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“I’m looking for someone,” she repeated to the girl, staring up through her lashes.
Only then did the young woman turn toward Meira. The woman’s shoulders hunched at the sight of her, recognition of a scale rider or possibly just the loss of a nice tip from a man who looked as though he came from money despite his crumpled and slightly bloodied clothes. “Then you’ll be needing Kindred.” She turned on her heel and headed straight for the counter where another woman tended.
Meira looked to Remis, those eyes still locked on hers. She sighed, dramatically. “What?”
“You’re a mystery to be solved, Wolf.”
A mystery she didn’t want him to figure out.
“Wolf?” She arched a brow.
“You call me rabbit. I’ll call you wolf.”
Meira held his gaze, refused to look away, to back down from this man who was just as much a mystery to her, though she’d never tell him that. When she’d sat forward, she’d meant to grab their server’s attention and to appear confident, bordering on powerful; what she hadn’t meant to do was put herself that much closer to Remis. Her heartbeat ticked upward, feeling more and more like the flap of a hummingbird's wings inside her chest. Then her gaze inadvertently slipped down to his full lips. She knew he’d caught her in the act as a cocky smile broke out across his face.
“What are you in the market for?” A weathered voice broke the thrall Meira had felt herself go under. She straightened and looked away from Remis, willing the dark tempting idea of kissing him to go away. Frizzy gray hair framed the face of the woman who’d tended the bar and was now standing in their corner, a rag tossed over her shoulder, and a scowl worsening the wrinkles on her face, while the younger woman stood only a foot behind her.
“What does it cost for you to keep a secret? I don’t want my inquiries getting far.” Meira did her best to sound bored.
“Cost you nothing but the truth,” Kindred answered, looking back at the other woman. “Stauci, get these two drinks on the house.” Then she dragged another chair over from the nearest table and sat herself across from Meira. This woman hadn't so much as given Remis a sliver of her attention. She must recognize Meira as her prime customer now. “I make my living off of things best kept secret from the wrong set of ears. Whatever or whoever you’re seeking is a conversation that stays at this table.”
The younger woman, Stauci, was already back, two wine glasses in hand, eyes wide. She set them down on the table then scurried away toward the bar.
“Drink.” The woman gestured to the wine before pulling the towel from her shoulder and laying it across her lap. “This is from one of our finest bottles, brought out for an occasion such as this. You’ve picked an odd time to come visit our little town, yet with the influx of visitors for the holiday, I doubt you’ll be easily noticed.” Her eyes narrowed. “The uniform won’t help you go unnoticed though.”
Remis had already picked up his glass and was swirling the contents around. He brought the drink to his nose and sniffed delicately before smiling and taking a drink. Compared to Remis, Meira felt entirely out of place drinking something that was likely so expensive. She didn’t spin the wine around or breathe it in at all before taking a massive gulp.
“I’m not afraid to be known as a scale rider.” The wine hit her belly and made her delightfully warm. She took another swallow. “There are rumors of this village, you know.”
The woman smiled. “Those are the rumors that keep my particular set of clientele coming here in the first place, but why would a scale rider be interested in those rumors?”
Because I’m more than a scale rider. I’m a witch, Meira thought, nearly letting the words spill right out of her. They were there at the tip of her tongue wanting to be said. She pressed her lips together, holding them back. She’d need a little more liquid courage to get her through this. She gripped the stem of the glass so hard, she thought she might break it but swallowed the last of its contents back.
“You’re supposed to savor it,” Remis said quietly, taking another baby taste. His glass was already halfway to empty anyway.
“I’m looking for a witch.” She ignored Remis and the desire to smack his pretentious attitude right out of his body.
“And what happens if you find this witch? Scale riders don’t typically like witches if I recall correctly. Don’t they often hunt them?” The woman drummed her fingers on the table, still smiling as she looked between her and Remis.
“Yes,” Meira answered, surprised by how quickly the answer had come tumbling out of her. Scale riders had joined forces with Emperor Grandith all those years ago out of desperation to relieve what was once the Titerian Kingdom of its power. Now they served under his son who continued the man’s legacy and encouraged the hunting and killing of witches. They hadn’t ever been assigned to a mission to find or kill one, at least not as far as Meira could remember, but there was gossip of scale riders stumbling upon covens or witches hidden within cities and brutally murdering them. Amongst the riders, it was bragging rights. Hearing that had always made her sick.
“Mayb—” The word got stuck in her throat. “May—” Air was snatched from her lungs as she tried to force the lie out. She’d only wanted to seem as though she held some of the power here, to act as though she was more than the scared little witch that fled from her village all those years ago. But her ‘maybe’ wouldn’t come out.
Remis patted her on the back. “Are you okay?”
Meira gripped the table so hard the wood groaned. “What did you do?” she snapped.
The woman leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other watching Meira with a flicker of delight. “I told you it would cost you the truth. Don’t worry the serum will wear off in about ten hours or so.”
24
Remis
His glass, practically empty at this point, would not be touched again. The drink was heavy and warm in his stomach sending a fuzzy sensation through his veins. The back of his throat stung as though he’d swallowed a bee and his tongue suddenly felt like sandpaper.
Truth serum. A witch’s concoction and he’d drunk it down thinking it was some well-aged wine. Horror struck him first when the woman who sat with them had said it. His witch’s face reflected much the same. Her lowered brows and twisted frown gave way to the sheen of fear in her eyes and her full lips parted on a trembling breath.
Her full beautiful lips. The bottom half of her mouth was so rounded all he could think about was taking a bite.
