Chapter 23

When Remis was forced to breathe through his mouth he was a lot quieter on their travels. Meira wondered why she hadn’t thought to break his nose sooner. Eventually though, she’d found some small ounce of pity for him. They’d stopped by the river long enough to clean the blood from his face and she’d reset his nose with an ear-splitting crack. He’d paled and for a while, she thought he might vomit or pass out. Lucky enough for her, he did neither.

By the time they’d reached the next city, he was talking again. Though she continued to ignore him, only offering him silence in exchange for his thousands of questions, he treated it like some sort of game. The questions getting more personal and the answers he’d theorize and muse on his own more wild.

They passed through the village gates of Yordway, the guards who watched for dragonis as night fell waved at them curiously. Meira strolled forward, her face pink from the last crude thing Remis had said. For the last five minutes, he’d told her, in great detail, about the loss of his virginity. Of all the memories that could be forgotten she wished that story was one of them. She hadn’t liked hearing how some other woman had gotten to undress him, touch him, and make him feel any sort of way. More so, she hated that she cared enough not to like it.

Yordway was known to constantly be rumored for witches. Most travelers made a point to avoid the village altogether. Meira, however, had come in search of a witch. She’d remembered coming here a couple of times with her mother who had a friend here, but Meira had long given up hope that anyone she remembered had survived the emperor”s wrath. Still, Meira was quite rusty with her magic and she’d lost her teacher when she’d lost her parents. If she could find another witch, someone who knew more than her, they could get her memories back. Hopefully.

With Remis at her side, she assumed they would catch up with her faster or that his presence would jog her memory. Only it didn’t. When she’d slept those few hours, she hadn’t dreamed of anything. This curse that bound them was still as real and agonizing as it had been on the first day she’d woken.

Dusk was setting in on the village but lanterns were strung across the streets warding off the darkness. Evergreen foliage shaped into thick bushy wreaths hung on storefronts. Vibrant splotches of color came and went in a flurry of skirts as men and women made their way down the street arm in arm, slowing to entertain the vendors who’d begun to pull their carts onto the sidewalks.

“For the lovely lady?” With a gray beard grown long enough to touch his chest, an old man with grease-slicked hair stepped into their path. He held a single red rose in his wrinkled grasp and offered it to Remis looking between the two.

Fresh heat danced over Meira’s cheeks. “We are not a couple.” She glanced at Remis, certain he’d be as appalled by the idea as she was.

Instead, of blanching at the mention of them being something more, Remis smirked.

“But you could be,” the old man crooned.

“We could be,” Remis sang the words back, already digging in his pocket. There was a jingle of coins and then he held one out in his palm. She’d hardly blinked before the vendor had snatched the coin up and placed the flower in his hand. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Meira stomped forward, Remis strolling behind her with easy long strides. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look at that flower. She was supposed to hate him, want him dead…and she did…mostly, but her curiosity won her over every time she got close enough to work up the courage to run him through with her sword. The memories she knew consisted of heated glances, teeth, and tongue. He wasn’t entirely terrible to look at.

She dared a sideways glance in his direction. Remis twirled the rose gently in his hand, brought it to his nose, and breathed it in.

“For you.” He held the rose out to her, keeping her pace.

No one had ever given her flowers before. Bram didn’t give her gifts of affection and she’d not had parents or parental figures in several years to think of lavishing her with anything special.

Staring at the damn rose turned her annoyance into a hive of bees flying about in the pits of her stomach. Her heart did something weird in her chest. She hated it.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Meira snatched the flower from his hand only to crumple the petals inside her palm before letting the entire thing drop to the ground. For good measure, she crushed it under the ball of her foot as she passed.

“That,” Remis pointed at her, “was rude.”

She wanted to snarl, shake him, and scream at him to show himself as the monster he was supposed to be. She didn’t want to hate this man who listened to her sob story of the past and bought her flowers.

Meira needed to find another witch, someone with more experience, who could help her recover her memories. That’s why they”d come to Yordway in the first place. Though, with the decorations and the eager vendors, it would appear as if the citizens of this little village were setting up for something.

“You cannot flirt your way out of me killing you,” Meira snapped.

“That’s quite bold of you to say when you’ve not experienced the extent of my talents.” He was watching her with those night encapsulated eyes and a lazy smirk. The way the word talents hung between them suggested so much more.

She’d experienced his talents in another timeline. She’d had a taste of him.

“I am quite charming,” he added, leaning in just enough for her to scent the river on his clothes, the salt of his sweat, and a natural musk that was entirely him.

“I am not so easily swayed,” Meira managed to say, her tone the bored drone of apathy she’d intended even though her pulse began to thrum at his nearness.

Remis stared at her, a glitter of amusement in his gaze. “Give me ten minutes alone with you and I’m certain I can change your mind.”

By the Dragons. Her body tingled all over. “Ten minutes? Is that all?”

He barked a laugh and the sensation prickling her skin shot straight between her legs. “That’s all I’d need to sway you, but for you, my wolfish friend, I could go all night.”

Even her ears burned red hot now. She tried not to give him her attention and forced herself to look away with a shake of her head. The shops they passed finally gave way to homes. Modest houses only large enough to hold a small family and far from the ridiculous luxuriousness of Warlord Vigor’s mansion. Ribbons were wrapped around porch railings and more evergreen wreaths were nailed upon doors. A couple scurried from a house in a fit of giggles, racing hand in hand down the street toward the line of vendors Remis and Meira had only just passed. The pair slowed as they caught sight of Meira in her leathers, their smiles falling.

She sighed. What memories she had were quite clear, even the ones that stretched far back into her childhood. And if those memories served her, then they’d turn a bend and reach the town square. If a witch was hiding here, then she’d be hiding in plain sight. Dragons knew she always had. If you couldn’t run from your enemies, becoming one of them was just as good if you wanted to survive.

Around the next corner, the village square waited, a fountain shaped with the patient precision of two lovers wrapped in an intimate embrace at its center. The water that dripped from several carved holes in the statues had been dyed a terribly bright shade of red. It ran in rivulets down into the pool at the lover’s feet looking more and more like blood as Meira watched it.

More lanterns were strung above their heads, their various colors casting a rainbow of light all around them. People were already gathered here, many wearing those fluffy wreaths on top of their heads. She slowed as they entered the crowd. Somewhere amongst the celebration, someone ran a bow across their fiddle. Another musician plucked at strings of something larger, deeper sounding. It wasn’t music yet, just the preemptive tuning of instruments and the promise of dancing to come.

The buildings around the square all had their doors propped open, allowing people to come and go as they pleased. Meira stayed to the edge of the square, Remis’ presence at her back a mild comfort. She could lose him in this crowd. Yes, she was faster, but if she was tripping over these lavish gowns and rows of people, he’d get his chance. Then she’d be hunting again, hating the terrible pull of the curse.

The smell of freshly cooked turkey legs drifted by them. She swore she heard Remis’ stomach growl even over the start of the musicians’ first song. Cheers went up all around them, hands thrust into the air, wine sloshing over glasses. Meira hissed as mead was tipped and splashed onto the toe of her boot. A man with long black hair tied at the nape of his neck who’d spilled looked at her, his mouth opening, light gray eyes warm as though he meant to apologize. Yet when his gaze settled on her, drifting down her flight leathers, the corners of his mouth drooped down.

“What are you looking at, scale rider?” He laughed, spittle flying from his lips.

Meira drew up short, her legs no longer thinking of carrying her. Her brows pinched together. This wasn’t the first time someone had recognized her as a scale rider. The uniform was well known. However, that was the first time she’d been recognized while alone without the rest of her legion to have her back.

The empire’s dogs, that’s what scale riders were to Augustine citizens. Pets on a short leash, due no more respect than the mangy mutts loose on the streets. He wouldn’t be saying a word though if he was face to face with Mrithun.

“You’d do well to keep your mouth shut.” She pushed aside her cloak and let him watch as she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. He was a drunkard, eager for a fight, and she needed to keep a low profile. The man wore no weapons, at least none that weren’t somehow concealed. Even if he had something hiding under that tuft of pink material he wore, she doubted it would do much against her blade.

The mead on his breath was well-crafted, giving off a floral scent that covered most of the sour smell underneath. He blew a breath that ruffled the loose curls around her face. “Our village does not need the likes of you wandering around on a night like this.”

Her grip tightened on the hilt, but Remis placed a hand on her arm. “I think it’s best if we’re on our way. Excuse us.” He steered Meira away, putting pressure on her arm until she slid her weapon back into its sheath and was stalking forward.

“Good luck with your scale rider bitch!” The man’s voice rose after them. “I hope she’s at least a good fuck!”

Every muscle in her body tensed. She stopped abruptly, Remis’ momentum slamming into her back. The world didn’t have to like scale riders. They didn’t have to respect what they did, but no scale rider would tolerate the offense, the suggestion, that she was little more than a whore, and let them walk away.

Meira started to turn but Remis was there, his hands on her shoulders, hunching forward until they were eye level. “No…no.” His attention danced between her eyes. “He’s drunk, let him go, he does not know what he’s saying.”

“He knows,” Meira said through her tightening jaw. “He knows what hate he harbors in his heart and spews out into this world.”

She pushed against his hands but Remis held firm. “Why are we here?” he asked. “Why bring me to this village? What are we looking for?”

Meira closed her eyes. The crowd was moving around them again, music picking up into a healthy tune that made the air stir into a dance. Then there was her and Remis, still and quiet.

His hands, calloused and rough, despite his clear status, cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking against her. Her eyes snapped open; a familiar longing drawn up within her at his touch. She might not remember Remis as much as she should have, but her body remembered him. It reacted as it might to a lover, and she clamped down on the sensation warming in her chest.

Yanking herself out of his reach, Meira began through the crowd again, her determination renewed.

Find the witch. Remember.

The crowd was growing larger as the band played. People flowed out of the shops and businesses and into the village square to dance around the fountain. Music, conversation, the swish of liquid in glasses, the stomping of feet all mingled with the scent of food, sweat, and body odor until Meira’s skin began to crawl. Her shoulders were slowly rising to her ears and she had to fist her hands at her sides to keep from shoving her palms over her ears.

“Follow.” Meira managed to say, darting into the nearest building. Remis’ steps were quick and light behind her, keeping close as she weaved between tables and headed straight for the darkest corner of the room. Several patrons looked up from their drinks to watch as the scale rider darted across the tavern.

Shadows were a welcome reprieve as she dropped down into a wooden chair that groaned and wobbled at her weight. She pulled her hood up over her face breathing through the rush of overstimulation that threatened to drag her down.

Remis stood next to the table before Meira examining the stains on the wood with his hands planted on his hips. He frowned, looked over his shoulder, then pulled the chair out next to her and lowered onto it. “Interesting. I didn’t foresee you gutting me in a shitty little tavern in the middle of nowhere.”

The table to their left held a candle, nearly burnt to nothing, but its glow was just enough to outline Remis’ strong form. He leaned back in his seat, grimacing as it squealed at the motion. Dim light haloed his broad shoulders and Meira found her eyes lingering on the swell of his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m looking for someone,” Meira finally admitted. A tiny sliver of truth that lifted a fraction of the weight that sat on her chest. The relief was so pleasant that she considered for a moment telling him everything. She pressed her lips together, looking out across the room.

“And this person is in this musty tavern? Or…”

Young, smiling, and with her blonde hair pulled up high on her head, a woman approached their table. Her attention drifted between them but lingered longer on Remis. “Interested in a drink?”

Remis only watched Meira, never looking up at the woman though she had directed her question at him. His attention burned against Meira’s cheeks. She chose to ignore the sensation, certain the darkness would hide what coloring was born of the notion. The chair shifted, a threat of its possible collapse, while she leaned forward and set her folded hands on the table.

“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.”