Yet the moment the door closed, leaving Rilla and Kurtz alone in the hallway, Kurtz slipped his hand around her waist, she grabbed his shoulders, and their lips met with a rush of heat.
Everything else seemed to vanish—the faint creak of the old wooden floors, the muted notes of Cole’s lute inside the room—all swallowed by the pull between them.
“What say we steal away, for memory’s sake?” Rilla whispered, jingling the keys on her belt. “Plenty of empty rooms today.”
Kurtz hummed and deepened the kiss. He hadn’t been with a woman since Wintara—almost four blasted months ago. Before the war. Before the Captain’s Row.
Before all the shame.
Well, why not? He and Rilla had been here before. They were old friends. He pulled her closer and let his thoughts buzz with the possibility of what might come next, the thought of her soft skin, the promise of more.
Dazzling white light bloomed in the corner of his vision. Kurtz pulled back so sharply Rilla yelped. His gaze darted to the top of the stairwell. A golden-haired figure stood there, radiating light. His regal features, sharp and serene, and a pair of bright blue eyes locked onto Kurtz with an intense authority that sent a chill down his spine and tightened his chest.
“Did you see someone?” Rilla asked.
Oh, aye. Nothing she could see, but Kurtz knew that the watcher standing in the Veil not only knew Kurtz’s motives, he’d come for a reason.
His heart pounded, not from kissing Rilla, but from the unmistakable feeling that whatever decision he’d been about to make had been the wrong one. Kurtz had seen this watcher years ago—had ignored him to his own peril. The creature’s presence was a warning, one Kurtz would not ignore. Not this time.
Never again.
“Kurtz?”
Rilla’s confused voice broke through his thoughts, but Kurtz was already fumbling with the latch on the door of his room, a bitter taste rising in his throat.
“Sorry, Rilla. I just remembered something I’ve got to do, eh?”
With that, he slipped into the room and fell face-first onto his bed.
“Short drink,” Cole said.
“Tired.” Kurtz took a few breaths to calm his racing heart, then reached for Eagan.
Kurtz Chazir, he bloodvoiced.
What is wrong? Eagan’s voice in Kurtz’s mind brought instant calm. The man was using his magical ability to affect Kurtz’s emotions even from such a distance.
What makes you ask that? Kurtz thought.
I can sense your agitation. Did something happen?
Kurtz fought back the urge to laugh. A watcher. The same one from Allowntown.
Where did you see it?
Out in the stairwell of the Ivory Spit.
Did it say anything?
Didn’t need to. Kurtz’s hands were shaking, so he squeezed them into fists. I was…with someone.
A woman?
Cole started playing a new song, a melancholy tune that fit Kurtz’s mood. He shot a glance at the lad, but he was lost in his music. This watcher didn’t come to Reshon Gate, Kurtz voiced. And not for me, anyway.
To what are you referring? Eagan asked.
I told you I saw a different watcher the day the procession was attacked, standing beside the prince, Kurtz thought. But none came about the prostitutes and the wagons. None warned me of the trouble that ended with the Captain’s Row. So, why now?
