Page 104 of A Soul to Steal

Drowning his sorrows in the worst excuse for a beer he’d ever had the displeasure of assaulting his precious tastebuds with, Gideon nursed an aching headache.

He had been through many embarrassing moments in his life, but being paraded through a town like an entertaining show just for a pair of pants may be at the top of his shit list. The only reason it hadn’t been any worse, his humiliation not stretched out for too long, was due to the higher ups intervening.

They’d been, justifiably, furious with their underlings.

Not only did the soldiers torment Gideon, the scene had no doubt burned the eyes of every man and woman on the street. Thankfully, no child had been within eyesight as he cupped his junk.

After that, he’d swiftly been given clothes and shoes, and even a small pouch of coins as an apology. Some of the soldiers had taken pity on him, calling him a poor shmuck after teasing his naked ass, and even offered up some of their own coin. Of course, he took it.

So, here he was in some rundown, musty tavern, wasting it on booze.

He probably should have been saving it, but right then, he needed a drink more than anything.

Peering down at his own weathered, tired face within the foul liquid, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Duskwalker. He also couldn’t stop thinking about his life, the one he was desperate to return to.

He watched himself wince when a strike of pain lanced his entire face, and he rubbed at the side of his head with the heel of his injured hand. Ever since he’d woken up, it felt like someone had taken a mallet to his skull.

I feel like shit.He looked it too.I wish that bard would stop mangling that poor harp.Every off-tune, high-pitched note blasted his left eardrum.

At least the black leather trousers they’d given him were clean, and the white tunic they gave him didn’t have any frills on it. His brown boots were a little well-worn, but getting a good new boot these days was a hard ask.

I would have preferred a jacket, though,he thought, as he lifted liquid hell to his lips.

At least the fireplace kept the room warm.

Thankfully, no one came to disturb him, since he wasn’t in the most sociable of moods. As the night grew later, he eventually groaned and placed his forehead against the sticky bar.

Someone tapped the top of his head. “Hey, you. There’s no sleeping here. I keep my doors open, even at night, but that’s for the poor insomniacs of this town.”

“Sorry, mate,” Gideon grumbled, noting how dizzy he’d become. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I’ll try to stay awake and find a place to stay tomorrow.”

“Good luck with that.” The dark-haired man snorted, narrowing brown eyes at him. “You’ll be clawing for an empty home with the rest of the people in the slums. We’re short on liveable housing right now.”

His lips twisted into a cringe. “You don’t force people to sleep on the streets at night, right?”

“No. That would be inhumane with all the Demons roaming around.” The lean man then started cleaning the inside of the mugs to remove whatever alcohol residue remained. “There’s a shelter, but it’s overfilled. You’ll likely be sleeping on the floor.”

With a solemn sigh, Gideon shrugged. “I’m a strong lad. Just give me a blanket and I’ll sleep on dirt. I don’t really care, so long as I can lay my head down.”

The bartender chuckled. “You’ve got spirit. You don’t see much of that these days.”

Yeah, well, Gideon wasn’t going to complain when it couldn’t be helped. Before long, he’d be travelling back to Fishket. He could rest comfortably there, either in his bed or in Beau’s – didn’t matter which.

I better get back quick.Even if he didn’t know if Gideon was alive or not, he knew Beau would wait a long time for him. A few weeks, a few months, maybe even a year. He would be absolutely devastated, but he knew the burly man would be overcome with relief, likely to weep from it, and pull him into the biggest embrace.

Gideon would hold out for that wonderful moment.

“Another?” the bartender asked when taking away his empty mug.

“Do you have anything that doesn’t taste like shit?”

He cast Gideon an apologetic wince. “Not really. Supply has been pretty bad as of late, since we’re coming into winter.”

His ears twitched. “Winter?” He sat up straight and steadied his hand on the bar.Shit... has it really been five months already?!“What’s the date today?”

“May twenty-ninth,” the man answered with a baffled frown. “Lost track of time, have you?”

He placed his forehead into his palm, dragging his hand down his face, through the stubble on his cheeks and chin. “Yeah, you can say that.”

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