“I’ll send him home tomorrow,” Advocate Nottle said. “I don’t think it wise for him to linger. You’ve still got your murder face on every time you see him, to start with.”
Rowan couldn’t argue that.
“And frankly, the rest of your family isn’t much better. Even the teenage girls look at him with murder in their eyes. It’s why he’s avoiding being alone with any of you.”
Huh. So the man did have some semblance of survival instincts? Surprising. Also a pity, as Rowan would love to get him alone. Granted, it would be a very short chat.
Milo stepped free but still addressed Rowan. “I want to start the secondary ward today. With eight towers, it’s going to take me more than a week, so I might as well get started while I still have Bennet to help. Bennet, if you start on this tower, I’ll take the one there”—he pointed to the tower farther down along the coastline—“and we can tag team.”
“I’m fine with that.”
Rowan felt like it was a smart decision, as it was barely midafternoon now. Plenty of light left. The barrier was still up as well, leaving Milo and Nottle safe to work.
“Dinner?”
Milo nodded. “Yup, see you then.”
Pleased by all of this progress, Rowan went back to patrolling.
Rowan had a few minor things to deal with, including one attempt to sneak booze on patrol, which he immediately shut down and then fined the guard for. Rowan got it, he did. Nothing was exciting about patrolling. Rather, if something excitinghappened, it usually meant shit had hit the ceiling. Still. It was a guard’s job to pay attention. If they were drunk off their ass, they wouldn’t be able to respond if something actually did happen. And this was the worst time of year to make such a foolish mistake.
Dealing with the situation took far too long, and he finally returned to the fortress halfway through the dinner hour. When he entered the dining hall, his family was already there, plus Nottle.
But no Milo.
He stopped dead halfway to the table, an alarm ringing in the back of his head. His Milo? Miss a meal? Or even be late for one? This didn’t look right. To Raina, he demanded, “Milo?”
“Oh! We thought he was with you.” At Rowan’s fierce tone, Raina now looked alarmed as well. “I’ve never seen him be late for a meal.”
Perhaps being a guard captain had twisted his way of thinking, but Rowan’s mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. His eyes snapped to Nottle. “Latimer?”
“Uh, well, I haven’t seen him most of the day. As you saw earlier, I was helping Milo.” Bennet sat up straighter, ginger brows drawing into a line as he frowned in growing alarm. “Surely he’s got the good sense to leave Milo alone?”
Rowan had no faith in Andrew’s reasoning. Not one bit. “Advocate Nottle, cast a seeking spell.”
“Ah, now, that’s a good idea. It’ll prove handily where Milo is.” Nottle stood so he could access the wand hanging from his waist, then cast the spell before putting the wand flat on his palm, letting it work much like a compass. It spun sharply three times, orienting, then bounced a bit, swaying back and forth.
Rowan obviously couldn’t read what all that meant, but the way Nottle’s eyes shot wide didn’t herald anything good. “What?!”
The wand finally stopped, pointing due south. Nottle swallowed hard before his eyes met Rowan’s, and he was already moving, rounding the corner of the table. “He’s not here. He’s not anywhere near here. He’s south of here, I think on the road.”
That was all Rowan needed to know. He didn’t entertain the idea of Milo having left of his own accord, not for even a second. He knew that wasn’t the case. Milo had done too much to anchor his life here, had made promises to Rowan; he wouldn’t have left. There was only one possibility to explain why Milo wasn’t here: That bastard had Milo and was trying to abscond with him before anyone else could figure it out.
Like hell would Rowan just let that happen.
“Girls, stay here,” Raina ordered, already on her feet and moving. “Troy, rally the guard, inform everyone we’re going after Milo.”
“On it.” Troy left the room in a dead sprint.
Riley, not even waiting, headed straight for the door. For all that he and Riley often butted heads, Rowan knew his sister would absolutely have his back. He turned on a heel and then sprinted out the door, calling out orders to have horses saddlednow. He only ducked into his bedroom long enough to grab Milo’s cloak and his little satchel of emergency potions, then he sprinted for the stables.
Perhaps it wasn’t vital to have those things, but Rowan couldn’t imagine Milo going down easily. He was such a fighter; unless Andrew had ambushed him, Milo would have fought back. He might be hurt, and Rowan wanted the ability to help him on the spot. The two minutes it took to grab the cloak and satchel might pay off in the long run.
Although gods help this bastard if he had hurt Milo. The idea of his lover being harmed made Rowan’s blood boil. He vowed to exact vengeance for every single bruise.
Riley, Troy, Ruben, and Raina were already mounted, ready to go, and armed to the gills. Advocate Nottle was as well, his face set in a grim line. The second Rowan was in Stan’s saddle, the group turned and raced off, hooves thunderous on the hard-packed road. Bennet was in the lead to help guide them, and Rowan prayed. He prayed like never before.
Please, please let Milo not be too far ahead. Let them catch up.
