Page 67 of Of Daggers and Deceit

“How can I help?” she murmured as she walked towards me and saw Sly’s suit between my fingers, confusion and worry etching her face, though she didn’t ask further questions.

“I need that bag with my spare clothes.”

She looked at the sand-covered floor before promptly turning to leave and do as I asked. My mother was the one who had taught me to not ask questions or give information freely, that the price of sharing it would be steep. Don’t trust anyone, she once told me. I hadn’t, not until Sly forced his way in, and now the only thing I could do was trust.

The shower switched off, and I quickly opened the door a crack, enough to stick my arm through with his cleaner suit. There was nothing much else I could do. He took it and changed, swapping places with myself as I showered, rinsing my hair and body of sand before hopping out and wrapping a towel around myself as my mother opened the door and placed the bag beside it.

I blew out a relieved breath when I opened it, the white clothes sitting there untouched, the faint smell of Zander wafting from it. This would have to do.

I’d once packed this bag and left it here for when I could have time to train in the desert, thinking that after Zander chose me, that would still happen. But it never did. I’d packed one of the scent trappers in it, something the partners of our fisherman often used here to keep anxiety low and to soothe their partners when they left for days at a time for work. It was handy in a time like this.

Sly was already waiting for me when I stepped out, my mother now nowhere to be found. It was for the best, though I hated that I couldn’t hug her and stay with her, that she couldn’t hug me back like she used to. So, I left her alone, no discussion between us, a secret to share. I prayed they would never find his body.

The moon was much further across the sky by the time we exited my childhood home, running back to the tiny, almost invisible gap in the hedge that gave us access to the Inner Ring. It was likely now the very early hours of a new day. Zander would still be busy, but I was paranoid and nervous, even if I could feel Sly’s gift against my skin shielding us from those who may be watching.

Footsteps clacked against the cobblestone patch as my breath hitched, and Sly pulled me quickly against a building, his arms encasing me as two guards walked the perimeter, their weapons in their grip, their faces scanning intently down every street.

Dread hung heavy on my back, pressing down as I watched the guards walk further away from us. I let him lead me after that, down every street, around buildings and rose bushes until we reached the small gap in Zander’s hedge that marked the boundary of his garden. We moved through with ease.

I held my breath as we passed stationary guards who stood with their weapons drawn, marking every corner of Zander’s garden, both stoic and unmoving. But I knew all too well how perceptive they were; I’d watched them quietly often. It was uncomfortable and eerie to pass them, their eyes sliding over us, though they couldn’t see as we slipped past them unacknowledged. My hands had become clammy the closer we got towards those doors that signified the entry point to my home. Sweat beaded on my brow, the dread surrounding me, suffocating.

I paused at the foot of the building when we arrived, nodding my thanks to Sly for covering me and calming myself down to ride the elevator up. He kept me invisible until I stepped in, and the doors slid closed. A smile I didn’t truly feel graced my face as I stared at the empty space ahead of me, knowing he would still be watching me until I was out of his sight.

Strong. That was what I had to be.

The second the elevator lurched upward, my stomach began to churn. I focused intently on getting control as best I could, because the final and greatest hurdle of the night drew near. Strong. I repeated it inside my mind. I had too much counting on me in this moment. I had Raya’s life in my hands.

Panic flared inside me when the ding sounded and the doors slid open to darkness.

Strong.

I stuck one foot forward, followed by the next, easing myself out of the elevator, allowing myself to adjust to the darkness before moving towards my bedroom. I tip-toed quietly to the living room, conscious of every movement I made in an effort to remain silent, my destination drawing closer.

The floor creaked beneath my feet, and I froze, lifting my head up slowly, listening attentively to every sound.

My lungs deflated when I saw him.

The room was pitch black and silent, save for the small glow of a cigarette as he sucked a deep breath in. My heart thundered. My hands shook. The glow of the butt moved to hang loosely from fingertips on the edge of the lounge.

“Where have you been, my Rose?” His voice was tight and strained, a caution for me if there ever was one.

Closing my eyes, I schooled my features to a warm smile as I sauntered over and lowered myself onto his lap, tucking my body against his. He loved a docile female.

With my head in the crook of his neck, I murmured softly. “I needed fresh air, as I couldn’t sleep. I went up to the rooftop to breathe in its peace. I thought it would be safest.” After seeing the number of guards in the garden, I couldn’t say I was there. That left me with so few options.

He lifted the cigarette to his lips, sucked another breath in, and released it. The stench of the herb caused my nose to wrinkle, but I didn’t so much as budge otherwise, awaiting his reply.

He lifted his free hand to rub against my thigh. “I was worried about you.”

He nuzzled his face into my neck and scented me. It was a test he used to do often when we’d first started seeing each other, back when he was around more often. When he pulled away, his hand dragged against my thigh delicately, seeming satisfied that his smell still rested on my skin; I’d made sure it had. He shifted his face to plant a gentle kiss against my mouth. He could be soft sometimes, almost kind. I could fall in love with him when focusing on moments like this. If only it was more than a moment, and if only he truly saw me. It was moments like this that made every word Raya had spoken about him tonight seem so unbelievable. I couldn’t possibly fathom the Zander here in this moment and the Zander Raya had spoken of.

“Did you shower before you went?” he asked, and I fought to keep my body soft, his hand reaching up to thumb my damp hair between his fingertips.

“Yes. I wasn’t feeling well, so I showered again. It helped me feel better, more refreshed.”

Another slow drag of his cigarette that I was now forced to inhale.

“You smell... different,” he stated with a tense edge to his tone. My hands began to slightly shake as I forced a frown on my face.

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