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“I’m not a prostitute if that’s what you’re thinking.” I scoffed, peering around at the men and women who undoubtedly were. They were moving around the room barely dressed, while I was dirty, sweaty, and looked like I had been out trekking for a month.

“Everyoneis for the right price.” He smiled at my disheveled appearance. “Do you have a price?”

I opened my mouth to protest, this human’s ego pissing me off.

“Don’t respond yet.” He spoke first. “Let me say, I am a man with very particular tastes and inclinations, which my dear wife would not approve of. When I find something which intrigues me...” He gave me a nod, indicating I was that thing. “I go after what I want. And I payhandsomelyfor it.” He dug in his pocket, pulling out a tiny clear bag of dust, barely enough to get one hit. My gaze dropped to it, blood pumping in my veins for a taste. “This evening, around seven, I will be upstairs in room 105, if you feel inclined. Bring a friend. I would love the company.” He slipped off the stool, pulling on a heavier jacket. “Think about it. I will pay half up front if you wish.” Without another word or glance, the man strolled out of the pub.

Sitting there, not sure if I was insulted or disgusted. Normally, I had no problem with being propositioned by either gender. Sex was sex. Especially if you were pretty and fit. Though I felt repelled instead of turned on or intrigued like I normally would have been. The idea felt wrong and made my skin crawl for some reason, Raven’s disapproving expression sticking in my head. Maybe it was because I was the one usually paying, not the other way around. Except he was offering the one thing we needed more than anything. Money. We had no other means of getting it. Nothing more of hers to pawn.

But I could sell my body.

Just for one night, Ash. You’ve done it a million times before. What is the big deal? You’ve fucked groups of people at a time, being so high you couldn’t recall one of them. Why is this any different?My fingers played with the small plastic baggie, the yearning to sniff it down dripped sweat down my back.You are both getting something out of it.

We needed money. We couldn’t get supplies, lodging, or even food soon if I didn’t do something.

Clutching the bag, I shoved it in my pocket, knowing I would need it later.

“Two tripe soups to go,” I ordered, placing down the last few coins we had.

For the first time since I was a child, I was doing something I didn’t want to do but knew I had to.

Raven could never know.

Chapter 16

Raven

Hours passed before Ash returned, dumping a bag of lukewarm tripe soup and a stale piece of bread on the table.

“All they had,” he grumbled, kicking off his boots. He climbed on the bed, facing away from me. He barely said a word, but I could feel his mood shading the already dim room, dividing us.

Sitting in the chair, I stared at his back, fighting the urge to cry. His response was what I feared, what I got from so many after they learned what I did, and none of them even knew the full truth. That had been covered up.

He couldn’t even look at me, and I didn’t blame him. I was a monster.

Gazing out the window, watching the snow fall, I wrapped up in a ball, missing my family fiercely.

Maybe Ash had been right from the beginning. Maybe I should’ve gone home, left him alone. All I did was drag him into my mess, and all he wanted was to be left alone to avenge his lovers.

A knot formed in my stomach at the idea of him and these two faceless people who still haunted this room. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly, but the way he talked about them, the fierceness he had for them, willing to forfeit his life for their memory…

Irrational as it was to me, who didn’t want that kind of love? No one had ever felt that for me. I was the girl men wanted to obtain, to brag they had been with, but they never cared to know me. Probably wouldn’t even like the real me. They liked the pretty package, the affiliation, not the one spilling tripe soup down her sweater.

“Ugh,” I groaned, standing and brushing off the liquid, the oil from the soup staining my top. I let out another exhale. At one time, a sweater with a stain would’ve been put in the trash, not even good enough to donate. Now my old ideals seemed arrogant and spoiled. Who I was even six months ago wouldn’t recognize me now.

Having Ash back calmed the craziness inside me, and after I finished my soup, overwhelmed by the day, I crawled onto the bed next to him. With the heat of his body and the sound of his steady intake of air, it wasn’t long before I succumbed to sleep as well.

When I woke up again, Ash was sitting on the chair, pulling on his boots, his expression pinched, his movements aggressive. Something stopped me from speaking, but I curiously watched his arms flex and his brow furrow while he spoke under his breath with sighs as if he was battling with himself about something.

Leaning on his legs, he scrubbed at his head with a heavy exhale. He sat like that for a beat before he plucked something out of his coat, a tiny clear bag filled with white powder. He stared at it for several minutes, rubbing at his forehead, before he ripped it open, snorting the dust.

Standing up as if the battle had a victor, his choice made, he glanced over at me, and I closed my lids, pretending to be asleep. I could feel him watching me, hear a heavy exhale before his boots hit the floor. The door opened and shut.

Scrambling out of bed, shoving my feet into my shoes and pulling on my jacket, I didn’t hesitate, not able to fight the urge to follow him, instincts telling me something was going on. I slipped out after him. Even blocked from my magic, I was excellent at shadowing someone without their knowledge. To be on them without them even knowing I was there.

The snow slapped against my skin when we stepped out into the darkness, the clock in the distance ringing with the hour of seven p.m. A handful of people moved through the neighborhood, heading home or out for something to eat. Bundled up, it was easy to go undetected, following Ash to a pub underneath a three-story building. Light glowed from inside, the chatter of voices slipping out every time the door opened.

Expecting him to go in, needing to get his next high, was a lackluster end to my undercover stalking. But instead he went for the door leading up into the building.