Page 52

I shift silently, adjusting the weight of the blades strapped across my back. Three weeks of chasing this particular shadow, and I'm running out of patience. The twins are growing every day I'm away. Trinity is...
Trinity is not mine to think about right now.
"You're getting sloppy, Captain," I murmur, examining the fresh claw marks gouged into ancient stone. Drez'kor always did have a temper. I trace one furrow with my fingertip, finding it still warm to the touch. "Very sloppy."
A sound—barely audible—pulls my attention toward the eastern passage. I melt deeper into shadow, my ash-gray skin a perfect camouflage against the darkness. The heavy thud of boots approaches, accompanied by ragged breathing. Not the captain. Someone injured.
I draw a blade silently, balancing its familiar weight in my palm.
A figure stumbles into the plaza—a lesser demon, clutching his side where black ichor seeps between his fingers. His eyes dart wildly, scanning the ruins before he collapses against a fallen column.
I'm on him before he can register movement, blade pressed to his throat.
"Where is he?" I keep my voice low, applying just enough pressure to break skin.
The demon's eyes widen with recognition. "Vaelrix? Fuck—I thought you were him coming back?—"
"Drez'kor. Where?"
His laugh turns into a pained cough. "Gone. Again. Bastard knew you were coming. Left me to bleed out as a distraction."
I press harder. "Not good enough. Talk."
"He's got...friends in high places now." Blood bubbles at the corner of his mouth. "Said to tell you...you're chasing ghosts. Whatever that means."
I growl, frustration bubbling through my veins like acid. The captain has evaded me for weeks, always one step ahead. No one slips my grasp this easily. No one.
"What's your connection?" I demand, searching his face for signs of deception.
"Just muscle. Hired help." His breathing shallows. "Said you'd be sniffing around because of some human...bitch."
My blade slices deeper before I can check the impulse. "Watch your tongue."
His eyes widen further. "Fuck—it's true then? The great Vaelrix, tamed by a human?" Another wet cough. "Captain said you'd gotten soft."
I lean closer, letting him see the fury in my eyes. "Does this feel soft to you?"
The demon swallows hard against my blade. "Look—he's crossed to Aerasak. I imagine he's on Ikoth. Has some business with a collector there. That's all I know. I swear it on the void."
I ease the pressure slightly. "A collector? What business?"
"Don't know details. Just heard him mention something about a trade. Something valuable." His eyes glaze slightly. "He won't stop talking about revenge, though. Says you took something that belongs to him."
The implication hits me like a physical blow, but I keep my expression neutral. "When does he meet the collector?"
"Three days. The obsidian falls." His head lolls slightly. "I need a healer, or I won't make it."
I stand, wiping my blade on my leathers. "You'll make it. And then you'll deliver a message. Tell your captain that if he values what remains of his miserable existence, he'll forget about the human woman. Tell him she belongs to me now."
The demon's eyes widen. "He won't like that."
I sheathe my blade with a sharp click. "I'm counting on it."
I leave him there, bleeding but alive—a messenger to carry my challenge. The eastern territories are at least a day's hard travel, which gives me time to return home and prepare. Something feels wrong about this whole pursuit, like I'm being led in circles.
Back at my carriage, I retrieve the tracking stones I've collected—each one vibrating with different intensities, supposedly leading to the captain's location. Three weeks, five different stones, and each pointing in contradictory directions. This isn't coincidence.
I slam my fist into the carriage wall, denting the reinforced metal.