Vengeance (The Captive #6)(64)

“We can trust him,” Tempest urged. “Believe me, we can.”

They both nodded, but he could see the uncertainty in their gazes as they surveyed him from head to toe and back again. Pallas’s gaze wasn’t admiring this time, but analytical when it settled on his face. Her head tilted to the side; her nose wrinkled as she planted her hands on her hips.

“If you think so,” she said to Tempest.

“I know so,” Tempest replied. “Have the fires been going since I left?”

“They started again last night,” Abbott said.

“How long do you think the men staying here will be gone?” William asked.

“At least a few hours, that’s usually how long they’re out anyway,” Pallas said.

Dropping the curtain into place, he turned toward Tempest. “I’m going to go out there and see what I can learn. Is there some place you can stay hidden, besides the basement?”

“I’m coming with you,” she protested.

“I’d prefer it if you stay here.”

Her chin jutted out and her eyes narrowed. “No.”

“I can move faster by myself.”

“I know this town far better than you. I can help you find what you need, and I can help you get away if it becomes necessary.”

“They may recognize you; the only one who knows me is Kane.” He could practically hear her teeth grating together as she tried to come up with a new argument for him.

“No one will recognize me, not in one of their cloaks and with my hair this color.”

“Tempest…”

“I’m not staying here, William. No matter what you say. I’ll only follow you out later if you try to leave me here”

He rubbed at the stubble already starting to line his jaw. She continued to stare defiantly at him with her shoulders thrown back and her eyes unwavering from his. “I don’t want you out there, it could be dangerous.”

“I could say the same to you.”

He released a snort of laughter. “You and my sister will get along well,” he muttered. “We’ll have to darken your hair again; the color has worn off a lot.”

She gave him a small smile. “Easy enough.”

“There’s some shoe polish in the closet in the hall. I’ll get it,” Abbott offered.

“Go and get the cloaks,” he said to her, unwilling to leave her here alone in case Kane or the others came back.

“I will.” She hurried from the room.

His attention was drawn back to the window when a line of horses rode into view. There were at least thirty vampires out there, all riding tall in the saddle. He struggled to recall the last time he’d sent word back to Aria that he was still alive. It had been before Chester, but he couldn’t remember the exact number of days. He couldn’t allow her to start searching for him, couldn’t allow her to enter into this town unprepared. He knew she would wait only so long before she hunted him down, he had no doubt about it.

He believed he had at least seven days before Aria started looking for him, but time had become a blur in his mind. It would be enough time to get free of this town again. He could feel Pallas’s gaze burning curiously into his back, but he didn’t look at her again. He had no answers for any of her questions.

“Here.” His attention was pulled from the window when Abbott arrived again and handed out a tin of black shoe polish.

“This is going to make a mess,” he said as he took it from him. “Thank you.”

Abbott stepped away from him as Tempest reappeared in the doorway with two white cloaks draped over her arm. “Can you get me a towel?” he asked Abbott.

“Yeah.” Abbott walked out of the room as William unscrewed the top of the shoe polish. He dipped his fingers inside and dabbed some of the black polish on them before turning his attention to Tempest. “Put the cloaks on the couch for now.”

Tempest tossed the cloaks over the back of the couch and stepped toward him. He began to rub the shoe polish onto her hair, careful not to use too much, so he didn’t get it everywhere. Her silvery hair had become a deep brown color by the time he stepped away from her. The sable color emphasized her pale complexion and made her eyes seem nearly black, but there was no concealing her subtle beauty.

Sighing, he wiped his hands on the towel Abbott handed him. He gently ran it over her hair to wipe away any excess polish that would stain the hood of her cloak. The color had lightened by the time he was done, but it was still a chestnut color, and he was satisfied no more would come off her hair. Done, he handed the tin over for her to use on him.

“Not too much,” he told her as she dipped her fingers in and smeared it into his hair.

When she was done, she toweled his hair off and stepped away. “There’s no red left,” she sounded saddened by this as she put the top back on the polish and gave it to Abbott.

“Good.”

She stared at him before turning to Pallas and Abbott. “If they come back before us, open the curtains to let us know it isn’t safe to come inside,” she told them.

“We will,” Abbott promised and slipped the tin into his pocket.

“Is that woman still staying in the hotel?” William asked.

“Yes,” Pallas replied.

William lifted the cloak and draped it over his shoulders before pinning it at his throat. Tempest swung hers onto her shoulders; her fingers shook on her brooch. He took hold of her hands at her throat and slipped the pin from her shaking fingers. Her eyes searched his while he locked the pin into place.