She’d been around Vade long enough to know when he was summoning his power. His fingers twitched in a barely noticeable movement at his sides, but she could feel the air churning. The drunken dwarves didn’t seem to notice.
“Move,” Vade repeated, his voice deeper.
When the men didn’t comply, Vade raised one hand, showing them the shadows peeking out of his fingertips.
Their eyes blew wide. “Death’s Shadow . . .” one of them whispered. They shot up from their chairs and bumped into the table, snatching their mugs before fleeing.
Vade took the chair with a clear view of the door, and Orelia took the seat across from him, hooking the straps of her pack on the chair back. “Even in this backwater place, people know you,” she said, setting Bute’s jar on the table.
Vade scanned the room, one hand gripping the hilt of his largest knife. “Last time I was here, I may have made a mess of the stables and reduced them to cinders. Seems they haven’t forgotten.”
Laughter rang out from the middle of the room, and a dwarven woman fell out of her chair, taking a human down with her. The crowd erupted, and she couldn’t tell if they were happy or angry, but they were all incredibly drunk.
“Why ruin the stables?” she asked. Probably some power move to make others more afraid of him than they already were.
Vade’s shoulders relaxed, and he seemed to finally take a breath. “It was when I first became executioner. Back when I was bloodthirsty and a bit less . . .discreet.”
She braced herself for a viciously violent retelling.
“A couple of drunks were fighting out back and I stood by, watching the show. When they got tired of swinging at one another, they grabbed a woman walking by and tried to take her coin. I killed them because it was fun, and I wanted her money.”
Of course he did.Orelia bit backher displeasure.
“But also because I could tell what else they intended to do to that woman had I not stepped in.”
She blinked her surprise, knowing exactly what he meant. “I thought you would have just taken her coin and left.”
He gave her a disapproving side-eye, then continued with his story. “A ren had seen what I’d done and came after me. We tussled for a while. I toyed with him, letting him think he had a chance at winning, but when he ran off, I chased him down into the barn. When I tackled him, we rolled into the wall and a torch fell off its hook and onto the hay bales. I tried to snuff out the fire with my shadows, but the stable hands wanted in on the action too and interrupted me. Before I could kill them all, the barn was ablaze.”
She felt a pang of guilt for assuming he’d done it on purpose. “I bet that woman was thankful you were there, though. Even if you did take her money.”
“It wasn’t much. Everyone is poor in this shit town.” Vade reached into his pocket. “I’ll get us some ales.” He was about to get up when his eyes latched onto something over her shoulder.
The king’s executioner paled.
Orelia turned to see the crowd had gone quiet. A group of fae men in dark cloaks covering white and gray furs filed in through the door, weapons strapped to their back and ready in their hands. Even without their heavy presence filling the room, same as the kind that radiated off Vade, she still would have known they were fae.
The left sides of their faces were tattooed in black lines and symbols, their hair pulled tight into a topknot showing off the sides of their heads that had been shaved to the scalp. Typical features of fae,according to Morton’s books. Once they were all inside, the shortest one in front looked directly at their table.
They cut through the crowd in a single-file line. How the men weren’t suffocating under the thick furs, she had no idea. Each of them wore a severe expression, eyes dark as night, and skin in varying shades from moon white to umber. Their pointed ears were decorated in silver rings, and scars littered their faces and hands. None of them looked at her.
The entirety of their focus was on Vade.
When the group reached their table, the shortest one spoke. “So, it’s true. Death’s Shadow is the chieftain’s disgraced son after all.”
Vade had gone rigid. “Never thought I’d have to see you again, Balor. To what do I owe the displeasure?” The last word came out through his teeth.
Balor’s mouth was hidden under an unkempt black mustache and beard, but his eyes told her he was sneering. “Figured someone would have killed ya bastard ass by now, but here ya are, alive n’ well.”
The others shifted behind Balor, wearing the same look of disgust that came from their leader. Orelia noticed the pins fastening their cloaks were all the same. A simple copper triangle pointing at their throats.
“Still here,” Vade said with his trademark cocky grin. He lazily tapped his fingers on the table, but a quick glance at his other hand revealed a white-knuckled grip on his largest dagger.
“Aye. Still fuckin’ here,” Balor seethed. “Though you don’t deserve to be after what you done.” The fae’s barbed focus shifted toOrelia, and she shrunk in her seat. He looked her up and down with indifference. When his nostrils flared, he leaned forward slightly. A sinister smile crossed what little she could see of his mouth.
Vade draped his arm around her shoulder. She tried not to look surprised but knew it didn’t work as devious smiles spread on the other’s faces in succession.
“Interesting . . .” Balor drawled.
