“It’s perfect,” Seph mutters to herself.
I eye her sidelong, noticing the hint of a smile on her face as she moves. Almost like she knows more than she’s letting on . . . and might even have something to do with this fracas plaguing the streets of her homeland.
When a group of Bronzes tears into the street in front of us, we freeze to let them pass, only for one of the men to shout, “Bloodsucker! There!” and point directly at me a hundred feet away.
Seems my hood became askew while we ran, and my alabaster skin shone in the dark night like a spotlight.
The clunky, armored soldiers barrel toward us.
Arrows flit through the sky.
“Fuck,” I growl, and raise a wall of shadows around us, batting the arrows aside as we crouch behind the wall.
Once the arrows stop coming, we take off down the alley we came through.
“Different route!” Sephania yells, tugging her mother’s arm.
The older woman can’t run nearly as fast as we need to. We won’t get far, so I stop us at the end of the alley and say, “Better idea.”
I create a small portal for us to cross into, telling Sephania, “Guide us where you need to go. Tell me.”
“South. The Firehold, Skar!”
I grit my teeth and nod. I’m not surprised, but I’m disappointed. I should have figured that was her destination—Lukain Mortis’ prior slave den.
The soldiers wheel into the alley and crouch to shoot more arrows at us.
My shadow finishes, I push Jinneth roughly in the back, and we catapult into the wall, vanishing from sight.
We emerge a few minutes later, both women wobbly and whining, but otherwise unscathed.
With a heavy sigh, I stop the trembling in my hand that’s suddenly started. “Seems me coming as an escort might have presented more of an issue than help, love.”
Sephania slaps me lightly on the back. “Nonsense. Come on, you handsome devil.” She winks at me, walks a few steps forward, and lifts the grate that leads down into the Firehold.
Once we’ve descended, a group of hip-high whelps surrounds us at the bottom, with sticks and makeshift swords to ward us off.
I frown. “This is what has become of the Grimsons?”
Sephania chuckles, hiding me in the shadows behind them, and waits for her ally Antones to arrive. When he does, Seph says it’s in my best interest to stay behind for now. The deep glare from Antones confirms that, so I do.
At least I know she’s relatively safe in here. Also, she can take care of herself, and surely she could defeat anyone in this dank dungeon that would try to harm her.
A few minutes later, Sephania comes hurrying back. “I’ve just made the introductions between my mother and her old friend. But he says we’ll need silver if we are to try and do this. Can you help, love?”
I sigh. “From escort to fetch-it boy. I’ll go see Vanison. Youdo notleave here, understand?”
Sephania salutes. “I wouldn’t think of it, Master.”
I roll my eyes and climb the ladder out of the Firehold.
I move much faster and sneakier alone on the surface, and it isn’t long before I’m approaching the underground hideout of Vanison Shirin, our resident silversmith.
I’ve bounced from shadow to shadow through the wretched city, making sure to stay unnoticed. There’s just one more alley for me to traverse until I can make my way down into the sewers.
I poke my head out from the alley—
And a sharp blade meets the soft underside of my chin, pulling me up short.
