Page 51 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

~ JANN ~

My body thrilled when Diadre walked out of that modiste wearing the scandalously low cut outfit I’d chosen. But my heart was sick.

She was stunning. If I’d had her in that outfit in the privacy of our own space, I would have been ecstatic.

The gold embroidered bodice dove between her breasts, and cut off just below her ribs, leaving her midriff bare.

The trousers were loose to below the knee where they pulled in around her shapely calf.

But they draped from the very low waistband and when she walked the panels parted, baring her legs almost to the hip.

At every step it seemed she might be bare to my eyes—and the eye of any man who cared to look.

More of the light, flowing material used on the trousers was draped from the shoulders to drift behind her and flow around her arms when she was still. But in truth, she would be more covered by a sleep shirt.

I wanted her with a fire that threatened to consume my blood. But I couldn’t take her here because I had to appear immune to her charms. Only concerned with keeping her because she was mine, not because she was precious.

It grated—especially when I felt her inward flinch when she looked at herself in the mirror.

But to my relief, once I’d led her away from the modiste and through the streets towards the den where I knew my contacts would be able to help, both our minds turned to the task at hand, and my heart sang to have her alongside me.

Noctharrow was a city of wide, mostly quiet streets inhabited by people who were anything but what they presented themselves to be.

The darkness of this city ran in the sewers like blood.

An ignorant visitor could walk the streets safely, then die in their bed.

Or not. Depending whose attention they caught.

Diadre would be safe here in my shadow. And I would be safe—unless I said the wrong thing—because there were few alliances here, and even fewer loyalties.

Noctharrow Haven was a haven only for selfish ambition or the fugitive who wanted to hide.

For everyone else it was a trap, or a place to refuel on a journey and keep one’s head down.

We reached the building I wanted at high sun, both of us weary. But it seemed too big of a risk to take a room and sleep. I needed answers. I couldn’t afford to let news of our investigations run ahead of the information I needed.

So, grateful for the bond and the strength that passed between us as we walked, my hand on the back of her neck, but stroking her softly with my thumb under her hair, I casually led her down the narrow stairwell to the blank, nondescript door below the street level.

When I knocked, a small window was opened in the door and a pair of eyes appeared on the other side at the level of my chest, then scanned up—and widened immediately.

Moments later, the clunk of more than one lock rattled the door, then it was swung open towards us and a small head appeared.

“Sir!” They wouldn’t use my name here. “You were not expected!”

“It was an impromptu trip. I need a drink and some food. Let us in.”

The attendant squeaked, then opened the door wider, allowing us entry.

He murmured a formal greeting as I passed him.

Ignoring him and the guards in the alcoves behind him, because that’s what was expected of a Nephilim General.

Without a backward glance I continued down the dark, dank stone corridor that opened into a large cavern under the streets.

The space below was carved from natural stone, overly warm, and lit only by occasional lanterns scattered around the edges in alcoves.

The rocky cavern had been discovered when the building above it was built.

The owner repurposed it as a bunker for safety in a riot, but eventually turned it into this den—a fortified spot where entry was by permission only, and it was understood that anything that passed here, stayed here.

The city was lawless.

The Den was closely watched anarchy.

Still, I had little to fear. Most of the men and women who patronized this place had a much greater interest in information than combat, though to believe any of them was not capable of defense—or murder—would be a mistake.

Even the staff were mostly former mercenaries.

I looked around for Blanc, the owner, but it was still morning. He was probably asleep.

The long bar at the back was where most of the light was centered so the staff could see what they poured and plated.

Between it and the door where we entered was a massive, oblong lounge area.

Tables of various sizes and heights each surrounded by anything from cushions to tall stools, to suit the different patrons of this place.

The sturdy tables with thick, solid wood benches and chairs were at the eastern corner, and I made my way there without hesitation, urging Diadre with me, though to others it would appear she had little choice in the matter, what with my hand clamped at the back of her neck.

Unsurprisingly, male eyes rose and scanned her. But most took one look at me and turned away like the wise men they were.

But one human dressed all in black with his hood up even here, though it didn’t obscure his face, let his eyes linger too long.

I growled at him as we drew close. He shrugged and went back to his drink, but I kept an eye on him until we took our seats—backs to the wall so both of us could see anyone approaching.

The moment we slid into the seat, I leaned over and curled myself over Diadre. She clung to me, surprised by the sudden kiss, but once my lips were on her I found it hard to stop.

‘We’ll eat and drink. You watch. If we’re approached, let me handle it.

But when I’m focused on any visitors, keep your eyes peeled.

It’s unlikely I’ll be set upon here, but very likely I’ll be marked and followed.

Use your wits. Tell me if your instincts prickle.

About anyone. Even if you don’t know why. ’

‘I will.’

I rumbled approval and grabbed her ass for a moment, pulling her against me on the bench.

‘You don’t have to shrink from me here. But I do have to dominate.

I’ll do my best not to hurt you. If I grab the back of your hair with a warning, you shake your head and jerk around—I’ll hold on and it will look as if I’m shaking you. ’

I felt the revulsion in her, but she nodded and I kissed her again.

‘This is a pageant, Dee. Not my heart.

‘I know.’

Discreetly, on the side away from the room, I grasped her hand and placed it on my chest while devouring her throat, let her feel how my heart pounded and the bond throbbed.

Comfort washed through her.

‘I’m fine. We need to do this. We need to find Gall and Istral and… whatever else is happening here.’

‘Thank you. I… I’m grateful for you, Dee.’

She snorted into my mouth, but when I yanked away from her as if I’d taken what I wanted, the flush on her cheeks was gratifying.

Moments later one of the staff approached, a young man with jet-black hair and broad shoulders, the build of a soldier, but nervous eyes. He took my order—more food than even I could eat because we’d take the rest with us—and assured me he’d have the Innkeeper speak with me as soon as he arrived.

We needed a place to be seen to stay. I’d speak with my contacts about a spot for actual rest.

“I need to get a message to a friend,” I said loud enough to be overheard after he’d asked if there was anything else he could do.

He nodded quickly. “We have runners, and—”

“Not that kind of message,” I said bluntly.

Diadre looked at me, a question easing in my mind, but I kept my eyes on the server.

His throat bobbed. “You’re looking for Ged?”

I nodded slowly.

“He usually arrives by lunch.”

“Please let him know I’m here.”

The server swallowed again. “And who should I tell him is asking?”

I met his eyes for a beat before smiling. “You make your best guess and pass that on. Let’s see if you get it right.”

The man paled, but nodded and darted away like I’d threatened his life. Which, I suppose, in some measure I had.

If the wrong message was passed to the wrong person in this town, the one who made the mistake wouldn’t likely live long past it. But I had been recognized already. And even to strangers, my reputation preceded me. If he didn’t already know, he’d soon find out who was asking for the Wolf.

And if the Wolf knew what was good for him, he’d stop playing games and come running.

Once the food and drinks arrived, I dug in, watching the comings and goings through narrowed eyes.

Numbers were thin at this time of day, but increased with every hour.

Diadre played her part, picking at her food slowly, but surely.

Appearing to drink a great deal, when actually she mostly downed the water.

I pawed her when anyone let their eyes linger.

The man in the black hood sat side on to us, his eyes sliding in our direction more than once, but I pretended I didn’t notice.

Come on, come on. Don’t be coy.

But we sat there for a couple hours without incident, and without the man in the hood approaching, which made my teeth grind. I was sleepy, tired, had a full belly, and had to warn too many men with my eyes to keep theirs from my mate. My self-control was frayed.

Where the fuck were my brothers?

At one point, Diadre slumped against my shoulder and I wasn’t certain if she actually slept, or pretended to.

Sometime close to the lunch hour, as the traffic in the Den increased, there was a murmur and the massive form of another Neph eased into the dimly lit cavern.

Finally.

I sat back in my seat, but tightened my grip on Diadre’s thigh to warn her, because Vaysh was even bigger than me, though younger. I could take him in combat, but he was imposing to the eye.

When he strode up to the table, I chose that moment to take a drink.

“Jannus,” he said in that low, deep voice that defied his youth.