Taken

Chapter 15 (Part 2)

My brows furrowed at his choice of words. Wasn't fairy considered an insult-

An audible gasp escaped my lips as an invisible force had Jarvis lurched forward, the smile slipping from his lips. His head slammed into the table with such force that it rattled our drinks, causing the contents to slosh onto the table. His friends looked as surprised as his shout, which had shifted into a yelp of pain, had sounded.

Though Silas hadn't moved, the breeze that blew my hair back told me everything I needed to know. Apparently, it conveyed the same to the other two men who were now watching him with wide-eyed caution as they helped their friend straighten and steady himself.

"Care to repeat yourself? Or would you rather walk away while you still have the ability to?" Silas calmly asked, his tone adding to the threat his words carried.

"Let's just go. I don't want to cause trouble with a High Fae," the shortest one, Quinn, whispered into his dazed friend's ear. But he didn't seem ready to leave.

Jarvis, whose forehead was now red, seemed ready to argue, but before he could, the other fae, Elion, placed a hand on his shoulder. With a firm grip, he leaned towards him, speaking into his ear words only he could hear over the noise surrounding us. Using his hold, he steered him away from us as he spoke, wanting to get him away before he could provoke Silas further.

Still, Jarvis wasn't one to leave without a fight, even if it wasn't with the man he wanted to lash out at. He began to argue with the larger fae as he led him towards the door, deciding to find a different establishment given that half the patrons in the tavern had seen what had happened and were still watching. As they were stepping out, the dark-haired leader turned to send us a pointed glare that had me feeling uneasy before the door shut to cut it off.

"Was that necessary?" I asked as Silas took another sip.

"Yes," he stated, not caring to elaborate.

I let out a sigh and picked my glass up from the puddle of mead it now sat in. I hated violence, but sadly, I was far too used to it. At least this time it worked in my favour.

* * *

My leg bounced under the table, the sticky floor sticking to the bottom of my boot at the restless movement. Though my stomach was no longer growling, filled with the delicious lentil soup Silas had ordered for us when it had begun to sound its hunger, it was now turning with impatience. It had been hours since we had first sat down, and although we had seen countless faces enter and exit, there was still no sign of Nolik in the growing crowd.

"What if he doesn't show?" I asked brusquely, not liking the thought that had been plaguing my mind.

"Then we extend our stay. We're not going back until we find him," Silas said, the answer already prepared.

My brows furrowed. "And you think sitting here day after day watching everyone who enters wouldn't draw suspicions?" I asked dragging my eyes away from the lively room to look at him.

"Our glamours have anyone who looks our way seeing new faces each time they do. The only ones who can see through it are High Fae and there are none to be found here," Silas assured, not sounding the least bit worried.

"Except you," I couldn't help but point out. Despite being a half-blood.

His eyes narrowed. "Except me," he ground out, reaching for his nearly empty glass as he focused his eyes back on the door. It was a wonder how he was so unaffected by the drink that had me more than a little tipsy when I had finished my first pint. He had consistently been ordering and leisurely sipping one each hour or so.