It was possibly the most obvious thing I’d ever said, but it felt good to admit it. To say it out loud. The disappointment I felt, the small, twisted urge to go back in there and finish what the boys started… Yeah. Iclearlywasn’t okay.
We started walking back to the hotel. Will and I walked ahead, side by side, our steps slow against stone. The streets were quiet in the evening, with only a few figures moving beneath the soft golden haze of lanterns. Alevé felt gentler at night, slower, quieter.
I shot him a look, but my lips twitched. “You know, it was kind of nice watching you two fight someone else for once. Instead of each other.”
Will huffed a small laugh, but Aran didn’t say a word. He just kept walking, gaze focused somewhere far ahead.
“Yeah, haven’t done that in a while,” Will said.
“My heroes.” I drawled. ”Oh what would I have done without you two?”
“Probably ended up scorching the building.”
I slowed a little. “Okay,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “When are you gonna tell us what’s wrong? You’re unusually quiet.”
Aran looked at me. “Aside from us nearly killing that guy?”
“Aside from that.” I said.
He didn’t answer right away.
“There’s something you’re not telling us,” I pushed. “I can feel it. Don’t lie to me.”
Aran finally exhaled through his nose, his jaw shifting. “Fine, but you won’t like it.”
“I already don’t,” I muttered.
Will slowed too, glancing between us. “Come on, what is it? Did he say something else?”
Aran shrugged, then rubbed at his temple. “Sort of.”
I slowed my steps, eyes narrowing. “What? What did he say?”
“Hey, come on. If you don’t tell us, we’ll have to interrogate it out of you.” Will said, bumping Aran’s shoulder lightly.
He didn’t laugh. Just exhaled and rubbed his jaw with one hand. “The word theatre… it seemed off. So I keptasking. What kind of theatre buys girls? It shouldn’t be that hard to hire people. Especially not in a city like this. There had to be more to it.”
Will furrowed his brow. “And?”
“It’snota theatre,” Aran said, his voice low, almost lost to the wind. “Not really.”
My stomach dropped. Something in the way he said it told me everything I needed to know. I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Then what is it?”
He didn’t look away. Just held my gaze with that quiet apology that always came before the worst kind of truths.
“It’s a front,” he said. “For a brothel.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Will was struggling. His words came out stiff and tangled, the foreign syllables tripping over his tongue as he tried again, gesturing, like waving his hands would help. The carriage driver only stared at him, unmoved. The man looked ancient. His skin was dry and cracked like old bark, with a wiry beard clinging to his jaw. His eyes were sharper than they seemed, flicking between us, lingering on me longer than I liked. He muttered something under his breath. I caught just enough to know he understood more than he let on.
Maybe he just wanted Will to make a fool out of himself. Will pressed his lips together. Normally I might’ve laughed, but I didn’t have it in me.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Licia.
I could see it. Feel it. Hands. Rough, hungry hands. The same kind that had pinned me down once, shoving me into the dirt, stealing everything I was. Arche had walked away and left me there, but the hands on Licia never let go. And she’d trusted him, just as I had once trusted Arche. Licia trusted the man with the serpent tattoo, and he sold her to a fucking brothel. I had completely lost it the day before, when I found out. The word alone had made my stomach turn.
