Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Sixty Two: Company

It was not how Jordan had planned to spend his night. Arlen had ordered him to stay in the other chair at the table, so the others of Arlen's group had gathered around them and Ashe still sat on the table in between, looking like someone had just presented her with a wonderful gift. He tried to pretend he hadn't noticed that she was trying to get a look at him under his coverings, or that some of the looks she sent him were distinctly flirtatious. He kept his thoughts fixed on the visit to Laurel Yddris had promised him tomorrow afternoon.

Arlen clearly didn't trust Ashe; most of the conversation had been conveyed in looks between the members of his group that Jordan couldn't read. He felt as if he was under scrutiny, and it wasn't at all a pleasant feeling. Like it was his fault Marick had some mysterious, unspecified plan for him.

"I would suggest that we start escorting the boy to and from yours," Usk rumbled.

"We can't exactly stop Marick from talking to him," Jesper put in. "That's just bleeding obvious."

"No, but we would know that he had," Usk countered.

"Fair," Arlen said. "We'll sort a rota."

"I don't suppose I get a say in this?" Jordan muttered. The last thing he wanted was to spend every trip to and from the dead quarter with a member of Arlen's posse. It was the only time he ever had completely to himself.

"No," Arlen replied without looking at him. "And the official story is that we're keeping Silas off him. It's probably an idea anyway. The little shit won't be happy that the kid's back."

"I'll say," Akiva said. "I saw him talking to himself and kicking barrels behind the beer hall the night he got back."

"If you're so concerned that Marick is training me to replace you," Jordan interrupted, though he couldn't quite make himself believe it, "why are you still training me?"

Arlen gave him a strange smile. "For the time being, kid, you're my insurance. If he didn't want me to train you more than he wants me dead right now, then I'd be fucking dead. Training you will at least give me enough time to figure a way out of this demonshit."

"Why can't you just tell him you won't oppose the plans?"

"Well firstly, it would betray that I might have been spying on him or that Ashe was an informant. She wouldn't thank me for that."

"I'd nail your balls to this table," Ashe said sweetly, dark eyes glinting.

"See? And second, it ain't fucking true and he would know it. The day I agree to work with Caelumese is the day I should be put away for being irretrievably cracked." A shadow passed over the assassin's face, making the thick scar down his cheek stand out vividly. Jordan was starting to have suspicions about where the man got it. "This is my only option. If I try and go it alone, I die. If someone here betrays me, I die. If I sit here and do nothing, I die. Are you getting the gist? This is some bad shit that I saw way too fucking late. You're either with me or you aren't."

He looked around at all of them then, his eye lingering longest on Usk.

"He'd seriously kill you for not following along with plans?" Jordan asked incredulously. But when he really thought about it, he could believe it. He had met Marick more than once, and though the man presented a pleasant face, there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he looked at people, that left no one in any doubt that he'd not lose sleep about killing them if he deemed it necessary.

"That's the thing," Akiva kicked back in his chair, looking far too relaxed about the whole thing, "Arlen wouldn't just not follow along. He'd oppose any agreement made with the Angels, and Marick couldn't risk him doing it publicly."