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scribomaniac · 3 years

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One Step Ahead Ch 10

Read from the beginning here!

“You’re in?” Aelin stared at him suspiciously. “Just like that?”

Rowan nodded, not trusting himself yet to speak.

Aelin opened her mouth, then closed it quickly. She looked like she wanted to push him further, learn what his motives were. But, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, instead she said, “Well then. Let’s get to work.”

Rowan and Aelin re-entered the manor side by side. He was relieved by her lack of questions, unsure how he’d handle any more scrutiny tonight.

When they returned, it looked like no one had moved an inch. There were no open seats left in the room—and even if there were, Rowan would never put himself in such a compromising position—so he leaned against a wall instead. Looking around at the rag tag force Aelin had managed to muster together, he pursed his lips and asked, “So what’s the plan?”

Clearing his throat, Athril leaned forward. “The only way we’ll even have a shot at putting Maeve away is if we have hard evidence putting her in the house the night of the murder.”

Looking over at Aelin, Rowan raised a brow. Sounds easy enough to me, he told her. You’d just have to testify.

Noticing their exchange, Arthil shook his head. “I can’t put Aelin on the stand. For starters she was only a child when it happened. Any good lawyer will argue she misremembered Maeve being there that night, or thought it was Maeve when it was someone else. And then of course there’s the fact that Aelin Galathynius is still considered a missing person.” He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “The only form of identification she has is as Celaena Sardothian.”

“So we’d just have to prove she’s Aelin,” Rowan shrugged. “That can’t be too hard. We’d just have to match her DNA to a sample of her parents.”

“Or to mine,” Aedion shrugged. “Your mom was an Ashryver, so that’d work, right?”

“Look,” Athril snapped, “I’m not putting Adarlan’s Assassin on the stand. I’m taking a big enough gamble as it is. If someone leaks your identity as a wanted killer then we’ll be laughed out of court.” Looking around the room, daring anyone to object, he said, “We need to do this without Aelin.”

“Then tell us what we should do,” the old man in the chair said calmly, though the young man behind him looked like he was ready to start throwing punches.

Aelin stepped forward, her eyes zoned in on Rowan’s, “We need someone on the inside. Someone who can gather intel and evidence.”

Rowan lifted his chin, and Aelin nodded.

“No one is perfect,” Athril continued. “Maeve may have an army of killers and cleaners at her disposal, but there’s got to be a misstep somewhere.”

Westfall raised his hand, as if he were in class about to ask a question, “I’ll keep reviewing the old case files and see if any of the neighbors or staff have anything new to add.”

“This was personal, too,” Faliq added quietly. To the untrained eye, she looked bored as she stared blankly ahead of her. But Rowan could see the intensity behind her eyes. She was planning something. “Maeve might have kept a memento, or a keepsake.”

Aelin walked over to where Rowan stood, looked into his green eyes for a long moment, then reached out for his hand. His fist was clenched, but it wasn’t until Aelin’s fingers pushed his apart that he realized how tightly he’d been holding onto the ring. “I know this is a lot to ask,” Aelin said quietly, too quietly for anyone else to hear. “But you’re the only person who Maeve trusts enough. If I give this to you, if I trust you to take it to her,” the golden ring in her eyes flashed, “can I trust you to help us?”

Heart stuttering in his chest, Rowan couldn’t tear his gaze away no matter how hard he tried. She was trusting him. This girl who had been betrayed so many times—by her family, by Arobynn, by her friends—and she was trusting him. Suddenly the ring in his hand felt much too heavy.

Curling his hand around hers, the ring locked between their grasp, Rowan nodded. You can trust me.

Aelin’s eyes softened. Good, they said.

“Good job, cuz,” Aedion said, standing up suddenly and coming to sling an arm around Aelin, “Sounds like you’ve got everything covered.”

“Not everything,” Havilliard chimed in. Everyone looked back at him. “How do you plan on regaining your family’s fortunes once this is all over?”

Grinning slyly, Aelin said, “You don’t have to worry about that.”

More than mildly concerned, Rowan narrowed his eyes at the young assassin, but didn’t ask. This wasn’t the time or the place.

Rolling his eyes, Havilliard pressed, “Fine, but then what about back up? If Maeve finds out what we’re up to before we get to trial, or tries to off us during trial, we need to be ready, and like Athril said, she has an army of killers.”

“The police will protect us,” Westfall said, so confident and sincere.

Faliq snorted, drawing Westfall’s glare. She raised her hands to signal peace. “Look, the police might protect some of us but definitely not all of us.”

“And some of us don’t need protection,” Aedion grinned, his face almost identical to the one Aelin made earlier but with a touch more teeth. “Besides, we’ve got the Bane to back us.”

Havilliard hummed. Then, ever so delicately, he pulled out his phone and began to type. “If you say so.”

“Hey,” Aedion frowned, “who’re you texting?”

Looking over his shoulder, Westfall sighed and shook his head, “He’s just on Tindr.”

Faliq slapped a hand over her eyes and Aelin laughed.

“What is Tindr?” The old man asked.

Shaking his head, the young man behind him patted him on his shoulder, “I’ll tell you tomorrow, grandpa. It’s late though, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up at Aelin, “We’re done for tonight, right?”

“Yeah, Ren,” Aelin nodded. “Thanks for letting us crash here.”

Rolling his eyes, his responded blithely, “Anytime.”

Once Ren and the old man, Rowan looked around the room. There were only a couple of couches and he didn’t see any blankets or pillow. Holding back a grimace, he resigned himself to a night on the hard floor. “So who’s taking first shift?”

“No one,” Aelin answered him, opening a closet door and pulling out some blankets and pillows. “This house may look like its about to fall over, but Ren’s done a good job with the security system.”

Havilliard got up and stretched. “Besides,” he yawned, “I need my eight hours or else I’m useless come morning.”

Rowan had to wonder if the mayor’s son was truly ever useful.

“Come on, Chaol,” the dark-haired man called over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

“I’ll come up in a few minutes,” Westfall went to follow, pulling out his phone, “I just need to call Yrene first.”

Faliq snorted, “A few minutes—yeah, right.” She went to follow them out. “You two have never had a conversation shorter than two hours.”

Sputtering, the police officer blushed a ruddy red, “That’s just—we have a lot to catch up on, okay?”

And then Rowan was alone with the cousins.

Aelin pulled the cushions off one of the couches, throwing them all about the room without a care. Looking at Aedion, Rowan raised a brow.

Aedion sneered back. “What she we do with the Cleaner? Everywhere’s full.” And you’re not bunking with me, his eyes practically screamed.

Crossing his arms, Rowan silently replied, I’m heartbroken.

“He’ll sleep down here with me,” Aelin said simply.

Rowan blinked, looking back at the young assassin and watching her pull on a handle to bring out a pull-out bed.

“What?” Aedion barked, his brows raised. “But he could—”

“What?” Aelin repeated, standing straight to look at her cousin. Placing a hand on her hip, she continued, “Try to kill me? If he’s going to try anything like that then it’s best he’s near me.” Her blue eyes locked onto his green ones. Try anything buzzard and I’ll end you.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, I’d expect nothing less.

“Now go on,” Aelin shooed Aedion out of the room. “You still have to check in on the Bane.”

Obviously unhappy with the situation, Aedion gave Rowan once last glare before heading out.

When Aelin turned back to him, he cleared his throat, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, you will,” she tossed him a couple blankets.

They spent the rest of the time preparing their beds in silence. Aelin kept trying to fluff up her pillow with no luck.

Laying down on his back, Rowan made sure both Aelin and the room’s entrance were within his eyeline. He didn’t really think Aelin would try to slit his throat in his sleep—she could have done that easily in the car—but there were too many people underneath this roof for him to let his guard down even an inch.

Sighing, Aelin gave up on her pillow and flopped onto her back. “What do you say, buzzard?” She asked, “Light on or off?”

“On,” he replied easily.

Aelin snorted but then rolled over, facing away from him. Staring up at the ceiling, Rowan thought of what tomorrow would bring. He and Aelin would return to the city and part ways. She’d return to her shadows and he would return to Maeve with her ring. He wondered how she’d react. Would she be happy? Would she celebrate him and praise him?

Lorcan would be furious. Connall too, probably. Vaughan wouldn’t care, fully expecting Rowan’s return. Fenrys would make a joke, most likely calling Rowan an errand boy or something equally trivial. Gavriel though, he’d smile kindly and raise a glass in Rowan’s honor.

Chest tightening, Rowan thought of how they’d react once they learned of his betrayal. The six of them had been together for years now. They’d fought together, killed together, helped each other survive. They were a cadre. And even though Gavriel was the only one Rowan could safely call his friend, he would miss them.

He’d been relieved, earlier, when Aelin hadn’t pushed him for a motive. If she had, Rowan didn’t know what he’d say. That he knew what it was like to lose someone you loved? That if he could he’d tear the people responsible apart with his bare hands? No, he shook his head, dispelling the thoughts of a soft smile turned bloody, of dark eyes looking vacantly up at him. Swallowing thickly, Rowan took a deep breath.

“Rowan?” Aelin’s voice, so soft and quiet, called out to him. Rowan blinked, having thought she’d fallen asleep already. “I,” she paused. Then, “Thank you.”

Brows furrowing, he asked, “For what?”

Aelin turned over but didn’t look him in the eyes. “For believing me. For helping me.” Finally, her blue and gold eyes met his, and something inside Rowan’s chest loosened. “Thank you.”

Rowan held her gaze for a few moments longer, then he nodded.

Turning over again, Aelin’s breathing soon evened out. Rowan wasn’t sure if she were truly asleep or if she were just pretending to be and found himself not caring. Closing his eyes, Rowan listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart and let it lull him into a light sleep.

He woke up a few times in the night. First because Westfall was trying to find his way in the dark to what Rowan could only guess was the kitchen for some water. Then around midnight Aedion snuck in to check in on him. The third time was just as the sun was cresting over the horizon, and it was because Aelin rolled over to get out of bed and the mattress creaked.

Looking over at him with a wince, Aelin whispered, “Sorry.”

Dragging a hand down his face, Rowan shook his head, “It’s fine.” He should get up anyway. They had a long day ahead of them. “Any chance I can take a hot shower?”

Aelin nodded, “Yeah,” she stretched, showing a bit of skin along her belly. “The bathroom upstairs works fine.”

Pursing his lips, Rowan was more than a little suspicious at Aelin’s words but left the room all the same. In the light of day, the house looked even worse. Rowan could see scorch marks along the stairs and was pretty sure there was mold growing in the hallway. To his surprise, though, the bathroom was completed rehabilitated with white tile, stainless steel faucets, and even a glass shower. Frowning around at the room, he tried to figure out why this one room was perfectly up to date and untouched by the decay that plagued the rest of the house. Knowing there really wasn’t time to dive into that mystery, Rowan quickly disrobed and jumped into the shower, thanking whatever gods existed for the scalding hot water that came from the pipes.

After finishing, Rowan put his clothes back on and then found some mouthwash to swish in his mouth. Feeling more like a human, he headed back downstairs and found Aelin, Havilliard, and Aedion in the kitchen.

It was surprising to find the mayor’s son up and awake so early. According to his sources, the modern-day prince liked to live a life of luxury and rarely got out of bed before ten.

“Still alive, huh?” Aedion grunted around a mouth full of toast.

Ignoring the pup, Rowan asked Aelin, “What time are we leaving?”

Buttering her own slice of toast, Aelin shrugged, “Once everyone’s up and ready. Before noon. I want to make sure we have on last check in.”

Nodding, Rowan grabbed what he hoped was a clean mug from a cabinet and filled it with coffee. He was just about to sit down when a knock came at the front door.

The room snapped to attention.

“What the hell?” Aedion snarled.

The person knocked again. Louder this time. Footsteps were heavy and frantic overhead.

Havilliard, looking much too relaxed, took a sip of his coffee and asked, “Should someone answer that?”

“That’s not our knock,” Aelin answered, pulling a pair steak knife out from a drawer and handing one to Rowan. “Bane?” She asked her cousin.

Shaking his head, Aedion looked at his phone. “No one could’ve gotten past them.”

Barreling down the stairs, Westfall ran into the room with wide eyes and a gun in his hand. “What’s happening? Are we being attacked?”

The knock turned into a slam, the person on the other side obviously not happy about being left waiting.

“Oh fine,” Havilliard sighed. And then, with a surprising burst of speed, he slipped past the four of them and bee lined it for the door. “I’ll see who it is.”

“Dorian!” Westfall hissed. He reached for his friend but was too late.

Opening the door without a care in the world, Havilliard greeted the stranger. “You’re just in time!”

“What,” Chaol took in a deep breath before continuing, “the fuck, Dorian?”

Rowan stepped forward to see a young woman standing across from Dorian. Her hair was whiter than snow and she barred her teeth at them in an iron-like smile.

“Rutting hell,” Aedion swore, looking pale.

Aelin stepped forward, a glare on her face, and said, “Manon.”

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #tog #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall #nesryn faliq #manon blackbeak #ren allsbrook #grandpa allsbrook #one step ahead

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