She held her own, though, as the wielder of the pointy things rather than receiver. A tendency that had earned her respect among Udo’s crew. Especially as some had been on the receiving end themselves.
As they rounded another corner, she scanned the new street for threats. Reaching beneath her cloak, she adjusted the weapon sheathed at her waist, ensuring that the split in the garment hung in the right place to enable her to reach it. Her life, and that of her employer, relied on such attention to detail.
Only once that was done did she touch the gemstone stud in her left ear, the lone remnant from the hilt of her shattered sword, and the one bit of Mervok that she carried with her. As usual, her heart gave a single, hard pulse of pain at the memory. Then she took a deep breath and shook her cloak so it draped looser. She’d sprinkled it with ground petals from a fragrant local vine, enough to cause passersby to sneeze. It was deliberate; far too many residents here used their noses over their eyes.
Aria was serious about remaining an unknown quantity. Until, that is, it was better not to be.
A large figure standing in a doorway spent a fraction too long staring. As they passed, he raised his head, as if scenting the air.
Her own nose twitched. The strong scent hampered her own sense of smell. But she’d caught the way the big guy’s eyes had flared as they walked by, going from pale brown to gold.
Shapeshifter.
She catalogued his human physique—he stood over six feet, with broad shoulders tapering to slim hips, leanly muscled with thighs built to run—and equated it to the most likely animal form.
Dire.
Her brows rose; the crafty shifters tended to stick to their homes in the human realm. What was he doing here? Just before they rounded another corner, the Dire shifter stepped out of the alcove. He turned their way, shoulders slouched, but movements smooth and fluid. Like the predator he was.
His casual pose didn’t fool her; he was hunting them.
Aria’s skin prickled. She dropped even farther back. Ahead of her, Xolto and the other guard continued on with Udo, oblivious to the threat.
Good thing she was around. Bodyguards were as essential to Udo as food. The underlord had few natural defenses of his own. Covered in soft, pale-pink fur, he stood only four feet in height, resembling a stuffed toy. The tiny claws that tipped each finger were not much of a natural defense, and they matched a set of equally pathetic teeth.
His cute appearance, however, could deceive. Udo was as much a lowlife as the rest of the underlords.
Sweat trickled between Aria’s breasts. Zakaron’s nighttime temperatures often plummeted to near freezing, but at the moment, the streets were like an oven. She grimaced as she pulled the cloak’s disguising hood tighter around her face and followed Udo down the street.
Without looking, she sensed that the shifter still followed them.
They approached a building typical of the region—three stories tall and built from local stone. A large Trog guard stood at each side of the entrance. They shifted their feet as they took in Udo, and their yellow eyes scanned Aria. One banged on the locked door as the group paused. It took a moment to open.
Aria used her hood to disguise her glance backward—just in time to see the Dire slip into another doorway. If he cared about the dealer Udo visited, he gave no sign.
Xolto loomed over her. “Stay outside.”
Her gaze drifted to Udo, who nodded. Xolto growled, but she ignored him. To be honest, she’d rather be out here. This visit was less than friendly—Udo suspected this dealer of skimming profits.
Udo and his guards entered the building, leaving Aria outside exchanging stares with the dealer’s hired henchmen. They eyed her uneasily, but they wouldn’t be stupid enough to take on their boss’s boss. Not with her standing there, anyway.
A moment later, a thin scream penetrated the thick door.
One sighed. “Don’t suppose Udo’s hiring?”
Aria shrugged. “He’s always hiring.” As one of the more significant underlords in the region, Udo went through mercs at a horrific rate.
The second one peered closer at her, his yellow gaze roaming as though he could see clear through her cloak. “You aren’t his usual type.”
Aria’s eyes narrowed. “And what type would that be?”
Before the guard could remove his foot from his mouth—or she could shove it down his throat—Udo and his guards emerged from the building. Xolto wiped his bloody knife on his tunic.
“We’re hiring if you’re interested,” the overseer rumbled.
“Yes, sir,” one said with resignation, before the two moved away.
Aria barely heard their reply, because the moment Udo reappeared, the Dire shifter left the doorway. As he pretended to be perusing the window display down the road, a second large man strolled around the far corner. The two exchanged a quick glance that she almost missed.
