Just when I feel like I’m on the brink of screaming, Eacon veers off to the right and pushes through a set of swinging double doors. Like a pup chasing after its master, I lumber in after her, and I’m immediately hit with a refreshing blast of cold and the smell of something floral and pleasant. Blissful quiet sneaks around with the dim lighting of the place, and I feel instantly soothed and all at once capable of wrangling my wayward faculties.
Swallowing down a ragged breath, I try to quiet my inhales and exhales, hoping my heart will quickly follow suit. I don’t know what to think or how to feel about what just happened. I’m one of the most lethal things to come out of Tilleo’s ludere, and yet I was practically bested by a small crowd and a bunch of loud noises. The Scorpions have convinced themselves that I’m ruthless and ferocious enough to be one of them, but I doubt they’d feel the same way if they were here to witness the freakout I’m on the verge of experiencing.
“Eacon!” a rich, full-bodied, feminine voice calls out with relief. “We were worryin you would’na get here in time,” a scarred, curvy fae declares with a thick accent as she pushes through a set of curtains and rushes into the dark, quiet space.
Blonde curls are piled on the top of her head and held in place by a colorful scarf that’s wrapped all about as though it can’t decide if it’s taming the mess or submitting to it. One green eye fixes on Eacon with both exhilaration and apprehension, while the other eye seems to wander, all color bleached from the orb, leaving it a stark milky white. I suspect the scar that runs from her temple through said eye and up into her hairline is to blame, and I try not to stare at it, even though that’s all I want to do. The female’s arms are a quilt of slashes and burns as she lifts them and pulls Eacon into a fierce embrace.
“Tyvanna suckered in tha First Mate, but tha Master is gettin’ impatient. Most floaters stay for a day or two as a kindness to tha sailors, but this rank fuck don’t give a toss. Knowin’ what we know about him though, I ain’t all that surprised.”
“I owe Ty then, Rink,” Eacon offers as she rubs the voluptuous fae’s back, pulling away to look at her.
“We both do,” Rink agrees warmly as she takes Eacon in like she’s the first burst of sunlight on a cold winter morning.
“I got here as fast as I could,” Eacon reassures the other female, and Rink’s smile grows so wide it looks as though it will split her face in half.
“We’re gonna get him, ain’t we, Eacs?” she asks, but it feels more like an eager declaration than a question.
“He was dead the moment he came back here,” Eacon assures her smoothly, and the look in both of their eyes is one I know well.
Death and pain are about to rain down on this place, and the vicious fae in front of me are going to enjoy every bloody moment of it. Just like that, I’m anchored. All the trepidation and tension strumming through me is forgotten. I don’t have the first clue about adapting seamlessly in a crowd, but I do know death and pain. If they’re leading the way, I’ll be right at home.
“And who’s this little poppet?” Rink asks, having just noticed me standing in the entryway.
“Rink, this is Auset. Auset, Rink. She’s like us,” Eacon informs the other fae, and I grow even more curious about Rink and her story.
“Ahh, always noice to meet kin,” Rink declares, and then she’s wrapping me up in a hug so tight that even if I wanted to stop her, I couldn’t.
My arms are locked down by my side, Rink’s vise-like grip so solid that if she decided to squeeze me to death, I have no doubt that I’d be done for. I don’t even have time to panic over her touching me before Rink lets me go and steps back to take me in.
“You’ll get used to those with time, Poppet,” Rink assures me. “I’d take it slow out of respect as I can sees you’re fresh out the pit, but with our kind, it’s best to shock the system before the ol’ instincts kick in and ruin it for us. Ya didn’t stab me, and I know how hard it was not to. You’re strong, and you’re gonna be just foine.”
I nod, a little surprised by how much sense her explanation just made, and Rink’s buxom lips split into another grin that seems to have no end in sight.
“Where’d you catch this beauty?” Rink asks Eacon, jutting her chin in my direction.
“Didn’t. The brothers did,” Eacon answers, and I don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she does or the way Rink’s face lights up even more.
She slaps her leg with amusement, the sound echoing in the small space thanks to her leathers amplifying it. “’Bout time those three saw past their own peckers and ego, and settled in,” Rink declares, and a laugh bursts out into the air.
I bring a hand to my mouth, surprised the sound is coming from me, and both Eacon and Rink grin as though the most miraculous thing just happened. I laugh, usually in a mocking or scornful kind of way, but what just tore out of me was something rare and unusual altogether.
“Oh yeah, you’re going to be just foine, Poppet.”
“Did Tyvanna deal with the First Mate yet, or do we need to head to her place before we go?” Eacon asks, her countenance instantly shifting from tender and blithe to dangerous honed killer.
I really like her.
“Ty had the First Mate’s head off his shoulders before he could get his other head outta his shorts for her. We’re good to go aboard straight away,” Rink confirms. “The dock master and nearby vessels already ken who’s prowling about. They don’t want no taste of our cookin’ this eve. We’ll have no trouble about, not even if you wanna take your sweet time with the filth, and I truly hope ya do. Yaren was a light. Let that fucker feel what light can do when ya get too close. Let him melt with it.”
The scars on Rink’s body make her look even more formidable as she speaks of pain like it’s dessert. I don’t know how Eacon and Rink found Yaren’s killer, and I don’t care because I suddenly need this like they do. I didn’t know Yaren, and I’ve never felt the light that Eacon and Rink speak of, but justice sounds like decadent perfection right now. I tasted it that night in Tilleo’s wine cellar when I ended Crit and again when I ripped Gartox’s throat out with my teeth. The promise of more retribution has me salivating, and I have to admit that I could get used to this. Hunting because I want to, because I can see the good that will sprout by removing some of the bad, is a heady thing.
“You ready?” Eacon asks, and I realize both she and Rink are watching me.
Rink is donning weapons that she wasn’t wearing earlier. I have no idea when she strapped a small arsenal on, but I’m impressed nonetheless.
“If this doesn’t feel right, you can wait here until we’re done,” Eacon kindly offers, but I don’t need to consider it.
“Ready,” I confirm, not needing to debate or ponder any more than I already have.
