Rogue's Passion(5)

When you lose someone you care about, it’s hard to accept that the universe doesn’t notice the huge void. That people don’t look around, confused, wondering what had suddenly gone missing. But no. They still laugh. They still party with their friends. They still watch a black and white ball being kicked up and down a field by grown men and use it as an excuse to get blottered. Like a stone plunked into a moving river, Fallon’s death hadn’t even made a ripple.
And if that person’s death was partially your fault, it made things even worse.
When Toryn had left a few days ago, he’d tried to get Asher to head back with him. “You going after Scar Face isn’t an official mission,” he said. “We need to run it past Rickert first.”
How was tracking down the killer of an Iron Guild warrior not official when they had taken an oath of justice and honor? And if by some screwed-up interpretation it wasn’t sanctioned, well then, too bad. It was a rogue mission already and he wasn’t about to stop.
“By the time I do that,” he’d told Toryn, “the trail will be cold. Besides, Rickert is facing sanctions. Who knows if and when he’ll be put in charge again? Right now, we’re on our own here.”
Their leader had brought an enemy soldier through the portal and lied about it. Even though Rickert had fallen in love with her, her presence had caused all sorts of trouble. He’d been ordered to destroy the Crestenfahl portal and was temporarily banished. He and Neyla planned to open a secret safe house for warriors on this side, but as far as Asher knew, they hadn’t found a suitable location yet.
Asher, however, did have a place to stay and he wasn’t about to wait for justice. Reckless Motor Sports was a legit garage with a not-so-legit chop shop on the side, employing ex-cons, misfits, and losers who hated the army almost as much as he did. He often stayed there when many of his fellow warriors headed back home to Cascadia.
He gripped his glass with white-knuckled fingers. Unfortunately, he’d been here for several hours now and there was still no sign of his target. Fine. He was a patient man. He’d come back night after night if he had to. He owed Fallon that much.
Careful of his hidden weapons, he grabbed the pitcher, refilled his glass, and downed the contents in a couple of gulps. Compared to the ogappa ale he’d grown up on, this stuff was like water.
The redhead on his left ran a manicured finger around the rim of her glass. “You haven’t told us where you’re from.” Her eyes were framed by unrealistically long lashes with tiny rhinestones on the ends, and the careful way she smiled gave him the distinct impression that she was trying hard not to disturb her lipstick. She was attractive, but in a deliberate sort of way.
“Out of town. Just here for a few days on business.” Not wanting to deal with a shitload of questions, he changed the topic back to them, taking care to cover up his accent. “Since you’re from the area, maybe you can recommend a good gym,” he lied. Reckless had a room with a few weights, but it was all he could come up with.
“A gym?” The blonde looked confused.
“You both work out, right? You’re in great shape.” They were. He wasn’t just saying that. It was a lame-ass pick-up line, but his goal was to keep the conversation steered away from him. “I figured you could tell me the location of a good one nearby.”
The women argued whether the best facility was the one near the old Space Needle or the one adjacent to the Elliott Bay High-Occupancy Tunnel, known as the HOT, which joined the mainland and the peninsula. One gym had state-of-the-art aerial rowing machines, while the one near the HOT employed a former mixed martial arts champion as the head fitness trainer. “God, he’s hotter than hell, Monique. I’m serious.”
Asher tried to look engaged in their conversation even though his mind was wandering.
“Look after my sister,” Fallon had said from the cold stone floor. “And tell her…I’m sorry to miss the birth of her wee one.”
It wasn’t as though Fallon hadn’t known the risks. All Iron Guild warriors who came through the portals to fight the enemy here on their own soil knew it was dangerous. They were wanted men with a price on their heads should their cover be blown. Asher had been in charge over here. Which meant he was responsible for any casualties suffered by his men. Fallon was the newest warrior, eager to prove himself…and much too young to die.
They’d won the battle, but at what price? The Crestenfahl portal had been destroyed and his friend was dead.
He absently rubbed a hand over his knee, which hadn’t fully healed yet.