Page 17 of Loreblood

I was growing tired. So far, Dimmon, Jeffrith, and the Diplomats had left me alone to get acclimated to my surroundings. It was a relief I knew wouldn’t last.

Baylen scoffed with derision. I knew then I was not going to change his mind. We would keep arguing in circles about this the longer we spoke about it.

“Maybe you should give the Diplomats a chance to prove you wrong before you write the whole lot of us off as brigands and bastards, Seph.”

I turned my head away from the fire to see Bay studying me angrily. “Fine.” The word surprised him, like he didn’t expect me to give in. “What is it you people do, anyways?”

His incensed look flipped into a slow-building smile. “You’ll see bright and early tomorrow, Sister.” He patted my knee before standing from the fire and stretching his arms over his head. “We make our own lives.”

He reached a hand down to help me up.

I blinked at the hand, feeling that if I took it, I would be submitting to whatever the Diplomats had to offer me—good or bad. I hesitated. There was grime behind his dirty nails, marks on his hand.

“Are you ready to take control of your life, Seph?”

I blinked and took his hand, finally, and stood.

With a curt nod, I let him lead me away to a busted tent pushed up against a pile of rubbish, which he said I could use to sleep in and be unbothered. It was a small relief, at least, having a place to lay my head where I didn’t have to battle the elements.

I would let Baylen think I was conceding and he had me convinced . . . even though I was quite certain my young friend had simply replaced one set of shackles from the House with a new set of chains from the Diplomats.

I awoke to the sounds of yelling outside. It jolted me out of the best sleep I’d had in weeks, ever since escaping the House of the Broken. I rubbed grime from my eyes before pushing my tent-flap open to poke my head out and see what was going on.

Dimmon Plank paced in front of Jeffrith, who was wide-eyed with fear in front of the Diplomat leader.

I felt a perverse twinge of satisfaction seeing Jeffrith squirm, and a greater sense of confusion at what was transpiring. Jeffrith’s hands nervously fidgeted in front of his belly while Dimmon chastised him.

“What do you meanmissing, Jeffro?!” he shouted at the young man, throwing his beefy arms into the air.

A gaggle of Diplomats had emerged from their tents in the early morning chill. Behind Jeffrith stood five members from his Third Crew—what I assumed was the name of his subset gang in the wider Diplomat hierarchy.

“I-I says it like it is, Dimmon, sir,” Jeffrith stammered. “Layson ain’t coming back.”

Dimmon paused, showing Jeffrith his back. I gasped when his gaze landed on me off the side of the road, with a glint of devilry in his eyes. It took everything to keep from wilting and hiding inside my tent.

The foul-smelling leader abruptly rounded on Jeffrith and punched him in the side of the face.

Jeffrith toppled over with a groan, kicking up muck and dust as he landed in a heap. His crewmates gasped, taking a step back at the swift violence.

Dimmon kicked Jeffrith in the side. If I hadn’t known what kind of man Jeffrith was, I might have felt bad for him.

“Ain’t your job to tellmewho is and ain’t coming back,boy!” Dimmon shouted. Spittle flew from his beard. For good measure, he spat on Jeffrith’s writhing body.

The leader spun on the next mate in line—a girl who looked close to my age yet much smaller. She didn’t even come up to his chest in height.

“You!” he snarled. “Tell me what happened.”

The girl’s gaunt face blanched. She nodded incessantly, lips moving without words.

“Speak, dammit,” Dimmon cursed.

The girl did just that, in a rush. “L-Layson was standing next to me, sir, in an alley next to Fevron’s clothes cart, yeah? W-We was just, uh, we was just getting ready to pull one on ol’ Fevron, yeah? I turns to give Lay the signal, and a sh-sh-shadow just . . .”

“Just. What?” Dimmon said slowly.

“Appeared out of nowhere and snatched him up! It was all black in that alley, yeah, sir? Then I looks up and see Lay’s feet kicking!”

“You lookedup? Explain yourself, Jinneth.”