Page 40 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

Gale sucked in a breath, his words slurred but urgent. “Let’s go inside⁠—”

“Oh, I’m not sharing you with other people,” Lirion said, acting demure as he slipped the instrument back into his pocket. “Come with me. I know the perfect spot.”

Between the alcohol and Lirion’s persuasion spell, it didn’t even occur to the hero to argue. He gave a dumb nod and followed Lirion right off the porch of the building, along the side, and into the alley in the back. Lirion would periodically turn and walk backward, making sure Gale still followed without hesitation. He ran his hands down his chest, putting extra sway in his hips. Gale was completely lost in a haze of lust.

No one else was in the immediate area, but this was too close for Lirion’s comfort to where Gale had left the other heroes. He wanted Gale completely separated from his companions.

Lirion led him on a short three-minute walk toward the market district and stopped just shy of it—still within the realm of the red-light district, but right on the border. Now that was perfect.

Turning, he caught Gale by the shoulder and “playfully” shoved him against the wall. Gale laughed, going without fuss, although he tried to grab Lirion and haul him into a kiss. Lirion would rather cut his own lips off than kiss this asshole.

He put a hand against the man’s chest, partially to ward him off, but also partially to pump an insane amount of magic into him. For Lirion, charming someone was as easy as breathing, and the human body was incredibly susceptible to it.

Gale shook under the force of his power, eyes glazing, his jaw going slack.

“Normally, I don’t use magic like this,” Lirion stated, no longer maintaining his seductive voice. His tone had hardened to the sharpness of broken glass. Gale was too far gone to notice much of anything around him. He certainly didn’t notice how Lirion had stopped flirting and now looked at him like he was a worthless, disgusting bug needing to be crushed under his boot. “I use it subtly while wooing my partner because that’s more satisfying and fun. But tonight, I don’t want sex—I want answers. Where’s my sister?”

“Sis…ter…” Gale tried to focus and kind of succeeded. His pale brown eyes were locked on Lirion’s face, at least. His gaze wandered up to where the cloth had fallen back from Lirion’s head. “Pretty pink hair.”

“Yes, she has it, too. Pay attention.” Lirion reached up and gave Gale’s scarred cheek a short, sharp smack. Not enough to break him free of the fog, but the sudden pain helped him focus. “Her name is Aria. Aria Windstrum. You met her on a party boat a month and a half ago. You bought an invitation to get on that ship. Who’s controlling the group she’s with and where did she go from there?”

Gale canted his head. “Her name is Aria?”

Lirion resisted the urge to snarl and break the man’s face. It was a near thing, though, a very near thing. He was slightly envious of how many times Fenric had hit Lance because he was aching to do the same to Gale.

This hero of the country only saw a vulnerable woman as a pretty set of tits and ass and didn’t even bother to get the name of the woman he was fucking?

It was so typical, this attitude. Lirion had been on the receiving end of it too many times to count. Still, it made him hate the heroes even more. The person who should have broken up that trafficking and sex ring had instead bought a ticket so he could join in. The injustice and irony of it stirred in Lirion’s gut like metal shavings churning in acid.

Swallowing his rage down, he insisted, “Where did that ship go?”

“North,” Gale muttered, still staring at Lirion as if he couldn’t pull two brain cells together long enough to figure out he was in trouble.

“Where?!” Lirion hissed.

“Baza.”

Shiiiiiit.

Lirion looked around him, nearly choking on the despair clogging his throat. His knees wobbled and he almost sat right in the middle of the alley, mindless of the filth and debris surrounding him. He was completely on the opposite side of the country from his sister. How would he even reach her…?

Shaking the distressing thought off for now, he tried to get more information. “Who’s in charge of the sex ring?”

“Count Pierres.”

“Fuck!” Lirion slammed a fist against the wall. Of course it was fucking aristocracy. Only they would treat people like chattel.

The pain in his hand felt like nothing compared to the anger coursing through him. Lirion felt like it was eating him up from the inside in fiery licks.

When Lirion had concocted the plan to bring Gale over here and get information, he’d honestly intended to just stick a knife in the man’s gut and call it good. But no, if the bastard died like that, he’d just get a hero’s funeral and no one would ever acknowledge what he had really done. Who he really was.

That was unpalatable to Lirion right now.

Hatred burned away any feelings of compassion. He wanted this man to suffer. He wanted to go back and make Lance and the other heroes suffer. They needed to be humiliated, thrown down from their pedestals and left in the gutter to be reviled by all who saw them. No chance of redemption.

A new idea sparked and Lirion didn’t pause to think it through, didn’t second-guess it, just went for it.

“Strip.”