Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,10

he had just vacated next to the fireplace.

Trembling as though he were a newborn calf, the man did so. His eyes continued to dart around, one of them not quite as fast as the other, giving him a rather dull look.

“Would you like a drink?” Lazarus didn’t wait for a response as he poured another glass and handed it over. Without much of a choice, Caine took the amber liquid and stared at it with wary trepidation, then sipped until he gagged.

Lazarus hid a smirk behind the rim of his glass as he took a long swig. “I called you here, Caine, because I know you’re a smart man.”

“Sir?”

“Were you aware that you had a criminal living at the amphitheater?” Lazarus asked. Caine’s eyes stopped bouncing, and Lazarus nodded. “Yes, just today I saw a girl that nearly beat a man to death in the marketplace.”

Caine’s trembles lessened the more he sipped his drink. “Oh?” he said, less shaky this time.

“I was quite surprised to see that same woman in your show tonight,” Lazarus stressed the word ‘your,’ watching for the other man’s reaction. “They’re offering quite a sum for the person who gives them any information regarding her whereabouts.”

“It’s not m—” Caine stopped himself, pausing as he thought something over. “They are?” he asked instead.

Lazarus nodded. “I assumed you didn’t know,” he said slowly. “That you hadn’t heard.” Lazarus knew he had. Everyone had heard about Quinn’s little episode.

“No, I had no clue,” Caine lied. “Who did you say this was, again?”

Lazarus couldn’t stop the cruel smile that graced his lips for a brief moment. But he needn’t have worried. Caine was too busy thinking of the monetary opportunity Lazarus knew he would take full advantage of.

“I believe she was introduced as Mirior.” He laid the groundwork to see that the right chain of events happened. To do what he saw as best for all parties involved.

Caine nodded, draining the last of his spirits and teetering on his feet as his stood up too quickly. “Thank you, sir, for the information. I will make sure to pass this on.”

Lazarus stood as well and led the man to the door. “I’m sure you will,” he said as he turned the knob and showed the man out. “I’m sure you will.”

The door clicked shut and Lazarus’ eyes glanced towards the envelope sitting on his bedside table. It carried the seal of one of the only men he still respected in this world. But Lazarus didn’t have time to respond to Claudius at the moment. He knew what that letter contained and if he opened it, solidifying his suspicions, he would have to leave before he could procure what he came to Dumas for.

And Lazarus wasn’t willing to leave without the girl.

Cimmerian Skies

“Never leave anything to chance. Few Gods are as fickle as Lady Luck.”

— Quinn Darkova, former slave, wanted fugitive

Quinn woke with a startle. Morning light poured through the small window that hovered over the loft. She blinked twice and stretched her tired limbs. Sleep hadn’t come easy after her encounter with the strange man from the market. Dreams of black tendrils and dark desires mixed together in a hazy recollection that she was rapidly forgetting the longer she laid there.

Wasting no time, she slipped out of the lumpy bed and half slid, half climbed down the ladder to the main area of her dressing room. She pulled on her worn leather pants, bending at the knees to work them all the way up. A quick glance in the mirror told her that her mass of silver-white hair needed to be tamed. Left wild and unruly, she’d attract too much attention. Braiding the strands back as quickly as possible, Quinn searched for her discarded boots and began to ready herself for the coming journey.

Three books, a black opal, the papers that proved she was a free woman—despite her remaining brands—and ten pieces of silver were all the worldly possessions she held. If it wouldn’t draw so much attention, Quinn may have considered taking the stage clothes she performed in and selling them off in the market. But as it was, she was running late, and the amphitheater would be too packed to sneak out something so large. She’d have to make do.

With her items stowed away in her handmade satchel, Quinn walked out of her dressing room and didn’t look back. All she could do was go forward.

“She has silver hair and blue eyes—you can’t miss her,” Caine was saying to