Raven Moore's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

Raven stepped over the drag marks and into the tunnel that led beyond Lucian’s territory. The change was immediate. The air felt colder here, but not with the damp chill of the upper tunnels. This cold settled deeper. It clung to the stone and crawled beneath her clothes, carrying the strange stillness of somewhere that had been sealed away from daylight for too long. Even the walls were different. Lucian’s territory had been rough, broken in places, patched by years of collapse and neglect. Here, the stone had been cut smooth. Black veins ran through it like old scars. Symbols had been carved at intervals along the passage, worn shallow with age but still visible when the dim red light behind them caught the edges. Raven slowed. She didn’t recognize any of them. That bothered her more than she wanted to admit. The drag marks continued straight ahead. She followed. Lucian’s hand closed around her arm. “Stop.” Raven looked down at his fingers, then up at him. “Take your hand off me.” His expression didn’t change. “The marks go this way,” she added. “I can see that.” “Then why are we stopping?” “You don’t understand the rules here.” Raven pulled her arm free. “Then teach me while we walk.” He didn’t move. That made her pause. Lucian had spent almost every moment since she crossed into his territory acting like nothing surprised him. Nothing unsettled him. Even with a Hollowborn throwing itself against a boundary in her voice, he had looked annoyed more than afraid. Here, he looked careful. Not frightened. That would have been easier. Careful meant he knew exactly what lived in this part of the underground. His gaze moved past her into the dark. “My father’s guards listen for voices,” he said quietly. “For footsteps that don’t belong. For anything out of place.” Raven glanced down at her boots. “Great. I’ll walk prettier.” His eyes returned to hers. “Do you ever stop?” “Do you?” “No.” “Then I guess we’re both unfortunate.” Something almost resembling amusement touched his face, but disappeared before it fully formed. “If they find you,” he said, “I can’t stop what happens.” Raven watched him for a second. There was no teasing in his voice now. No challenge. No smug little edge. Just fact. She hated that facts were harder to dismiss. “Then we stay quiet.” “We stay close.” Her jaw tightened. Of course they did. “Define close.” Lucian stepped past her into the tunnel. “Close enough that you don’t get yourself killed trying to prove a point.” Raven followed. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.” “That has not been my experience.” She nearly answered, then thought better of it. Mostly because the passage narrowed before she could. They moved single file for several yards until the stone opened just enough for them to walk side by side. Even then, their shoulders brushed every few steps. Raven adjusted her pace. Lucian matched it. She slowed. So did he. She looked at him. “Are you doing that on purpose?” “Doing what?” “Being irritating.” “That requires no effort.” She rolled her eyes and faced forward again. The tunnel curved downward. The deeper they went, the quieter it became. No dripping water. No skittering rats. No distant groan of shifting stone. Nothing. Raven had learned long ago that complete silence usually meant one of two things. Nothing lived there. Or everything alive knew better than to make noise. She wasn’t sure which possibility she preferred. Ahead, something scraped against stone. One slow drag. Then another. Raven stopped. Lucian’s hand landed against her stomach and shoved her backward. Her spine hit the wall. Hard enough to knock the breath from her. She opened her mouth. He raised one finger. Raven glared at him. A shape passed the mouth of the intersecting tunnel ahead. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Human at first glance. Not human at the second. Its skin was too pale against the black stone. Long strips of dark fabric hung from its body, moving without sound. A curved blade rested against one shoulder. Raven held still. The figure paused. Lucian’s hand pressed more firmly against her stomach. Her eyes dropped. His palm was flat just above the waistband of her pants. Warm. Very warm. Of all the things her brain could have noticed right now, that was what it chose. Ridiculous. The guard turned its head slightly. Raven stopped breathing. Lucian leaned closer. His mouth was near her ear when he whispered, barely audible, “Don’t.” She wasn’t sure whether he meant don’t move, don’t breathe, or don’t do something stupid. Probably all three. The guard stood there another moment. Then continued down the adjoining tunnel. Its footsteps faded. Raven exhaled through her nose. Lucian didn’t move. Neither did his hand. She looked up at him. His face was closer than she expected. Too close, actually. Close enough to see the darker ring around his crimson irises. Close enough to notice the faint scar cutting through one eyebrow. Close enough that if either of them moved forward even slightly— No. Absolutely not. “You can move that now,” she whispered. His eyes flicked down. Then back to hers. He removed his hand. Slowly. Raven hated that she noticed that too. “This is a terrible time,” she murmured. “I’m aware.” “Then stop looking at me like that.” His mouth tilted. “You looked first.” Raven stared at him. She had. Unfortunately. “You’re unbearable.” “And yet you’re still here.” “For the courier.” “Of course.” She pushed away from the wall. He let her pass. The smirk was still there. She wanted to punch it off his face. Or wipe it off another way, which was far more irritating. Raven immediately hated the thought. She walked faster. Behind her, Lucian gave a quiet laugh. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Exactly.” They continued deeper. The passage widened again, opening into a long corridor lined with carved pillars. Several had cracked down the middle. Others leaned slightly, held upright by nothing Raven could see. There were symbols here too. More of them. Some had been scratched out. Others covered by newer marks painted in something dark. Raven slowed beside one. “What is that?” Lucian didn’t stop. “A warning.” “For what?” “People who ask too many questions.” She gave him a flat look. He sighed. “It marks restricted ground.” “Restricted by your father?” “Restricted by anyone who wants to keep breathing.” “Very specific.” “You seem to require repetition.” She ignored that. The drag marks remained visible, though they were harder to follow now. There were too many tracks. Boot prints crossed the corridor in both directions. Some fresh. Some old. Bare footprints appeared in places, narrow and strangely long. Raven crouched near the wall. Lucian stopped beside her. “What?” She pointed. “Blood.” A dark smear stained the stone near ankle height. Not black like the Hollowborn. Red. Human. Lucian crouched. He touched two fingers near the edge of the stain without actually making contact. “Fresh.” Raven’s stomach tightened. “The courier?” “Maybe.” “Helpful.” “You want me to lie?” “No. I want you to know everything.” “That’s going to disappoint you.” She looked at him. “I figured that out about five minutes after meeting you.” Lucian stood. “So did I.” “About me?” “About disappointment.” Raven rose. “Careful.” “Is that a threat?” “No.” She stepped closer. “That was me deciding whether hitting you would make too much noise.” His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth again. There it was. That look. Quick enough that she could pretend she imagined it. Not quick enough that she did. Raven held his gaze. Neither moved. For one stretched second, the underground disappeared around them. Then something clanged in the distance. The moment snapped. Lucian looked away first. “Keep moving.” Raven smiled faintly. Interesting. She said nothing. They followed the corridor down another flight of shallow stone steps. At the bottom, the architecture changed again. The walls opened into an underground street. That was the only way Raven could think to describe it. Buildings had been carved directly into the surrounding rock. Narrow doors stood beneath old arches. Some were sealed. Others were covered in heavy curtains. Red lanterns burned at uneven intervals, throwing dim light across the stone path. There were people here. Or things that looked enough like people from a distance. Figures moved between doorways, heads lowered. No one spoke. No one laughed. No one looked directly at them. Raven instinctively moved closer to Lucian. She realized it and immediately hated herself for it. He noticed. Of course he did. “Don’t.” She whispered, “Don’t what?” “Pretend you didn’t just move closer.” “I was avoiding that puddle.” “There is no puddle.” “Then maybe I like your company.” Lucian turned his head. Raven smiled sweetly. “Don’t get excited. I’m lying.” His expression flattened. “Tragic.” They walked on. A woman passed them carrying a basket covered in dark cloth. She glanced at Lucian. Then Raven. Her eyes widened slightly. She immediately looked away. Raven noticed. “She knows you.” “Everyone here knows me.” “That sounds arrogant.” “It’s not.” “That somehow makes it worse.” He stopped. Raven nearly walked into him. Ahead, two guards stood beneath an arch. Both carried the same curved blades. One wore a red sash across his chest. The other had something branded along the side of his neck. Lucian’s voice dropped. “Stay behind me.” Raven frowned. “Absolutely not.” “Raven.” “Don’t use that tone.” “What tone?” “The one where you think you’re giving orders.” “I am giving orders.” She stared at him. “You really are your father’s son.” Something changed in his expression. Cold. Immediate. Raven realized too late that she had struck something real. Lucian leaned closer. “Don’t.” One word. Quiet. No amusement. She could have pushed. Normally, she would have. Instead she held his gaze and said, “Fine.” The guards looked toward them. Lucian moved first. Raven stayed half a step behind him. She hated every second of it. The guard with the red sash spoke. “You’re far from your quarter.” Lucian’s posture changed. Not dramatically. Just enough. His shoulders straightened. His expression went blank. Power seemed to settle over him like another layer of clothing. Raven had seen pieces of it before. This was different. This was Lucian Vale in a place where his name meant something. “I go where I want,” he said. The guard’s eyes shifted to Raven. “And the human?” Raven opened her mouth. Lucian answered first. “Mine.” Her head snapped toward him. Excuse me? The guard looked at her again. Then at Lucian. Something almost knowing passed across his face. Raven felt her irritation spike. “Move,” Lucian said. The guard stepped aside. They passed beneath the arch. Raven waited until they had turned the corner. Then she grabbed Lucian’s sleeve. “Mine?” He kept walking. “It worked.” “You could have said guest.” “No.” “Companion.” “No.” “Hostage.” “That one would have raised questions.” Raven stopped. Lucian turned. “You are never calling me yours again.” His eyes moved slowly over her face. “Is that what bothered you?” “Yes.” “Interesting.” “What is that supposed to mean?” His gaze dropped. Just briefly. Then returned. “Nothing.” Raven stepped closer. “Say it.” “No.” “Coward.” That got a reaction. Small. His jaw tightened. She smiled. “There he is.” Lucian leaned down slightly. “Be careful.” Her pulse jumped. She ignored it. “With what?” “How much you enjoy provoking me.” Raven’s smile faded just a little. His voice had changed. Lower. Too calm. The air between them suddenly felt too warm for somewhere this cold. She refused to retreat. “Maybe you’re easy to provoke.” “Maybe you like seeing what happens.” For a moment, neither spoke. Raven’s heartbeat became irritatingly noticeable. Then voices echoed from the next passage. Lucian straightened. Whatever had been between them vanished behind his expression again. “Move.” Raven followed. This time she did not argue. Not because he told her to. Because she needed a second to get her thoughts back under control. The drag marks appeared again near a low arch at the edge of the underground street. Raven crouched. There. Deeper grooves cut into the dirt. Several sets of boot prints surrounded them. Ordered. Evenly spaced. Not the erratic movement of an attack. An escort. She touched one of the tracks. “These weren’t made by Hollowborn.” Lucian knelt beside her. “No.” She followed the line of prints toward the wall. Something had been pressed into the dirt. A symbol. A circle crossed by two straight lines. Raven froze. She knew that mark. She had seen it before. On the binding charm inside the courier’s satchel. Her fingers hovered over it. “That’s Adrian Cross’s symbol.” Lucian said nothing. Raven looked at him. “You know it.” His face gave her nothing. “Lucian.” “I know of it.” “That’s not what I asked.” “It’s the answer you’re getting.” She stood. Of course. There it was again. The wall. Every time she thought he might actually give her something useful, he shut the door. “Your father’s guards took her.” Lucian rose slowly. Raven pointed at the tracks. “But someone marked the trail.” His gaze lowered. “Someone working with Cross knew she would come through here.” Silence. Raven felt the pieces locking together. The satchel. The charm. The route. The missing courier. The fact that she had been seen walking willingly with someone before disappearing. This wasn’t random. It never had been. “She wasn’t grabbed by accident,” Raven said. Lucian’s eyes lifted to hers. “She was delivered.” He didn’t correct her. That bothered her. Lucian corrected everything. “To your father?” she asked. His jaw tightened. “Maybe.” “That’s not good enough.” “It’s all I have.” Raven looked down the passage. The drag marks continued into the dark. “So Cross has access to these tunnels.” Lucian said nothing. “Or someone who works for him does.” Still nothing. She turned. “You told me not to ask about the charm.” “I remember.” “I’m not asking anymore.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounds dangerous.” “I’ve been told.” Raven stepped closer. “The courier was carrying something tied to Cross. She comes underground. Your father’s guards take her deeper. Someone leaves Cross’s mark behind like a breadcrumb.” Lucian watched her. “What are you thinking?” “That your father isn’t the only problem.” His expression hardened. “He rarely is.” That was the first real thing he’d said about him. Raven noticed. She also noticed he seemed to regret saying it. “Lucian—” “No.” She laughed once. “There it is.” “What?” “That thing you do.” “What thing?” “The second something becomes remotely personal, you turn into a brick wall.” “And you become louder.” “Maybe because you refuse to answer anything.” “Maybe because you ask questions that don’t concern you.” Raven stepped forward. “The courier concerns me.” “My father doesn’t.” “He does if he has her.” The words landed harder than she expected. Lucian’s expression changed again. Not anger. Something quieter. More dangerous. “You don’t know anything about him.” “Then tell me.” “No.” “Why?” His eyes locked onto hers. “Because I said no.” Raven let out a humorless laugh. “God, you’re infuriating.” “And you’re still here.” “Again, not for you.” “Again, of course.” That tone. She hated that tone. Raven stepped close enough that there was barely space between them. “You really think everything is about you.” “No.” Lucian looked down at her. “I think you keep finding reasons to stand this close.” Her breath caught. Just for a second. Damn him. Raven smiled instead. “Maybe I’m deciding where to stab you.” His gaze lowered to the knife at her hip. Then back to her face. “You’ve had several opportunities.” “Don’t tempt me.” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Liar. Both of them. A distant door slammed. They looked toward the sound. The tension broke again. Raven hated how often that seemed to happen. Maybe that was better. Maybe if they ever got a full uninterrupted minute, one of them would do something stupid. Probably her. Definitely him. She looked down the passage again. The drag marks disappeared beneath another arch. “We keep going.” Lucian stared into the dark. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he nodded. This time there was no argument. No warning. No attempt to send her back. He simply moved beside her. Raven glanced at him. The distrust between them had not disappeared. Not even close. She still didn’t know what he wanted. She didn’t know what he was hiding. She didn’t know whether following him deeper into his father’s territory was the worst decision she had made all night. But now they were looking at the same trail. The same symbol. The same enemy. At least for the moment. That would have to be enough. They crossed beneath the arch together. Neither noticed the figure watching them from the balcony above.