Wanted: Rogues and Bards (E.V.I.L. #1)

Prologue

Lirion sprinted around the corner of the building, panting hard, and paused there to catch his breath. His calves and thighs were starting to burn from all of the running, and he knew he wasn’t safe yet, but he needed a few seconds. Just to catch his breath.

The watch called out to each other, coordinating where to search next. Lirion silently cursed them as sweat trickled down his temple. It wasn’t their fault, though; he had killed the man.

He’d been justified, too.

Lirion bit off another curse under his breath, not sure where to go now.

Two weeks! Two weeks spent trying to find his sister.

The two of them were meant to rendezvous in Hundager, but she’d never made it.

There wasn’t even a message for him, and after three days of waiting, he knew it could mean only one thing—she was in serious trouble.

For two damn weeks, Lirion had followed up on any lead—every possibility—as he checked every town from Hundager back down to Warón, her last known location.

It was only when he’d popped into a brothel in Warón that he’d run into a smarmy asshole who’d bragged about a pink-haired young woman looking just like him who’d come through recently.

When Lirion had realized who the young patron meant, he’d attacked the man, knife at his throat, not giving a damn about anyone on the other side of the curtained-off door.

That was when the bastard had admitted he was the one who’d lured Aria onto the ship.

The rage that had come over Lirion was incandescent. How fucking dare he prey on others!

Lirion had slit his throat without compunction. The world was a better place without scum like him walking around.

Of course, the kill hadn’t been silent or clean, and he’d been found out rather quickly.

Workers and patrons alike had screamed and rushed out of the brothel.

Hot blood covered Lirion’s arms and chest, making it so he couldn’t blend in with a crowd without using a shit ton of magic. There was only one option. Run!

Pushing himself off the gritty brick, he speed walked farther down the street.

As he moved, he pulled up the hood of his cloak, keeping his head down.

He tugged the cloak around his chest as best he could.

It was late at night, and so long as he didn’t act like he was the one being pursued, he might be able to lose the watchmen.

They surely had a description of him by now, and his pink hair was uncommon enough to catch their attention. Hopefully covering it would be enough.

Still, he hastily worked on getting out of sight.

Lirion had an inn room two blocks down but had left nothing there.

He’d grabbed his pack and all his instruments before leaving it last, just in case he had to run tonight.

So far, even inquiring into this ugly business had almost gotten him killed three times.

The only thing he could do was safeguard himself and keep trying.

He wasn’t abandoning his sister. He refused, utterly.

Another watchman’s deep voice called out, “I’ll check over here!”

Fuck, he sounded close. Too close. Lirion doubled back the way he’d come, then darted into an alley and jogged down it.

Never mind the inn room; not only would it be too hard to reach, but there was no guarantee he could hide there come morning.

The watchmen would not rest until they’d combed the entire city.

Groaning, Lirion made a snap decision. Leave. Just leave. He had no reason to stay here longer anyway. All the little tidbits of information he’d gathered—useless or not—were pointing him north, to the country of Moorwood.

How would he even get to the next viable lead? His head throbbed, thinking about the logistics. Regardless, he must find a way to her.

Assuming his sister even still lived.

Lirion shut down that whisper of doubt. No.

No, he wasn’t going to entertain that insidious idea at all.

Until proven otherwise, he must assume Aria was alive.

He had to cling to the hope she was all right.

His heart already ached at the idea of what she must be surviving.

He couldn’t face losing his sister—he just couldn’t.

Another voice, a different one in a higher tenor, shouted from somewhere behind Lirion. “This area’s clear!”

Lirion grimly put on more speed, exiting the alleyway completely and only pausing long enough to get his bearings.

The main road out of town was two streets over, but they were surely watching it, anticipating that he’d run for it.

He’d need to use a different street. One over, perhaps, and take it until it hit the tannery, then turn back toward the highway. Longer, yes, but hopefully a bit safer.

Maybe he shouldn’t have killed that asshole.

No. No, the man had absolutely deserved to die because of what he’d done to Aria. Lirion wholeheartedly believed in revenge, and revenge was best served hot.

Still, killing the scum did put him in something of a pickle.

Why couldn’t people be more on board with justified murder? Truly inconvenient, these morals of society. Sometimes people needed their throats slit. That should be common knowledge, dammit.

This street was nearly dead silent. Well after midnight now, most people had gone home and were in bed.

Lirion dearly wished he could do the same.

He’d been searching the city for clues like a madman since dawn and felt the fatigue pulling at his very bones.

Needs must, though. Staying up most of the night wouldn’t kill him.

He’d just need to find a safe place to rest come morning.

Maybe a short stint on a boat, if he could find one.

The sounds of the watchmen calling out to each other gradually faded into the background. Lirion grimly kept his pace up, nowhere near safe yet. He had to get out of town within the next hour, before the watchmen could really comb the streets. An hour might even be too long.

Oh? He could smell the tanneries; he wasn’t too far away from the edge of town, then. That god-awful stench couldn’t be confused with anything else. Nose wrinkling, he kept heading for it. Then, when it seemed safe enough, he turned back toward the highway.

Leaving town meant he’d need to slough along the highway for a while until he reached another inn, as the next town was a good five- or six-hour walk from here.

Lirion set to it, pacing himself, drinking some water from his flask as he moved.

He could feel the first pangs of hunger gnawing at his belly and he groaned.

The last thing he needed to worry about right now was eating.

Finding a proper meal was a hassle when on the road.

Dammit, would anything go right tonight?