Alvena found herself scrambling into the room despite herself.
“Now, make yourself at home,” he spoke, sealing them inside. “You will have the divan by the fire as your bed.”
Alvena stood, sliding her back against the wall as she did so. She was acutely aware of their distance. She would put up a vicious fight if he dared lay a hand upon her!
When he remained so perfectly innocent, she surveyed the room about him. It was as large and brightly lit as her old room, with an ornate chandelier dangling from the high ceiling. The walls were a deep blue and hung with large tapestries depicting romances from the histories she had read as a child: Princess Aura and Prince Mesheck, King Ralaris and Queen Secora, Heroes Dephaera and Mavorn. Even a great rug in the center of the room held a scene of two lovers intertwined.
Alvena raised her brow as the male set his sword down on the paper-strewn desk. She had never really thought that a cold-blooded killer would be so interested in such deep and emotional history.
She scoffed, wondering who he had killed to acquire the room.
Adonis stepped away, drawing back the curtain of the window and tying it to a hook along the wall. Alvena could see the city sweeping out in brilliance and her heart ached to move closer. It was so magnificent that for a moment, she could find no fear or hate of the place. Elvorium…
She forced herself to look away. No, this was her prison.
She scanned the divan beside the burning fireplace; it was furnished neatly with silk pillows and was separated from the hearth by a thick-furred rug. But its luxury did not negate her state.
And then there was Adonis’ bed—bold green and gold sheets accented with threads of deep red silk. She shrank away, sidestepping to the opposite wall. If she did not go near it then maybe he would change his mind…
The door beside her opened suddenly and Alvena leapt back with an internal shriek. ‘Him?!’ she raged as Vale flung the door against the wall.
He rolled his shoulders, tossing his long blond hair from side to side. “Ahhh! Prisoners secured!” his voice rang as he slammed the door behind him. He was unaware of Alvena’s tiny frame scrunched against the wall beside it. “Gods, a few long days on the road and I have never wanted you more,” he purred, dropping his sword to the ground and stalking toward Adonis.
Alvena’s eyes widened. Did they… both… live in this room?
Adonis put a hand on Vale’s chest as he drew near, keeping him an arm’s length away as he gestured with his free hand toward Vale’s left.
The male turned and Alvena saw his eyes harden, narrowing into thin, angry slits. “What is she doing here?” he growled.
Adonis swung from the demand, stepping past him and plucking up the discarded weapon. He elevated it once, gesturing at Vale in unspoken chastisement. Then he set it on the desk beside his own. “Somewhere beneath Ilsevel’s talons, Saebellus still exists. He ordered me to keep her near while he addresses the matter.”
Alvena saw Vale’s jaw slack, his bright green eyes widening in displeasure. “What?! Adonis!” he whined, throwing his arms into the air dramatically. “This must be some cruel prank! Why in Ramul do we have to keep her? Let the bitch-queen have her way! She always gets her way eventually! Ugh!”
Adonis glared at him reproachfully, but Vale dodged the look by swiftly turning his own scowl upon Alvena. He huffed, “Throw her to the bitch-queen and be done with it. I want to ravage you.”
“Vale,” Adonis warned, his gentle voice rising even as his cheeks flushed. There was intensity in his form as he drew himself up. “If you do anything. Anything at all to displease me about Alvena, I will never forgive you. Never.”
Vale flung his belt beside his sword, falling into a high-backed chair. He rubbed his hand against the breastplate of his armor, as though attempting to scratch an itch beneath. “How are we supposed to live with that little rat in our room?” he muttered hotly. “Why doesn’t Laeth take her? That damn elf has no one in his room. Make him take responsibility for her.”
“No,” Adonis replied flatly. He opened the chest at the foot of the bed, drawing out a thick, black cloak from the top. “You know she’s innocent and we will demonstrate our support of Saebellus’ stance by taking on the duty. That is final.” Alvena watched his shoulders lax as he threw the heavy fabric about them. He tugged his long hair free. “Now, I have some business I must see to. Watch Alvena. I’ll care for her when I return.”
‘He’s going to trail Sellemar…’
Vale’s foot stomped and he smacked a hand down onto the surface of the desk, sputtering. “First you deny me and then you go to spend the night with Sellemar?! You’ve gone too far! I have work too, you bastard! Take the brat with you!”
Adonis collected his extravagant sword and studied it briefly. Alvena followed his gaze. Its hilt glittered strangely in the light and when she peered closer, she felt as though she were staring across a frozen tundra somehow contained within the narrow, twisting ice. And that every gem was, in fact, a pocket of rare stone embedded into the face of great, grey mountains. She blinked dumbly and looked up to the two elves, expecting their expressions to be struck with similar awe.
Adonis, however, was still managing Vale’s complaints. “Here is a thought to keep you occupied,” he reproached softly. “Saebel mentioned Hadoream again. He said that the rumors are increasing. If Hadoream is indeed here, you ought to consider what you are going to do.” He stepped to the door and smiled slightly at Alvena—perhaps as avoidance to Vale’s irritated grimaces and glares.
The despicable captain looked like a troll prodded with a hot iron.
And then the door swung wide and Alvena was left confused. What Vale was going to do? Why Vale?
Vale merely gave a thin-lipped scowl, refusing to address the meaning of Adonis’ words. “Saebellus told me to take care of the beast, and the mercenaries I’m hiring are in town tonight. You need to be back in a few hours. That’s when I have to leave, Adonis… Adonis, don’t you walk out on me…! Hey!—Did you hear me?! I’m not taking her with!”
*
“Damn it,” Vale muttered.
Alvena had not moved from her choice spot along the wall. She had to pee again, but since she had already been forced to relieve herself in her dress while strung together in the prisoner line, she was less willing to try to communicate this with the murderer. He had not even unclothed from his bloodstained armor!
She observed him as he paced before the balcony doors, glancing occasionally at the climbing moon. He had said he wouldn’t bring her along… but Adonis had sounded rather sure of himself.
“Damn it, damn it. That damn bastard. When I get my hands on him it won’t be where he wants,” Vale snarled to himself as he abandoned his post at the doors. He snatched his sword from the desk and fastened it hastily to his waist.
His eyes landed upon Alvena and he stiffened with irritation. “I can’t wait any longer. Let’s go, bitch.”
‘Bastard,’ she thought in turn as he stalked to the door. He flung it open and Alvena had to dive out of the way to avoid being crunched against the wall. ‘Just leave me here, you callous murderer! Tie me up!’ she wanted to balk aloud.
Vale jabbed at the hall, glaring as she scrambled to her feet. “Follow me,” he snapped. He paused mid-stride to glower sourly. “And if you try to run, I’ll slit your throat.”
Alvena drew her cloak tight, a sinking fear settling in her gut even as she flared her nostrils at his threat. She took a long stride after him. He would kill her. Of that, she had no doubt.
Vale pivoted and marched swiftly away.
‘…He’s nothing like Adonis,’ she reflected as they wound their way down the long hallways, twisting stairs, and vast halls of the palace. ‘He is cold. Evil, truly.’ She narrowed her eyes at the back of his head, willing him to croak. ‘Why did Adonis leave me with this monster? I would have rather stalked Sellemar!’ She stopped in her thoughts. Adonis though… he wasn’t any better! How had he let all tho
se Noc’olari die? She could not cling to him! She had to be strong in herself…! She set her jaw as she stepped out onto the grounds of the palace. And maybe this would be her opportunity to stash Sellemar’s letter!
Vale’s hollow eyes caught the light of the lanterns strung high above the palace gates. No. She could not take chances with this male. One attempt… one failed attempt to run… and her body would be lying in a pool of its own blood.
As courageous as Sellemar had been to protect her, she felt ashamed that she could not do the same. ‘There must be something you can do if you are to be a captive—something you can at least learn for the sake of your allies…’
She drew away from her thoughts, finding the guilt too great to acknowledge. Instead, she focused on the brisk weave through the golden city. To her surprise, it was busier now than it had been at the peak hours of the day. Perhaps now that the army had withdrawn to the barracks and palace, the city’s elves felt daring enough to emerge.
“This is the place,” Vale yapped as they stepped past a crooked white gate hanging off its last hinge. “Don’t say a—” His face twitched. “Just stay by me.”
He pushed open the large, dirty door of a rundown estate and Alvena’s nose wrinkled. The walls were cracked and worn and the interior was even more scandalous. Alvena had never seen this side of the city and for a moment she doubted that they could still be within her precious capital. There were tables scattered across the building’s dirty floors, liquor spilt across their surfaces. The elf behind the counter was thin, boney, and solemn, with watery eyes that glided across her and Vale as though he did not truly see.
Why was such a place allowed to remain? It was a human tavern in a Sel’varian city! She looked about, aghast.
And slightly fascinated.
Vale snagged her elbow, yanking her through the crowd of jovial and heavily armed humans as they shouted and gurgled through their ale. She could only assume that these ruffians were the humans who had served in Saebellus’ army, thus pardoned from Ilsevel’s rampage.
Vale flung her away at the top of the stairs and turned his barbarism upon a drunken lout who lingered before a door. He lobbed the man away to access the room painted with a small number six.
Who was within?
She retreated, watching as he rapped thrice with the hilt of his blade. Then he warily joined her away as the door opened to a single, dark crack.
Something wavered in the darkness—a rusty, probing eye.
The door snapped closed.
“Damn mercenaries,” Vale grumbled, rapping firmly once more. Only silence was returned. “Can’t work with them!”
Alvena sidled up to Vale’s hip. What was that about?! Now she was determined to see inside!
At her challenging glare, the door swung inward and Alvena found the cautious male beside her promptly forgotten. She gaped. A shirtless man stood in the opening, his chest glistening in the soft candlelight, his two rusty eyes narrowed. He was human, with skin tanned from the sun and darkest upon his broad shoulders and bulging arms. His chest was heavily scarred, but Alvena thought that it, paired with his rather well-toned muscle structure, only helped to emphasize his dangerous physique.
She couldn’t help but giggle internally, even as she attempted a well-founded rebuke. She had never seen a handsome human before. The sheer structure of him made Vale look as though he could be crushed beneath his thumb.
And she liked the thought of that.
“You must be Captain Vale,” the man finally spoke after a shameless scrutiny of their figures. He gestured into the room behind him and as he turned, Alvena’s eyes were drawn to the long scar that ran down his face and split over his cheek. The candlelight from the room behind caught it briefly with shimmering emphasis.
Alvena had been around many soldiers in her time at the palace with Hairem, but no elf she had encountered had borne such scarring. A real mercenary! Alvena saw Vale tear his eyes away from the man’s chest and realized that he was as taken by the man’s physique as she. She grimaced to share even one similarity with the vile killer.
While she was delighted with the human’s appearance, entering the room came no easier. The sound of the snapping door sent her leaping like a frightened cat and she nearly plowed headfirst into a mound of dirty clothes.
Fortunately, no one commented on her embarrassment.
“Hello, Captain Vale,” a woman breathed from the edge of the bed.
In the process of regaining her composure, Alvena had not noticed the additional figure lounging in the dim light. This one she identified immediately as a half-elf. The woman had ears that drew sharply to a point, but her features were too strong to have come solely from elven heritage. Additionally, she had a tattoo of a black sun on her neck, the spiraling and jagged rays creeping toward her jawline.
No self-respecting elf would ever mar her body—even with Zephereus’ insignia.
‘It looks positively ridiculous…’ Alvena thought with great indignation, personally affronted by such a mark. Then her haughty regard dwindled at the appearance of a horrid scar she had been at first too distracted to note. It sliced clean across her throat.
If only Hairem had survived his.
“You are Tsuki and Hazamareth, I presume,” Vale inquired. He surveyed the woman on the tossed bedsheets with blatant disinterest, despite her nearly exposed breasts.
“I am Tsuki,” the human clarified, folding his arms across his thick chest. “You said you had a job for us.” Time was clearly money to this man and he certainly did not seem pressed for work enough to be courteous. He did not bother to even offer a seat—grimy though it was. Alvena’s eyes flicked across the divan by the fire and the chair by the wall, each tossed carelessly with dirty leather, rumpled clothing, and shaggy towels—the latter of which she had nearly been lost within. There was even a beautiful necklace with a teardrop charm just lying in their pool of filth!
“Yes, of course I have work for you,” Vale retorted, as though the man’s words were an accusation.
A glint once more captured Alvena’s eye. She crouched and subtly swiped the discarded charm for closer admiration. An amethyst glinted from within the teardrop. ‘Why would anyone throw such a lovely thing away?—this certainly would give that audacious tattooed neck a stark improvement!’
No sooner was it in her hands than Vale snapped his fingers at her. She swiftly and obediently straightened, clutching the charm at her side lest he see and throttle her with a physical rebuke.
“And it is of high priority to Saebellus.”
The woman—Hazamareth—leaned forward on the bed, her eyes piercing Alvena with discomforting calculation as she snapped back to attention. Alvena’s hand tightened. “And is this it?” she demanded.
Vale scoffed, catching Alvena’s shoulder as she tried to shrink into the shadows for safety. “Gods, I wish. Unfortunately, however, no.” Here he paused, his cheeks growing curiously red. “We need you to kill the Beast.”
The Beast. Alvena needed no mirror to know that, contrarily, the color had fled her cheeks. Every servant had heard the tales of the massive casualties it had left in its wake. Thousands, they said. Why, the Beast had even dared to defile the temple of Sel’ari herself!
There came an inappropriate volley of laughter from the grinning mercenaries. “Ah, the Beast,” Tsuki chortled. “This wouldn’t happen to be the same little creature you took twenty years ago in exchange for Rel, is it? That ‘insignificant, harmless’ demon we warned you was far more beast than you could control?”
Hazamareth sniggered. “And here they wanted to take the whole damn ship.”
The hue of Vale’s cheeks could have rivaled a ripened beet. “Yes. Well, it grew up.”
“As they all do.”
Vale stabbed his finger at the wench, grappling for his pride. “Remember who sent me,” he snarled.
Neither mercenary was visibly swayed. Tsuki drummed his fingers along his arm and threw an offhanded rebuke. “Haz, don�
�t be so rude to our employer.” And in an instant, Hazamareth’s expression straightened, becoming eerily apathetic.
Alvena’s hand had curled so tightly that the little charm seemed to throb, and she felt another chill crawl down her spine. There was something strange about that woman. Something outside the mortal realm.
She had little time to consider the possibilities before Tsuki returned to business. “Carry on, Captain.”
Vale gathered himself despite the tangible insolence. “It was last seen in the city,” he grunted. “Bring me back a horn from its head when you’ve completed the task and you’ll receive the rest of your payment.” He tossed a bag that jangled loudly as it hit the bed beside the half-elf. Then he gestured toward the silver blades lying beside the nightstand. “A fair word of warning,” he added, a slight sneer erupting. “That fancy gear hasn’t subdued it yet.”
Tsuki seemed undaunted by Vale’s underlying threat and lifted the purse in thanks. The half-elf lowered her head in silent agreement and Alvena watched as her bangs fell back into a distasteful V-shape across her forehead. “A pleasure doing business with you, Captain. We will make short work of it.”
And as unsettling as their disposition was, Alvena seized upon their fearless stance before the captain. Maybe this was her chance—perhaps Sel’ari had sent a powerful pair to take her underwing. ‘Help,’ she mouthed, clasping her hands together.
Her fingers loosened to release the charm, but Vale reached out, jerking her solidly toward the hall. “Let’s go, bitch.”
And as the door snapped shut behind her, the two faces stared after them, staunchly indifferent.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A sharp rapping caused Sellemar to startle awake. Groggily, he raised his head from his desk and pried free the parchment stuck to his cheek.
Rap. Rap. RAP. RAP.
“What in Ramul…?” he blinked hard, struggling to focus.
Rap. RAP.
He jerked abruptly, his palm dashing to the side and spilling the still-open bottle of ink. “Damn!” he swore, skidding the chair clear before the contents could drip onto his lap. He snatched the nearest parchment and scraped it hastily across his hand. It offered little assistance and he hunted for something of more use.
Heroes or Thieves (Steps of Power 2) Page 24
