Only then do I realize the safehouse I’d just crashed inside isn’t empty.
I turn and get a good look at just how many people are inside the . . .
“Is this a fucking bar?” I ask, flabbergasted.
The bartender looks at me with a raised brow. He’s dressed in a strange outfit, nothing like Dross, so I’m not sure if he’s a player or not. I assume a player wouldn’t be running a bar. “Aye. And a restaurant,” he answers me. “What’re you having?”
I look from him to the other strange . . . people sitting around the large room. Some of them look like other players, but others . . . I’m not sure they’re human. “Uh . . .”
“Looks like the lady needs some healing,” a man sitting at the bar says. He looks like a player, his clothing similar to mine and Vesper’s. “Did you try to kill her?”
“What? No!” I growl. The man’s eyes shoot up in surprise. “I’m trying to save her. Is there something to heal her with?”
The bartender nods. “Safehouses enable healing and prevent death if the injuries are less than ninety percent fatal. Just place her in one of the beds and let it do its job. She’ll be right as rain in a few hours.”
My shoulders relax. “Thank you,” I breathe, rushing toward the doors he points me toward. After a few steps, I realize the other player from the bar is trailing behind me, his glass in his hand. I glance at him over my shoulder.
“You got a problem?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes.
He throws back the rest of his glass and sets it on the counter. “She’s asleep, ain’t she? Out cold, I’d wager.”
I bare my teeth at him. “I suggest you go back to that bar and take your seat before you make the mistake you’re thinking about.”
He laughs. “We’re both men here,” he reasons. “She’s certainly a looker, even with all that bruising. What’s a few more bruises added in?”
I tense, my body vibrating with anger. “She ain’t a fucking toy. Fuck off, asshole, before I chop your dick off and feed it to the Boiúna.”
He doesn’t know the boss is dead, a fact that’s clear when he holds up his hands and backs toward the bar. “Alright, alright, fucker,” he grunts. “Didn’t know you were sweet on the bitch. Just thought we could share, just us men.”
“If you’re still here when I come back out, I’m going to gut your ass,” I warn him. “I suggest you make yourself scarce.”
The other player scoffs. “Fucking pussy licker.”
I ease backwards, making sure he isn’t following, before I turn back toward the rows of doors. Still, I keep checking to make sure he doesn’t follow. I don’t put it past the bastard to try and knock me over the head when I’m not looking.
The first few doors are locked, clearly occupied, but the third one is open. Inside is a small, raised bed and a table. One the other side of it, there’s a place to relieve yourself and a large white basin. I don’t worry about any of that right now. I just gently lay Vesper in the bed, careful not to fuck with her messed up shoulder. She doesn’t make any noise as I set her down, even with all her injuries. She’s still wet from the river, her clothing sticking to her. I take off her boots and drop them to the floor. Water splashes out of them onto the flooring, leaving dark spots in the pale gray material. I eye her wet clothing, wondering if I should take those off, too.
“She won’t take kindly to realizing you took off her clothes,” Cipher warns.
“I have no desire to be stabbed with a blunt blade,” I answer, tucking the blankets around her so she doesn’t get cold at the very least. Then I turn toward the door.
“You’re not going to heal?” Cipher asks, surprised. “I thought you were at least more intelligent than that.”
“I’m going to have a drink,” I grunt. “And make sure that asshole doesn’t come anywhere near this room. Even if they lock behind me, I don’t want him waiting for her when she comes out. Now, let’s go back to normal where you stop talking to me and we pretend like you’re not playing favorites.”
Cipher hesitates. “As you wish, player number three million, six hundred and seventy-three thousand, five hundred, and seventeen.”
“That’s more like it,” I say, before taking a seat at the bar and getting the bartender’s attention. “Something strong enough to ease the pain.”
The bartender’s strange, bushy brows go up. “Coming right up.”
I’m two glasses in before I realize I probably should have asked what I’m drinking. I pass out before I can even get the words out.
Cipher is right. I’m an idiot . . .
CHAPTER13
VESPER
