Page 66 of Secrets of the Six

"Ines?"

I sigh. "This can't happen, Remus."

"What can't happen, exactly?" His fingers skim my shoulders and my resolve to keep him at arm's length wavers.

"Kissing in the theatre was a mistake." I say and his hands freeze. "It can't happen again."

"I don't think it was a mistake."

"Well, I do." I wiggle free from his grasp and march a few steps away from him, prepared to put a stop to this potential romance before it has a chance to truly begin. In the end, I'm the one who will be hurt. He's the one with friends, family, power and money. All I have is myself. I won't allow myself to go back to being the hollow and broken shell I was when Marco deserted me.

"Ines?"

I whip around to face him and a piece of my heart aches when I look at his somber face. "Let me change and I'll meet you in the hall."

He opens his mouth but whether he was going to try to convince me our kiss actually meant something or not dies on the tip of his tongue. He rakes a hand through his hair before nodding in reluctant compliance and giving me the privacy to ready myself for yet another long evening.

It doesn't take me long to rid myself of the dress, since Remus unfastened the buttons, and slip into my black leathers. I'm not sure where we're headed, so I bring my pistols and knives just in case I need them. I strap on my boots, purging all thoughts of Remus' touch from my mind. When I step out into the hallway, I find Remus has also changed from his fancy clothing to his black leathers. I don't see weapons strapped to his person, but that doesn't mean they don't exist.

I clear my throat, and his eyes shoot up from the floor to meet my gaze. He's once again wearing his mask which makes me pause. "Where are we going?"

He ignores my question and pulls out a matching black mask and extends it to me. "Put this on and then we'll go."

I'm far too tired to argue and obediently, although reluctantly, snatch the small black fabric from him and tie it around my head. "Are we walking?"

"Not exactly." He smiles and I can't help but sense a wickedness at play when he stands to his full height. "When is the last time you've been to confession?"

Chapter 23

Ines

We stick to the shadows as we sneak through alleys and dash across docked gondolas bobbing atop sleepy canals, the water deceptively soothing as it hides many mysteries below. Sometimes the terror of Marco's corpse escaping the bindings and weights and floating to the surface to expose my sin encourages me to avoid the canals, but with them carving throughout the entire city, it would prove difficult to do.

Slinking through the Night District, avoiding all the drunken revelry, I assume we're heading to The Jaded Fox to meet with the others. Or at least convene in the upstairs apartment Shaw and Carmen take up residence, but Remus suddenly cuts down a narrow alley leading in the opposite direction of the bar. The safe house in the Bronze District comes to mind, but that can't be where we're going either because Remus suddenly scales a building and heaves himself up to the roof. He doesn't look back to ensure I'm behind him, but I easily follow suit and climb up the side of the stone building, using divots and cracks to secure my footing, and slide up over the terracotta roof tiles. Without exchanging a word or look, we tip-toe across trellises and head south which takes us to the Scholars District.

Some of the oldest buildings are in this part of the city and with countless libraries, churches, and university lecture halls, this is the perfect place for someone to not only get lost but to stumble upon ancient secrets. It's also the best place to meet with others and no one would suspect ill intent.

I take a deep, satisfying breath, inhaling the crisp, cool night air and smile. I haven't scaled a building and darted across rooftops, leaping from balcony to balcony, in months and it feels really damn good. Freeing. Speed, precision, and little regard for how one slip of the foot could lead to peril are all keys to becoming a true shadow of death and wraith of destruction.

Since leaving Otero's, Remus and I haven't exchanged a single word which suits me just fine. The last thing I need or want is for him to pester and pry into my feelings. I'd rather plummet to an early, gruesome death than admit how kissing him felt.

It's been an hour of me silently following him, matching every acrobatic move across the slumbering city. Part of me wonders if this is another one of his weird tests to see my stealth skills in action. But as soon as we turn the corner, a small gasp leaves my lips, bringing me to a stop.

Iglesia de los Santos, which was the first constructed church in Orlencia, comes into view and its beauty bids me to take a moment to admire its splendor. I crouch and examine the spires that stretch toward the starry night sky like fingers begging to touch the Saints themselves. Mullions usher my eyes down to countless bar and plate traceries housing stained-glass windows of enviable craftsmanship. The intricate designs and vibrant colors beckon me to come closer.

But this church, glorious as it is, doesn't welcome my kind. The only patrons allowed to enter the arched wooden doors are the rich and powerful. The poor and ill were never welcome to cross the stone threshold, but that doesn't mean I haven't wondered what splendor hid behind the masonry.

Bells suddenly toll from the tower, alerting no one in particular that midnight has come, and the mischief of the night is now at play.

Remus squats beside me and quietly drinks in the majestic architecture until the twelfth chime ends, the melody trailing off in the distance. I'm not really sure what his beliefs are and I'm not sure I care. He's a Venturan and therefore his people, when they first integrated with Orlencian society, would have been encouraged to convert to the overall faith of the city. I don't really believe in anything or anyone other than myself. I've never failed myself, even in my lowest of lows – of which there have been plenty. In the end, if the Saints do exist, I doubt they would willingly accept my wicked and wretched soul.

I'm not sure how long we sit in admiration, but Remus finally breaks the extended silence when he stands. "Come. It's far more impressive inside."

My eyes widen. "We're going to Iglesia de los Santos?" I shake my head, a sudden fear washing over me, reminding me of my stained heart. "It's reserved for wealthy practitioners."

"Last I checked, the Saints didn't put restrictions on who could worship them where. That's a construct created and enforced by men." He reaches his hand out. "Now hurry. Olli will be waiting."

My brows pinch together, once again nursing the nagging thought Remus isn't being completely honest with me. "Olli? Why would Olli be inside the church?"