Page 75 of Death of the Glass Angel
“Yes.” Talon sighed. “Like me. Which is why I’m not keen to stick around.”
“Not until I follow this to its answer.” Valkyrie insisted. “Why don’t we bait our culprit out? See if he stalks you?”
“And get myself killed?”
“Don’t you think at least one body would have been found by now if it were just some wanton butcher? I’ll be watching. If you’re in danger, I’ll be right behind you.”
Talon thumbed through his notebook, loath to accept her suggestion. But if indulging her meant he could move on to more fruitful endeavors. . .
“Fine,” Talon said shortly. “I’ll wander to a remote part of town and look vulnerable.”
“I’ll be watching,” Valkyrie promised.
She disappeared into a winding alley. A chill wind rustled Talon’s coattails, and he shivered. Tucking the notebook back into his pocket, he shoved his hands into their warmth and strolled north. Maybe nothing would happen. He hopedso.
What is he doing?The deep voice questioned.
He’s going to get himself killed.A low voice warned.
No, let him go.Another encouraged.
He’s missing something.
* * *
Janus leaned on her suite door, fastening her nightgown’s strings before unlacing them again. Raja leaned over her bed, smoothing down the sheets and placing a warming pan beneath the mattress.
The old woman stood, brushing loose white strands behind her ears. “Something wrong?”
“Talon isn’t back,” Janus answered. “It’s almost midnight.”
“So?”
“I’m just worried.”
“Don’t be. He’s your guide, not your charge.” Raja rubbed her hands on her apron and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Sors padded across her bed sheets, digging his claws into the quilted fabric and stretching. Felsin had insisted Janus take him home, suggesting the little cat would cheer her up.
A sweet gesture. Scooping the cat up, Janus pressed the warm ball of fur to her chest and tried to relax.
But she couldn’t. Something was wrong. Talon had always returned well before midnight.
Ripping her nightgown off, Janus grabbed a plain tunic and trousers. Hopping into her boots, she swung a cloak around her shoulders and peered out her window as she gathered her hair into a bun.
Kalid would kill her. Actually, everyone she knew would kill her. But she couldn’t ignore the worry gnawing at her heart, nor the vision Alfaris had shown her of Talon being murdered.
Grabbing Sors, Janus unlatched the window and whispered to the cat. “Distract the guards.” Dropping him outside, Janus watched the cat right itself and waddle away.
One of her men stood patrol to her left, turban billowing in the breeze beneath his helm. He started as the cat trotted past him and laughed under his breath.
Slipping out the window, Janus snuck behind him, clambering over the fence into the street.
More people populated the streets this time of night than Janus would have thought. Many stumbled and slurred, traveling home from the tavern or trekking to the next stop on their ale-driven journey.
Market Street was mostly quiet, with shops closed for the night. A light flickered behind a forge’s sign; a broad-chested man cleaned his workstation by torchlight.
Summoning her courage, Janus approached him, speaking in slow Altanese. “Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you’d seen someone.”
