Page 27 of The Orc's Thief
I make it to the end of the street when I stop dead, glancing over my shoulder. The little thief led me into that courtyard for a reason, I’m almost certain of it. I turn on my heel and run back, following my instincts. Once there, I return to the door through which I first entered the courtyard and glance around, only this time I ignore the most obvious route: the open doorway I rushed through on my first try.
And there it is, an old lean-to, perhaps a pig pen or a chicken coop, with a low roof leading right to a yawning window.
“Damn it.”
I should have known her escape route would include climbing. It’s how she moves around this city unseen, after all.
The roof of the small structure doesn’t look strong enough to support my weight, and it’s no use anyway. If she exited onto the rooftops, I wouldn’t be able to follow. No, my task is to find the route she took to climb down, and where she went from there.
I circle around, scanning the buildings for any hint of a rope or a downspout she could have used to clamber from the roofs, but there’s nothing. In this part of the city, the houses aren’t connected in rows like they are at the mansion we came from. They’re shorter structures built around common courtyards like the one I just vacated, which makes jumping from roof to roof more difficult.
With a sinking feeling in my gut, I return to the building she must have entered. If she didn’t escape through the roof, she must have exited through the front door, which is…
Right here.
I stop in front of the old wooden door, and sure enough, it’s unlocked. I poke my head inside and scent her immediately. She was here not too long ago, and the ghost of her lingers in the dusty air. Cherries and sweet peas…and sugar.
I straighten, considering my memory of her. When she’d leaned close to clean the blood off my cheek, I took deep breaths of her scent, unable to help myself. She’d been so delicate with me, her fingers warm against my skin. My cock had plumped up at the mere thought of having her near me, and at the time, I was glad that my cloak lay over my lap so she couldn’t see my reaction.
I didn’t want to scare her or give her any more leverage over me.
But now that I think of it, the aroma of sugar, of baking, had been layered over her scent, like icing on a cake. I’d wantednothing more than to lick her, wondering if she’d taste sweet too, but it was her clothes and her hair that bore the sugary whiffs, not her skin.
The sugar had come from somewhere else.
Another memory flashes in my mind: the young soldier Major Strahl sent to watch me had been sitting in front of a bakery. I’d smelled something similar in the shop, the yeasty warmth emanating from the baked goods surrounding me.
A bakery, that’s what I need to find. But is it that particular establishment, or another one of the many small shops in this city? The one I visited was just around the corner from the city watch headquarters, which has me thinking my thief would avoid it at all costs. But nothing about her has been as expected.
I turn my back on the old building and consider my options. The fastest way to find her would be to run to my clansmen for help, but then I’d have to admit what happened. I’d have to tell them my mate is a thief, and that I lost her right after finding her.
Horror descends on me at the realization of what I’ve done. I’ve been searching for her for years, and I let her go in a matter of minutes.
No, I couldn’t admit it to my friends. Not to Marut, who hasn’t spent a day away from his mate since finding her, nor to Sarrai, who would kick my ass for being rude to a woman.
I curse under my breath and set out, searching for bakeries along the way. It’s the middle of the fucking night, so all the shops are closed, but I follow the scent of bread and find a small place tucked between a cobbler’s and what looks like a school for merchants’ children. I peer in through the window, noting the shelves on which fresh bread will be stacked in a couple of hours. The back room is dark. It’s too early in the morning even for bakers. I sniff the air, trying to match the smells wafting outto the memory of my mate’s scent, and realize there’s no sugary undertone here. They must only bake plain bread, not pastries.
I turn away from the shop, wondering if this is good news or not.
“Hey there!”
A voice rings out in the street, and I turn, my heart thudding faster.
A pair of city watchmen is marching toward me, their hands on the pommels of their short swords. A lantern bobs between them, its yellow light spilling onto the cobblestones.
“What are you doing, loitering around at this hour?” the one carrying the lantern demands.
But the other man holds up a hand to stop his colleague. “Wait, it’s all right. He works with Major Strahl’s unit.”
The first soldier lifts the lantern to shine the light into my face. “You really know the Major?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Then I remember I was staring into a shop window, soaking wet, half my face still crusted with blood. I would have questioned me too if I were in their place.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Aye, I’ve been with the Major’s unit for a while now. Temperamental fellow, walks with a cane, has a habit of drinking endless cups of tea.”
“Ah, right.” He straightens and moves the lantern away from me. “Sorry—can’t be too careful at this time of night. What brings you to this part of town, anyway?”
“I’m merely searching for a friend.”
