Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy by Pippa DaCosta

Author:Pippa DaCosta [DaCosta, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-07-02T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

When I woke, sunlight streamed in through the motel window and cut straight to the back of my skull, where it beat a dull ache. It was too quiet to be Fairhaven, and the bed smelled fresh and clean. I was on the bed? I propped myself up on my elbows and patted myself down. My clothes and the sheets were bone dry. And the corner, where I distinctly remembered Torrent cowering, was empty.

He’s gone.

“Brilliant,” I growled.

I showered, examined my almost-healed head wound, and frowned at the pile of bloodied towels. There was nothing left to hint at the flood, no wet carpets, no sign of anything unusual happening last night. I hadn’t imagined Torrent’s episode, had I?

A few knocks rapped on the door. “It’s late. Do you want dinner?” Torrent. And he sounded…normal. There was a slight undercurrent of a growl in those words, like he’d just woken up, but for all I knew that could have been his morning voice. Dinner? I’d been out the entire day?

I caught my reflection smiling and scowled right back at it. “I’ll be right there.”

Torrent had bought bagels. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the first bite of bagel went down. Leaning against a desk, I munched on the bread while Torrent spread his coat on the bed and checked its many internal and external pockets. He wore a different shirt, I noticed. He’d been out exploring, using Van’s card to pay for new clothes.

I caught a glimpse of sharp-tipped arrowheads tucked inside his coat pockets. He picked up the compact bow, ran his hands over its mechanism with practiced ease, and began to load the quiver positioned below the barrel.

He brushed his hip and hissed softly. I hadn’t imagined his wound, at least.

“Why a crossbow?” I asked around a mouthful of bagel. “Why not a knife, or a gun?”

“I can’t get the ammo for a gun, and if I’m close enough to use a knife, a fist will do just as well.” He tucked the final arrow into the quiver and lifted the bow, testing its weight. “The idea is not to get into a fight to begin with.”

And yet he’d tackled Allard, one on one. It couldn’t just be to save me. We barely knew each another, and he seemed too sharp to play the hero and get himself killed for a stranger. Van then. In retaliation for Allard’s brutal attack. That made sense.

I set my bagel down and approached the bed, eyeing the crossbow. Besides the reluctance to meet my gaze, Torrent seemed to have almost recovered from the wound and whatever had driven him into the corner. He held out the bow.

Wordlessly, I took the weapon. It was lighter than I’d expected, with all manner of intricate pulleys keeping the size down and the arrow velocity high. He’d modified the stock slightly, shortening it, making it more practical to carry with him. “If the idea is not to get into a fight to begin

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