Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
When we pulled up to the curb of the pub where I’d booked the accommodation, my heart sank when I heard the noise of the crowd inside.
We were never going to get any sleep. Instead of fighting our way through the crowd in the bar, I found the entry for the hotel upstairs and walked through the unmarked door, heading towards a booth behind the staircase.
A little bell sat on the counter; I rang it.
A wizened, bald old man appeared.
I smiled. “Good eve?—”
“Hello there, lass. You must be the silver-tongued harlot who talked me into letting the drunk rooms go for the night.” He slapped three keys down on the counter and pointed.
“Upstairs. No smoking. No shagging in the communal lounge; it’s a shared space.
The bistro closes at nine, so it’s already closed, the pub closes at two, so feel free to grab a drink.
Live band on tonight, don’t complain about the noise because we ain't turning it down for you.” He pointed at Cecil, cuddled up in Nate’s arms. “And the baby–”
“We’ll keep him quiet, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I was going to say. Keep him ten feet away from the bar. And no matter how good Guinness is for growing bones, if I see you putting stout in his bottle, you’re out.”
Cecil burst into tears. “Wahh. Wahh. Waaanker.”
I picked up the keys. “Thank you.” Turning, I held them up.
One room for me and Bart, we would just about squeeze into a full-sized bed.
One room for Eryk, Nate and Cecil, and the last one for Cress and Donovan.
“I’m sorry, team, but there are literally only three rooms available in this whole city, thanks to the games, with only one full-sized bed in each. ”
Bart snatched a key out of my hand. “Dibs! I’ll share with Cecil.”
I shook my head, confused. “You want to share with Cecil?” Was there something I was missing? Maybe Bart desperately needed a cocktail.
“Well, I’m not sharing with Cress,” he hissed. With one hand, he reached out and grabbed Cecil by the arm, and hauled him away.
I frowned. “Why would you be sharing with?—”
“I do not need sleep,” Cress declared. Her rage hadn’t abated; she was so tight with tension she was practically bouncing off the walls.
“You must rest,” Donovan said, his voice cold.
“No, Donovan. You must rest. I am going to go and search for berserkers. I shall rest later.”
“You might not find any,” I said, a little bewildered. “It’s late. The games start very early tomorrow. Most of the competitors will already be asleep.”
“Then I will find my own amusement.” She stalked away without another word.
I watched her go. “Should she be going alone?”
“She will be fine,” Donovan said. “She would happily tear my throat out for saying so, but Cress needs time alone. She is feeling homesick. It is as the mortal saying goes—everyone is fighting their own battle.” He stared down into my eyes. “They are distracted. It is a good time to attack.”
“Ahhh, I don’t think that’s how the saying goes, Donovan.”
Nate plucked the other key out of my hand. “Eryk and I need to recharge our magic in case there's a fight tomorrow. If we have to face Connor and his assassins now?—”
“Assassins?” The blood drained from my face. “How many assassins are we talking about here?” The giant knight in the pitch-black armor still haunted my dreams. He’d come so close to killing Donovan during their fight.
“There are countless high fae who have aligned themselves with my brother,” Donovan said. “But only three of his closest advisors are powerful enough to travel with him to other realms.” His expression darkened, and a crinkle appeared in between his eyebrows.
“What is it? What are you not telling me?”
Eryk cleared his throat and bowed. “We will take our leave, Your Highness.”
I watched them go. Slowly, I turned around to face Donovan. He stood too close, too big, too masculine. “If Cress doesn’t need to sleep…”
“I do not require slumber to function,” he said softly. He reached down and took my hand again. “Come, Chosen. If I know you at all, I realize you are about to pull out a chalkboard and interrogate me so you can take notes on Connor’s assassins. I will tell you everything you need to know now.”
“Where are we going?”
“This is a tavern, is it not?” He glanced back at me. “You might need a drink.”