Rakos has never wanted to gut someone so badly. Fury threatens his tenuous control. The only thing keeping the blade outside instead of inside the woman’s throat is Rakos’s memory of the waystation fight. Violence disturbs Bell, and Rakos doesn’t want to traumatize him more than necessary.
He shouldn’t be this invested in Bell’s well-being. But he can’t pretend he isn’t.
Hauling the struggling, swearing blood mage to her feet, Rakos meets Bell’s shocked hazel eyes. “Give me a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”
Bell scrambles to his feet. “What are you doing?”
The blood mage suddenly stops struggling. Magic dissipating, she hisses out an accusation: “Tem.”
Fuck. Rakos shakes her and tosses another grin at Bell. “I’ll be right back,” he promises without answering Bell’s question.
Then he drags the blood mage deeper into the alley.
“What were you going to do to him?” Rakos asks as he looks around. There aren’t any convenient piles of crates or trash, so he’ll just have to rely on distance and darkness for concealment. He should have told Bell not to look.
The blood mage changes her tune as they get farther down the alley. “I’m not your enemy,” she says. “I’ve heard of you. Do you need scalestone contacts? I can help.”
Rakos shoves her face-forward against the wall. “Not what I asked. But I don’t think I want to know anyway.”
He punches the dagger through her throat, up into her skull.
Bone crunches, and blood paints the grimy bricks. Rakos holds her in place until the geyser of blood slows to a gurgle, then drops her body to the side. He wipes the dagger clean on the back of her robe. Wiping his hands off isn’t quite as effective, but good enough.
Without a second thought, he abandons the corpse and rushes back to Bell’s side.
Bell is right where Rakos left him, clutching his blinkmink and trembling. There’s a sick pallor to his face again, and Rakos hates seeing him like this. Hates the mage who did this to him.
Hates himself even more for allowing it to happen.
Had he stayed up with Bell, this wouldn’t have happened. Rakos knew Bell needed help, and he denied him. Is Bell in danger with Rakos? Yes. But he’s in danger on his own too, and Rakos can’t trust anyone else to protect him.
Rakos kneels in front of Bell, reaching for his face. He switches to his left hand when he realizes how much blood stains his right, so he can brush Bell’s hair back with clean fingers. “You all right, minstrel?”
Bell’s lip trembles. “You’re back. Why are you back?”
“Because I left something very important, and I didn’t realize it until now.”
“What was it?” Bell asks.
“You,” Rakos answers simply.
There. Some of the color flushes back into Bell’s face. “I don’t understand.”
Rakos drags his hand away because he’s too tempted to keep touching. “I changed my mind. We’ll travel together to Parsk, then I’ll take you back to Silaise. I realized I need you, and I think you need me too.”
Bell stops breathing for a moment. “But what if I slow you down?” He twists his hands together, hesitant despite the relief in his eyes. “You were right. I get tired too easily, and I’m useless when my head hurts. I’m a liability.”
“I thought about all that. Gave it some careful fucking consideration as I walked across town looking for you.” Rakos pushes back his own still-damp hair. “I have a habit of rushing into things like an idiot. Maybe I could use slowing down. If you need a day off, we’ll take a day off. If you can’t ride the whole way, we’ll rent caravan passage. Whatever it takes, I want you to come with me.”
Bell bites his lip. “Oh.”
A new worry surfaces. “That is, if you want to go with me. Parsk is a bit of a detour on the way to Silaise, but once we get there, I know a shortcut.” Dragonflight is far faster than caravan travel. But Rakos can’t reassure Bell of that detail.
“I don’t even remember where Parsk is. That’s not the issue, I just can’t believe—yes.” Bell clenches his fists in his sleeves. “Yes, I want to travel with you. If that’s all right.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Rakos says. “But we should probably get off the street now. How are you feeling? Are you good to walk?”
Bell pushes himself to his feet. Rakos is ready to lend a hand, but Bell stands fine on his own.
