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Chapter thirteen

ATALIIA

I sat on the roof of an abandoned brewhouse in the slums, watching as patrons stumbled in and out of the taverns and brothels lining Folkvein Street, the main road that led to the House of High.

Sethros was split into three distinct boundaries.

The highest point, closest to the House of High, was the richest, where most of the nobles or those that worked inside the House of High lived.

It was bathed in gems, with brass and gold roofs set along marble and limestone structures that were perfectly symmetrical with intricate lattice detailing.

The streets in this section were heavily guarded and always clean.

The center of the city came next and was covered in darkness from the House of High’s spires placed perfectly to shadow the lower half of the city, as if to hide it.

Merchants sold their goods on these streets, the open market a mess of hagglers and villagers looking to sell anything they could to replenish their coppers after nights spent in the brothels and taverns.

Most nobles did not come here unless they were looking to acquire specific services that the witches in the highest point refused to provide.

The shops in the center were more or less built with the same architecture, just watered down with the scraps used to build the wealthy areas.

The slums sat at the lowest point and they were, personally, my favorite part of the city.

Guards hardly ventured there unless forced and nobles looked down their nose at it.

Though it was wracked with poverty and abandoned crumbling buildings, the people here were kinder than any other section of Sethros.

They took care of their own. It may also have something to do with the fact that the black market resided here, which brought troves of secrets and information.

The three of us had arrived at the safe house early this morning and Pri had only stayed long enough to drop her bag before tethering off to meet with Nox.

I followed quickly after, not because I had somewhere specific to be, but because there was not a chance in hell I would stay in that house alone with Dukovich.

The only assignments Wren had sent me on since I started working as an Intelligence Officer had been in Ammord. He would never say it, but I knew it was because he didn’t trust me not to do something stupid in Redelvtum or The Silliands.

I wasn’t sure I trusted myself, either.

At least here, if I just so happened to stumble into a bar fight, they would see me as another witch wrapped up in the carnal energy that flowed through this realm.

That was something I had grown to love about my time spent in Sethros.

The lust and desire that saturated everything it touched made it so easy to rile anyone when I needed to hit something.

The men here were so weak.

“Ow,” I hissed, snapping from my thoughts as I pulled my hand toward my chest and tried to shoo away this Gods damned familiar.

I inspected my finger and the bead of crimson that began pooling where its beak had cut through skin.

“You are really beginning to get on my nerves,” I mumbled as I whipped the blood from my hand. “I liked you better as a cat.”

It hopped toward me, snapping its crows’ beak at me again and squawked. I leaned back into the shadows at the sound, not wanting to be seen if it drew any attention to us.

“What? What do you want?” I snapped in a low whisper. I watched as it hopped to the edge of the roof and jabbed its beak toward the ground.

Rolling my eyes, I let out an annoyed sigh as I moved toward the ledge.

I can’t believe I was letting this thing tell me what to do.

My fingers slid up the seam of my hood, pulling the leather over my head as I leaned over the roof’s edge.

The streets had begun to part down the middle—drunkards, mongers and their harlots, scurried from view, hiding behind the doors and windows that were flying shut as four Hanth guards led a man up the cobblestone road on horseback toward the House of High.

Pebbles loosened under my boots, rolling from the roof as I pushed myself against the chimney and I crouched lower into the shadows, shifting my position to get a better view.

I couldn’t tell if they were protecting him, or if he was their prisoner.

I slipped behind the chimney and bolted the remaining distance of the rooftop and jumped. Bounding from rooftop to rooftop, my feet almost silent against the clay shingles, I raced to get ahead of them—to get a better look.

My fingers locked around a worn, copper spire as I slid to a stop atop the brothel that sat in the curve of the road. When they rounded the corner, I would have a full view of all their faces. I watched as they came toward me, spotting the rope tied to the man’s ankles and wrists.

A prisoner.

I could see red dripping from somewhere underneath his cloak, blood staining the hem of the fabric. As they reached the bend in the road, my heart stopped dead in my chest.

It was Nox.

My heart began to sprint in my chest.

Pri was with him.

Pri was going to meet with him this morning. The gears in my head began frantically turning. I had to get him free. I had to find Pri.

Keeping myself in the shadows, I jumped from the roof, landing on the sandy ground as my body shifted into that lethal vixen.

“Get him free of the restraints,” I hissed toward the familiar and watched as the crow melted into a rat and scurried away from me. “I’ll handle the men,” I whispered, standing to my full height.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I stepped into the road.

“Evening, gentleman,” I drawled, bowing to give them ample view of the cleavage gushing from the thin dress that now clung to my body.

It brushed against the ground as I lowered my body toward the ground, the slits up both sides separating to put every inch of my legs on full display.

“Get out of the road, witch,” the leader of the squad spat as his three guards eyed me with a predatory gaze. I lifted from my bow at his words, letting my silver hair catch in the moon’s light and walked toward them.

My hips swayed with each step I took as I let magic flow from me—let it ensnare itself around their emotions. I stepped up to their leader and placed a hand on his horse’s mane, running my fingers through it as I looked up to meet his eyes.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you men?” I asked, my voice dripping with sweet venom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rat begin to gnaw on the rope.

“Your magic will not work on me, wench ,” he snarled as the heel of his boot connected with my chest and sent me flying backward.

I let out a mock gasp, dramatically falling to the ground and scurried backwards as my magic gripped around the minds of his guards.

My gaze fell to the ground as the last thread of the rope snapped between the rodent’s teeth and chuckled.

I thought I would have to distract them longer, but it seems this familiar, like myself, did not waste time.

Nox finally lifted his head at the sound, peeking from under his hood just enough for our eyes to connect.

He had seen this body before.

And as the knowledge clicked in his mind, his eyes widened.

My hands dusted off my dress as I stood and the guards looked back at me in confusion. That kick would have hurt most, would have sent most wenches running back to their brothels in fear.

But I was not most, and I was definitely no wench.

“Well, this has been fun,” I crooned, tucking my hands behind my back and wrapping my fingers around my blades, readying to draw them. “The prisoner”—I gestured my head toward Nox—“is mine.”

“I will give you one last chance, witch . Move or be moved,” the leader snarled down at me and I grinned.

“The prisoner, or your men?” I countered, watching as his head slowly turned to look at his guards, his eyes widening in horror as each of them held their own blades to their throat.

Their eyes locked on him, frantic and pleading. His gaze snapped back to me, fury seeping into every line of his scarred face.

“You are beginning to bore me,” I snapped, taking a step toward him and tightening my grip on my blades.

“The High Priest will have your head—”

“Very well,” I cut in as the slicing of flesh and gurgling sounded from behind him.

He whirled around to see his men grasping at their throats, gasping for the air that would not find them as they each tumbled from their horses. Their bodies hit the ground with a loud thud and, for a second, my mind went numb.

My vision went black and all I could see was him .

The way his body rested in my arms, the cut across his throat that drained the life and blood from his body.

My stomach twisted, knotting around itself as my chest tightened.

“I will kill you for this.” The threat echoed into the darkness that covered my vision and I snatched a blade from its holster as my sight came crashing back.

My dagger flew from my hand on instinct as he lunged for me.

Then, there was silence.

His arms were still outstretched as he fell to the ground, the blade buried deep between his brows.

“Where’s Pri?” I hissed, whirling to face Nox as he struggled to lower himself from the horse and clutched his abdomen.

“I do not know, we were raided. Someone knew where we would be meeting.”

I threw his arm around my shoulder and he cried out in pain at the movement. My hand slammed across his mouth, muffling his shrieks as I dragged him off the open road.

There was no way someone hadn’t seen what just happened.

They would find these bodies soon enough and we could not be anywhere near Folkvein Street when they did.

“Find Dukovich,” I said frantically toward the familiar as I slumped Nox down behind the back of the brothel and shifted back into my skin.

It took off into the night, and somewhere in the distance I heard its cawing floating on the wind.