Page 69 of Wild Bond

“Not just the kidnappings,” Rake said, and there was something in his tone, a quality that made me pause.

“What—what do you mean?”

For a moment he said nothing, and I was about to press him when he finally spoke.

“If it’s him, he’s not just involved in the abductions,” he clarified. “He’s involved in all of it.”

I stared up at him, seeing the tightness in his eyes and that purposely blank expression. I was becoming all too familiar with it, but I had been around him enough now to see through it. “All of what?” I asked.

He stared down at me for a long moment, and I knew he was deciding whether to disclose whatever it was.

“Tell me,” I urged. “I know it goes against your spymaster nature to share information, but if you know something more about what is going on, I deserve to know.”

“Not here,” Rake cautioned.

As if the gods themselves were listening, his statement was punctuated by a roiling boom of thunder and crack of lightning.

I fell silent and didn’t say another word as we made our way to one of the many courtyards in the city that boasted a landing platform, just like in Itrain. Skye shifted back to her natural size as Naasir landed a minute later, already back from his trip to the castle. We climbed up and were on our way back to The Tower in moments.

As we flew, the wind really began to pick up, the clouds opened, and it began to rain. Hard. Even though it was a short flight from the lower city, I was soaked in moments. My cloak did little to keep out the cold, pelting droplets.

Once at the compound, we flew upward toward Rake’s room at The Tower. It was surprisingly easy to climb from Skye’s back as she hovered next to the small balcony off the double doors that led into Rake’s room.

Rake had dismounted first and stood next to the stone railing extending a calloused hand to help me step down. He looked incredibly good standing there in the rain with his hair slicked back out of his face. I couldn’t help being reminded of the bathhouse.

Quickly shaking the thought from my mind, I placed my foot solidly where Skye’s wing met her shoulder and took a leaping step from Skye’s back.

My hand grasped Rake’s and I was able to easily step down to the balcony. “I think I might prefer the stairs,” I observed, nearly having to shout over the storm.

I stared up into Rake’s chiseled face and saw the grin there. “You’ll get used to it,” he shouted back. A small thrill went through me. Was he implying that I would be visiting his room often? I hoped so.

We were both soaking wet when we got inside. The dragons shrank to their minor forms and clambered in after us. With little regard for her surroundings, Skye shook the water from her body, reminding me of a cat I had once seen do the same thing. I could tell through the bond that Skye didn’t appreciate the comparison, but almost immediately she was off exploring Rake’s room again. Naasir watched her suspiciously, monitoring her every move from where he sat by the now closed balcony doors.

Without speaking, Rake and I removed our cloaks and hung them up next to the fireplace to dry. Thank the Gray Gods for the attentive servants of The Tower compound who had anticipated the fire would be needed in the first place.

My trainee leathers were soaked through and clung to my body like a second skin. Rake’s tunic and pants weren’t much better. Luckily my boots had managed to keep my feet dry, but that was about it. My braid was dripping down my back, and I had to push some of the loose, wet tendrils from where they had plastered themselves to my face and neck.

Rake handed me a towel from next to the small wash basin. I thanked him and quickly used it to wipe my face dry and to scrunch the droplets from the ends of my hair.

Seeing this, Rake gestured to the door. “You should go and change out of those wet things. We can finish our conversation in the morning.”

I shook my head. He wasn’t getting out of explaining what he knew that easily. “No. We’re talking now.” Plunking myself down on the arm of the cushioned chair by the fire, I waited expectantly.

When he stubbornly didn’t say anything, I decided I’d wait him out. Like I had said to him, I knew it went against his naturally secretive nature to share information. I could wait. I began slowly unbraiding my hair. I might as well let the fire start drying it for me.

I had finished unbraiding it and begun working my fingers through some of the more stubborn tangles when he finally admitted, “That night in the tavern . . . Borden is not the first person to die the way he did.”

That wasn’t what I had expected him to say. I thought he was going to explain that he knew something more about Prince Pierce that would connect him to further crimes, not bring up the poor blacksmith’s death, and what we saw that night. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer me this time. “There have been two other deaths reported in the lower city recently. The five-year-old daughter of a maid who worked in one of the noble houses and a young boy who ran with one of the street gangs. Both died of a strange illness.”

“You mean . . .”

“Bloodshot eyes, red veins, foaming at the mouth.”

Curse the Gray Gods and all the Nine. “Just like Borden,” I breathed, horrified.

Rake nodded. “Both exhibited the same symptoms before their deaths. And both went missing before turning up ill. The little girl for a few weeks, the boy a few days.”

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