Page 2 of Dangerous Exile

The last of the words left her tongue and every speck of determination that had gotten her this far abandoned her, leaving her to fall, slip downward, consumed by blackness that swallowed her whole.

Blackness in itself, a gift.

~~~

Standing at the front of his desk, his knuckles resting on the worn wood, Talen Blackstone stared at lines in a ledger with a decided frown stretching his face.

Expanding his empire into Hoppler’s territoryin the rookeries had been proving trickier than he’d imagined when the opportunity had been presented by Hoppler himself. An offer born of respect, as Hoppler was currently attempting to disentangle himself from the most sordid enterprises currently in his realm.

Talen had to make some hard choices about what ventures to keep, and what to set free into the world to fend for themselves. It was a risk. The businesses he cut loose could very well rise up under a new hungry cutthroat ready to set war upon him for territory.

He already knew what he wanted to set free. But the numbers didn’t agree with his assessment.

His hand ran across his eyes, clearing the jumble of blurry numbers from his sight. The whole of it exhausting. Change was coming and he didn’t care for change. Steady. Straightforward. That’s what he liked. That’s what he excelled at. Not grey areas. Not attempting to predict the future.

The door behind Talen opened without a knock and Talen shoved off from the desk, turning around. Only one person entered this room without knocking.

Declan moved into his office and at his side…shit.

Talen froze, his body and limbs suddenly cast in stone he couldn’t break free from. A familiar terror raced through his bones—a terror that he worked damn hard to never have to feel in his life.

“Tal.” Declan closed the door behind him.

Talen didn’t look to him, couldn’t shift his eyes off the pitiful being that Declan had just ushered into the room.

If a portal to hell had opened, snatched this woman from the earth, sank her into the depths of torture, then spit her back up atop the dirt, she would have fared better than she currently did.

The devil had nothing on the hell that already existed in this land. Demons of men. And the destruction that one of those demons had obviously wrought upon this woman was almost too much to bear.

A face beaten to mush. Black, swollen skin on every part of her body that showed. Cuts, lines of dried blood snaking across every surface.

The petrification of his muscles eased and Talen puffed out a sigh, looking from the swaying woman in a dark cloak in front of him, to his best friend and partner. “Why are you bringing me this, Declan?”

Declan lifted a hand to the woman to prop her up before she fell over and the instant his fingers wrapped around her upper left arm, a squeak came from her bruised lips.

She jerked out of Declan’s grasp and lost her balance, teetering, her slow feet not able to keep up with her momentum.

Talen’s hand flung out, clasping around her right shoulder to force her back upright. Lots of cloth, little meat under his fingers. Easy to push.

His gaze landed on her face for the smallest second and he quickly looked back to Declan. “Why?”

His same height, Declan met his gaze, unruffled by the annoyance in Talen’s voice. He shrugged. “She would only talk to you. She faded out, outside, and the only thing she spoke when I nudged her awake was your name.”

“I didn’t know that request would gain just anyone access into my office.”

His office was sacred.

He could count on one hand the only people that had ever been allowed in this room. From his vantage in his office, he could see down onto the main room of his gaming hell, the Alabaster, from the windows that lined one wall. He looked down, a dark figure in the shadows, and it only magnified the mystery of his persona that he’d cultivated over the years. No one looked up. No one got into his office. He wasn’t to be trifled with.

Declan didn’t squirm under his glare. “Madame Juliet sent her.”

That made him pause.

It made the woman pause as well, as her battered face turned to Declan. Talen assumed surprise was in her eyes, if he could see her eyes through the black, swollen skin that fully swallowed her left eye. But her right eye showed definite shock.

Her face turned back to him and the distorted line of her lips opened, the tiniest voice squeaking out. “Juliet Thomson. Hide me.” She gasped a breath, her voice fading as if each word was taking her last shards of strength. “Selkie South Brothel.”

With that, she crumpled downward. Not falling forward, backward, to the left or right. Straight down, her body disappearing into a pile within her dark cloak, the hood covering her face.

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