Page 67 of Secrets of the Six

"Olli has many forms and takes up many odd jobs," he shrugs, as if it's no true feat to deceive people so effortlessly. "He's a chameleon of sorts and he's very good at blending in wherever he goes. Now are you coming or not? I don't have time to wait out here all night."

I take his outstretched hand, allowing him to hoist me to my feet. I don't anticipate the force of this jarring motion and I collide against his broad chest. Flicking my eyes up to meet his, it's odd to see him wearing the mask I first met him in. It's as if my brain is having difficulty fusing Salvador, Don Rafael and Remus into one person. How can he be all three at once and not blow his cover. A master of deception indeed. I'm but a petty thief. Deep rooted charades are still foreign to me, but despite all his identities, I can't help but feel all three of them care for me.

The slight uptick at the corner of his mouth draws my gaze. I swallow hard to compose my rapidly beating heart before whispering, "You look like you're up to something."

"I was thinking how lovely you look with the mask." His gloved hand slips up and flicks strands of hair from my face. "The phantom and his wraith."

"You mean the viper and her fox."

"So you do claim me." His sly smile makes my insides twist.

I clear my throat to distract him from my reddening cheeks and jerk my chin toward the church. A silent plea for him to take me where we need to go without any more delays.

"Olli is waiting for us, is he not?" I remind him and he reluctantly trots to the end of the rooftop and slides down the side to the dark street below.

I dutifully follow suit and perch my legs over the edge before swinging over the side to descend, but halfway down, I hear Remus hiss, "Stop!" and freeze. I stare down at him and see a mixture of fear and determination etched in his face. Before I can question why he issued such a command, he places his index finger to his lips and jerks his head across the plaza before crouching behind a stack of crates on the opposite side of the alley.

Shit.

Marching our direction in their pristine crimson and gold uniforms are three patrolmen in the Red Guard. The Red Guard consists of the most elite soldiers in the Orlencian armed forces. Their skills in observation, interrogation, and detection are only a few attributes that compose a man of the Red Guard.

If I move a muscle, they'll see me.

If I breathe too loudly, they'll hear me.

If I give them any reason to look upward, they'll spot me.

And if they pursue me, they'll more than likely catch me.

They're one of the reasons I never attempted to venture to the Scholar District before. And they're certainly the only reason I won't ever cross the heavily guarded bridges to get a glimpse of the castle on the Royal District islet. They're like war dogs, excellent in hunting their prey and leaving no evidence of a victim.

I press my body flush against the stone wall, the tips of my fingers and toes inside my boots finding purchase in the few cracks and divots with hopes I don't fall two stories before them. All I can do is hope the shadows of the night will conceal me from their sight. With the smallest of movement to check to see if Remus is still behind the crates, I find not only is he still there, but he's armed with two daggers and poised to use them should he need to. The knives are an advisable choice. Using pistols, like the ones strapped to my thighs, would be loud and draw far too much attention from the other Red Guards more than likely stomping down another street. Knives are silent and certainly deadly, and in the right hands, no one would ever know we were here.

The notion that Remus hasn't left me to my own devices brings me some comfort, but I hate this vulnerability. If I attempt to scale up to the roof, I'll be spotted for sure. I don't have enough time to finish my descent and rush to Remus' side without them noticing either. I'm royally screwed.

My fingers begin to ache, my white-knuckle grip waning. But I'm far too stubborn to allow my trembling muscles to be my downfall.

As the three Red Guards approach, I can't help but wish they were more like their less-than-vigilant brothers-in-arms that patrol the other districts. The Black Guard take their rounds in the city lightly, joking, smoking, and drinking their way through their shifts. Those brutes are more interested in a good time than a fight. But the Red Guard is always ready to attack first and ask questions later. Hell, if the Soberano himself were traipsing around the Scholar District this late unattended, they'd throw irons around his wrists and ankles before asking him to state his name and business.

Hold on, Ines. I whisper internally, trying to give myself a pep of encouragement to distract me from the agony ricocheting through my body. My arms begin to tremble, and my knees weaken. Shit, I thought my core was stronger than this. My toes and the tips of my fingers are going numb. Silently, I will myself to keep still and to stay quiet, lest the guards look up and notice me.

The Red Guards are directly below me, so I take a deep, steadying breath and wait. My only true saving grace is the patrol marches with a purpose, and I give them no reason to glance upward. As they pass my location, I don't dare test my luck by breathing and wait, poised like a statue, until they reach the end of the block and cut to the left, disappearing from sight.

I let loose the breath I was holding, and a tear slips down my cheek from the excruciating pain tremoring through my limbs. Now that I can finish my descent, I attempt to, but my body refuses to obey. I'm stuck and know that falling is the only step that comes next.

"Vibora?" Remus slips from his hiding spot, daggers nowhere to be seen. "Jump," he instructs, arms open wide like a mother coaxing her child to trust her. "I'll catch you."

I want to argue with him or at least deny his offer of aid. I don't have the strength or willpower to descend gracefully, and I don't know if another patrol might be upon us soon, so although reluctantly, I nod my head in compliance.

"I swear if you drop me –"

"I won't drop you. Trust me."

"What other choice do I have?" I offer sarcastically, rolling my eyes, preparing to let go of the wall.

"You could fall and take your chances," he shoots back, a twinge of teasing in his tone.

"Ass," I mutter.