“You think?”
“Trust me.”
Sonah looked at him skeptically. Croak twisted his lips and moved forward, taking the key from her hands and unlocking the door. He pressed the latch; the door swung open to reveal the darkened interior.
Sonah sighed in relief.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Croak said with a smirk as he flicked her nose.
“Gods!”
“Good night, gorgeous,” Croak called as he shut the door behind him.
Sonah slumped off her clothes and sighed as she slid between the cool sheets. As she lay back and closed her eyes, the world swam alarmingly. She snapped her eyes open. Sonah was so tired but too drunk to sleep. Did that even make sense?
She groaned, leaning up and punching the pillow a few times to make it more comfortable before settling on her side.
Nope. Worse.
She swore and sat up. Much too quickly. She had a second to aim before her dinner and all those drinks that seemed a good idea at the time came up. She groaned and wiped her mouth, looking at the mess she’s made on the floor between the beds.
Sonah whimpered, thinking of how she had to get up now to clean it up.
As gently as she could, Sonah rose and put on her pants and shirt. She didn’t bother putting her boots on as she padded across the cold wood floor and unlatched the door carefully. No sounds came from the hallway, so she ducked out and closed the door softly behind her.
Taking the stairs painfully slow, she strained to hear any noises from below. When she was satisfied, she moved swiftly across themain room on the first level, easing around the tables. The only light in the room came from the windows, the weak predawn light enough for her to see the bar counter. Sonah tiptoed over and went behind it, hands out to feel for some kind of cloth or hopefully a bucket she could fill with water to clean up her mess.
Ducking down behind the counter to search, Sonah heard a door open and several voices in low tones before the door closed again. Sonah froze, crouched as she was, listening.
“….make a move before we get to the north,” a familiar voice said. Sonah blinked, recognizing Michael’s voice. Soft laughter followed his remark. They were speaking in the common tongue. Probably because Fane—who was not Greek but Offeni from the east—did not speak it well.
“That’s why I haven’t,” Jason replied, defensively. “I like her, very much. But I’m Liodari and she’ll be gone soon.” They were closer now, almost to the stairs. Sonah frowned and made to move, to announce herself, when Fane spoke.
“The commander doesn’t seem to share that sentiment. I never knew him to be that cold-blooded. First, he kills her lover and then he beds her. Ruthless.”
Sonah froze, the blood draining from her face. She became dizzy. Looking up, Sonah tried to get a look at the men as they ascended the stairs. There was a thud and Sonah jumped, clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jason hissed.
Sonah’s pulse roared in her ears as she moved, slouching around the bar. She stepped closer to the stairs. The men had paused on the steps.
“Never talk about that. Don’t say it again,” he warned, his voice low, but she heard the anger in them. He said something in a whisper and she strained to hear, but this time Jason had switched to Greek and she only understood a couple words.
One was Lerek. The other was Terena.
She was ill again and feared she might give herself away by retching when they continued up the stairs.
Sonah took deep breaths, hoping to calm her stomach, but her mind raced.
What the fuck?she thought as she sat on the ground next to the bar.
What did he mean?
Why would Daris kill Prince Lerek?
He wouldn’t.
