Caed glanced between the dead woman and the rest of the room. It was in disarray, even before he caught her and hauled her back in with him. Atop the bed post was a discarded shirt, a dagger that had been lain on a bedside table, and the remnants of a rushed exit that were all over the place. He sighed, taking his spectacles in between his fingers to wipe them off with a cloth he procured from his pocket.
He was still coming down from his momentary high. Just touching that girl had kicked his natural affinity into overdrive. So much so that he killed the whore when he only meant to stop her from fleeing. He doubted she could have told him much, but still Caed looked her smashed features over with a pitiful frown. Setting his glasses over the rim of his hat, he investigated the items in the room.
With the shirt in hand he caught a minor vision. Nothing too concrete, which frustrated him, but he had a semblance of the owner’s features. A man. Tall, well-built, maybe some hair on him. The one who paid the whore, definitely. Maybe he had forgone this article of clothing during his quick exit.
Caed took the dagger next. He was sorely unprepared, once again, for the intensity that rushed through his veins. His eye ached, the red circle pulsating wildly. This one belonged to “Anaya,” then. Taking a moment to compose himself, Caed looked the dagger over while he considered what he knew.
When he first saw “Anaya” he could have sworn she was a dead woman. Veleria Garris. Human. Petty thief, however useful at gathering information for the lady Alk’Hath. So useful, in fact, that Alk’Hath had been quite bothered by her betrayal. Vos’iin took her slaying to task. Brutal, that creature, though Caed figured it was better than what some of the others may have had in mind. At least the elf just killed his victims.
He wasn’t able to procure a vision from the dagger. It was simply too much, and his eye couldn’t hold onto anything solid. When he put it down, though, he wondered. She had been itching to run the moment he mentioned he mistook her. The body type, the hair, the skin color. Everything. Everything, except the eyes, screamed Veleria to him. That, and the fact that the girl was an actual bonefied source. Veleria had most certainly not been one. If she had, then Alk’Hath would never have let her go.
Caed tapped his foot.
Could something have taken Veleria’s body? What use would a bloodless body be, though? He didn’t know enough about sources to say for certain. He needed more. Caed approached the bed closest to where the dagger was. So long as the man she was with hadn’t lain with her, then the only traces that remained should be Anaya’s. He reasoned the man wouldn’t need a whore if the girl was offering.
“Give me something.” He whispered.
Caed set both his hands betwixt the sheets. The effect was immediate. So intense was the vision, in fact, that the man collapsed onto one knee. His entire body shook while the images coursed through his mind—raging fire, a disfiguring scar, and the golden eyes that had so captivated him.
He let go, kneeling before the bed for a time while he gathered himself. Anaya—no, Veleria’s scar was right where it needed to be: In the direct center of her chest, between her breasts. Without a doubt the wound was an exact match to the description Vos’iin had given the sorceress. Caed released a delayed sigh. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. There was much to consider, least of all that Veleria was alive.
He wanted her.