How to Make a Sinner Sleep

91 | collapse; a stomach made uneasy

Kaden was ordered to remain in the shadows until called, like a dog bound by a leash, kept in his cage to restrain his violence. Reed had cleared an empty tavern, making it appear as though it were running business as usual despite his manipulation.

Kaden sat on the cold steps outside, leaning against the door as laughter and awkward cheers echoed across the room. The meeting had begun.

He'd taken the faerie to a local doctor that specialized in non-human beings—a rarity in this city polluted by humans. Although he supposed, this was a human city—and therefore, humans were common. It would be different in other places, such as the Dragon's Treasure.

The flow of random thoughts allowed him to disguise the vivid images in his head.

In fact, memory became altered with every recollection. It was a thing easily swayed, and perhaps the act of remembering that scene gave rise to details that were more grotesque and terrible than it had actually been.

Though did it matter, when the facts didn't change no matter whether there was more blood or less, if there had been more wrinkles in the skin or less emotion in her softened gaze?

The fact that there were two corpses in that room.

A shudder wracked his aching body and he blamed the cold.

"You made a mistake," a voice called out bitterly from above, where an overhang stretched above Kaden. He didn't look up. "That was dangerous—you shouldn't have revealed your identity, Kaden Chauvet."

Kaden fiddled with a stone at his feet, then flipped the gold coin into his palm and played with that instead.

"Ignoring me now? I'm wounded." Teased the voice, though their tiredness couldn't be hidden.

The Organizer flipped backwards, landing at Kaden's feet at a low crouch. He wore a different face again, obscured by the darkness. This evening, he wore red hair and rich green eyes, a hat tipped over his forehead.

A gleam of metal swayed under the open collar of his shirt, a metallic chain that led to a small charm. Kaden glanced briefly, but he couldn't make out the small shape. It seemed to have a wing. Tonight, the man seemed to enjoy accessories, rings lining over his knuckles as well.

"Can you listen to me, at least?"

Kaden's gaze flickered up coldly. "I believe it's in your principals to watch from the sidelines and remain a pathetic bystander. Interference isn't in your values."

"Even I pity fools when they act foolish. You're not immortal, Mr. Fox. It would do you well to rely on your allies. The revelation of your identity may harm the Crown Prince—it may prove your words and his cruelty, but it endangers you as well!"

The Organizer huffed in a flurry of words, frustration stemming off the top of his hat. If it manifested into reality, it would appear as steaming smoke. Kaden wondered if he could cook potatoes over the Organizer's frustration.

The ridiculous thought appeased his turbulent mind. Obscurity masked obscurity, and such thoughts could misdirect from the ones probing at his mind.

"I haven't acted in any way that was blind to the consequences."

"You acted in a way that didn't care for them! The fact that you're aware is worse—because you know you're in danger, and put yourself there anyway!"

"Who are you to tell me anything!" snapped Kaden suddenly, a cloud of air escaping his mouth from the chilling air. "Know your place, Sir Organizer."

The other party went still and quietly wondered, "If I was somebody with meaning to you, a friend, a lover, a companion or family—would that change anything? Would my words hold any more merit if I mattered more?"