Knuckles rapped softly against the door. Venn hurried to the portal to find Wilf standing there, his broad form dwarfing the rest of the narrow hall.
Venn stepped out of the room and gently closed the door.
“How is she?” Wilf asked, his rumbling voice sounding extra gravely despite its low pitch.
“She’s sleeping.” Fates only knew when she’d last been able to do that with any semblance of peace. Venn ground his teeth and leaned back against the wall. He crossed his arms before he punched something. “Her wrists were rubbed raw. She’s covered in bruises, and she’s exhausted. They barely fed her.” His throat flexed. “She says Clare was treated just as badly.”
Wilf twisted away, his fury palpable.
The muted sound of laughter, eating, and conversation drifted up the stairs. The common room below was filled with men and women enjoying the midday meal, with no knowledge of Vera’s pain or Clare’s plight.
It just made Venn’s desire to hit something grow stronger.
Wilf finally turned back to him, his expression a little more controlled. “I was just coming to tell you that we’re heading out to check the three inns the Rose named. I want you to stay with Vera. I’ll leave two men with you.”
He was grateful Wilf wasn’t ordering him to leave Vera. He wasn’t ready for that—perhaps he never would be. But his brow furrowed as he frowned. “Vera told us Salim’s client wouldn’t arrive for a few days yet. And if the Rose is right, then Salim won’t be in those taverns until then. We probably won’t find Clare tonight.”
Wilf’s eyes darkened. “I won’t stop looking.”
Venn lowered his chin in silent agreement. “I’m worried too, Wilf.”
“I know.”
There was a pause, and Venn expelled a weary breath. “Do you think Bennick is alive?” The question just came out, but by the time Wilf met his stare, he was already answering it himself. “He has to be.” He scrubbed at his face, the heels of his hands pressing against his closed eyes until lights sparked. “We have to find Clare. It will kill Bennick if we don’t.”
“I’ll find her.” There was no doubt in Wilf’s voice.
Silence reigned between them briefly, then Venn said quietly, “Vera didn’t tell me everything. She was too exhausted. But Salim . . . he’s a sadist. He tortured them for no reason.” His knuckles cracked as his hands rolled to fists. “He needs to die.”
Wilf pushed away from the wall. “He will.” His words were a dark growl, and the bloodthirsty wolf that had lived inside Venn since first losing Vera answered with a howl.
Venn re-entered Vera’s room, carrying a bowl of simple chicken broth. Vera stirred, pushing into a seated position by the time he sat on the edge of the bed. Her nostrils flared as she eyed the soup. The hunger in her gaze stabbed him.
She took the bowl before he could offer to feed her. She started sipping the broth, not bothering to take the spoon from his other hand.
“Careful,” he cautioned. “Drink it slowly.”
She pulled the rim of the bowl back from her lips, her throat working as she swallowed.
His grip on the useless spoon tightened as he studied her. He couldn’t help but feel a bit like the redundant utensil. Every mark on her body was unforgivable, and he blamed himself for not preventing her capture in the first place.
Vera took another sip, and Venn was gratified to see that some of the redness had left her eyes. The sleep—short as it was—had done her good.
“Why is the Rose here?” Vera asked.
He was a little surprised she hadn’t asked sooner. His shoulders bunched as he braced himself. “During the ambush, he recognized some of the men. He’s hired Salim before, and he was our best way to track you. Serene made a deal with him.”
Her gaze became instantly alert. “What does he gain?”
There was no way to temper the truth, so he simply stated it: “His freedom.”
Vera’s breathing thinned and she looked away.
He was desperate to know her thoughts, but he didn’t want to pry.
Finally, she looked back at him, and he was surprised—and impressed—with the determination steeling her eyes. “Saving Clare is all that matters.”
“We’ll catch him again,” he told her. “I promise you, the Rose will stand trial for his crimes.”
