He’s not happy.
I don’t care.
“What are you doing?” I demand, forcing my whisper to be flat, imposing. “Following me around while I was with Ulfhild’s girls was one thing. This is a whole ‘nother level of wrong. Why are you stalking me?”
“Foolish female. So, so dangerous.”
By the gods, I already hate when he calls me that. I may be a lot of things, but foolish is not one of them. I open my mouth to tell him off, but before I can, he wrests his arm away and spins to continue stalking down the street. But now he’s walking so fast I nearly need to jog to keep up with him.
“I’m not done talking to you. Why are you following me?”
“I would not follow you,” he insists. “You keep showing up in places you don’t belong. And now you’ve pissed off Bevin so much that he decided you need a caretaker. So I’m stuck with you.” He stops abruptly, turning to inspect me. “I may have no choice now, but rest assured, we will finish this job for Bevin and then you will never see me again. I’m done trying to save you.”
“I told you before, I don’t need to be saved. And definitely not by you.” When he doesn’t start walking again, I look around, lifting my arm to gesture ahead. “I don’t know where we’re going,” I remind him.
He watches me for another moment and then pivots abruptly, a spring released from a vise. Without a word, he’s racing down the street again.
We travel halfway across Revalle without another word. His route takes us through the best neighborhoods and the worst. But even with the demanding pace, my ire at him doesn’t waver. I don’t want to spend another minute with this man. I’m not sure how I’ll get through the next two weeks without killing him.
Finally, just as I’m starting to consider abandoning Fhord and returning to Bevin to plead with him to give me any other job, Fhord comes to an abrupt stop in front of what looks like an abandoned building. I glance up to see a faded sign barely hanging from rusty cords. “The Lucky Duck.” I remember this place—a brothel that closed down after one too many clients came away with blue balls. It almost started an epidemic.
This day just gets worse and worse.
“Here?” I demand. “You do know what this place was, don’t you?”
“Here,” he tells me. He looks up and all around us before twisting the lock and opening the door to step through quickly. When I don’t follow right away, he grips my arm and pulls me inside.
“Stop it.” I yank my arm away from him, stepping back as he shuts the door behind us and turns the lock again. “Don’t touch me.”
“Then don’t make me,” he says. “Nobody can see us coming in here. We don’t dawdle on the street.”
“Just say something next time.” I look up and am surprised to see light billowing down toward us. “Are there others here?”
“My people use this space when we’re in Revalle. I need to gather supplies and let someone know he won’t be joining me on this job.”
“Why? Won’t we be more effective if we have help? Maybe get this over with more quickly?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid.
By the gods, I hate this man.
“I will not have any of them spend time with you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I may have no choice. They do. They’ll stay here while we do what Bevin asked.”
“Sure. Because it’s that horrible to spend time with me.” I don’t wait for an answer before finding the closest staircase and stomping up. I need to see what I’ve gotten myself into.
It’s not at all what I expected. I find their haven on the third floor and it’s wonderful. Cozy and warm. A big fire blazing in the corner. Comfortable couches with plenty of pillows. A large circular dining room table with chairs scattered all around it.
And people who don’t want me here sitting in them. Four faces stare at me with varying degrees of surprise and distrust.
“Why is she with you?” The woman who led this group in the forest speaks first, standing abruptly as her right hand rests on the knife on her belt.
“Bevin stuck me with her. Wants her to help me on this new job he gave me. I’ve got no choice.”
One of the men grunts. As I turn to look, his face settles into a grimace. He’s enormous. A bear, with thick red hair and an even thicker beard. But his eyes capture my attention. They’re brown and soft and kind.
“Does he know?” he asks in a muted tone.
“Quiet, Torsten,” Fhord says.
