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“I will tell you mine if you tell me yours,” I said, not waiting for him before taking a sip. As I suspected—strong, but nothing compared to the golden aural.
The male’s smile curved over his cup.
“Jax,” he said, offering a hand.
“Gwen,” I said as I held out my own.
The growl behind me came again—though I wasn’t sure if it was from the use of Gwen’s name or the way that Jax was holding my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles twice before releasing it.
I tucked my hand into the folds of my loose pants, near enough to grab my dagger if needed. The growling faded away. But several patrons behind me were leaving in a hurry, pricking my suspicions.
“Who’s the muscle?” Jax asked, eyes drifting over my shoulder.
I had no choice but to turn and look. To see Arran, back against the tavern wall, glaring at the pair of us.
I thought that Jax looked like Arran? I could have laughed at my own foolishness. Jax was a handsomer-than-usual elemental fae with dark features and an easy smile.
The Brutal Prince looked like death itself. Even in a cloak that was too small, his eyes glared out. Sinister black holes that threatened to swallow me up—to punish me for every wrong I’d ever committed. My blasted body thrummed with desire at the thought.
I spun in my seat, determined to give him my back. This was too important to be distracted by my own ridiculous lust.
I waved a hand dismissively over my shoulder. “A bodyguard. My employer wishes to ensure that his information is returned safely.”
“There was no mention of a guard,” Jax said, splitting his gaze between me and Arran.
“I was promised information. And yet so far, all you’ve done is waste my time,” I said sharply. That earned back his gaze.
“Ask your question,” he said.
“I want details about your shipments.”
Jax laughed loudly into his cup of ambrosia. “When? What? Where? I cannot give you that information, and well you know it.”
I took a daintier but long sip. Let him think I was loosening up. “It’s the who I’m interested in, and only one particular shipment.”
“Youremployeris insane if you think I’ll reveal identities. It is called the Shadows, for Ancestors’ sake. No amount of gold is worth what they’ll do to me,” Jax said. There was no fear in his eyes, but there was conviction.
“I imagine the Shadows are very good at disposing of bodies.” I fingered the hilt of my dagger.
His eyes flashed. “Indeed.”
Setting down my cup, I shifted my weight and hooked a thumb around the hilt of each dagger at my waist. “I don’t care who is doing the shipping, I want to knowwhois being shipped.”
Understanding dawned on his face, as well as panic.
I was getting close, then.
“We don’t trade in human cargo.”
I slid my elbow across the bar top, leaning over and resting my head casually atop my fist. I summoned the lazy smile I’d so often seen Parys wear when talking court gossip out of his fellow courtiers.
“We both know that there is what is said, and there is what isdone,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.
Jax adjusted the collar of his coat, avoiding my eye as he asked, “Is the Queen of Secrets cracking down on illicit imports?”
I choked on my ambrosia. “The Queen of Secrets?”
Jax scoffed derisively, clanking his cup down on the bar top hard enough to splash some of the flowery scented liquid over the edge. “Isn’t that what she is? She hides up there in her goldstone palace, reigning on high, above us all. But we know nothing about her.”
