AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know Raine’s missing. Everybody in the city knows Raine is missing thanks to your outburst. She’ll be found.”
“I know. Because I intend to find her.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Avel. I have investigators on the case.”
“And I just found her blood on the floor following Wrath’s tip. So I think I’m going to keep pursuing my methods.”
There’s a brief pause. “Are you defying me, Avel?”
“Only if you make me.” I answer without hesitation.
“Avel…” Thorn rumbles. “You know better than this. You’re out of control, and the population is taking note.”
“Good. Then they will learn not to interfere with my mate. I am going to track this blood trail, Thorn. Let me know if there are any useful updates.”
I disconnect the commlink and hand the tablet back to Garris, who takes it with a stunned look on his face. He probably cannot believe I just spoke to Thorn that way. There’s some part of me that is also surprised, I suppose. I had never imagined I would deny the alpha anything or defy him so blatantly. But every now and then, something comes along that justifies a radical shift in priorities. Raine is that shift. I would do much more than take Wrath for a little ride in the sky or tell Thorn I can’t come to see him at the moment to get her back.
A moment later, Cirrus calls.
“Speak,” I say, ignoring the way the tablet vibrates with the alpha’s attempts to call me back.
“The maid has some interesting things to say. She’s given me the names of all the saurians who’ve visited the place in the last forty-eight hours. A lot of them match Torin’s crew.”
“Why am I not surprised? Where is Torin? Has he deployed to the bar yet?”
“Torin is supposed to be out at the Ground Bar. But he isn’t there. I already called. He didn’t show. Add another one to the missing list.”
6 CRIME AND ANARCHY
Raine
I come to my senses in a very comfortable room. There are beautiful tapestries all over the walls, and I am lying on a pile of fine cushions at the foot of a very large bed. The room smells like plants and musk. It’s messy, with items of clothing and tools and treasures sort of strewn about as if they were put down haphazardly and simply left there. It reminds me of some of the crew quarters I’ve seen on the Mare, usually belonging to new pirates who still think they need to keep every bit of loot and booty they come across.
“You’re awake.”
I find myself looking into the eyes of a familiar face. Torin looks different now that he’s at ease in his own environment. I’m going to guess that we are still somewhere underground. There’re no windows, and the walls have that hard-packed look that gives the place the feeling of a lair.
“I am,” I agree, sitting up slowly. I expect to hurt, and I do, though not as much as I expected. There’s a certain pleasant, numb sensation suffusing me, making me feel nice and relaxed. I could fight the feeling, try to become alert and combat ready, but I am not sure I can be bothered. My psychedelic jaunt through the past was harrowing, and I’m happy to be separated from it.
He’s wearing a black and red silky robe and shorts, lounging on his bed with a paintbrush in his hand, a canvas perched on an easel to one side. He’s painting a view of the city, and it’s not bad. Wouldn’t have picked him for the artistic type. His hair isn’t gelled up the way it was when I saw him in the Hall of Bones. It is swept to one side in an artistic sort of way, giving him the appearance of a relaxed, surprisingly cultured young thing. He appeared to be such an incorrigible little shit when he was brought before Avel. This change in appearance and temperament is quite interesting.
“Torin, right?” I check to make sure it’s really him. It could easily be some other saurian, I suppose, though I don’t think I could forget his face, and the smirk he gives me is highly reminiscent of the looks he gave Avel before he was humbled.
“Yes,” he says, making a few languid strokes on his canvas. There’s something very strange about this scene, though I am finding it hard to say exactly what is striking me so oddly. Perhaps it is simply how calm it is. I have been roughly treated, injured, cursed at, and dragged about the place for what feels like days. Now it seems as though I am waking up at some perfectly congenial sleepover.
“How did I get here?”
“They brought you to me after you overdosed on saurjuice. You drank enough to drop a tank. You should probably be dead.” He glances over at me, lime green gaze somewhat reproachful, as if I should have known better.
“I’m surprisingly hard to kill.”
“Actually, you’re very easy to kill. It’s just that I decided to give you the antidote. Saurspice reverses the effects of the juice.”
These names are pretty odd. They’re the equivalent of saying peoplejuice and peoplespice, but I’m not here to challenge the saurian linguistic experience. I’m here to float on a raft of cushions, none of which came from anything resembling the same place. This whole room looks thrown together by someone who picks up anything that takes their fancy and brings it home whether it makes sense or not.
“Thank you. Why did you do that?”
“Thought saving you might earn me some time off my sentence or commute it completely. I know Avel likes you. He almost murdered my uncle in front of the entire city to get you. So I figure, if I save your life, he won’t send me off to do…” Torin pauses for a moment, then shivers visibly with disgust. “Construction.”
