“What?” she mumbled. Her jaw tightened, but instead of grinding her teeth, they snapped shut. Shit, shehadbeen staring. “Shut up.”
He just laughed under his breath.
“Do you think they ran into Warley and Ripley?” Farrah asked, leaning closer. She gave Brela a quick but approving wink in reference to her staring.
Elias shook his head. “Not possible. All four of them returned.”
“But did Warley and Ripley get away?” Brela asked, though she knew it would go unanswered. A moment of quiet lingered at their table.
“So much for having fun tonight,” Elias groaned, finally breaking.
Farrah’s mischievous smirk was back. “We still get the chance,” she whispered before leaning back in her seat. “First one to break buys the next round.”
Brela didn’t need to look up from her mug as the Veil shards thrummed against her body. Rynn’s figure cast a shadow over their table, followed by an even taller one just a second later.
“Pardon the interruption,” Rynn began. “We’re looking for information on any Veil Worshippers in your village.”
“I do apologize, sir,” Farrah replied, her voice a pitch lighter than her normal tone. “There’s no one we know that would dare align with those…cultists.Nor have we seen a mythical beast roaming these forests.”
Valkip pinched his lips to hide a smile but steeled his emotions quickly.
Rynn didn’t succeed in hiding the flinch of his jaw. “My men simply had too much to drink tonight and decided to make a scene.” He took a breath and steadied his stance. “No whispers or talk about supporting Valisea or the shadow god?”
Elias took his turn. “We don’t get much news around Averlyn about that kingdom, but I’m not sure anyone around here would dare speak for Valisea. Those slimy Veil Worshippers know there’s no safe place for them to hide.”
The throats of any other person to say those phrases would have been introduced to Brela’s dagger, but she had trained Farrah and Elias how to drip those words with hate so no one would suspect their cover.
But then there were the two men standing at their table. Rynn’s lips twitched in a smile and even Valkip lightened. Brela did her best to shove down the thoughts of skinning Rynn where he stood and then carving Valkip’s heart out in the next breath.
“Of course,” Rynn replied. “We’re also looking to apprehend the assassin and thief known as the Night Terror. There are rumors that multiple men claim the title.”
“Well, I’d like to find the thief, too” Elias said without flinching. “Robbed me blind in the middle of the night about five years ago.” He leaned back in his seat, puffing his chest as his grin widened. “Shewas the best lay of my life, though, so I can’t really complain.”
Brela snorted mid-drink, spitting beer back into her cup as she held back her laughter. It only threatened to burst out of her louder as she looked up to see Valkip’s lips turn white from holding in his own laughter, his eyes watching her.
She no longer cared about losing the bet Farrah had made earlier.
Rynn surprisingly kept his features calm, even though his cheeks burned bright red. But he wasn’t looking at Brela. “Something funny, ma’am?”
“Very,” Farrah chuckled, setting her drink down. No amount of swallowing could keep the delight out of her voice. “I, too, have met a Night Terror. Didn’t take my money, though.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
The guard studied the table for a moment. “Let me guess, he was the best lay of your life?”
It was Farrah’s turn to lean back, though her gesture was far more delightful as she dragged her teeth over her lower lip, recalling a memory. “Yes,shewas.”
Seductress. Brela nearly spit her drink again—she’d happily buy two rounds for that. Somehow Farrah and Elias were keeping their laughter under control. Valkip’s chest was visibly shaking with restraint, trying not to make eye contact with Brela’s side of the table since she was the only one unable to hide her delight in the game. He was dangerously close to bursting like she had.
And Rynn was nearly blue in the face, even as he took a deep breath and forced it out through his nose. He growled through his teeth as his eyes met Brela’s. “You’ve been making quite a lot of unladylike noise, miss. Care to share your words?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary to boast my conquest with the manandwoman I met as the Night Terror, since you still look flustered that women have also tried to claim the title,” she replied, wiping away a tear. At least her laughter had cleared some of the harshness of her voice. “I’m sure everyone in this inn has met a Night Terror, and no one will give you the same description.”
From the look on Rynn’s face, she was right; he hadn’t gotten a consistent answer all night. There was one good thing about being a famous assassin—there were many who tried to follow in her footsteps. About a quarter of the kills that were credited to her name had been done by someone else, and more often than not they ended up dead. Usually by her hand, but often by another who thought they could take credit for killing the Night Terror. It was an endless cycle.
Rynn turned his glare to Valkip who had calmed his features. “I’m going to check on Merik. Don’t cause any trouble.”
The man looked like he might respond but instead just nodded. Shame, Brela thought. The uptight man was back just as she was starting to forget that his sun-kind had slaughtered her people. But as Rynn walked off, the captain’s shoulders loosened and he gave them a polite smile.
“Thank you for the entertainment,” he said with a nod, his eyes lingering on Brela—curiosity mixed with interest. Perfect. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
