“You don’t have to,” Venn interrupted.
Wilf opened his mouth, but the words never found air because a new arrival spoke. “I know where it is.”
A chill snaked down Vera’s spine, stiffening her entire body as she spotted the Rose. The shock of seeing the infamous assassin warred with the terror of coming face to face with her sister’s murderer again. His brown hair was tousled; presumably by the wind, since his wrists were bound in chains. His smile was small and horribly pleasant. He had a handsome face, though his soul was pure darkness.
Venn’s arm tightened around her back. His words were for Wilf—as if he planned to ignore the assassin completely. “I’ll stay with her. There’s no point dragging her back there.”
The Rose may have rocked Vera’s footing, but she could ask Venn about his presence later—when the assassin wasn’t smiling at her. For now, she needed to think about Clare. And there was no way Wilf, Venn, and a chained assassin would be enough to free her.
“There are too many mercenaries,” she told them.
“We have more men,” Wilf returned without pause.
Venn shifted slightly, his arm around her waist tightening. His bearing was protective and strong, and it took everything in her not to lean against him as she spoke to Wilf. “I’ll come with you.”
As expected, Venn protested. Even if she’d broken his heart—even if a part of him hated her now—he was still fiercely protective. “You need rest. You—”
“I need to help Clare.” She craned her neck to look up at him, swallowing hard as she was once again struck by how absolutely breathtaking he was.
She had no right to think of him that way, of course. Not anymore.
“Please, just . . . don’t leave me.” The words might have sounded pathetic, but they were true.
His lips pressed into a line and his hand tightened against her waist. “No one will touch you.”
His resolute promise warmed her, even as it made her stomach drop. How had she let her fears and guilt ruin her chances with this incredible man?
He was still staring at her, and he would spot her fresh tears. Not wanting to alarm him, she forced a thin, somewhat watery smile.
He didn’t look wholly reassured.
Chapter 2
Venn
Venn stood back as the physician checked Vera over, but he didn’t leave the room. He liked to think he would have, if Vera had asked.
Thank the fates she hadn’t.
The Mortisian woman who tended Vera had been recommended by the innkeeper of the Black Scorpion, and though female physicians were rare in Devendra, Venn was grateful for this woman’s presence. Male physicians could be gentle, but Vera’s shoulders had loosened considerably when the female had walked through the door. The woman had a calming air, and she worked efficiently. She didn’t speak Devendran, but she did speak the trade language. Her name was Jaadah.
She’d made a quick inspection of Vera, then threw an accusatory look at him. Her spine straightened as she turned back to Vera. “Are you safe here?”
Venn respected her all the more for asking.
Vera shook her head, her gaze darting to Venn as she said, “I am now.”
Jaadah’s examination continued, and Venn hung back with his arms folded, his fingers biting into his flesh as Vera’s injuries were revealed. She was badly sunburned, and her wrists were raw from being constantly bound. Cuts and bruises were everywhere, and when Jaadah asked if there was anything else and Vera wincingly removed her shoes . . .
Venn’s jaw cracked.
Her feet were blistered and bloody.
Jaadah’s ministrations were clinical but kind. She handed over an ointment that would soothe Vera’s sunburnt skin, as well as a salve to aid in healing her abused wrists. However, she didn’t apply anything yet, as she suggested a bath to wash away the dirt and grime first.
“I’ll fetch you some clean clothes, and I’ll have the innkeeper arrange the bath for when I return so I can help you,” Jaadah said. “While I’m gone, you should have some food. When was the last time you ate?”
Vera’s uncertain pause was a kick in Venn’s gut. “I . . . I’m not sure.”
