Page 47 of Destiny Redeemed
“Red. What happened to him?” The last I saw of him, he was fleeing
His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek ticking like a drawn bowstring. My stomach sank. I already knew the answer before he gave it. “He got away.”
I gritted my teeth, frustration flaring through my exhaustion. “Youhaveto find him. Remember the assassination attempt that day? The symbol on some of the arrows the assassins used? I saw the exact same tattoo on the members of the Red Cross gang.”
For the briefest of moments, surprise flickered in his eyes. It was gone too quickly. His lips twisted into a faint smirk, the kindthat usually preceded some infuriatingly dismissive remark. “I’m impressed you noticed that. Most wouldn’t.”
I blinked, thrown off balance by his response. “Because I’m smarter than most,” I countered, squaring my shoulders against the wool blanket draped around me. “I’m sure the arrowheads had an identical mark to the tattoos those gang members wear. It can’t be a coincidence.”
He strode toward the bed, steps slow and deliberate. My heartbeat picked up—not from fear, but from the heat in his eyes. When he got close enough, he leaned down until his face was maddeningly close to mine. “You’re mistaken,” he said quietly, his voice as smooth and unyielding as tempered steel. “The symbols aren’t the same. They’re similar, but not identical.”
I frowned, my mind racing as I mentally replayed the images I thought were seared into my memory. “No,” I said, shaking my head insistently. “That’s not possible. I remember…” My voice trailed off as doubt crept in. How could my memory—not to mention my damned pride—be wrong?
Anderic straightened up, a sigh escaping his lips. “I’ve known about the Red Cross gang for years, Ilyana. Don’t you think I’d recognize their mark if I saw it?” His words weren’t cutting, but there was an edge of finality to them.
Before I could sputter out a reply or argue further, he left the room, the door closing with a soft click.
Moments later, he returned, carrying a rolled-up sheet of parchment in one hand and, in the other, an arrow. He held both out to me without a word.
I grabbed the parchment and spread it on the blanket. There was the Red Cross tattoo sketch—arrows arranged in a circular design.
He set the arrow beside it. The mark near its shaft mirrored the tattoo’s pattern but with one arrow missing. The differencewas too subtle to catch during the assassination attempt, but now it taunted me.
I touched the arrow, comparing the symbols as my mind raced. My throat tightened. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Itcouldn’t.
I looked up to find Anderic leaning against the bedframe, his arms crossed casually. His intense gaze pinned me in place as I handed the arrow and parchment back to him.
“You’re right,” I admitted, my pride stinging a bit. “But it’s still too suspicious to ignore.”
Anderic nodded, his expression grave. “It is. The information we gathered from Gareth and now your observation—it’s all very suspicious. But we need solid evidence before we can act.”
But I wasn’t listening; my mind screeched to a halt at the mention of Gareth. How could I have forgotten? They’d captured him too. My chest went tight with panic, every shallow breath a battle. Did he reveal everything about my father’s involvement?
I studied Anderic’s face, searching for any hint that he knew more than he was letting on. His golden curls caught the candlelight, creating a halo effect that was entirely too distracting. I must have stared a moment too long because his serious expression melted into a smirk.
“I know I’m very handsome, Lya,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “And I’d love to show you more than just my face—”
“What did you get from Gareth?” I interrupted, my cheeks burning.I’m going to ignore that for now.
Anderic sobered immediately, his smirk fading. “We got some very valuable information from him.”
I clenched my fists under the blanket, hoping—no, praying—that Gareth hadn’t revealed anything about my father.
“Gareth doesn’t know who the leader is,” Anderic continued, “but your instinct was right, Lya. It seems Prince Callum is alsoinvolved. So your theory about the symbol isn’t too far-fetched. Somehow you always end up getting everything right.”
“And… anything else?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“No,” Anderic said, shaking his head.
So Gareth hadn’t thrown my father to the wolves yet. That was something. But how long would he keep quiet?
I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me. But when I looked up, I found Anderic staring at me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“You don’t seem too surprised hearing about Prince Callum’s involvement,” he said, voice low, almost thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing like he was testing me.
Panic flared in my chest. Damn it, how was I supposed to answer that? My mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation that wouldn’t raise more suspicions.
Then salvation came in the form of a thunderous banging on the door.
