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“Why?”
He didn’t fully know. “I suppose… since you have refused to take the easy way out, this has become your hunt as much as it is mine. Besides.” He grimaced. “I need someone to keep me sane.”
He’d lost it with Kilron and even though Zoya was now safe, the anxiety dug at him. How close everything was to unraveling.
She stood there, examining him. He hadn’t gone to the palace that day, so he only wore a simple tunic and trousers, though his cloak still rested on his shoulders. He grasped its edges as he awaited her response. Would she agree? Part of him hated himself for wanting her there. But a distraction might keep him from dwelling on his worries.
And if Odette was anything, she was distracting.
Finally, she nodded. “Let’s go.”
Relief flooded through him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bean.
He took her to a spot next to a flowing river. The sound of rushing water trickling over rocks and boulders roared in the background.
“If the directions the villagers gave me are correct, it should be this way,” he said and they set off on a partially overgrown trail.
He glanced at Odette, who walked beside him, brushing her curls back whenever they blew into her face. That thin dress billowed out in front of her, clinging to her curvy backside. Damn, she was gorgeous. He had the sudden urge to grab her and feast on her full lips.
Would she like that? He certainly would. But he’d been turned on enough by her mere proximity to know if he started, he’d be loathed to stop.
Not to mention she was his enemy. The woman who had tried to kill him. The woman he was supposed to hate.
He did hate her.
But this time, when he thought it, the words felt empty.
“Tell me.” He cleared his throat and cast around for the first thing that came to his mind. “Why is this Lina so important to you?”
“Someone is full of invasive questions this evening.”
He held up his hands. “Just trying to understand the assassin dynamics.”
She looked him up and down, as if attempting to decide if he was worth her answer.
“I introduced Lina to the assassins.” She pursed her lips, but then continued. “I found her on the street, starving, struggling to survive. Her sister Yessly had secured a position with a sorceress and had left Lina with a local bar owner and occasionally sent money. But the bar owner was cruel and beat her for no reason and didn’t give Lina her money. So she left, with nowhere to go. When I came upon her…” Odette sucked in a breath and shuddered. “She was passed out from hunger in a side alley. I brought her home and Mother, though she acted sympathetic, refused her entrance into the assassins. We weren’t a charity, she said. But once she discovered Yessly had some adeptness with magic, she changed her tune pretty quick. That was how Yessly and Lina joined us. I…” She glanced away. “I guess because I introduced her to this life, I feel responsible for her. She probably regrets my interference now.”
He frowned, wondering what it would be like to choose between letting a child starve or introducing them to a life of danger and violence.
“And your story?”
She kept her gaze averted. “Mine was… different. My mother raised me in this life.” Her words became short, clipped. “I’ve known little else.”
She was shutting down, and Rothbart let her be. This was the longest, most civil discussion they’d ever had. It was nice to know they were capable of having one.
He spotted the large tree that looked as if lightning had split it right down the middle. The villagers had told him to watch for that sign. They were close to their destination.
“The cottage should be just up ahead.”
He hurried his pace, searching through the trees for signs of life. Odette remained at his side.
They came to an opening, and Rothbart stopped in his tracks and stared at the home that should belong to Helga and her husband. His breath lodged in his throat at the dark marks streaking along the walls and blackening what was left of the roof. A pit gathered in his stomach, making him feel sick.
“No.” The word came out as a strangled hiss between his teeth.
The cottage was no more than a burned out husk.
Chapter 15
