into his hand, the man’s eyes widened.
“And one more thing,” Vesper said, leaning in. “Do you know someone named Kyrith? I’m looking for her.”
“No, sir,” the innkeeper said, his spine ramrod straight.
“You’re sure?” At the man’s nod, Vesper sighed and rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. He added a few slate to the man’s pile. “Ask around for me.”
The innkeeper folded into a bow before he scurried away like a rat.
“Was that necessary?” Nef asked. “We could have gotten them ourselves.”
“I don’t know about you, but I have no desire to go out there again without one.
You saw that poor bloke coughing his brains out.
No, thank you, I’ll pass.” He watched the innkeeper’s uneven steps as he doubled over and choked, then disappeared around the corner.
“Besides, it looks like he needs it more than I do.” Vesper rolled the key between his fingers. “Ready?”
After he unlocked the door, he let Nef step inside first. The room wasn’t glamorous by any means with the small bed, clearly for one, covered in a multicoloured patchwork quilt that certainly could use a good wash, and dusty wood floors.
The space was only slightly better than the tiny room he and Emmery had shared. But it wasn’t the worst he’d seen.
With a grunt Vesper let the saddlebags hit the floor. He then shut the door and leaned against it, feeling as if the walls were closing in, caging them with all their secrets and admissions. The back of Nef’s knees hit the bed and she flopped onto her back.
His mind raced as he contemplated how to handle this. How he would handle her. The dynamic had shifted between them, but before, they had always been sort of friends. Or he thought they were. Just now he wasn’t a … customer. Hands behind his back, his fingers drummed on the splintered wood.
As Nef sat up from the bed, her golden hair fell in a waterfall down her back. She patted the spot beside her. “Come sit?”
“I’d rather stand,” Vesper replied. The image of blood beneath her fingernails flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t think of anything else, even as Nef stripped off her cloak and tunic and tossed them atop a short chest of drawers.
He caught the briefest glimpse of her tiny undershirt and tore his gaze away to give her some scrap of privacy.
Unbothered, she bounced on the bed. “It’s actually quite comfortable.”
Vesper cleared his throat and willed his mind to stay on track. To not wander to the things they could do on that bed together. “Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice strained.
Nefeli flicked her hair in his peripheral and stood to search the saddle bags. “Don’t concern yourself with it. Relax.”
He focussed on a knot in the floorboards. “Not until you tell me.”
Nef speared a hand through her hair and shook it out as she sighed again.
He vowed he wouldn’t look. Wouldn’t let his eyes wander.
Gods, he was already such a piece of shit, it was the least he could do.
But when she retrieved a clean tunic from her bag, Vesper gave in and finally looked at her. And his breath snagged.
Purple bruises banded her neck and wrists, the unmistakable impression of fingers in flesh. Rage burned hot and razor-edged in his blood as his eyes narrowed on those marks. Nef shrank away like she was the one who should be ashamed of the bruises, not the bastard who hurt her.
“Was it—” Vesper choked but couldn’t get the name out.
She hid the marks beneath the protective waves of her hair. “Ottai tried, but … wasn’t so lucky.”
Vesper couldn’t get his legs to move, but he managed to shuck off his gloves and cloak. He tossed them onto a nearby rickety chair, then just stared at her. At the bruises. The blood under her nails.
Gods, it could have been so much worse.
Nef could have died.
It wouldn’t be the first time a Master had taken the life of his Scarlet.
When they no longer performed as they should, the Masters were known to make them disappear to make room for a fresh source.
Often a young Hollow. Nef was only a child when she was first brought to the Scarlet Palace, barely thirteen years of age when she took her first client to bed.
It was absolutely vile and despicable and—
He shook the thought loose.
Vesper crossed the distance and gingerly took her slender hand in his. A few of her nails were broken and the red stains had faded to brown.
Nef looked up at him with only ferocity in her hazel eyes, and held her head high. “I fought for freedom,” she said steadily. “Now, I’m claiming mine.”
Vesper’s thoughts tangled like an animal snared in a well placed net.
“Nef,” he drew out her name as he ran his thumb over her fingertips.
“You know that’s not how it works. Believe me, if there was a way, I would have done it already.
” Her ownership would transfer to the next of kin, and if the family line died out, the Scarlet Palace would go on auction to the highest bidder.
Often to the scummiest of Masters to add to their monopoly.
Her low voice brimmed with years of rage and everything she didn’t say. “I’m free for now. If it’s all I have, I’ll take it.”
“They will look for you. Likely use compulsion,” he warned, in fear for her. If they forced her body to make the trek back, they would undoubtedly punish her. And it wouldn’t be a light sentence. If they didn’t kill her, she’d be doomed to a lifetime of repentance.
She lifted her chin higher. “Let them. I’m not going back.”
He studied her stubborn expression. He wished it wasn’t true. Wished he could create a different reality in which this wasn’t her life, but he said, “This is who you are. You can’t run forever. The bond won’t let you.”
Nef placed his hand over her heart. While Vesper’s pulse raced, full of terror and concern for her future, hers thumped steadily against his palm, ready to fight for whatever came next.
“Watch me,” she dared, still holding that hand to her chest.
She was so stupidly brave and reckless and it would get her killed one day. He was sure of it.
Vesper cupped her face in his hands. Her blonde lashes briefly swept over her cheeks as her eyes fell closed. Some colour had returned to her pale face. “How are you feeling? You look a bit better.”
She nodded and her gaze fell to his lips.
He knew he shouldn’t touch her. Shouldn’t even be this close after what she went through. But after seeing all that shit outside, all that dismal hopelessness, he wanted someone to comfort him, too. Even as he backed toward the door, Nef followed and stole that choice.
She stretched up on her toes, leaned into his body, and kissed him.