thought to ask until this point. Maybe I’ve got super-low expectations when it comes to Aron, because I’m kind of flattered he actually asked. “I told you before. My name is Faith.”
“You told me before, but I did not care before.” When I scowl at him, he arches that scarred brow at me. “Faith does not sound like a regular name. What is next? Door? Boat?”
“Okay, okay. Let’s just focus on the task at hand, all right?” I tell him tightly, and turn back to glaring out at the water.
When the boat pulls up against the dock, people begin to peel away. We get off after them, Aron keeping close to me. I don’t know where to go at this point, so I pick someone that’s stumbling around and just follow him as he heads into the city itself. At night, it’s a lot quieter. The narrow streets seem a little wider and less mucky, and you can’t see how run-down some of the buildings are or how they all cluster together like they’ve fallen atop one another. Somewhere in the distance, a horse whinnies and another animal—a pig—snorts and grunts. I chew my lip, thinking.
“Where are we going?” Aron leans in and asks me, and I feel another shockwave go down my arm as he brushes against me. Overhead, thunder begins to rumble, a sign that Aron’s mood is turning south. That’s not good—he needs to keep that shit under wraps or he’s for sure going to give us away.
As we turn down another narrow street, I hear the sound of laughter and someone shouting, and I see a distant wooden sign hanging over a building with light spilling out of it. As we get closer, I see the picture’s one of a goblet. A few horses are tethered outside. Oh. An inn? That might be perfect. “We’re going there,” I tell him. Before he can say anything else, I point at the sky. “Might wanna get control of that or we’re not going to be hiding for very long, if you catch my drift.”
“As if I control that?” he states haughtily.
“Well it isn’t me doing it, so you’d better fucking try,” I snap at him. I know I’m being pissy, but I’m exhausted, scared, and I’ve had a chunk of my head ripped out tonight, all because of him. I’m tired of his shit.
He reels in surprise, and I realize he’s probably never had anyone talk back to him ever before. Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose. I don’t even regret it. I’m a little terrified that he’ll pull out that sword and kill me, but then at least I’d get some rest.
The thunder stops, and we glare at each other for a moment.
“That’s better,” I tell Aron.
His eyes narrow and he just stares at me. Slowly, he shakes his head. “You are not afraid of me at all, are you?”
I get goosebumps at that, wondering if this is the set-up for being eradicated by a god’s temper. Being a pain in the ass has got me this far, however, so I lift my chin. “Should I be?”
“I don’t know if I am amused or annoyed. I want to wring your neck and laugh at the same time. It is very curious.”
“Well, you didn’t ask for obedient volunteers, just volunteers,” I say, and I jump when he barks a laugh. It’s booming and almost as loud as the thunder. Still, I can’t find it in me to tell him to quiet down. I like his laughter.
We could both use a laugh after the night we’ve had and I’d rather have a laughing storm god than a murdering one.
I pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry your prelate tried to kill you.”
He grunts.
“Okay, we’re going to go into the inn.” I point at the sign. “I’ll ask around and see what kind of answers I can get. You just…blend.” I wave a hand at him.
He lowers his hood and arches a brow at me. “Blend?”
Right. He’s about one skin tone away from being albino, has the same scar the god does, and strange bi-colored eyes. Oh, and he’s unearthly handsome. “Hood up,” I say brightly. “Sit in the back of the room and try not to talk to anyone. Keep a low profile.”
“I should be the one asking questions while you blend. You look like all these other wenches.”
Prince Charming, he’s definitely not. I reach out and pull his hood back over his black, flowing hair. “Something tells