Page 106 of Reaper’s Curse

“What else might it be? It packed one powerful scream.”

Chace shook his head and sighed. “Banshees aren’t the only things that scream. And what I’m looking for, well…”

They turned a corner. To their right, a cat startled, yowled, and raced across their path, vanishing between two buildings.

Winter stared down the street. They were nearing the pub. “What are you looking for?”

“The being I am looking for is pale in complexion,” Chace said. “Have you seen anyone like that?”

“Besides me, you mean?” Winter raked his hands along his body in a manner of presentation.

Chace shot him a scowl, and Winter laughed.

“I have not, but I will keep an eye out.”

Chace shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’d still like to look for myself. I might have a sense about them that would help lead the way.”

“Them?” Winter cocked a brow.

“There is more than one,” Chace offered.

“And you think they are all in the palace somewhere?”

Chace nodded. “I do.”

“Giving you access to scour the palace isn’t such an easy thing to do.”

Neither did he think he wanted to. Helping Chace was like moving against the grain.

Still, after today…

He scratched his temple and shook his head.

A shout echoed at their backs, and Winter grabbed Chace’s shirt, dragged him into the cover of a nearby alley. They watched from within the gloom as a handful of guards jogged past and kept moving without pause.

Winter watched with a keen eye until they were beyond sight. Clearly, Winter and Chace had gone unnoticed. They stepped out of the alley and resumed the trek to the pub.

Winter lifted his chin, indicating where the guards had disappeared. “Guards and staff are constantly on the move, day and night.” He glanced to the side and noticed the flyers clinging to windows and walls of the local businesses. “But you know…” He cut the air with a pointed finger. “There is one night of the year when pandemonium falls upon the palace. That would be an excellent time to at least attempt this search of yours.”

“And when would that be?” Chace sounded less than enthused, disbelieving even.

“During the birthday ball.” Winter couldn’t help but grin at his own brilliance.

Or possible reckless stupidity. Every year, on the night of the big bash, his grandmother and parents were always secretly engaged, pulling a nice chunk of the guards for their business.

“Plus, you can wear a mask like so many others will. That way, you won’t be easily identified. If caught, a ridiculous excuse like ‘I got lost’ just might even work.”

Chace grinned, and as they reached the front of the pub, they made an agreement. Chace would return the night of the birthday ball, when the popular activity would likely keep the guards and key personnel distracted.

Winter pushed open the door, offering Chace entrance.

“Winter!” Aoes yelled from the bar, and Winter waved.

“Almost forgot,” he said to Chace, recalling his promise to Raven. “I brought you something.”

He tugged the glove from his pocket and tossed it onto a nearby table, then turned and walked away, leaving Aoes without a word.

He needed to get back to the palace, talk to the general and his grandmother, and further investigate the supposed banshee. But more importantly, he needed to check on Raven’s condition. He needed to see her with his own eyes. Feel her skin beneath his touch. Note the rise and fall of her chest. And mark her breath and heartbeat.