AllFreeNovel
Share Us
On the back of one of the bikes, a box was fastened tightly with rope.
I gave Bain a questioning look when I first noticed it. If he knew what was inside, he gave no sign.
At a glance, it was an ordinary wooden box, free of carving, with a lock on the front.
I remembered Bain's mention of a transaction. Presumably a gift of some kind lay inside. It was too small for a person, unless a child was stashed in there.
When I sniffed the air, I smelled Bain, our escort, motorbikes, leather, oil and the timber of the box itself. The faint hint of flowers came from somewhere, but I couldn't tell where.
Whatever was inside the box either had no scent, or was masked very well. No hint of decomposing anything, or of terror.
I looked at the back of Bain's head and told myself I was being paranoid. A lot of things had only a subtle scent, at least to me. As far as I could tell, I was able to smell better than the average witch; a shifter gift, or curse, presumably.
However, I didn't have the senses of a dog, or a dragon. Thank Hades for that, or I might be overwhelmed by the smallest stink.
I frowned toward Bain. According to one of my brothers, animals could smell fear. I could. Could the big guy do the same? Maybe we weren't that different. Was that why he said he would tell me more later?
I cursed myself for not having pinned him down sooner to get answers. Now, surrounded by people, I could only sit on the roaring bike and guess what—
We stopped at a red light. Even here in the Vault we had to wait, in spite of there being no traffic coming the other way.
A rush of air passed my ear.
Instinctively, I ducked. A moment later, Bain slammed the bike to a stop, leapt off, grabbed my shoulders and pulled me off onto the road. He turned us both and pushed me into a crouch.
"What the—"
"Shhh!" He pressed my head down lower and shielded me with his body. "We're too exposed here, we need to move."
"How do we—"
He cut me off again. "Shhh. This way." He hauled me to my feet, grabbed my hand and tugged me toward a nearby shoemaker's shop. He shoved me inside and pushed me down behind the front window.
"Stay there," he ordered before he hurried back onto the street.
Outside sounded as though chaos had broken out. People shouted. At least one child cried loudly.
"I'm not helpless, you know," I muttered.
"Of course you're not," a voice said behind me.
Keeping low, I whipped around to see a small woman behind the work desk. At first, I assumed she was older, skin darkened with age and sun. Then she wiped her brow and whatever she was working with came off in a streak.
"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." Like I had a choice. What was Bain's problem anyway?
The shoemaker shrugged, but flashed a smile. She grabbed up a cloth and wiped her face. Under the grime, she wasn't much older than me.
"It's not every day we get such excitement around here."
"Thank fuck for that," I said wryly.
"Who tried to kill you?" The shoemaker kept an eye on the door and picked up a piece of leather. She began to work it around a chunk of wood the shape of a foot.
"I don't know. They probably weren't trying to get at me." I rose enough to peer through the window.
The guards stood near the bikes, knives in hand. They'd already shed helmets and jackets, ready to shift if they needed to.
The box seemed intact. If thieves tried to attack, they failed. So far, at least.
