Page 11 of Monster of the Dagger Mountains (Killers of the Towers)

Chapter 11

Kira

HEADING OUT

S omething very close to me is moving. I freeze, holding my breath and opening my eyes as sleep evaporates. I’m facing the window. I see the ragged edges of moonlit clouds scuttling across the ebony sky.

The mattress shifts under me, jostling my memories. Right. The man who came in from the storm, Reznyk. The one who claimed he’s only had one lover, depending, of course, on how you define lover.

I roll my eyes as his feet tap the floor. He’s moving quietly. I make my breathing steady, in and out, so he’ll think I’m asleep. There’s a scrape against the floor; he’s probably pulling his boots out from under the bed. Then the rustle of cloth as he stands up. My muscles pull tight.

Is he going to rob me? I’m not the most likely mark in this hunting lodge, but then again, he is inside my room. I listen to his boots tap across the floor and wait for the rustle of him going through my bag. I tucked a dagger under the mattress, of course, but it’s going to be tricky reaching it. And, if I’m being honest, I’m not very good with weapons. In my three years of training, I’ve mostly tried not to stand out. So, if this man tries to rob me, my best bet is to scream.

I might prefer to die of embarrassment.

There’s a creak, and a thin rectangle of light falls across the dark window pane. I see the watery reflection of Reznyk’s shirt, then the blur of his face as he looks back over his shoulder.

And then the door closes, leaving me alone in the darkness.

I exhale slowly. He didn’t try to rob me. What a gentleman.

As I drift back into the world of sleep, it occurs to me that I have very low standards when it comes to sexual partners.

Three sharp knocks against the door wake me yet again. I force my eyes open, meeting the sun’s weak light filtering through thick gray clouds.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Zayne’s voice says from the other side of my door. “You both awake in there?”

I growl something at the closed door.

“Lovely,” Zayne replies. “Throw a blanket over whatever you don’t want me to see because I’m coming in.”

The door rattles, then opens. I sit up in bed. My head immediately reminds me that I had the better part of two bottles of wine last night. I wince, then run my fingers through my hair. Zayne pulls the door shut behind him. I don’t even have it in me to ask how in the nine hells he has a copy of my room key. This bastard probably stole a master key as soon as we checked in.

“Ah,” Zayne says. He looks disturbingly chipper for how early it must be. “Mister tall, dark, and handsome left last night, I take it?”

“No, I shoved him under the bed,” I growl.

Zayne grins at me. “I love it when they leave afterward,” he says. “Nothing worse than those awkward early morning conversations. There’s just no good way to ask someone what their name is after you’ve fucked them, you know?”

“Are you here for a reason?” I ask. “Or is this your twisted idea of fun?”

“We’re heading out,” he says.

“What?” I glance at the window again. It looks like the sun hasn’t even come up yet. “Now?”

Zayne nods. “Yes. Now. Best we leave before the hunting party wakes up and starts to count their shills.”

I rub my fingers against my throbbing temples. “Really?”

“Hey, we won those rounds fair and square,” Zayne replies, holding his hands up in front of his chest. “We just don’t want things to get awkward.”

“Right,” I reply. I’d roll my eyes, but that would probably just make my headache worse. “What about the tracker?”

As far as I know, the tracker the Towers hired for us is still missing. Zayne just grins at me.

“What about him?” he replies. “I got more information out of five minutes of cards with those idiots than we did in five days of his tracking. But if you want to wait for him…”

Zayne waves his hand in the air and lets his voice trail off.

“Fine,” I say. “I’m getting up.”

“Excellent,” Zayne says, leaning a little closer. “After all the fireworks last night, I think Tholious is in a bit of a rush to leave.”

“Fireworks?”

“Tholious and Matius had a falling out,” Zayne says, with a perfectly innocent smile. “Matius stormed out of the lodge. I think he spent the night in the stables.”

“Really?” I reply, fascinated despite myself. “Over what?”

Zayne shrugs. “Something about whether or not Tholious is going to value their relationship and how they could start over somewhere new. I didn’t ask about the details, sweetheart. But both of them look like death warmed over this morning.”

Zayne winks, then eases out of my room and pulls the door closed behind him. I groan. Training with the Towers’s Guards for the past few years taught me that most of them are absolutely incurable gossips. And what’s worse, it made me realize I’m an incurable gossip too. So I drag myself out of bed and pack up my few things, lured by the promise of a bit of drama.

But neither Matius nor Tholious says a damn thing as we set off up a dirt smear that’s hardly even a suggestion of a road. The wind is cold, the sky looks like it’s holding back tears, and the mud sticks to my boots like manacles around my ankles. Matius and Tholious look like they’re trying to outdo each other by setting the hardest pace. Eventually, they pull ahead as Barrance and Girwin fall back, leaving me panting up the mountain with only Zayne for company.

“This pace is fucking ridiculous,” I pant when we stop to drink from the creek that’s frothing at its banks. “Just how much money did you steal from those people?”

“I didn’t steal a single shill,” Zayne replies, wiping his sleeve across his mouth. “I did, however, win quite a bit.”

“So that’s why we’re running into the mountains,” I reply.

“No,” Zayne replies. “We’re running into the mountains because the lover boys are having a spat, and they’re subjecting the rest of us to the misery of their relationship.”

I smile, despite the fact that every part of my body hurts.

“Hey, at least you got laid last night,” Zayne says. “He was a pretty fine specimen too. Did you find out what he was doing at the Golden Peaks?”

That’s the kind of thing Zayne would have discovered immediately. I feel like an idiot as his name surfaces in my mind yet again. Why is the name Reznyk so familiar? For some reason, it makes me think of the Towers, although I can’t place anyone there with that name.

“No,” I reply. “He said he’s from a place called Blackwater.”

My cheeks burn as I remember his lips tracing a path down the map of my body. Zayne laughs.

“Yeah,” he sneers. “Of course he is.”

“What? That’s not a real place?”

Zayne shakes his head, then starts back up the road that’s more of a muddy streambed. Wind shakes the trees above us, sending pebbles of cold water down on my back.

“Blackwater was a real place,” Zayne says. “It was south of the Port of Good Fortune, a real bastard’s den. The whole place burned to the ground about twenty years ago. Now it’s a bit of a legend.”

“Oh.” I frown, trying to think of a place that would be considered more of a bastard’s den than the Port.

“We see it all the time,” Zayne continues. “Little shits who want to join the Guild come in claiming they’re from Blackwater. It’s what idiots say when they’re looking to impress someone.”

“Great,” I mutter.

And just like that, I feel even worse about my life decisions.