Page 74 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

Theos is quiet for a moment before he responds. “If she is working for him then she already knows about certain things.” Darius’ death, of course, and how it affected him.

I rock back on my heels and yawn. “Darius is already dead, brother,” I remind him. “It’s not like Azai could take him away a second time.”

Theos bares his teeth at me. “Can you keep your foul mouth shut for a singular second, Kalix?” he demands.

“What?” I lift my shoulders and let them fall back into place. “It’s the truth.”

In response, Ruen sighs and grabs Theos’ arm, dragging him several paces away. “Ignore him,” he urges. As if I haven’t heard that before. Thankfully, it’s the one thing Theos is never quite able to do and one of the reasons being around him is so pleasing. Ruen’s tone drops, but not so low that I can’t hear from where I’m standing. “Take today off and rest, the funerals for the deceased will last the rest of the week, and if the Terra truly is working for Azai, she’ll be relaying your responses and attendance to him.”

Theos throws off Ruen’s hand and reaches up, shoving a hand through the top of his pale hair. He grabs a chunk and yanks. Hard. Yes, that frustration is so good. It’ll make training in the coming weeks as he battles his grief and hides it away that much more enticing.

I rock back and forth on my heels and find my mind drifting as Theos and Ruen continue to talk in low tones. Curiosity gets the better of me and I reach out a mental pathway to the familiar I sent slithering after the Terra. Closing my eyes, I meld the snake’s mind with my own and take in the sights it’s currently seeing.

A carriage swaying back and forth, slowing to a stop. Booted footsteps hopping down. The creature waits a beat and then follows in the shadows. Every once in a while, I watch as the Terra pauses and looks back. Almost as if she can sense me and my little familiar. A shiver moves through me.

Regardless of Ruen’s warning, I know that I’ll not stop until I know everything about this mortal woman. Her senses are keen. Her body sensuous beneath the man-like clothes she chooses to wear. She’s got the eyes of a warrior, the bosom of a sex Goddess, and the scent of something untamable. It’s enough to give me a feeling similar to that of eating ambrosia.

What, oh what, could our little mortal friend truly be, I wonder. Because one thing is for certain, she’s not normal. Not at all.

Chapter 32

Kiera

Ileave the Academy at dawn, slipping through the nearly empty corridors like a shadow. The memory of last night lingers on my skin even though I’d snuck into the Darkhavens’ personal bathing chamber and washed off the scent of cum and pleasure before making my escape. It was wrong of me to stay the night. The second I’d woken and realized where I still was, I’d slipped out of Theos’ bed and made my exit as swiftly as physically possible.

Keeping my head low and my hood drawn up, I don’t stop until I get to the front gates. I withdraw the permission I received from Hael and hand it to the guard—an older man of Mortal God descent with a streak of gray through the side of his darker hair. He reads the note and then hands it back to me before signaling for the gates to open.

I don’t look back as I step through them and start walking. A strange prickling sensation moves through me as I get farther and farther from the grounds. I pause halfway down the pathway that leads to the edge of the city and look back, scanning the brush and road. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, but even if my eyes don’t pick up anything, my senses are screaming at me that I’m being watched.

The tips of my fingers burn with a coldness I’m not used to. Fear? I’m not entirely sure, but I do know one thing, at least. What I’d done with Theos Darkhaven last night had been a mistake. One that I won’t be informing Regis about when I see him. I pray he doesn’t notice the slight tilt of my stride and ask questions because if I’m honest with myself, I’ve never left a man’s bed—even if he were still breathing when I did—with thighs this sore or a pussy this satisfied.

Turning back towards the road, I finish my descent into Riviere. It takes a good hour for me to get to the edges of the outer streets, just far enough into the residential part of the God City to catch an early morning horse-drawn carriage passing through the alleyways. The sun crests over the hillside and farther up over the spires of the Academy’s roof in the distance.

Tossing the cab driver a few denza as payment, I clamber into the interior of the carriage. My upper lip pulls back instinctively as the ripe scent of male sweat permeates my nostrils and I quickly bring my cloaked sleeve up to cover my mouth and nose to muffle the smell. The only good thing about the foul odor is the fact that it means the two other individuals currently riding inside are human. Gods and Mortal Gods don’t sweat the same way mortals do.

The two other riders sit opposite one another with their arms crossed and heads down as the driver clicks his tongue at the horse and sets the carriage back into motion. I’m left with little other choice but to find a spot alongside one of them.

I thrust my back against the seat as the door swings shut behind me and turn my face into the window to watch as the world of Riviere wakes for the oncoming day. Public transport carriages aren’t necessarily my favorite method of travel, but it’s cheaper and it beats having to walk the entire city to get to where I’m going.

That strange feeling of being watched or followed never leaves. I peer both curiously and suspiciously at the men huddled in their seats, but neither of them speaks up, and as time drones on, they eventually disembark at their stops and others get on.

Back and forth, side to side, the carriage clatters through the streets, swaying as it stops at various intervals. The deeper we get into mortal territory, the less shiny the streets begin to look. The gold etchings on the buildings turn to silver and then plain stone. None of the travelers that board the coach are of Divine descent. Though, I suppose that makes sense. After all, no God worth their salt would be caught dead on mortal transportation unless they were hiding their identity, and in a city such as Riviere, hiding one’s Divinity is reserved for only those such as me in which I am a population of one.

Another hour or so passes until we finally get close enough to my destination that I decide to disembark. My booted foot steps out onto the cobblestone road and a moment later, the door to the cab swings closed and the driver grunts as he clicks the horse back into motion. By now, the sun has risen higher into the sky, and the whole world has woken and set about their daily tasks.

Casting a quick look around, I can’t shake off the strange anxiety that creeps through me. Caution had made me jump off a bit earlier than necessary, so I take a few back-alley roads and climb a few roofs, hopping from one to another before descending back to the streets just in case I truly am being followed. Finally, after what feels like forever, I spot the grime-coated door of Madam Brione’s shop. I’m more shocked than anything Regis hasn’t cleaned it if he’s been staying in the city as he was ordered.

I twist the handle and let myself in, finding everything practically the same. The only difference to the rather unkempt interior is the fact that the stairs leading up to the individual residential rooms on the second floor are free of any dust. Regis’ handiwork, no doubt. Unbuttoning my cloak, I turn and hang it onto a hook near the front door before I head up to the second floor.

Though Regis would have no way of knowing when I’d arrive, I don’t doubt that he’s here. I follow the well-kept, swept, dusted, and mopped staircase up to the second-floor corridor. My lips twitch the whole way. With his distaste for the unsanitary, Regis would have been a far better choice to go to the Academy than I. It’s truly too bad that he wasn’t the right choice of assassin.

I find the hallway upstairs just as clean as the staircase, including my own door, and out of curiosity, I pause to peek inside. Yup. He’d cleaned in there too. I shake my head. It’s a wonder how he’s able to fuck so much if he’s such a germophobe. One might think he’d be disgusted by bodily fluids, but no. Regis is as much of a whore as a paid prostitute when it comes to sex.

Turning away from my room and letting the door swing shut, I go to the one across from me and don’t bother knocking. Instead, I turn the knob and let the wood swing inward, scraping the floor and clattering against the wall it falls against. The sharp noise causes Regis to sit upright in bed as the naked body alongside him groans with irritation.

“Good morning,” I say pleasantly.

Familiar blue eyes blink at me for several moments before Regis groans and scrubs a hand down his face. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. “You couldn’t have waited for a more appropriate time of day?”

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