Secrets of the Crown Assassins

17

INDIGO

I ran up the staircase, quiet as possible. Normally, I would've listened for voices to find a sign of people, but the stadium was vibrating so hard, it was making the stairs shake. Not to mention, there were plenty of Streeters walking in and out of the watching areas to use the restrooms or make their way to the food stands and there was no way to know which was a Raven.

I followed Wolf's instructions to the other side of the stadium and made my way behind the seated area, scouring each level. There were still two more floors to search and only thirty seconds left before the meeting took place. I wasn't even sure if I was in the right place.

I rubbed my scar in frustration. The only thing that kept Nisa at bay and the others from locking me up again was this job. It was so that I could prove myself. If I messed this up, I would no longer have a home with the Rebels. And, as a former Assassin who knew all of their secrets, I would be a risk to them. It was likely that if I didn't succeed, I would have my head delivered back to the Golden Palace in a box.

Wolf knew that. It was partly his idea, and yet, he waited until the last second to tell me the necessary information. Maybe that was part of the test. Or maybe he just wanted to see me fail. Whatever the case, we needed to have a little chat after this was over.

I ran down the floor, looking into the side hallways branching away from the main area. There were people in quite a few, though from the brief lookovers I gave them, there wasn't anything that stood out.

At last, I looked into a hallway with a blonde boy talking to an older man. From their relaxed stance, I walked past them, moving on to the next hallway, when I stopped in my tracks. I never forgot a face and the boy looked familiar. Where was he from?

I backtracked and peeked around the corner, making sure I wasn't spotted. I looked at the boy again, trying to sort out where I'd seen him from. Finally, I realized who he was.

Trevor from Los Demonios.

When we went on our diablo mission during the last school year, we mingled a little with the Streeters in the city to confirm the stories of the diablo's activities. Trevor was a Streeter who happened to be around and buy me flowers. I forgot that he even existed.

Was he a Raven?

I looked down at his forearm which was covered by his jean jacket despite the astounding warmth of the city. That's where his Raven tattoo would've been. I thought back to my brief interaction with him and remembered wondering why he wore a full sleeve white shirt in the LD heat. Now I knew.

My luck with boys is tragic.

I needed to get closer to hear what they were saying. Almost instinctively, I looked up. The metal rafters in the ceiling were wide enough for me to crawl across. I just needed to get up there. Nearby a water fountain hung against the wall, the backside digging into the wall and creating a sort of niche all the way up.

Perfect.

Avoiding the area from which people would be drinking, I stepped onto the water fountain. I pressed my hands and legs against each side of the wall and used the tension to hold me up. Slowly, I moved each hand and foot, inching up the wall. It had been a while since I attempted anything of the sort and my muscles ached, but it was strangely freeing. This was natural to me, unlike the last few months of hiding.

Hoping no one would walk this way and find some random girl climbing up to the ceiling like a frog, I quickened my pace. Finally, I reach the top. Now, for the hard part. I bit my lip and pressed harder against the sides of the wall as I let go with one hand. I reached up for the lower edge of the rafters, stretching my arm as far as I could.