Page 41 of Kingdom of Chaos
Imogen pushes past me without answering and disappears into our motel room. I really don’t like her.
When I look back, Talon is reaching for something deep in the cargo area of the vehicle. His shirt rides up slightly, revealing a long, angry-looking cut on his side, where blood is slowly trickling down his skin.
Without thinking, I drop the bag and grab the edge of his shirt, hauling it up. Two more slashes cross his ribs. Thin, jagged lines that look almost too evenly spaced to be random. The wounds are red and inflamed, the edges raised and still bleeding in places. They look like claw marks, or maybe the aftermath of barbed wire, messy, but with a strange kind of pattern. Definitely not from a blade.
My stomach knots. “Talon,” I whisper. “What did this to you?”
“Whoa,” he says, pulling away.
His T-shirt falls back into place, covering the wounds. I try to reach for his shirt again—I want to see how serious an injury it is—but he sidesteps me.
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” he says, ducking his head to avoid my gaze. “We just ran into a little bit of trouble when we were collecting weapons. Nothing Imogen and I couldn’t handle.”
“Evidently,” I say with a raised brow.
He sighs. “Our old suppliers were already alerted by the Society to be on the lookout for us. We had to make sure they didn’t report back that they’d spotted us, or come morning the area would be swarming with Society members. Something we definitely want to avoid.”
I gape at Talon. “So you killed them?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended that you think I’m so bloodthirsty.”
“Definitely offended.”
His smirk kicks up a notch. “And yet I’m not. But no, we didn’t kill them. Not that they wouldn’t have deserved it. Underground arms dealers have plenty of blood on their hands. But we did make sure they couldn’t reach the Arcane Society. At least for the next day or so. We definitely need to find that gate tomorrow or move on to a different one.”
“Where’s the next closest?”
Talon winces. “In the drylands.”
“The drylands? That’s the other side of the country. At least three days’ drive from here.”
He nods. “And that one is guarded, so we need to make tomorrow count.”
I sigh, the weight of the world settling on my shoulders. “About those cuts?—”
“They’re nothing.”
I narrow my eyes. “If they’re nothing, then why aren’t you healing?”
“I am, just not as quickly as usual. One of the dealers was a Komodo dragon shifter. Some of its venom got into me when he bit me.”
“Those are bite marks?” Taking a step forward, I reach for him again, wanting a better look at his injury, but he trapsmy wrist when I snag the bottom of his shirt, staying my movements.
When I go to pull my hand back, he doesn’t let go.
I glance up, and he’s watching me. We’re standing so close now I can see the shift in his eyes as his pupils expand, nearly eclipsing the stormy blue-gray.
“Locklyn,” he says, his voice dropping, the kind of tone that vibrates more than it sounds. The narrow space between us stretches tight with something electric. “Before we go through the gate, we need to talk.”
I lick my lips, suddenly hyperaware of every breath.
“Talk?” I echo, though I’m not sure if I’m asking a question or just stalling.
His gaze drops to my mouth and my stomach hollows. He slowly swipes his thumb over the wrist he’s still holding and my heart beats faster.
“There’s something I need to tell you about?—”
