Chapter 16
“Love is the drink of poets and the food for fools. That doesn’t stop us from craving the meat and drink for our souls.”
- Unknown
Iwokeup alone and cold. No warm body pressed against mine or arms holding me desperately close, and no note. I swallowed back my disappointment and braced myself for heartache. We had made no promises to each other beyond exclusivity, and that was only for the oil. Offering him my body hadn’t sealed any romantic contract between us. There were enough street whores to warn me of the shallow commitment created during erotic transaction.
My muscles screamed when I moved. The line of fire rolling from ass to shoulders did little to assure a happier day. My bathtub beckoned. The healing salts Olivia made for me would at least solve my physical pain. A hot tea and a bit of tears would take care of the emotional. I grabbed a change of clothing and headed for a nice soak.
In the bathroom, I started the water and poured the salts in with a liberal hand. As I slid into the bath, I groaned as hot water surged around me. Time was lost while I luxuriated in a good soak. My concerns floated away along wafts of steam. I don’t know how long I bathed, but my fingers and toes were wrinklier than an old man’s when I finally emerged.
My mind already on a bracing cup of tea, I dressed quickly and headed for the stairs. A soft click froze me midstep.
Someone was downstairs.
Not willing to take any chances, I snuck back into my bedroom and grabbed the knife Oss gave me for my birthday last year. My fingers turned white as I struggled to keep my hold with a sweaty palm. I’d never been much of a fighter. Unlike Oss, I didn’t relish a good round of bloodletting. I preferred to outthink my opponent and slip away before they had a chance to hurt me. However, in my own home I would willingly gut someone who came to harm me or my life’s work.
Each step brought me closer to the intruder. Bumps tracked across my chilled skin caused by both the cool air and my own unease. It might be Justin, it might not be. If my fingers had been made from metal, they would’ve rattled like a tambourine.
A shape stepped from the shadows, and my heart damn near stopped.
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your street senses.” Amusement laced Oss’s voice, but the approving expression on his face kept me from stabbing him anyway.
My shoulders drained of tension. “You scared me. I thought you might be an intruder.”
“Have you ever had anyone break in?” Oss frowned.
“No. But that’s always a concern around here.” Thieves ran rampant in the city. I should know. I used to be one. “Also, the magistrate said he would impound my building if I didn’t get Justin to back off his child’s investigation. I don’t trust him not to send his goons over.”
“Idiots.”
“Yeah.” I had no energy to defend the brainless.
I cleared my throat. “H-have you seen Justin?”
“He and Thorne left an hour ago. I figured you were in your bath, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “You don’t have to make it sound like I was conducting onanism. I was just soaking.”
“Shame. You could use a little self-abuse to relieve your tension.”
“Idiot. Did he say where he was going?” That was a perfectly reasonable question. Not suspicious of my lover at all.
“Lear said he was going to follow a lead, but he didn’t want to wake you.”
“He might be going to the restaurant that girl was cooking at. I thought he was going to ask you about who owned it first.”
“I told him.”
“You didn’t have to look it up?”
“Nope. They have the best breakfast plate in town, and they always gave Key handlers a cut rate. Henrik Vahagn owns that one and two more. I hear he’s expanded to a few other cities, too, but no one I know has been to them to confirm.”
“Huh. If he is involved, it would make sense that he could get away with it. He is one of the richest men in Keys who isn’t a lord.” Every thief knew who held the money.
“He is,” Oss agreed.
We stood there contemplating all the terrible directions things could go.
