“We—we’re closed,” Sol stammered, carefully inching toward her satchel.
Her knives. She had her knives there.
“Fortunately, we aren’t here for mediocre food,” the dark-haired woman said, leaning back in her chair. “And if you think anything in that bag of yours will help you avoid us, you’re mistaken.”
The man next to the red-haired woman,—the tallest of the bunch, with deep tawny skin—shot a look at the girl. “Gods, Sawyer.”.
The dark-haired woman—Sawyer—shrugged. “Just saving her the effort.”
Sol knew she didn’t have many options. Lora would tell her to run.
So, she did.
Shifting on her heel, she stumbled back to the entrance and threw the doors open, knocking over some chairs in her way. She heard soft murmurs, then footsteps following.
Faster.
Faster.
Sol ran down the cobblestone walkway that led into the street, then propelled herself into the night. Tears flew from her eyes as the footsteps behind her grew closer. Veering to the only place she felt safe, she turned down an alley she knew would lead to the beach.
“Godsdamn it,” a male voice mumbled from behind as she evaded the holes and puddles along thenarrow space. The air burned in her lungs. The smell of sweat mixed with rotten food filled her nostrils until the salty spray of the ocean greeted her as she launched herself onto the docks.
Now what, genius?
Sol wondered what she had done to offend the gods when a large hand wrapped around her bicep, stopping her from heading onto the sweet, beautiful beach.
“No—stop it!” She planted her feet on the ground and clawed at the person’s forearm. “You can take anything you want from the Inn, just let me go!”
The man pulled her against his chest, his forearm wrapping around the front of her shoulders. “You are weaker than anticipated.”
Sol panted, continuing to twist and fight her way out of his grip as he dragged them off the docks and back to the road. “Why are you doing this?” she ground out. “Please, leave our town alone!”
Sol knew once they were done with her they would move on to the next victim, continuing their search for whatever they wanted. No. She had to survive somehow, to spare others from such a fate. To tell Holden’s family she knew what happened.
“Relax, we won’t take long,” the man said, his voice too close to her ear.
We won't take long.
Panic coursed through her at the statement, enough that she did the only thing she remembered Leo telling her to do during this sort of hold.
She bit the man’s arm.
Hard.
He let out a string of curses and released her, knocking her to the ground. She flinched as her knees collided with the solid wood of the docks, then slid away before swirling to face him. Her breath caught, and for a moment she stilled. The man’s eyes were moonlight and storm clouds on a foggy winter morning.
The strangest shade of silver stared back at her. He furrowed his brows as he held his forearm. “Really?”
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why me—why Holden?”
The ships docked behind her swayed with the waves, softly clanking against one another as a gust of wind blew a chill over Sol. She didn’t dare tear her gaze away from the man, not even as he straightened.
He was perhaps a full foot taller than her, his black suit reinforced with dark armor, a black-and-purple cloak grazing over his boots.
He angled his head. “Who?”
“He was a good man!” She pushed herself back with her heels, scooting away from the weight of his glare. “Holden had a family. A wife.”
