Namesake (Fable #2) - Adrienne Young Page 0,93

into the light, revealing combed chestnut hair over a youthful face. He looked me up and down. The Roth tattoo peeked out from beneath his rolled shirt sleeve.

“Do you have it?” Ezra didn’t waste any time.

I pulled my hand from my jacket pocket, holding it before him so he could see the gem merchant’s ring on my middle finger.

He shook his head, half-laughing. “How the hell did you get that?”

“Does it matter?”

The brown-haired young man smirked. “I told Henrik there’s no way you’d come through.” He stepped forward, extending a hand. “Murrow. You must be Fable.”

I stared at it, not moving, and he dropped it to his side.

“That makes me wonder if you held up your end of the deal,” I said, trying to read his face.

But behind him, Ezra was expressionless, his features smooth. “I did. But I covered my bases.” A group of men came out of the tavern’s side door, and Ezra watched them from the corner of his eye.

I slipped the ring from my finger and dropped it into his palm. He immediately pulled a monocle from his jacket and fit it to his eye, shifting away from me so that he could check the gem set into the ring. When he was satisfied, he dropped it into his pocket.

“I kept my end of the deal. Now it’s your turn,” I said, my voice hardening. “How do I know you’ll do what you promised?”

Murrow grinned, a spark lighting his eyes. “Guess you’ll have to trust us.”

West moved beside me, and before I even realized what had happened, he had his hands around Tru’s throat, dragging him toward us.

“West!”

Ezra and Murrow already had their knives drawn. Ezra lunged forward and froze when West pressed the tip of his knife to Tru’s throat. The boy’s eyes were wide, his face draining of its color.

“What are you doing?” I rasped.

I set my hand on West’s arm. Despite his cool exterior, I could feel the heavy pulse under his skin. I wanted to believe that it was a bluff. That he wouldn’t hurt a child. But looking into his eyes now, I wasn’t sure. This was the West my father had hired. The one he’d relied on.

“Here’s the problem.” West’s face was smooth. Tru thrashed in his arms, his scream muffled by West’s hand over his mouth. “I don’t trust you.”

A drop of beryl-red blood trailed down Tru’s neck, staining the collar of his clean white shirt. I watched West’s eyes. They were empty.

“So you take the ring. And we’ll take the boy,” West said. “You’ll get him back tomorrow. After the Trade Council meeting.”

“You’re not going anywhere with him,” Ezra said. His eyes jumped from West to Tru. He looked afraid, and I remembered that with the exception of Ezra, the Roths were family.

But there was something strange about him. Different from the light in Henrik or Holland or Saint’s eyes. He looked genuinely worried for the boy, and I realized that Auster was right. Ezra was cut from a different cloth. So, why was he still with the Roths?

“You saw him that night, didn’t you?” I asked, the words almost a whisper.

Ezra looked confused. “Who?”

“Auster. You saw him that night, but you pretended not to.”

The answer was in the way his eyes narrowed. Whatever his reasons, he’d let Auster disappear when he left the Roths. I could only hope that even a shadow of the same loyalty might extend to all of us.

“I’ll deliver the commission tonight.” Ezra spoke through clenched teeth. “You hurt him, or ever mention a word about this to anyone, and the cost will find you.” The threat was clear in the words. “You don’t want to step foot in Henrik’s shadow. Understand?”

“I understand.” I nodded, feeling the truth of the words cut deep. I could see that some part of him liked the mischief at play, but he wasn’t going to go down for me with Henrik or with Holland, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice the boy on their altar.

“You’ll be fine.” Now Ezra was speaking to Tru.

He pulled up the collar of his jacket before he slipped back into the shadows with the others.

The boy’s eyes widened, and he let out a terrified whimper when he realized they’d really left. I took hold of his jacket and yanked him from West’s hands, wrapping my arms around him protectively. “What the hell are you doing?”

West slipped his knife back into his belt. “We needed leverage. I took it.”

I wiped the blood from

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