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Vesara glared. “Do you think all of this comes without strings attached?”
“I spent years living out of a metal shed, plunged in six-foot snow drifts. Sign me up for strings,” Gireth said. Sensing potential danger, his salamander wriggled off.
Gireth moved onto the terrace and dropped into a pile of silk cushions, giving Vesara a challenging “come and get me” look. Vesara disregarded him, joining three women at the bar conversing over fruity drinks. Gold hoops shone in their ears—symbols of their wealth. Tenah spun one of her own hoops, debating ripping it out.
This normalcy the crew had slipped into was unsettling. Well, with the exception of Renton. He’d propped up against a terrace wall, arms and legs crossed in typical, closed-off fashion. Blood still caked his cheek where he’d been cut.
Urgency to flee tugged at her like a rope around her middle. Chaos dug into the slimy feeling, darkness thickening in her channels. Potent notes of coppery magic burned inside her nostrils. Aching fingers popped in her gloves.
They are a distraction you cannot afford. Seek more power in pursuit of your enemy.
Her eyes flicked around the terrace, fearful Aeyis would pick up on her conversation with Chaos. Would he alert Renton?
Desperate to escape the situation, Tenah stole off in pursuit of her goal.
Chapter15
Renton
Two things ensnared Renton’s mind.
One, he was pretty sure Gireth had let it slip that he’d spent time on Dreaddix. After all their catching up on the flight over, his friend hadn’t mentioned it once. But there was nowhere else on the isles with that much snow. He filed the topic away for later unpacking.
And two, Tenah was up to something.
Renton peeled off the terrace wall when the air shifted, the undercurrent of coppery magic trailing her as she crept off. He was beginning to think she craved trouble. Where would she seek it out now?
Aeyis popped up onto his feet, a furrow between his brows. He hesitated, awkwardly pushing tangles of hair from his face.
They needed to talk, that was for fucking sure. But right now, Renton was more concerned with the safety of the Chaos-wielding, death-defying creature slipping away. More so, he feared for anyone that crossed her path.
She’s headed for the Abyss, Aeyis said.
Renton growled. “Of course she is.”
Dumbfounded, Gireth looked between the brothers. “All right, boys. There’s a secret conversation going on here.”
Renton cut for the stairs, his temper flaring.
“She might want some privacy, you know,” Vesara shouted from the terrace bar.
“Yeah? In the Abyss?” Renton glared back at the assassin.
Her cocky expression melted. With a quick kiss to the cheek of the Vozarian woman she’d been chatting up, she fell in line behind Gireth and Aeyis on his heels.
Outside the villa, Renton’s nostrils flared as he worked to isolate the hint of dark magic that had been woven around Tenah since she’d awakened in the snowy field days ago.
“Do you even know how to get there?” Vesara asked.
“I thought the Abyss was just a rumor.” Gireth wiggled his fingers at the word “rumor.”
Vesara rolled her eyes. “Does the moon set in the west? Rumors in these parts almost always stem from truth, but I wouldn’t expect outsiders to know where the entrances to the Abyss are located.”
“Um,” Aeyis interrupted quietly, shifting on his feet. “I can just track her. I’m tuned in.”
Renton turned to his brother, jaw clenching. “Lead us then.”
Aeyis guided them through the impoverished sectors and down into the sewers. Foul stench assaulted their senses. Renton didn’t mind so much. It kept the others from opening their mouths. The low-ceilinged tunnel they followed ended at a simple wooden door that must have marked the entrance to the illicit market. Renton homed in on a smear of fresh blood above the handle. He frowned.
