Page 67 of The Deathless One
Stepping back, she eyed it with pleasure. Yes, this was perfect. There was no questioning who left this message. Who else would say such a thing?
She was the queen they were missing, and she was coming for them. She would save this kingdom from the clutches of a man who wished he were worthy of the throne. And if they didn’t see that, then she would force him to his knees. Perhaps if they saw Leon begging at her feet, they would finally believe her.
She gathered her belongings and started down another alleyway. She just had to find Callum. That was all. Someone had to know something.
A group of men stood at the end of a nearby alley, smoking cigars that left plumes of white that clung to their massive forms. Glinting knives at their waists caught in the light. They seemed a mite more clean than most of the people she’d seen thus far, as well. She’d already learned this city was ruled by powerful people, so perhaps they would know enough.
Pulling her cloak up tight to her neck, she rounded her eyes and tried to look lost. Innocent. She wasn’t threatening at all. If anything, she was a little girl who desperately needed their help. She walked up and blurted, “Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Callum Quen? Would you happen to know him? He was born in the Factory District. I know it was likely a long time ago, but I’m hoping to find someone who might have known him then.”
Then she blinked, because it almost didn’t appear like they’d even heard her. They all looked at her with hungry gazes. Eyes that saw too much, and with sneers on their lips that made her rock back a step.
Had she said something wrong?
“Why you looking for Callum?” the largest man said, blowing out a lungful of smoke in her direction.
She coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. “I need to talk with him.”
“I don’t think you want to talk with him, lovey. You’re too small of a thing for Callum to have any interest in you.”
“So you do know him?” She was a little shocked at that.
“Oh, no one really knows Callum.”
Another man joined them, his booming voice interrupting the others. “What did I tell you, witch? I see you making magic and I won’t give you a warning.”
Suddenly all their eyes narrowed, and their hungry gazes turned to fear. She saw the way they recoiled from her, the hesitancy to even look at her, and the bone-deep trembling of their hands, which drifted to the handles of their knives.
Swallowing hard, she held her hands up and took a step away from all of them. “I’m not using magic. Just asking around for an old friend.”
“A friend?” The largest man in the group chuckled. “Callum doesn’t have friends. Definitely not friends like the castle.”
The castle? How did he know she was from the castle?
Regardless, she couldn’t leave now. They clearly knew Callum, and she needed to learn where he was. If she could just speak with him, maybe all this would make sense. Maybe he had been blackmailed, or didn’t think Leon would actually kill her mother. There had to be an explanation.
Hesitantly, she said, “I just need to speak with him.”
The man she’d seen before loomed above her. “Ain’t no place for witches in the Factory District.”
“I’m not a witch.”
He sneered. “Sure look like one to me. Don’t you remember what I said about what we do to witches here? Poor little thing. I wonder what your screams sound like.”
He hated being here, of all places, but he was rather embarrassed about their kiss. It had been centuries since he’d kissed anyone, and he’d forgotten how awkward it became to actually see the person that he’d kissed.
What did he say? Was he supposed to do it again? Elric had spent far too many years alone to know what was the right choice. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so much anxiety about seeing someone again.
Jessamine was more than someone who was using him. He could feel deep in his bones that she didn’t see him as another tool in her arsenal. She spoke to him like he was a person. Like he meant something to her.
He had not yet learned how to converse with her without feeling his entire soul soften.
It was a dangerous game he played. Like he was moving his finger over an open flame, thrilled at first that there was no pain, but every pass over it was getting slower and slower. Soon enough, he’d burn himself.
Blowing out a breath, he wandered through the darkness and tried to slow his mind. He needed to be clearheaded. There were many ways for this to go wrong. She would eventually want to sacrifice him. That was the first issue. Every witch eventually fell to the desire for power.
Sybil would do it. He’d seen it in her eyes the first time he’d replenished her power. She would want to kill him, eventually, and that meant he had to keep an eye on her, no matter how much Jessamine trusted the woman.
All of their journey, every step of the way, had been reliant on Jessamine’s trust. And she offered that out to anyone who was mildly kind to her.
