Escolar Documentos
Profissional Documentos
Cultura Documentos
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
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chapter
O N E
11
A L E X B L E D S O E
“I am,” I groaned. The tavern was empty except for the two
of us, and whoever awaited me upstairs. “I just wish they didn’t
want them today. I could use a little time to mend.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Just a scratch.” That’s if you didn’t count the pain in my
forearms from blocking a dozen vicious sword blows that bent
the blade on my Englebrook Jouster and ended only when I
body-blocked the punk to the ground and cracked his head
with a rock. He was a soldier, wine addled and bored, and de-
served what he got for needlessly picking a fight. “I don’t
bounce back like I used to.”
“Who does?” she said, her irony almost sympathetic.
I looked up the stairs toward my office. Having my place of
business above a tavern made it easy for folks to contact me
without drawing a lot of attention; after all, they could always
claim they just stopped in for a drink, not to hire a sword
jockey. Many of them did, in fact, have a drink— often several—
before braving the stairs. Hell, so did I sometimes. “You think
I have time for breakfast?”
“No. I think they’re getting a bit impatient.”
“How long have they been here?”
“As long as I have.”
“Lovely. Okay, I’ll go see what they want.”
Angelina came from behind the bar and followed me up
the stairs. I didn’t think anything about it, since she kept odds
and ends in storage outside my office. Even when she followed
me inside, it didn’t register as anything unusual.
But no one was waiting in the outer office, or the private
inner one, either. I looked back at Angelina. “You said I had a
client in here.”
12
W a k e o f t h e B l o o d y An g e l
13
A L E X B L E D S O E
14
W a k e o f t h e B l o o d y An g e l
15
A L E X B L E D S O E
16
W a k e o f t h e B l o o d y An g e l
My dearest:
I have crossed the line, and now have my own ship, the
Bloody Angel. My crew is eighty strong and willing men,
and soon we will set out on our first voyage on the account.
When I return, I shall make you the queen of our own
island.
Your loving,
Edward
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A L E X B L E D S O E
18
W a k e o f t h e B l o o d y An g e l
I knew Angelina took the afternoons off and left the place in
the care of the barely capable, but defi nitely easy on the eyes,
Callie. Young, gaspingly gorgeous, naïve as a bootheel, Callie
was the reason a lot of men came to the tavern. She could dis-
arm even the most determined mischief-maker with a sway of
her hips and a smile.
It also helped that, in the fallow period between lunch and
dinner, the tavern was mostly empty. At the moment, I was
the lone customer, nursing my ale and pondering my new job.
Callie knew to leave me to my thoughts.
When I fi rst came to Muscodia, I hadn’t planned to stay,
certainly not in a small town like Neceda. Sevlow, the capital,
19
A L E X B L E D S O E
might’ve been all right, but this muddy little river town was a
great place to put behind me, or so I thought. As it turned out,
its location was perfect.
I’d come to the tavern as a customer that fi rst time, with no
thoughts at all of making it my permanent base. It was packed
that night, and I was lucky to get a place at the bar. Angelina
appeared before me, blew a loose strand of hair from her face,
and said, “What can I get you?”
I admit I stared. Her hair cascaded around her bare shoul-
ders, and her face and cleavage gleamed with sweat. I hadn’t
been with a woman in a while, and suddenly I felt every mo-
ment of that time. I smiled.
My reaction was not new to her, and she had no patience
with it. “Close your mouth and name your poison, friend, I
got a lot of thirsty folks here. There’s nothing under here that
isn’t exactly where you think it is, so let’s pretend you’ve seen
it and move on, okay?”
I ordered an ale, the same thing I was drinking now, and
watched her sweep around the tavern with all the dexterity,
skill, and composure of a soldier in the middle of battle. I’d
never seen a woman so beautiful yet so single-minded in her
task. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Between serving drinks, she took a big pot of slop out the
back of the kitchen to dump in the ditch, and I thought noth-
ing of it until that inner voice I’d long since learned to trust
said she’d been gone too long. None of the other workers had
noticed, so I discreetly slipped out and crept to the back of the
building.
20
WAKE
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