Page 70 of A Vow of Shadows

The noise struck me first. After so many weeks being one of only two—or now, three—souls in a given place, the boisterous crowd hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back upon opening the door, clamping my hands over my ears until I could adjust to the clamor.

A lively band played from the far corner. Several people danced, clapped, and stomped their feet along to the bawdy tune. Everywhere I turned different conversations vied for attention over the music. The crowded bar overflowed with drinks and still, people shouting for more.

No one paid me any heed as I tried to blend into the stone walls. Moira had done well in selecting a dress that wouldn’t draw attention. I was unremarkable but clean. The setting sun cast enough shadows around the space that I hoped my own would not stand out as unnatural. Luckily, I’d had the forethought to draw my hair over the left side of my face.

I crept through the room, avoiding stares and errant elbows, and finally found a table in a secluded room off the main dining area. The patrons in this area appeared to be more of the travel-weary sort, content to make small talk and enjoy a hot meal in relative peace.

Not long after I slid into the small corner booth, a curvy woman with a stained apron sidled over to take my order. At least, that’s what I assumed she said, but her flowy, lilting words meant nothing to me.

I shook my head and pointed to my mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak your language.”

I spoke slowly in case she knew any of my native tongue, but she only smiled and bobbed a curtsy, returning moments later with a lukewarm ale and a bowl of stew. The ale was sour, but the stew was filling. After I finished, I contemplated licking the bowl clean, only my desire to stay unnoticed stilled my tongue.

Sipping my ale, my thoughts strayed to the new direction my life had taken. I supposed this had always been the trajectory of my life, but now I was in on the plans. Aware of them but unable to alter them to my will—a fact which grated on me.

Queen of the Afterworld.

What an insane notion.

It had been mere weeks since I’d wrapped my mind around the idea that Death was coming for me. Now, I had to believe he wanted me as his wife? I shivered despite the warmth of the inn.

“Miss Fil’Owen.”

I looked up to see Fate’s footman—Harold, that was his name—standing beside my table. “Yes?” What more did Fate have in store for me that she must send her manservant to fetch me from where she’d unceremoniously abandoned me?

“The Ferrier is here for you, Miss.”

I jumped to my feet. Sure enough, the sun had fully set in the time I’d been contemplating my entire existence. The footmandropped a handful of coppers on the table for my tab, and I nodded in thanks. Without waiting for him to lead, I rushed from the room, weaving through the crowded main dining room and exploding out the front door.

I ran into Evander’s waiting arms, overcome by the feeling that I was coming home. It was a preposterous notion, but breathing in his familiar scent, I could understand why my body reacted that way. Fate had been wrong. Behryn wasn’t my destiny, Evander was.

Shadows erupted around us, cocooning us in their cool embrace. He pulled away first, and I made a sound of impatience as his eyes scanned me from head to toe. His fingers followed, confirming what his eyes refused to believe, that I was well and whole and here.

Taking his hand in mine, I pressed a kiss to each of his fingertips. His eyes darkened, and I bit my lip as he leaned in. My eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for the press of his lips to mine.

A pointed cough had us springing apart like young lovers caught in a compromising position. The irony wasn’t lost on me as the shadows around us cleared to reveal Sam leaning casually against the side of a carriage. Heat rose to my cheeks as he exchanged a knowing glance with Evander.

“I’m sure we all have much to catch up on.” Sam winked at me. “But we still have an angry demon out for our blood—several, in fact. It may be prudent to keep moving.”

I nodded and allowed Evander to pull me into the carriage as Sam held open the door. He entered behind me, and I was struck by the amount of space the two reapers occupied. Once the door closed, there was hardly room to breathe between the three of us, let alone move.

Evander and I sat on the same bench I’d occupied less than an hour earlier while Sam took Moira’s seat. I’d expected to see her within and searched the cabin for evidence of her existence.

When Evander caught my eye, I asked him the question that had niggled at the back of my mind since the footman came to fetch me. “Are you working with Fate now?”

At Evander’s genuine expression of surprise, I looked to Sam. “We are in her carriage, are we not? That is her footman driving us.”

Sam glanced behind him like he could see the man in question, but Evander answered. “You mean the fair-haired woman, Moira?”

I nodded slowly, marking the wide-eyed look that passed between the men.

“She only told us her name and where to find you,” said Sam. “We did not know that she was the Lady of Fate.”

So I told them of my encounter with Fate and all that she had revealed. When I finished, Evander cursed. I echoed the sentiment.

“Now, what?” Sam asked, the corners of his mouth pulled down.

“I think we must return to the manor.” Evander worried the edge of his cloak between his fingers. “It was your original plan, Katrin, to search the libraries for anything that might contain a clue to freeing you.”

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