How to Make a Sinner Sleep

18 | target; the inky tavern

He adjusted his collar of his white shirt, pulling at the dusted brown jacket that hung a little too loose on his arms. Fixing the soft hat over his head to draw shadows over his pale green gaze, he strolled through the town.

Kaden didn't really have to pull off a performance, sneaking to the sides of the streets, weaving away from larger crowds.

This had once been his playing field.

It was later in the evening, and most children had run home, while stalls packed up for the night. There were the sounds of chatter within the warmly lit homes, the cautious glares of those roaming the streets.

Back hunched, head lowered, Kaden slunk off to the darker alleys, melding with the gloom of the night.

He caught sight of a familiar voice, a scratchy, unpleasant tone that grated against his ears. And the abusive words still rung clearly, fresh in memory.

Kaden glanced around, slipping past the lumbering men and women, and following the sound. The man—Arlo's father, entered a run down bar, knocking thrice and muttering a few words in a gruff whisper.

Leaning against a wall, Kaden frowned.

A password protected bar?

For the several locations in the slums, most didn't choose to enter such places. Not because they weren't good, or overly costly, but most within had similar twisted objectives.

The word 'Inky Tavern' hung in the creaking sign above.

If Kaden remembered correctly, this was a place for information. Where nobles came and went, hiring thugs to commit whatever dirty deeds they sought.

Kaden swallowed.

Reed had frequented these places often, but not for reasons Kaden knew. The man had been planning something for so many years, hidden under wraps. To the end, Kaden had not been able to decipher the man he lived most of his life with.

Kaden's missions were to kill targets that went against Reed, to silence and to spy on certain people that lost the man's favour.

He could not disobey any orders, with the curse of obedience tainting his flesh.

Uneasiness washed over the lurking man, and he tugged the hat even further down. A more elaborate disguise stood out instead of blending in, and it would be a waste to turn back.

Though Kaden knew when and when not to run.

The rules of the street were simple. Have no pride, if pride meant sacrificing your life. To run may be cowardly, but to not run was stupidity. What was pride except for a feeling people held onto, hoping to feel a little better about themselves?

Breathing calmly, he strolled to the door and knocked three times. It opened a sliver, and a large man peered down at him viciously.

"And you are?"

An arrogant smile curved on the pale lips, and the man raised his chin slightly to look up, eyes a chilling, discernible colour.

"I have some services I'm seeking tonight." said Kaden quietly, relaxed and ill-natured, shrugging his shoulders. "My patience is limited."

The guard narrowed his eyes. "Your name?"

"It won't be listed—I was recommended by a friend who wishes to be unnamed. It won't do for your business if you continue to... hinder me."

A shiver rushed up the guard's back. Trained for fights, he knew how to sense danger when he saw it, a nauseating sensation that crawled up his back like a million ants. The relaxed expression of the person before him was noble and threatening.