Page 5 of Chasing the Night
She sucked air through her teeth and drank in the sight of them until her eyes were lust-glossed and a tune was being hummed. I tried to play it off. I wasn’t used to people looking at me the way that Reverie was. It was the first time I had seen a man up close, one my own age. I’d never noticed that men could have attractive asses. So, it clearly wasn’t my fault when my gaze gravitated back toward the men.
They were identical in features and shape. Their hair, however, was much different. Ender’s hair was neat in the back, but long and wild around his jaw. His twin wore his in a short professional style that scarcely left room for his dark hair to be combed, let alone played with. The more laid back of the two, Ender, made eye contact and ran his hand through the long length of bangs.
Fingers stung my arm, and Reverie’s high pitched, playful giggle erupted once more. “Stop it. If Atticus finds out he so much as shared air with another pretty, he swore to force union on the boy.”
Blazian’s towel snapped, causing Reverie to cry out when it bit into the thick upper section of her arm.
“Mind your own, child,” Blazian lulled, before shifting her eyes back toward the gate.
“Mind yours. Lest I tell Messiah you’re drooling over them fools.” Reverie spread the threat like jam, and she didn’t stop until Blazian had retreated behind the counter again.
A giggle announced her victory.
A drink turned into two, and before I knew it, I had missed lunch all together and still didn’t have a single sale to show for it. With the basket in hand, I excused myself into the crowd.
The wares, spices, and silk offerings inside the gate were breathtaking. None of the other towns in Rochambeau held a candle to the mountain itself when it came to quality and value.
I ran my hand over a vibrant swatch of fabric and smiled to the merchant, a clean woman with honest eyes. She briefly returned the gesture before returning her attention to the ruined garments scattered about her stall. Moths, I thought to myself before stepping closer.
“I beg your pardon,” I began when her eyes met mine again. “I have a remedy for that, if you are of a mind.”
From the basket, I retrieved a small satchel of rosemary, thyme and cloves. It wasn’t enough to serve her but would do as a sample.
“It smells wonderful.” She gently plucked at the strings, until they opened enough for her to look inside the leather bag. “But I’m not sick.”
I shook my head, gestured toward the ruined fabric and carefully explained, “It is a deterrent not a cure. It will keep the moths from nibbling on your fine wares.”
Her warm, soft fingers brushed against mine as she took the satchel from me and brought it back to her nose. While she did so, I took in the various patterns and textures she had on display. I couldn’t help but wonder, what it would feel like to have that expensive silk against my flesh? I’d never know the likes of that type of luxury, but a girl could dream.
“You’ll give me a good deal?” she finally asked.
I assured her I would, and we agreed to complete the sale on the morrow. I’d have my morning cut out for me, it seemed. Meanwhile, her coin jingled in my pocket with each step. It was a sound I wasn’t used to, but oh how I was starting to love it.
I could have cried for joy when I rounded the corner to discover a great building with long white banners draped down the front. A large red circle in the middle of the pristine length announced the building a surgery. Something about it being symbolic of a blood drop, that’s what my mother used to say.
Shaking the musings away, I climbed the steps and let myself inside. A stiff, slender woman in a pale pink dress sat at a desk in front of me. Her eyes cut left to right as if she expected someone to step forward and speak for me.
“Hello,” I said firmly.
She seemed annoyed that I was the only one present and might have even sighed before nodding in response. “What can I do for you? Are you late? You don’t look injured or ill.”
“Late?” I repeated. “No… I don’t have an appointment.”
Her face fell, and she sniffed as if she were taxed by the entire interaction. “Right… well, as I said, what can I do for you?”
I wanted to turn around and run. Confrontation was not something I did well. Instead, I took a deep breath and exhaled it on a smile. There was something to be said about faking it until you made it, and for reasons only the Fated Few knew, I did just that. My hand dropped down and I idly rapped my nails across the top of her desk, much the way I had witnessed Blazian do when the young men got too comfortable at the counter.
“I’m here to stock your shelves. If you don’t know what it is this facility needs, I have no time to be wasted for you to figure it out,” I proclaimed, using the same distinct speech I had picked up from the twin earlier.
Her face debated my words. If she called my bluff, I would never do business in town again. But oh, the coin I would reap if she didn’t. Her jaw flexed, and the crystal blue eyes widened before she yielded and tipped her head respectfully.
“Allow me to offer my apologies, Lady…?” she reached, ever so sly with her words, passively probing for my name.
“Don’t bother. I don’t have time to hear them.” I turned confidently, allowing the many dark vials to clank against each other amongst the sage bundles.
It inspired the woman to hurry off to the next room. From my vantage point, I could see her shuffling things around in a large cabinet.
Fated Few. It was working!