A Storm of Chaos (The Hunter Legacy #1)

Chapter One

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PART ONE

The Silver-Eyed Stranger

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There was a commonality in every town, regardless of the size or location. It wasn't something as simple as market places and annual festivals, or as innocent as the townsfolk themselves.

No, the commonality was in the underground, illicit dens where underhanded deals were struck, where men and women sold themselves for quick money, and where one hooded woman sat in leathered-lined booth toward the back of the main taproom, her eyes on the den's entrance and the people milling about it.

Kaya Nebrae lounged back in the booth with legs outstretched across the seat, but her gloved fingers drummed impatiently against the table to contradict her otherwise relaxed posture. There was an untouched glass of whiskey within reach, and a clamouring music played in the background that wasn't at all kind on the ears of a sober person, yet made for excellent dancing music for the drunkards nearby. Everyone else was too busy in their sordid activities, be it gambling, scheming, brawling or fondling the staff up for hire.

Regardless, this den wasn't as bad as others Kaya had visited. The smell was more tolerable, firstly, and most people could be at least a little confident that they would survive the visit. Other dens saw first-time or stupid visitors ending up dead in a faraway gutter or penniless in a nearby alley.

Neither of which were scenarios Kaya had to fear for herself, of course.

Her impatience spiking, Kaya swept her gaze irritably across the taproom again. She was confident her target hadn't returned from the lower levels of the den without her noticing, just as she was confident that he would come here at all. She knew her target because he was the same as all her targets; desperate. And only the desperate came here when they were in need of help.

Kaya also knew that her target would show up soon to leave the den, if only because it was nearing nightfall. He might have been desperate enough to come here for help, but he wasn't desperate enough to spend the night here like some of the brave and reckless souls would when the den shut its doors. There were no windows for Kaya to see through to know how far nightfall was but she knew, innately, that it was approaching.

So Kaya settled her eyes on the door, and found three men prowling toward her. She raised a brow at them, her mind taking quick stock of their statures and clothing to identify who was the leader; the man walking a pace ahead of the other two and dressed in a gaudy red tunic tied by gold sashes at the waist. His sword was not at all practical, not with how ornate and jewel-encrusted the pommel and handle were, and he didn't even bother reaching for it as he approached her despite, based on his puffed chest and stern expression, that he was angling for a fight.

Too confident in his lackeys, Kaya thought. She supposed the lackeys could be deemed intimidating, what with one being as broad in the shoulders and chest as a barrel, and tanned, muscular arms that strained beneath his sleeves while his shaved head was tattooed at the centre – something Kaya couldn't help but liken to a bullseye. The other was lithe and lean, armed with two hunting knives at either hip, while the bigger lackey had adorned himself with brass knuckles.

'Whilst I usually appreciate a woman waiting for me when I arrive, I'm quite certain you are not one of the girls I ordered,' said the leading man, his arms folding over his chest as he looked her over like a buyer appraising what was on offer.