Page 32 of Faithless
The corner of Gwen’s mouth tilted up as she watched us. “Any other questions for me?”
“Is there any other reason why you’re helping us?” I asked. “Aside from your god leading you here, plus sticking it to rich assholes. Is there anything personal in this for you?”
She took a moment to answer, one hand stroking through the wolf’s thick fur. “People have been disappearing. People I…knew. Worked with, in secret. Just missing, with no rhyme or reason.”
Torr and I looked at each other. “You think that’s related to this resort?”
“I don’t have any proof, just a strong gut feeling.” Gwen frowned at Lupa, like she was frustrated at the wolf goddess. “If anyone knows about the disappearances, they’re not saying anything. These are not elite folks, either. Just normal people.”
“So the elites don’t care and aren’t doing shit to find them,” Torr said. When Gwen nodded, he added, “I’m sorry.”
“The weirdest thing is,” Gwen looked up at me, “you know how vulnerable people are usually the ones kidnapped? Women by themselves, teens, children, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not the case here. It’s strong, able-bodiedmengoing missing. Guys you’d never pick a fight with for no reason.”
“Sorry to ask.” Torr held up a hand. “But what makes you think they’re being kidnapped? What if they’re just getting the hell out of Blakeworth?”
“Because they’re leaving spouses, children, and all their belongings behind.” Gwen’s voice hardened. “Because when the first kidnappings happened, a group of friends organized to protect their own streets since no one else would. They were gone before morning. Four men between twenty-five and thirty-five, none under six feet tall, all vanished into thin air.”
Gwen’s jaw clenched and her lip wobbled, her dark eyes blinking away tears. I could sense what she left unspoken—that one, maybe more, of the missing men had been especially important to her. If my deductions were correct, she was keeping together extremely well. I’d be a raging, feral animal if someone I loved was taken from me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling the urge to reach across the table and hold her hands. “I want to tell you that you can count on us, but I guess that’s an empty promise if we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“Yes. I really wish I could tell you more about what you’re getting into.” Gwen sniffed and quickly composed herself, folding her hands on the table. “But it’s safe to say, you should probably assume the worst.”
The worst being…what, exactly? I wondered. Slave labor? Human experimentation? My mind, already prone to running wild with ideas, started flipping through worst-case scenarios. In doing that, a question bubbled up, and I voiced it before getting lost in the spiral of my head.
“What’s this place called?”
“Mystic Canyon Resort,” Gwen answered.
* * *
We returnedto our room later, where Gwen took our measurements for our rich asshole disguises, as Torr called them. If Gwen had any thoughts about two platonic friends sharing a room with one bed, she didn’t say anything.
“What do you think?” Torr asked me when she’d left. “Do you trust her?”
I didn’t have to think for very long. “Yeah,” I said, confident in my answer. “I do. You?”
He nodded sharply, his expression determined. “I do too.”
We stayed one more night at the tavern, and this time, Torr didn’t bring up sleeping on the floor again.
I didn’t wake up to his arm around me the second morning and got annoyed by the heavy disappointment in my chest.
At breakfast, Gwen informed us that our application had been accepted. In two days, we would arrive at Mystic Canyon Resort.
“That quick?” Torr held out a strip of bacon to Lupa, who gulped it down with a crazily wagging tail. “I thought all our clothes and shit had to be custom-fitted.”
“It’s a rushed order on my employer’s account,” Gwen said. “The tailors know not to keep them waiting.”
“Is that how you’re funding this whole thing?” I asked her. “On their dime?”
A sly smile curved her lips. “Of course. I can’t afford any of this on my personal earnings.”
I frowned. “Is it safe for you to do that?”
