She waited for her words to sink in, but no one moved. “I said, I’m the distraction. Cole has taken Divinity, he’s stronger than you can imagine. You have to get to Wraith. Now. Cole’s likely waiting just outside, I don’t know how long before he makes a move.”
Miles locked eyes with someone behind her and jerked his head quickly. Then he motioned for Sera to follow. “Come on, then, brown-eyes. Wraith is this way.”
“Wait.” She hesitated, then pushed through the fear to continue, “I… I’ve delivered his warning. But Cole has threatened my friend and I have to make sure he’s okay. And I have to meet Kieran.”
He no longer resembled the Miles she knew, his face stoic and serious. “I can’t show up without you, but if you plead your case then we can possibly swing some help your way.” He waited for her to start walking and, fearing she had no choice, Sera obeyed.
—
She was in front of Wraith in minutes, standing outside one of the smaller buildings. Miles explained the situation while she twirled her fingers. She didn’t have time for this. Cole would know she betrayed him any minute and if he wasn’t caught, then he would flee to signal Seth’s death. Her only chance was that Cole never got a chance to give that signal. Which gave her till the following morning to get Seth. But that only worked if Cole was occupied fighting Wraith.
Wraith listened, nodding along. He was smoking, casually taking drags of a cigarette. There was something off about him, something almost relaxed in his posture. She couldn’t name exactly what she was looking at, but for some reason the sight of him didn’t fill her with fear. Perhaps because he was in his home the ominous energy wasn’t as potent.
“She’s got a friend who needs rescuing. Not sure what can be done there, but she wants to go find him,” Miles finished, and his posture was more relaxed than she thought the situation called for, though the seriousness remained on his face.
“Jones will get every eye on the perimeter. If Cole is in Demon Row, we’ll find him before he can get ten feet. Lady may have given us the advantage we needed, if he’s high on Divinity.”
Wraith gestured over his shoulder, and a servant appeared at his side, leaning so Wraith could whisper and then disappearing. Sera held her breath, then Wraith motioned for Sera to step forward.
“I’ve sent for some clothes,” he said, voice full of gravel. “I did some reading on the Charm and seems you were right, it would have hid intent from me. Good to know it's in pieces.”
“That’s good. Happy to help.” She took a deep breath, her words growing clumsy.
“For warning me about Cole, you can leave and save your friend.” Relief loosened every muscle she had been clenching. He took another drag and blew the smoke above his head. “For getting me the Charm, you can take Miles.”
Sera glanced over and some of that cheeky grin returned.
“She can take me however she likes.”
Wraith chuckled, flicking the cigarette down and squashing it with his boot. “You’ll not make the same mistakes as Cole, Miles. This woman has earned protection, so you’ll do what she says and not a thing more, get me?”
Miles crossed his arms. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Just making sure we’re on the same page. You’re one of my best mercenaries, hate to lose you because you got carried away.”
Miles glared, and Sera sensed that what she was seeing was, in part, for show. She had played to the crowd enough to catch the signs. “Alright, let’s get this over with. Where to, brown-eyes?”
Chapter Fifteen
Kieranwasoutofbreath and a bead of sweat ran down his cheek—which was a feat for a Winter Fae. His sword was reduced to a handle and the jagged shard that remained of the blade. He relied on agility and quick thinking to avoid taking damage, but the assassin was relentless. Never seemed to fatigue or succumb to injury, and his skill at combat was remarkable, even without the enhancement. But the assassin had lost a lot of blood. He had to be unconscious soon.
Kieran peered around a corner. He had bought himself a few seconds with the well-timed hit that had sacrificed his blade. The spray of fragmented metal had caused the assassin to shield his eyes and turn, crying out when shrapnel hit his face.
The assassin recovered, but he was slowing. Kieran’s strategy was to outlast, but that may have been a stretch given that not only was the heat in this building starting to generate some lag in his movements, but the iron all around him—nails and screws and fasteners—had skipped the headache and settled straightinto nausea. Probably not helped by the exertion, but Kieran was beginning to wonder if he might need a new plan.
He had been landing as many precise cuts as he could, forcing more and more blood from various wounds, until not even Divinity could combat the loss of so much vital fluid. Or, so he hoped. There were a couple reported instances of Divinity healing the user, but that was only after the initial injection while the drug took hold. So far, nothing suggested those healing capabilities lasted beyond the first ten minutes, the ten minutes that was just as likely to kill the user.
As the hall grew quiet, one of the doors opened. A tenant peeked out.
Shit.
A woman shuffled from her apartment, drawing the assassin’s attention. A shadow burst into concrete shape behind her, consuming her body as the assassin charged.
Kieran huffed.Damn it.
Unable to remain hidden, he chased, taking advantage of the distraction to drive the remainder of his blade into the man’s back. As the assassin cried out, Kieran side-stepped flailing limbs and pushed the woman back inside. She stared up at him with large, fearful eyes.
“Lock the door,” he ordered, before closing her inside.
