8. Chapter Eight

I considered myself a man of many talents, but if there was one thing that I was particularly good at, it was remaining unseen. Whether I was bustling about the night markets amidst throngs of people, wandering alone with my thoughts in broad daylight, or taking a midnight stroll through the Wyldwoods, it didn’t matter. If I wanted to disappear—I could.

Which is why, when some stunning little thing breezed past me in the Market District first thing on a Monday morning, her head buried deep within the pages of a book, it was easy enough to step back into the Shadows and give chase in silence, sight unseen.

Her curves had been enough to set my head on a swivel, but there was something else about her that woke up a certain hunger, the prowling hunter in my veins that had been dormant for the last few weeks.

Who was she?

I had been too busy as of late to feed that borderline predatory thirst that arose from time to time, that familiar, carnal craving. Because to seduce? To charm and capture the willing, where the only reward is reciprocal pleasure? That was my personal drug of choice. And I desperately needed a hit off the woman who had just walked past me, smelling like citrus and sunshine.

I couldn’t quite place the reason behind the immediate desire. Her shoulder had brushed mine as she passed, just barely—not that she’d seemed to notice. Was it that summery scent she left behind? I mean sure, she had a very appealing figure, but I had hardly even caught a glimpse of her face as it was shrouded in lengthy, dark brunette waves. If she held that damned book any closer to her face, her nose might have touched the page.

I may have been a man addicted to the chase, but the chase rarely found me first. I hadn’t been looking for a distraction just yet though. I was still working.

You’ve got time.

I followed the sound of her footsteps.

She had a calm, confident gait, which suggested she either knew where she was going—someplace familiar, I’d wager—or that she had her mind set on some particular task she knew she could accomplish. Perhaps both.

The pretty little thing didn’t put her book away once as she walked down the old cobblestone road, barely looking up as strangers walked past. She appeared to have a solid sense of her surroundings, weaving around anyone or anything in her way—though not keen enough to realize she was being followed. That was fair. Most wouldn’t.

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” I heard the woman murmur under her breath, her voice soft, melodic—and clearly quite frustrated.

If I wasn’t already intrigued, that wicked tongue would have caught my attention any day.

A quick glance towards the inside of her left wrist was all I needed to glean the basics—the dark-haired woman was a Conduit, and a fairly new one at that. The sigil of entry was still vibrant and fresh, with a sheen that would fade in time. In order for it to be that fresh, though, she had to be a part of the newest cycle of freshlings: a class of about two hundred or so.

Despite having her head buried in that book, she was making a careful beeline northeast, so she must’ve been heading towards the Biblyos.

The quarter hadn’t started yet—the courses would begin in a few days. This one was clearly a bookwyrm already. Either she was meeting someone in the Academic Quarter, or she was getting a headstart on her coursework.

Or maybe she just liked books.

I quickened my pace in an effort to get ahead of her for a different view, curious as to what she was reading that had her cursing in annoyance. Ah. An Introduction to Arcane Theory.

Really?

Even I had read that one, and it wasn’t particularly complex. I was fully prepared to make some snap judgments on the woman’s intellect levels if an entry level textbook was enough to piss her off, but my mind went blank and my mouth went dry the very next moment—when I actually got a decent look at her face.

Fucking Hel.

A pair of wide, golden-brown eyes glanced towards the clock tower at the center of the city. Thick, dark lashes encircled them both, but even they could not block the mid-afternoon sun streaming through the skies, rendering her irises a stunning shade of gold—like liquid honey. A light smattering of freckles ran across her nose and cheekbones, contrasting with pale skin that was ever-so-slightly sunkissed. And good gods, that mouth. That mouth was going to get me into trouble.

She had full, soft looking lips that were so deeply pink that they almost looked freshly bitten—a thought that sent a strange surge of envy through my veins. Whatever had irritated her just a moment ago must have faded from her mind, because now those lips were now parted slightly with the corners upturned in a hint of a smile.

What little semblance of chivalry I had promptly flew out the window as I watched the tip of her tongue run across her lower lip—and my thoughts took a turn for the needlessly inappropriate. It was just dry outside, and hot as Hel today. But gods be damned, I wanted to be the one tasting those lips instead.

I needed a plan of action. I was just about to step inside to follow her when I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

“Captain Vistarii!”

Some bright-eyed recruit was nearly shouting at me from a few feet away, short of breath as they caught up. “Commander Ka has requested you return to the office as soon as possible. There’s been an update on the Jerricks case.”

I groaned internally. This investigation was too important to push aside in favor of getting my cock wet, and if said update was confidential enough to send a courier straight to me over a falcon or a mail sprite, I needed to get my ass in gear.

“Very well,” I sighed. “I’ll be in momentarily.”

As I stepped back into the Shadows, I couldn’t help but laugh at the look on that poor recruit’s face. The moment he’d glanced away, I was gone without a trace. Most of my men were accustomed to that—I was the Captain of Scouting amp; Reconnaissance for a reason. The fresh blooded courier just looked dazed and confused as he searched the crowd.

Back to work, it is.

My prey would have to wait.

For now.

As it turns out, the “update” in the Jerricks case was simply that we had heard back from Lord Zephirin of the House of Gales. Vindyrst had set a bounty on the heads of any individuals involved with the missing boy, but had yet to receive any sort of response, or request for ransom.

“That’s it?” I asked, running my hand through my hair, still out of breath. I might’ve rushed along the way back, eager for any sort of break in this case.

“Apologies, Kieran,” Hanjae said. “I was just going to send off a mail sprite, but the recruit—Kraiggson, I think his name was? He volunteered to deliver the message himself. I think the kid’s got a little bit of a hero worship thing going on with you.”

A hero worship thing? I wasn’t a fucking hero.

I sighed. “I don’t know what to make of any of this, Commander. It’s like these kids are disappearing into thin air, and it shouldn’t be that godsdamned easy to get away with something like that.”

“I know. The only upside to this has been the amount of flesh traders and blood cultists who have been caught in the crossfire. I know you and your men are spread thin right now, Vistarii, but you’re doing excellent work. The realm is safer thanks to your efforts.”

It was the least that I could do. My commander, the Elder Guard, the city of Sophrosyne, and even the Elders themselves—they had all earned my loyalty a long time ago.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“I know that you’re a lost cause, Kieran, but please make sure that your men are taking breaks.”

“They do. Hey, speaking of—who manages the schedules for grunt work these days?”

Hanjae raised a brow. “Rorick, I believe. Why?”

“Eh, Deering’s getting a little too big for his britches,” I lied smoothly. “I lost a bet to him recently, and want to make him pay for it.”

Hanjae rolled his eyes.

“You’re dismissed,” he said sternly. Whether my commander liked it or not, though, I could detect a glimmer of entertainment in his expression as I left.

I swung by Rorick’s desk on my way back to my office and penciled myself as well as a small handful of my men down for an upcoming round of guard duty for entry-level student lectures in the Wyldwoods.

It had been a while since any of our upper level officers had set a good example for the recruits who normally got tasked with this easy work, and as boring as it was, I knew my lieutenants wouldn’t really mind. Even if they did suss out my ulterior motives.

Almost every new Conduit ended up taking Larkin’s introductory courses within their first few quarters, and if I was lucky…

I might just catch myself a pretty little bookwyrm.