𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 || 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘞𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘸 (2) ✓

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

Revna's POV:

The bitter cold froze the bones in my fingers and made my joints ache while I curled my fingers in the cloth of my shirt, stripping off the layers I had on and putting on some fresh, warm clothes. I glanced at Peter and then the note, sighing through my nose while I gathered my clothes and walked to the main floor of the inn.

I laid my clothes out in front of the fire, taking a seat in front of it in hopes to bring some warmth to my bones.

"Кто дал тебе записку? (Who gave you the note?)." I asked the innkeeper.

"Я не получил имя. (I didn't get a name)." She replied and I clenched my jaw, staring into the hot flames, hearing the crackles and snaps of the embers.

"Ты боишься? (Are you afraid)" she asked after a small pause.

My eyes remained trained on the fire in front of me, my voice sporting an even tone, "Для себя? Нет, для моих друзей, да. (For myself? No. For my friends, yes)."

The older woman smiled gently, scurrying away behind the bar and coming back out with a few tankards of what smelled like mead. The herbal smell wasn't hard to recognize.

She sat down next to me, handing me my cup and I thanked her quietly, taking a long sip of the beverage and the warmth ignited in my belly.

"Знаешь, если сбить одно домино, все они упадут. Он был мужчиной, высокий, носил маску с капюшоном. (you know, if you knock down one domino, they all come tumbling down. He was a man, tall, wore a mask with a hood.)"

My eyes snapped to hers, lowering the cup from my lips. So he was here. Why didn't he come and face me himself? Why was he hiding and being a coward. I wasn't going to play these games. If Taskmaster wanted me dead then he was going to have to kill me himself. I wasn't going to settle for any less, certainly not with the agents he was sending.

I wondered if he was after Natalia too. If the price was higher if it was just us two. I chugged down the rest of my mead and thanked the woman for the conversation. Taking the steps two at a time, I quickly darted towards the bed to shake Peter awake.

"Peter, get up." I said, shaking the boy. Peter groaned, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up, "what's going on?"

"We need to go." I said, grabbing my bags.

Peter sat up fully on the bed, rubbing his eyes again and when he opened them, looked more alert and awake, "What happened to you?! And your arm?!"

"Someone wants me dead." I replied, checking the mag of my pistol to see how many bullets I had left.

"Who?!" Peter gasped, putting his clothes on, hopping around as he did so.

"His name is Taskmaster, and he's been a stabbing thorn in my side since I was in the red room." I told him, stuffing the pistol in the waistband of my pants, "I'm hoping I can find out what happened if I go back."

"Well I'm coming with you." Peter said, puffing out his chest.

I looked at him for a moment, turning on my heel, "You're staying on the jet."

"But I don't want to. I can help! Please let me help!" Peter begged, jutting out his lower lip in an attempt to persuade me.

I pushed his face back, the kid groaning, "No. You can help by making me a new arm. I'd like to know why taskmasters weapons can cut through, supposedly, the strongest metal on earth."