CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tucking the coins into one of the larger coin purses, she made a quick necklace from some of the leather straps of the other purses and secured her small fortune around her neck. As she slipped it between her cleavage, Grace couldn’t help but smirk. A week ago, she didn’t have enough of a bust for this to ever work, but with her recent changes, her breasts had grown large enough to disguise the purse.

She snorted and shook her head slightly. “At least I’m getting a use out of them.”

Certainly not going to have anyone else admiring them anytime soon… Grace had far too much going on to worry about her love life—or lack thereof. It was such an insignificant part of her life. Had been before they’d fled Malkin, and it was even truer in Toran. Few paleskins wanted a Malkin girl, and that suited her just fine. Though there had been a cute baker’s apprentice who always smiled at her whenever she came to buy their leftover bread before they threw it out.

He had kind eyes and strong arms as he worked to knead the dough. Something about him was comforting to her. It was a harmless crush—or it had been before she’d become a servant to a god. Now, she doubted she could even look at him with anything remotely close to romantic interest.

Grace sighed. “Looks like a cold bed is in my future… but I’ll take it gladly in exchange for hot meals and an even hotter bath.”

Locking the safe, she moved the painting back to cover it, and then carefully disguised her steps. The dust and mold would grow back soon enough, but she didn’t want to leave a direct trail to her stash. It took a few minutes, but soon enough she was outside and walking through the desolate street. A rush of wind howled nearby and sounded like the wails of the dead. Grace nearly jumped out of her skin and went for the knife at her back on instinct before remembering she’d had to ditch her weapons.

She didn’t have enough clothing to disguise them.

Though she was now probably strong enough that she could kill without them, she hoped she wouldn’t have need to test that out between here and the boarding house. She’d killed more than enough for one day and wasn’t looking to add to that tally.

Thankfully the walk back to Lowtown was uneventful, and an hour later, she arrived in front of her home once more. Though with any luck, it wouldn’t be their home much longer. Standing out front as usual, was Max and a few of his crew. The giant of a man stood in his signature leathers and it reminded Grace that she also needed to arm and armor herself. It was another topic to bring up with Max.

She needed armor and better weapons but had no idea who she could commission without raising any red flags. With her current windfall of money, she could afford just about whatever she wanted, but what Grace needed as much as protection was anonymity.

And hopefully, her darling friend Max would be able to help with that front as well. After all, she’d earned herself quite a bit of goodwill with him and the rest of the Lowtown gangs. It’d be a waste to not use it to her utmost advantage.

Max picked her out as soon as she got near, showing that appearances could be deceiving. Despite how out of shape he looked, the man’s steel blue eyes were as sharp as a hawk, and he turned to face her as she arrived.

“Was just wonderin’ where you’d gotten off to?”

Grace shrugged. “Had a few errands to run.” She stopped a few feet from Max, out of range if any of them tried to grab her. Not that she thought they would, but it was merely a habit these days. “And speaking of errands, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” She thumbed toward the rusted gate leading to the boarding house’s tiny backyard. “You mind coming and talking in private?”

Max eyed her for a moment and scratched at the stubble poorly hiding his many chins before nodding. “Yeah sure.” He then turned to one of the toughs leaning on the brick wall behind him. “Isaac. You’re in charge till I get back. Don’t skivv this up, alright.”

The rough looking man nodded. “Got it, boss.”

Max then motioned for her to lead the way. She walked over to the once nice wrought iron fence. Time and rust had eaten away much of its luster and now it sagged listlessly in its warped frame. It squealed as she forced it open and headed down the cracked stone walkway to a pathetic patch of grass more weeds than anything.

She stood in the middle of the yard and glanced over at the many windows of the boarding house. Most of them were battened shut or covered with heavy drapes to block out light. None of them so much as whispered with movement so Grace was about as sure as she could be they were alone and free to speak openly.

Max stood in front of the walkway, not quite blocking off the entrance, but making sure no one could see her if they peered in. It was smart, and very thoughtful of the man to shield her like that. A slight lump formed in her throat at the fact she was blatantly taking advantage of one of the few people who had shown her even a scrap of kindness in this city, but she quickly swallowed it back.

Grace didn’t have to like it, but she wasn’t about to let such a resource go to waste.

Max just stared her down for moment before nodding at her to get on with it.

Taking a deep breath, Grace spoke, “Thank you for meeting me in private. I didn’t know who else to turn to who would know best how to help me.”

“What exactly is it you need?” he asked.

Grace worked her jaw back and forth for a moment, trying to figure out how best to phrase this. She shuffled her feet, trampling a few weeds under heel and bringing a slightly sharp earthy scent to her nose. “I need a few things—things I don’t know where to get myself—or who to trust not to talk afterwards at least.”

She knew she was hedging her answers, but this wasn’t exactly something she could just come right out and say. Not to Max who knew her as a thief and not as a godblessed champion of a dead god.

But it seemed Max was still a step ahead of her as his eyes narrowed and he glanced around a moment before a grim smile tugged at his jowls. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the blood matted in your hair, or the flecks of bone and worse I can see tangled in there, would it?”

What? Shite… This is what I get for not having a mirror!

Grace frantically ruffled her hair and a few slivers of bone snagged against her fingers as her knotted hair tugged at her scalp. She groaned as an actual rush of embarrassment came over her. It was worse than if he’d caught her changing, and she scowled that she’d been so careless.

“Don’t worry, I doubt anyone other than me would’ve noticed. No one pays Malkins that much attention in this city, so I think you’re fine.” Max frowned at her and crossed his arms over his rather expansive chest. “Talk to me Grace. Tell me what’s going on.”

She sighed and nodded. “Things have been happening lately. Things that have rapidly gotten out of hand.” It was close enough to the truth that it wasn’t a lie. “I’ve gotten mixed up in something way beyond me, and I need to be able to better protect myself.” She met his eyes and refused to blink. “What I need is armor and weapons first and foremost. I need the highest quality I can get without standing out, and I need to keep my name out of it.”

He blinked before pursing his lips, and shifting absently side to side, her enhanced perception picking up the minute tremors that shook the ground around him as he shifted his weight. “You’re looking for a frontman.”

Grace nodded. “I am. And I honestly can’t think of anyone better suited than you.”

Max huffed as he worked his jaw back and forth. “You’re asking a lot from me, but you already know that.”

“Do you trust me, Max?”

“What kind of bloody question is that?” He snorted. “If I didn’t, I’d have already told you to skivv off asking me a thing like that.” He shook his head. “It’s not about trust—it’s about coin. A skilled armorer and weaponsmith already cost a pretty silver—but ones that can mask the quality of their gear are exponentially more expensive—and ones that will keep their mouth shut about it afterward… you’re looking at thrice the cost.” Staring at her, he shook his head and sighed. “You’re a damned good thief, and if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’ve been hiding how much actual wealth you’ve been bringing in since you got here.” Max held up his hand to stall the denial already forming on her lips. “Don’t. You’d be a fool not to, and one thing I know about you, is you’re no one’s fool. I would also greatly appreciate the courtesy of you not lying directly to my face.”

She nodded. “Sorry, Max.”

He simply shrugged and scratched at his balding head. “Don’t be. It’s how the game is played. But now, I would like to think we’re beyond our original arrangement.” He scoffed. “Hells, we’d have to be to even be having this conversation. So don’t go apologizing for simply surviving. Don’t ever apologize for that.” He let out a harsh breath and shrugged. “Now, back to your question. What you’re asking is doable, but it will be anything but cheap. Is that going to be a problem?”

Reaching into her shirt, she snagged her coin purse and with a tug, snapped the leather holding it around her neck. “You tell me.”

She tossed it to him, and Max moved far quicker than his size suggested. He snatched it out of the air without even looking and his eyes widened at the heft. He gave it a small shake as a frown drew across his lips. “Silver?”

“See for yourself?”

His fat fingers deftly pulled the leather apart, and Grace smiled as the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “Aruns,” he said, gasping. With shaking fingers, Max pulled one out and held it up to the fading sunlight. “It’s real… what... where…”

As if it had suddenly burned him, Max suddenly dropped it back into the purse and hastily pulled the strings taut. Eying the coin pouch like it had personally wronged him, Max let out a sigh and tossed it back to Grace with a dark expression on his face. “Who did you kill for this?”

Catching the purse even more effortlessly than he had, Grace stared at Max and refused to blink. “Do you really want to know,” she said, not bothering to lie.

For a moment, Max just stood there before she exhaled and shook his head. “No. I suppose I don’t…”

“Can you still help me?”

For a long moment, the man was silent, and Grace feared he might tell her to bugger off. But after a nearly a minute of silence, Max cleared his throat and nodded. “I can. I’m still willing to help you. There’s just one thing I need to know first.”

“And what would that be?” she asked.

“Tell me when and how?”

“When and how, what?” Grace replied, ignoring the glare he was giving her.

Max scoffed at her. “You’re still young, Grace. For all your talent and ability, you’re still barely more than a child. There is so much of the world you were never privy to. And in some ways, still aren’t. If you think for a moment that those in the know won’t recognize the signs, then even with blood on your hands, you’re still just nothing more a naïve little girl.”

Grace merely scowled at him. “What the hells are you talking about?”

Max paused, watching her, and then in a flash, his hand flicked forward. Almost faster than she could react, the knife he’d pulled was arcing toward her. Instinct took over at the last second and her body moved on its own. Only a few feet separated them, but in that time, she managed to skirt around the tip of the blade aimed directly at her heart.

As the dagger tumbled harmlessly past her, Grace whirled on the man with rage burning in her gut. She took a step towards him almost without realizing it as the voice inside her clamored for his blood.

He had tried to kill her, and that was a debt to be paid in kind.

Grace was already thinking of ways to hide his body when the look on his face stopped her cold. Max just stood there with a knowing expression in his eyes.

“Tell me, Grace.”

“Tell you what?”

He let out a slow breath and stared past her eyes into the depths of her soul. “Tell me which god you serve?”