Inked

better choice. Fleas—not so much.
    “Oh great gods, I want to say yes. I want you. But, no.”
    “Will Roche come back here?” I lowered my legs to the floor and stepped back, panting raggedly.
    Trillian reluctantly let go of me. It was then that I noticed he had a friend with him. Another Svartan, only with a well-trimmed beard. Stouter than Trillian, the man was leaning against the door frame, grinning. Yeah, we’d put on a little show, all right. I could see the amusement in his eyes.
    “Oh, he’ll be back,” Trillian said. “He left too many valuables here and he’ll want to make sure I didn’t steal them.”
    I swallowed my desire, trying to focus on the here and now. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
    Trillian rubbed his chin. “Right. I almost forgot. Sorry.”
    “I think I was just insulted,” the man said.
    “It wouldn’t be the first time. Camille, this is Darynal, my blood-oath brother,” Trillian said, laughing. “Darynal, meet Camille.” He sobered. “I’m calling on our oath here. If this woman needs help, she may ask you for your assistance—in my name.”
    The smile faded from Darynal’s face. He bowed to me. “Camille, consider me in your service. Whatever aid you need, I will do my best to provide. Whatever information you require, I will do my best to tell you.”
    Feeling like I’d just been made an honorary Svartan, I cleared my throat. I wanted nothing more than to forget about Roche and the astral and the Lady of the Mists, and go fuck Trillian’s brains out. But I managed to gather my wits and get back to the problem at hand.
    I curtsied back. “Thank you. I won’t abuse the honor.” Turning to Trillian, I asked, “What happened after Roche dragged me onto the astral?”
    His eyes took on a dangerous glow. “When I heard the commotion, I broke into the room. Roche had vanished and you were nowhere in sight. I searched everywhere. In the room, outside the building…but I couldn’t find you. I did, however, pick up on the fact that he’d kidnapped you into a different realm. So I sent a message back to my hotel asking Darynal to meet me here.”
    “You’re just lucky I’m in the city this month. I don’t usually trade here in Y’Elestrial,” Darynal interjected.
    Trillian gave him a short nod, then turned back to me. “I had no intention of leaving this area. If Roche came back without you and I managed to catch him, I would have taken a very dull knife and cut him over every inch of his body until he led me to you.”
    I swallowed. I thought I could be ruthless, but the look on Trillian’s face was cruel enough to slice rock. He’d make one hell of a nasty enemy.
    Darynal just laughed. “Trust him, he’d do it.”
    I filled them in on my adventures in astral-land, including my encounter with the copse of trees and how the brambles had hid me from Roche’s sight and sense of smell. I didn’t give them the rundown on meeting the Lady of the Mists. That little tea party I needed to think over for a while before I said anything to anyone. Of course, Trillian noticed the oversight.
    “How did you get back here?” he asked.
    “I found someone to help me,” I said, sidestepping the issue. “Some astral spirit who was in a good mood. So did Roche show up?”
    “You don’t see any blood, do you?” Trillian shook his head. “No, but trust me. He’ll be back later, when he thinks we’ve given up. He’s not going to want to leave this behind.” He hoisted a valise holding a number of magical scrolls, as well as several questionable objects. “I found it in the closet. Locked, but most locks can’t hold me out for long.”
    “We need to keep watch so we can catch him when he shows up,” I said. “But he can’t know I’m back. If he thinks I’m still stuck over there on the astral, then he’ll assume it’s safe. And you’d better put in an appearance of leaving because ten to one, he’s watching the building right now.” I frowned, digging through the items. Spell scrolls, potions, a few charms—all stuff that I could happily make use of.
    Grabbing my bag from where I’d left it on the chair, I upended the valise into it, swiping the scrolls along with everything else that he’d squirreled away. Then, I closed the trunk and set it back in place.
    Glancing up, I said, “I lost my iron handcuffs along the way, but I can find another pair in the markets. The scrolls are magical. Roche probably bought a butt load of