Page 139 of Stars in Umbra
‘I’m worried we’ll end up doing more than brawling.’
Mo growled, tugging Rina close. ‘I’ll show you more than brawling.’
Mirage stood, rolling her eyes as the pair kissed. ‘Get a room. Meanwhile, give me a few and I’ll send instructions with all the guidance you’ll need. Times, locations, the guise and clothes, even a freakin’ flyer to get you there.’
‘I hope this bloody works,’ Rina muttered, held in Mo’s arms.
Mo let her go, with another soft brush of his lips on hers. ‘It’ll work,mikaya,’ he rasped. ‘If not, we’ve got the Queen of Improvisation on our team.’
‘Now you’re talking, I do like being called royalty,’ Mirage murmured as the couple headed for the exit. ‘See you both soon.’
Rina raised an eyebrow as they stepped off the gunship. ‘Improvising is how people get killed.’
He winked. ‘And also how legends are born. Now let me show you who’s a legend in bed.’
She rolled her eyes and shoved him in the chest with a smirk and a suggestive wink as the sun dipped over the hills.
The cobalt-blue sky of Dunia was beginning to bruise with golds and deep purples of mid-afternoon when they arrived in the Trossachs.
It was a sprawl of jagged foothills that framed the eastern continent like a fractured crown.
Nestled in the valley basin was the hamlet of Rosch Vale, a mining village that wore its age in rust and soot.
The flyer Mirage wrangled for them rattled on its descent, painted in matte copper tones, its undercarriage scuffed and dented in all the right places to look unremarkable.
They landed on the scraggly field beside the Halo Horns tavern.
Gravel roads snaked between red-roofed dwellings, sheet-metal shops, and ale houses with faded signs swinging in the wind.
The town reeked of hot stone, iron grit, and old oil.
Locals moved with slow wariness, their cautious curiosity at newcomers flickering beneath brims and visors.
Outsiders were a rarity here, and Mo knew it.
Mo stepped out first, tugging on the edge of his weather-beaten miner’s jacket.
His boots appeared scuffed, the steel toes showing.
His shirt was damp with stained sweat and coated in cobalt dust patterns he spent an hour applying with a chemical mist.
‘Enjoying your new look?’
He glanced at Rina and arched a brow, eyes trailing over her tousled mane.
It was wild and windblown, similar to the untamed tresses of a rock star’s mistress.
His gaze fell further south to the scandalous curve of her bod in a tight black skirt and a sheer crimson top.
‘Forget about me,’ he growled. ‘Tis all about relishing you, woman. You look like every miner’s walking dream. Sexy asfokk.’
She smirked and brushed an invisible fleck off his shoulder. ‘Well, you look like you crawled out of a cobalt waste pipe.’
He chuckled, timbred and warm, and took her hand. ‘Perfect then. Let’s sell this illusion.’
They swaggered into the tavern, arms entwined, acting the part, her giggling, him half-limping like his boots didn’t quite fit.
The Haloed Hornwas a cavern of dark wood, brass rails, and flickering light panels.
