Page 62 of Till Death

I swirled my hands through her brown hair, smoothing the tangles as the full moonlight finally broke through the clouds and filled her small room with its silvery light. I thought she was asleep until she drew in a heavy breath.

“One day, when I get to dance on the stage, will you come and watch me and Boo? He’s getting pretty good.”

I chuckled. “Of course, I will, kid.”

“You can bring me flowers,” she said quietly, the sleep heavy in her voice.

“I promise I will. But why do you stay with the Maestro? Truly?”

Her eyes fell shut on a giant yawn. “Because he is my friend. And he’s supposed to keep me safe. He promised.”

“But he didn’t?”

“It must have been an accident,” she said, so sleepy the words came out as one.

“Take it from me, Quill. It’s far better to learn to protect and rely on yourself in this world. You can’t trust anyone.”

Perhaps it was the fresh wound of standing in his bedroom, but I’d heard my father in those words, and I didn’t regret them at all.

“Okay,” she said several moments later, likely from within her dream.

I lay for hours in that bed, nodding off several times, but I grew so afraid she’d wake to my face and scream, realizing the bad guy was actually the one she’d invited into her room, I eventually rolled carefully to the side and stood. Boo poked his little white head up, peeking at me with one eye open and a small growl in his throat.

“Good boy,” I whispered, patting his head as he yawned and lay back down. “You are a big, ferocious beast.”

I turned to walk away when a hint of movement outside Quill’s window caught my eye. And though I couldn’t see his handsome face, I’d know that silhouette anywhere now. The question was, where was he headed so late at night? And how quickly could I catch up?

I stayed as far away as I could, stalking Orin as he snuck through Silbath, crossed the bridge to Perth, and stood under a streetlamp, the mist of the dreary weather bathing him. As he watched the road, adjusting the leather gloves on his hands and then the brim of the hat on his head, I waited, wondering why he’d dressed so fine.

He paced for a moment before slipping into the shadowed alleyway nearby. The moon had been a blessing thus far, but it made the darkness darker, and he knew that. I’d been born to hunt, though, and the rooftops had never let me down.

He watched over his shoulder enough, and I wondered if he felt me nearby. The beggars in the alleyways paid him no mind, and, aside from the occasional lady of the night he’d kept a wide berth from, no one else seemed to notice him. Eventually, he leaned against a wall near the Badger Hole, checking his watch several times. A rat got too close, and he stomped his foot to scare it away, drawing the attention of birds that hoped he had food.

The wretched cough of a man that sounded as if he’d been sick for most of his life, the kind that weak lungs attacked, could be heard in the far distance. Over the whimpers and pants of those half-naked and frantic a few blocks down, he began to whistle. His perfect pitch carried a tune as haunting as his cello and as dark as his heart.

The sharp jaw of his silhouette was unmistakable. For everything there was to absolutely loathe about the man, Orin was truly beautiful. He kept a clean shave, his hair always combed. He wore suits as if he were a man of stature, and even his gloves were never without their own shine.

And he was mine. Something in that thought caused the band around my wrist to pulse, and when he paused his tune to whip around, as if his marriage bond had also pulsed, I sucked in a sharp breath and ducked low. Just in case. When I peeked back up, I had just caught the coattails of his jacket as he entered the Badger Hole. Two seconds later, I would have missed him.

I leaped over the railing and climbed down the old apartment building I’d been squatting on and casually strolled across the cobblestone street to peer in the window. He’d settled into a booth in the far corner of the old room, his back to the door. Making sure my hood was up, I debated the mask before deciding to forgo it and just walk in.

No one seemed to notice me as I slipped into a high-top table closer to the door. When he ordered two drinks and slid his gloves off, I held my breath, searching the bare skin of his palms. I was sure there would be a name there. But his palms were blank. And I’d been so distracted that I’d nearly missed the woman who swept across the room minutes after the drinks had been delivered.

With chin-length hair and slanted eyes, donning the most beautiful feminine face I’d ever seen, I smothered my gasp with the back of my hand, wondering what the fuck Ro was doing with Orin.

Chapter 27

Ro had kept me at arm’s length my whole life, and I was only now realizing it. When the title had been stripped away and my world crashed down, she hadn’t come until I was on her turf, in the Scarlet District. And even then, she’d ushered me down a hallway and right…

Gods.

She’d delivered me to Orin, who’d been waiting in the alley the night he’d stabbed me. She might as well have had a leash because I’d blindly followed. My skin crawled. And then the fury ignited. Starting in my chest and fanning outward until my fingers shook, my heart raced, and I saw nothing but red. Whatever game I’d been tangled in, however ridiculous I’d looked before, knowing the truth made me that much more foolish.

But the thing that really got me, the single point that crept up my spine and gripped me in a chokehold, was the fact that Ro might’ve been working with the Maestro. All this time, all these years, had she been in bed with the biggest crime lord in the realm? Anyone worth their death knew to stay away from him. She couldn’t possibly be tangled up with the lackey and not the overseer. I’d learned firsthand she preferred the top of the ranks.

At first, I wondered if they could be lovers. I wouldn’t put it past Ro, but I didn’t know enough about Orin to make that assumption conclusively. They’d never leaned into each other during their lengthy conversation. They’d only shared a friendly smile here and there, as they seemed to discuss something much more serious.

My nerves rattled, as if my body were urging me to stand and walk over. To let them know I’d caught them red-handed. But as always, I kept it to myself, letting the truths fall into place around me until I could work it out on my own. I didn’t need any of them, and I’d seen enough. Still, I could feel the challenge boiling.