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“I don’t know!” He is shouting the words now, and I am getting closer to believing him. His grip on me is desperate, and his voice is shaking. Nobody and nothing frightens Wrath but a tank-type saurian like him.
“You got yourself arrested on purpose.”
“I took an opportunity to meet one of those humans. I didn’t have any plans for her. Whoever took her didn’t do it on my orders. You have to believe me, you fucking psycho!”
I do believe him. I believe him because I can smell the fear on him and I can read the truth in his eyes. Wrath is a master criminal and a natural alpha. He is also a liar and a criminal, but when a saurian faces his end, he finds the truth. I have heard more confessions in my time than anybody can imagine. I know when I am hearing a genuine piece of soul. I am hearing it now.
I am also starting to feel a certain clarity. When I dragged him into the sky, I was gripped by rage, but that impulse is beginning to abate. Sense is starting to return. I am remembering who I am, not a wild primal saurian, but the alpha’s enforcer.
I start to circle down. My wings are tiring, and my arms are beginning to fatigue, and the last thing I want to do is drop him by mistake. That would probably set off a war between the underworld and the alpha’s forces. There are tensions in Grave City that have been kept dormant for the most part. But it doesn’t take much to disturb the peace.
“Thank you!” Wrath breathes a sigh of relief as the city starts to get closer and the various landmarks take on their usual size. I feel a certain sense of regret as I leave the skies. I always do. I am a creature of the air, and I always feel somewhat ill at ease when I am forced to walk upon the ground.
Wrath does not feel similarly. He wrenches himself out of my arms and nearly collapses on the ground with both his hands and feet. He damn near kisses the rocky surface.
“I never flew before,” he says. “And I hope I never fly again.”
I stand over him, my wings extended enough to provide him a slight bit of modesty from the eyes of the saurians who are rushing toward us with various levels of excitement. Some of them are simply passersby, but odds are a lot of them will be Wrath’s minions looking to settle a score. I see several of them slow their various rolls when they see that Wrath is unharmed.
“That was crazy,” he says, breathing deep in the effort to catch his breath. “I have to say, I’ve never respected you so much. Maybe you’re more than the alpha’s puppet.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll tell you one thing. There’s been a splinter crew of a few young lads forming lately. Technically they still report to me, but they’ve been breaking out on their own. I’ve been cracking down, but I don’t know if they got the message. They operate out of the old brewery. You could check there.”
“Thank you, Wrath.”
“Good luck,” he says. “You might need it.”
A small crowd has now gathered. A lot of them have their transmission tablets on them, and I know that means my aerial antics with Wrath have been recorded and broadcast. By the end of the day there won’t be a saurian in the city who doesn’t know what happened. It will be the topic of discussion in every bar and in almost every home. Usually my name is not on the lips of the populace. My name is usually whispered at best, and more often avoided entirely.
Nobody in the crowd is saying anything. They are all looking at us with glittering, bloodlust-filled eyes, hoping to see further combat. They will be disappointed. I plan to take off immediately for the old brewery. It is deep in the heart of what Wrath might consider his territory, but as the right hand of the alpha, the entire city belongs to me.
I extend my wings, and…
“THORN!”
I can see Fang and Karn, Thorn’s personal guard, approaching me through the crowd. Fang and Karn look like they could be brothers. They are both scaled in gold and red, with slightly different patterns to it. Fang’s eyes are red while Karn’s are gold. They are both very large specimens, and I have often used them in the Hall of Bones to dissuade any silliness on the parts of those who are there to suffer.
I expect them to arrest Wrath, but they walk right past him and up to me instead. The look of surprise on Wrath’s face mimics my own as the two predatory saurians come up and flank me. I almost ask if I’m under arrest, but Fang speaks first.
“Avel, Thorn needs to see you. Now.”
I don’t like his tone. I don’t like anything about this at all. I am Thorn’s first port of call when he needs someone. I was the first he called when he was attempting to capture the first human. I was there for him in the depths of the evening. And now he sends Fang and Karn for me, as if I am a criminal to be brought in.
“If Thorn needs to see me, he knows how to contact me. He can call me.”
“Thorn needs to see you urgently,” Karn repeats.
There are still ears all around us. This is not a private location, and yes, having dragged Wrath skyward has drawn a crowd. It looks and sounds as though I am being brought before the alpha. I suspect that is precisely what is happening, and I am not happy. I am stunned.
“I do not have time to see him. He, and you, should be helping me find Raine.”
“Thorn. Please.” Fang lowers his voice for the please, but that does not please me. He is hiding his pleasantries and leaving the same public impression. This will undermine me publicly. This should be done in private. This will impact my position as executioner and enforcer. I wish I cared more about that in the moment, but all I can think about is Raine. She is somewhere in this city, either alive or dead, and I do not have time to comply with the demands of underlings who should be reporting to me.
I know what refusal means. Serious trouble. My public apprehension is bad, but my public defiance of said summons will be worse. Scandal is brewing. If I do what I know I am going to do, it will boil over.
“Avel…” Karn’s voice is entering the territory of a growl. “Thorn was very specific.”
