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Saurjuice is a powerful psychedelic that has been linked to psychotic breaks, hence its outlawing in Grave City. Unlike other brewed beverages, it does not merely relax the user. It is capable of completely obliterating their sense of reality for a period of time, or in some cases, forever.
“I wouldn’t know, sir. I don’t brew. I mind the counter.”
She seems genuinely befuddled, but that could be an act.
The saurjuice is not the main source of my concern. What bothers me are the splatters of metallic-scented, now-dried liquid in various places. I know that smell. It is the smell of a human. Raine. She was here. And she was hurt. I feel such a surge of rage it somehow passes through me and turns into a state of deadly calm. I know what to do.
“CIRRUS!”
At my order, Cirrus comes flying down the stairs, skipping the stairs themselves and gliding on partly opened wings. He takes in the scene before him. The saurjuice stench, the befuddled barmaid, and the blood.
“Take this young lady in for questioning,” I order him. “She appears to have been swept up in a criminal operation.”
I suspect her as much as I suspect anybody, but by pretending I am taken in by her act of innocence, I perhaps lull her into a sense of false security.
“Would you accompany me, please, madam?” Cirrus is courteous and very handsome, and as a result the barmaid does not seem to mind going for a long stroll with him.
“Am I in trouble?”
“I need to ask you a great many questions to ascertain what you might know. You will likely find it long and intense, but I will take good care of you.”
The maid practically melts beneath his gaze. Cirrus is a good two feet taller than she is, and he has the kind of appeal to the female saurians that makes them very compliant. He extends an arm around her and curls a wing at the same time to usher her away. The maid seems very pleased with this turn of events.
“Send Garris down, please,” I say before he leaves.
Garris comes in a more sedate fashion. I point the same things out to him.
“See this? This is human blood. This is Raine’s blood. Are you still going to tell me she hasn’t been hurt?”
The only thing that gives me any kind of respite from rage is the fact that it is a relatively small amount of blood. It is not the amount I would expect if someone were to be consumed, for instance. She has been moved, but there is a chance she is still alive.
“I’m sorry,” Garris says, his expression grim. “But I think it is time we spoke to the alpha. This is bigger than the three of us.”
He might be right.
“Fine,” I say. “Call him.”
Garris pulls out his tablet and puts the call into Thorn, though not before I see how many missed calls there already are from the alpha. It shouldn’t please me that Garris has been ignoring Thorn’s summons in order to help me, but it does.
I can hear Thorn’s voice transmitted through the air. He sounds angry. That’s rare for him.
“I sent the two of you to retrieve Avel, not join him in his rebellion. Where is he?”
“He’s with me,” Garris says. “He has found some blood he suspects belongs to his human mate. He also located a cache of saurjuice. We are dealing with both now.”
I hear a pause and then a growl. Thorn will not be pleased that Garris and Cirrus are taking orders from me, but they always have. I am his second in command, and that means everybody he sends for me has at one time or another done precisely as I have told them to do.
I shouldn’t feel as pleased as I do, but his means and method of summoning me did not please me.
“Put him on, Garris.”
Garris extends the tablet toward me. There is a brief moment in which I consider slapping it out of his hand.
“Yes, Thorn?”
“What in the primal’s name are you doing, Avel!? I have dozens of reports of you half-killing Wrath and then taking off with him. Since when do you act so recklessly?”
“Since someone took my mate,” I reply simply.
