Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) Read Free Page B

to be a grill on the back porch, but it had
been stolen during my travels. Eventually, I would track it down.
    Near the sliding door that went to the back porch was another
cubbyhole that could be mistaken for a closet. It led downstairs. I
opened this door only enough to slip into the stairwell. Opening it
too far would knock over a rock set on the top stair. My simple and
hopefully clever trap would let me know if my inner sanctum had been
invaded during an absence. I flicked the light switch on without
hesitating and looked at the wall.
    There were more than a dozen crosses, horseshoes, carefully pressed
clovers. I even had rocks with holes worn through the center. The
collection covered any warding charms that superstition might allow.
Each one placed carefully on the wall in a descending pattern to the
bottom of the stairs. Some actually worked. My favorite was a tiny
cross made of pure silver. Dual function. Next to that was a set of
knuckle covers made of iron underweight coated in silver. The metals
combined in a slightly mushy exterior when fighting certain races.
Not my most violent tool, but effective, quiet, and legal. I grabbed
both. Being ready with the right equipment had allowed me to succeed
years ago. Tonight’s armaments weren’t needed for a
reputation. One was in case my ex managed to find me and was unhappy.
The other in case tonight’s job wasn’t as easy as I
hoped.
    Habitually I roamed the entire bottom floor. Each room got a once
over for disturbances. Nothing felt out of place. A lot of the items
were still in boxes from my four-year exodus. Others were on shelves
for display. Dust and webs piled up in untouched corners. Everything
seemed secure.
    Fourteen minutes had passed. Dawdling now would put me face to face
with my greatest worry. A cab should be available outside Julianne’s.
Seven shots meant escaping without a car would be difficult. I might
run into a wall in panic.
    Twenty blocks to the east things were looking a bit better. The cabby
hadn’t talked beyond asking for a fare. No rain threatened to
ruin the walk. More importantly, Kahina was nowhere in sight. She
could have been truly happy to see me, or satisfied that I finally
dared to return home.
    I had been pacing on the sidewalk since leaving the cab. Vehicles
never sat well with me. Most of my traveling took place by walking or
a bus. Hell. Buckling down and keeping busy would serve me well. Even
if the hasty escape required sitting in a car. Tonight wasn’t
the best night to try and track someone down. Panic induced
adrenaline couldn’t completely cancel out my inebriation.
    One hand brought out the small pouch. The other fidgeted in a jacket
pocket with the silver coated knuckles, slipping them off and on
again. I undid the button and pulled out a cheap brass lipstick tube.
Its top popped off easily so I could peer inside. Rather than the hue
of pink or red smear-able paste there was a tiny rolled up picture.
    Fine, pictures were usually a better focus than the tube. Even if it
had been used until the lipstick was gone. Well, both might serve. A
moment of concentration later I felt a pull at my left shoulder. Not
too far away, not too close, it seemed an hour out by foot, which was
good.
    Eastward I went, wandering the late night with a fuzzy cloud over my
vision. Sobriety should be closer by the time I found whoever it was
these items connected to. In my haste Julianne hadn’t gotten a
chance to give me the name. Still, the pouch never lied.
    Hell. I somehow left without my prepaid phone so calling back to the
bar would be tough. That was another sign of how inebriated I was. Or
of how much modern technology annoyed me. An hour or two later,
depending on the delay from my drunken stagger, I was smack in the
middle of an L-shaped apartment complex. Real low-class stuff, a
barely sanitary pool on one side, overstuffed parking lot on the
other. Cars were crammed into spots that didn’t really exist
along the grass and near