Slaide sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait here while I fetch Phillip?”
Her face must have said exactly what she intended it to.Absolutely not.
“Fine. Let’s go. But I’m warning you: keep your mouth shut. Do not speak unless spoken to. These are my people, but they’re only my people because of trust. Trust that was hard earned, and I have no doubt easily broken. Understood?”
She nodded and Slaide spun on his heel, striding deeper into the forest.
She was unfortunately unprepared to see the makeshift encampment they walked up on, and a surprised gasp escaped her lips. Slaide whirled on her, but before he could tell her to be silent, she was looking past him, gripping her locket.
Behind Slaide stood four masked men, looking ready for a fight.
Slaide turned, releasing a relieved-sounding breath when he noticed who awaited them.
“Hazel, this is my crew,” he explained, gesturing to the four men behind him. “Some of them, anyway. That’s Ruin. To his right are Malice, Havoc, and Fury. Vex and Venom are… scouting, I’d imagine.”
The one he’d called Ruin nodded.
Slaide introduced the men nonchalantly, as though it were normal to have such names. Hazel stared without blinking at the masked bandits before her, trying to remind herself that the people they murdered were the evil ones, not them… right? Easier said than done.
Despite their masked faces betraying nothing, their postures—crossed arms and hands on weapons—told her they weren’t any happier to have an uninvited guest than she was to be there.
Slaide moved about, gathering supplies as though he owned the place. Perhaps he did. Havoc and Malice never took their eyes off her, eyeing her feline friend suspiciously.
Ruin followed Slaide around the encampment, berating him for bringing her there. He spoke as if she wasn’t standing just paces from them.
“What are you thinking? Bringing her here? We just moved! Are you trying to bring the Raven Blade down on us again?” he rattled.
Slaide mostly ignored him, much to Ruin’s chagrin. “If it bothers you so much, pretend she’s not here. We aren’t staying, anyway.”
“Damn right you’re not. You should’ve sent word, Venge. You’ve put this entire operation in jeopardy,” Ruin spat.
Slaide appeared to have had enough, as he got into Ruin’s face then, jabbing his index finger into the man’s chest. “She is the operation, Ruin. What don’t you get? It’s her.” They both looked at Hazel then.
“Anyway,” Slaide began, “we’ll be out of your hair now. Thanks for bringing Phillip.”
“Yeah, whatever. Bastard gave me a Hel of a time getting here. You owe me.”
They clasped forearms in what Hazel could only guess was some kind of brotherly handshake.
Slaide took Phillip’s reins then, having packed his saddlebags full, and motioned for Hazel to hop up.
He aided her into the saddle, grabbing marginally less of her ass than the first time. After joining her, they left the encampment behind with little fanfare. Something told Hazel the bond between those men was tenuous at best.
They rode in silence for a while before Hazel spoke. “So, Venge, is it?” She tried to hide the smile in her voice.
He growled behind her, somewhere between pissed and annoyed. “Eavesdropping is going to get you killed, little witch.”
She ignored that. “Is it short for something?”
Slaide said nothing for a beat, the only sound between them the thudding of Phillip’s heavy footfalls on the loamy forest floor.
“Vengeance,” he said at last. “It’s short for Vengeance.”
Vengeance. Ruin. Malice. Vex. Fury. Venom. Well, if they wanted to come off as dark, broody monsters, they nailed it on the naming. She found herself wondering what their real names were. An ill-timed chuckle escaped her as she imagined Ruin’s not-so-scary real name being Terrence. Or William.
As Slaide bristled, she realized her mistake. “Ah, I wasn’t—that laugh wasn’t at you.”
“I don’t particularly care.”
