Page 28 of Blood & Claw

Kayla’s apprentice was unsettling.

Finding her in here solved a problem though.

He hadn’t followed her into this ale-hall—indeed, he’d been surprised to see her in such a place—but now he had her attention, he’d use it.

He’d been trailing her for days now, waiting for her to bring him to Kayla.

As yet, she hadn’t.

He’d lived in Farnoch for the past six moons but had recently risked returning to Braewall.

He’d been careful, leaving his stallion behind and disguising himself as a salt peddler. However, upon arriving at the fort, he’d discovered the tattooist missing. After questioning a vagrant living in the wynd outside the workshop, he’d learned that Kayla’s apprentice had set off in pursuit of the mercenaries, alone. He’d tracked her on foot, always careful to keep out of sight.

And now, here she was, desperate and in trouble, offering herself up like a lamb to wolves.

He should have known that sooner or later, she’d need to hire muscle.

And here he was. In the right place at the right time.

“So,” he said, settling back against the rough wood and slinging an arm across the back of the booth. “Tell me about this job.”

She hesitated, fingers curling around her cup. He’d retrieved it for her from the table near the door. Those nails. They’d raked the air like talons when she’d nearly gone for the other man’s face. It was difficult not to stare at them.

“A woman has been taken,” she said finally, her voice low. “A group of men … abducted her from Braewall a few nights ago.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“What makes you think they traveled to Farnoch?”

“I followed them.” Her jaw set. “They’re here. I saw them this afternoon.”

His attention sharpened at that. He’d entered the fort shortly after her but had been stopped and questioned by guards at the gate. They’d seen him come and go often of late and wanted to know his business. By the time he’d gotten free of them, she’d stopped talking to the pie-seller and disappeared.

“Where?” he asked, careful to keep his tone all business.

“In an ale-hall.”

“There are plenty of them in this fort. Which one?”

Her gaze narrowed. “It’s just up from the market ground, on one of the eastern wynds.”

He knew it, one of his favorite drinking spots. “You didn’t approach the men?”

“No,” she replied curtly.

Of course, she hadn’t. They wouldn’t be sitting in this ale-hall talking if she had.

She’d be dead.

“How heavily armed were they?”

Her gaze shadowed. “It was hard to see … they were wearing large black cloaks.”

Impatience curled up then, and he checked the urge to drum his fingers on the table.

He had a lead now, and that meant he was wasting time here chatting to Kayla’s apprentice. The tattooist herself was somewhere in this fort.