Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

29. Citrus Rain

Chapter 29

Citrus Rain

MORIA

Beer stained the table as it sloshed from my cup, coating it in a sticky residue. Raising it to my lips, I swallowed the bitter liquid as it coated my mouth in its piss-poor taste.

Naexi raised her glass, her hand cupping around her lips as she yelled at the woman behind the counter. “Another round!” She burped, sliding the empty mug across the table.

The barkeep grumbled as a waitress brought another round, her chest barely concealed by her white top as she leaned over the table. “Pay up,” she said, her hand splayed out to Naexi.

Naexi huffed, but pressed three coins to her delicate skin. “Two for payment and one for you.” She winked.

The woman’s eyes widened, heat creeping into her cheeks as she whispered something into her ear. A smile crept across Naexi’s face as she tugged at the woman’s chin. “Room 7.”

I grimaced as I shoved my mug into my face, blocking out the giggling from the woman.

“Did you forget we have a job to do?” I muttered once the woman left.

“Did you forget what it means to be silent?” Naexi grumbled, her hands wrapping around the handle as she quickly tossed the amber liquid back.

“Iyanna said this mission cannot fail and I highly doubt she would approve of your drunken stupor.”

Naexi slammed the mug onto the table, amber sloshing over the sides. “Fuck you. You have no right to talk about her as if you know her.”

“And you’re drunk,” I hissed back. “What if the meeting happens tonight and you’re like this?”

“Shut up,” Naexi grumbled. “We’ve only been here for a few days. Plus, I am far… from drunk.”

I raised a brow as Naexi burped again, her hands gripping the table’s edge to keep upright.

“Yeah, and I’m the problem.” The pungent liquid sent a dull vibration through my chest. Three days of scouting with nothing. Not a hint or sight of any rebel in all of Gendry.

“You are,” Naexi said, her words slurring together. “You were supposed to come here alone. Now I’m stuck babysitting an arrogant asshole.” She reached for her mug, but her fingers grabbed air as I tugged it toward me. Her eyes narrowed, her head wobbling as she leaned over to catch it.

“What happened to the perfect angel from camp?”

Naexi swiped at the mug, but my fingers were faster as I poured the remaining ale onto the floor.

She growled, her hands curling against the thick wood. “Buy me another.”

The ale swirled my vision and words as I crossed my arms over my chest. “No.”

“Buy me another,” she ground out, her fist pounding against the table. “I don’t need to answer your questions.”

“Yet you have time to drink and flirt, which makes what?” I held out my fingers. “ Three women you’ve pursued over the past few days. Shouldn’t you be spending your time collecting information?”

Naexi rose to her unstable feet, her thin frame rounding the table as her blonde hair fell over her eyes, dulling their caramel color. “I’m not Iyanna’s bitch.”

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, exposing the skin beneath. She’d chosen to wear a fitted shirt, her shoulders and collarbones exposed to the chilling air—a statement to make in the nearing winter.

“But you’re close enough to run errands for her without compensation?”

Thick lulls of music caressed my ears as the tavern band began anew. A chorus of violins and cellos echoed against the wooden walls, chiming against the conversation.

Naexi stumbled, her fingers gripping onto my loose shirt. Her breath reeked of citrusy yeast enough to churn the stew I’d eaten earlier. “You know nothing.”

Her fingers uncurled from the fabric as she readjusted her top. Her mouth parted, the ale telling secrets I knew she would regret in the morning. “Iyanna recruited me to keep Kaydn in place.” She laughed to herself.

“You know he’s a royal High Fae prince pretending to be a commoner, right? Hells, he even calls himself an assassin when he gave himself that title. He never earned it and honestly”—her eyes flicked to mine—“he’s terrible at it. Sure, he’s valuable with a sword in his hands, but without Iyanna’s help, that caster would still be in prison without her orchestrating the entire thing,” she muttered. “Even worse his mother was a mere Noble Fae not born into one of the Four Houses. She was blessed with extraordinary beauty, that’s it.”

The violin squeaked as the inexperienced musician broke a string, sending a crescendo of harrowing notes echoing in the tavern.

“Then she sends me with you, a mere slave from Galar.” Her head lulled to the side. “The gods must be against me,” she cried.

A few patrons glanced at Naexi, their eyes narrowing at her spoken words. Words she expressed loudly over the dying music.

The musician turned bright red as a patron tossed ale onto the stage, coating him in yellow liquid. The musician tossed his violin to the stage before a fury of fists punched the man who had thrown his beverage onto him. Others soon joined in on the fray.

Laughing, I tossed an arm around her, lifting her from the wooden bench. “Like you know any High Fae princes,” I said above the crowd.

A few onlookers observed Naexi, their snickers and sneers a sigh of relief. They had to equate her words to drunken vomit as they turned their heads to the fight—a blessing in disguise.

“Come on. Let’s go to the inn,” I said, pulling her gently against me as we headed for the tavern door.

Naexi shoved her shoulder into my soft flesh, a groan escaping my lips. Even intoxicated, her hits landed. “I have a date.”

“You have a date with the bathroom,” I answered, keeping her head low as we exited into the crisp air.

Crinkling my nose, I hauled Naexi against me. The lights of the tavern illuminated our backs as we stepped further and further away from the chaos.

The inn rested a few stones away, but her constant shoving made it seem hundreds of stones away. Stepping over a pile of mud, I imagined her face coated in the substance.

Another flail of her arm struck my stomach as I huffed, holding her tighter against me as we kept a hasty pace. “Stop fighting. You nearly exposed everything.”

“No rebels were there.” Her face turned a shade green as I walked faster, the inn in sight. The streets were mostly empty, allowing for easy passage from one place to another.

Soon, rain would be upon the town. Thick clouds of gray covered the sky’s expanse, drowning the starlight’s flickers. It constantly rained in Gendry due to the wet and humid climate.

My nose wrinkled, and the smell of wet musk and yeast intensified as Naexi emptied the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

And onto my boots.

Nausea curled around my nose as I flung a hand over it to prevent the stench from penetrating further. Naexi retched again, the sound jarring in my ears. She wiped away the excess liquid from her lips with her hand. “The bathroom sounds good now.”

Naexi sprawled on the faded comforter, her forearm covering her eyes. Her skin’s slight green tint had faded to a dull yellow at least.

The room reeked of citrus, remnants remaining in the bathroom. The rest of the room was plain, with two twin beds resting against the wall and a bathroom attached with a singular toilet and sink. It was a suitable room fit for two traveling rebels or assassins. I wasn’t sure what to call us… call me either.

“Stop groaning,” I muttered as I rolled under the thin material they considered a comforter. The pillow ached against my head, the material as hard as the stone flooring of my prison cell. It provided little comfort to my already growing headache.

“You’re too loud,” she mumbled.

I pressed my face deeper into the pillow, but the sounds of her groaning flooded my ears. Along with sporadic thuds behind the wall, increasing in tempo?—

“Should have been me.”

I huffed, tossing the quilt back from my legs. “You would have vomited all over her if I’d let you go. Not to mention announcing to the whole tavern you’re working with a prince.”

Naexi grew silent. Her blonde hair stuck to her sickly face, beads of sweat dripping from her temples.

“Is it true, though? A High Fae prince is working with you?”

Naexi grumbled, ale still clutching onto her words. “Yes. Kaydn is one of Iyanna’s informants.”

“Was he at the Hideaway?”

“No,” Naexi answered. “He was on the same mission in Laias.”

“Wait, Laias? He’s the informant with the caster?”

Naexi pursed her lips together, a muscle ticking in her jaw. “If you repeat this to anyone, my hand won’t hesitate to release the blades at my disposal.”

“We have to go back,” I blurted. “I have to be there for her.”

“Her?” She slowly lifted herself onto her elbows, her head propped against the pillow. “The caster? You know her?”

“Classified information,” I mocked.

“I let it slip Kaydn is working with us. You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing.”

Naexi rubbed a sore spot along her shoulder. “You owe me a beer, at least. Let alone the date I missed tonight due to your insistent holier-than-thou attitude.”

“You brought it upon yourself.”

Thunder rolled in the background as rain splattered against the window, pelting the wood and glass.

“Indulge me once, Moria. There is nowhere I can go, and I desperately need a story. I fear I may turn green again if I leave this bed.”

Indeed, her cheeks puffed—green returning to her complexion.

Wind rattled the shutters as rain poured from the heavens, covering the land in its winter blessing.

I drew a long breath before my lips pressed together. Maybe the rain or the ale coursing through my blood had me talking.

Lightning cracked in the distance, its light bleeding around the room as I told her of the hardships we’d endured in the prison.

Naexi swore, low and filthy once I finished. “Fae pigs. Did they at least die?”

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. “I… I still remember every touch, every lingering gaze, every unholy word said about me in that prison, but in a world as cruel as this, forgetting is a luxury I’ll never have the opportunity to have.” I’d spoken too much as thunder shook the room, brilliant shatters of light flashing.

I’d never forget the horrors I’d endured in those cells. Never forget the stench of men in those guest chambers—of the vile things they made me do for scraps of food.

Whether ale or sleep loosened her tongue, Naexi spoke bright and true as she said, “If one of those guards crosses the path of my fate, I’ll stain it with their blood.”

The shutters banged in reply. It reflected in her eyes—hatred. Hatred toward the guards who had defiled me in darkness. Stinging pricked my eyes as I shifted my gaze toward the peeling ceiling.

Clearing my throat, I rubbed my eyes, a few silver droplets staining the bed. “What of you, Naexi? What story of yours brought you to Iyanna?” I needed a change in topic—anything to minimize the attention.

“It’s nothing as gloriously depressing as yours,” she said. “Orphaned by the war, I spent much of my time flitting through cities and towns looking for work as a teenager. I worked most of my life as a barkeep until early womanhood when Iyanna stumbled into it. She made me a proposition I couldn’t refuse. A warm bed, a place to eat, and a place to seek revenge.”

I stayed silent for a moment. “You were an orphan?”

Naexi huffed. “Everyone lingers on it, but yes, I was an orphan.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“Not sure. I don’t have fond memories of them. Either they died during the rebellions, or they abandoned me. I don’t care.”

I scoffed. “I understand.”

“Daddy issues?” Naexi mused.

I huffed a laugh. “Let’s say my father was the reason I ended up in prison at the ripe age of thirteen.”

Naexi whistled low. “Maybe the paths of fate will intertwine with him as well. Provide you closure.”

“I don’t need closure. I need him dead.”

Her grin was feline as she slid her arms under the pillow. “Maybe I misjudged you, dishkeep, because you have the same look in your eyes as mine.”

Adjusting the pillow, I watched rain droplets race against the glass. “Maybe next time, don’t toss rotten potatoes into my soup.”

“A little rot is fine,” Naexi purred. “Helps give it a bite.”

Maybe I had some rot to myself after all. Maybe all these years I had let it fester and bubble, collecting into the rage I held onto. The rage that decapitated the sentinel who’d killed Ellia.

Naexi yawned, loud and unabashed in the dim lighting. “Tomorrow, we hunt the rebels for real.”

“No more vices?” I teased.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” she purred. “What about you? What vices spur you on?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing you can offer except your silence. It’s late, and I am tired.”

Naexi grumbled, her words mumbling together as she sunk further into the thick pillow. “Be glad I am drunk. Otherwise, I’d silence you with my fist.”

“I’d love to see you try,” I said as I buried my head into the pillow to hide the corners of my lips. This woman maybe wasn’t so horrible.

Naexi flipped me off, a chuckle escaping from my chest before the wind and rain kicked up speed, drowning the world in a blanket of gray.

Thalia would be heading toward the Hideaway soon. A burden lifted from my chest. She remained safe for the time being.

A surge of nausea hit me as the smell of citrus penetrated my nose. Naexi bent over the bed, the horrid sounds filling the room, but this time, I joined her.