"A man they call Neil told me to stop by here," Jericho answered.
The blond took a sip of his ale. He was smiling again, but Jericho wasn't fooled by the carefree demeanor anymore. "I've heard of Neil, but then I've heard of a few men called Neil over the years."
"As we all have." Jericho looked around as he realized things had begun to change in the tavern. Though conversation, drinking, and the clatter of dice and dominoes continued from the tables surrounding them, there had been a shifting amongst the crowd. Most of the attention was now focused upon them, upon him. He wasn't afraid of anyone in this room and though it would blow his cover, if it came down to it, he could destroy each and every one of them. "Neil told me his cousin would be here."
The young man's eyebrows furrowed as he studied the room. "Timber over there has a cousin named Neil."
Jericho didn't have to ask who Timber was, or why they called him that; the sheer size of the man was enough to rival the sequoias that he'd once seen in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Ok, so maybe he'd have a tough time taking down that guy, Jericho thought as he turned away from the giant who was currently grinning at the woman seated in his lap. Jericho had a suspicious feeling that Timber was more aware of him, and the man he was talking to, than the woman though.
"I don't think that's the guy I'm looking for," Jericho told him.
"What makes you say that?"
"I only received a vague description of the man, but I imagine part of that description would have included the fact that he could rip my head off with his bare hands."
The blond chuckled and real amusement filtered back into his eyes. "Do you know the name of the man you're looking for?"
"David."
The young man nodded and gulped down his tankard of ale. "I know many a David too." He lifted his hand in the air and gestured to Kelly with a subtle flicker of his long fingers. The tips of his fingers were streaked with black. Jericho frowned as he tried to figure out what the blackness was. It didn't appear to be dirt but he didn't know what would have stained the boy's fingers like that.
Jericho watched as Kelly reappeared with another tankard for the boy and one more for him. The sound of a chair scraping out form the table drew his attention from the boy and Kelly. He turned as a man settled with ease into the chair across from him. The man's arms folded over his chest; his face was expressionless as he studied Jericho with shrewd green eyes. His reddish brown hair was tussled but clean for someone that lived amongst this area of the woods.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jericho saw that the young blond was holding the newly delivered tankard in his hand. From his vantage point, he spotted the gleam of something tucked into the boy's sleeve. Kelly may have been eyeing him like a fresh piece of meat she wanted to devour, but she had still surreptitiously slipped the blond a knife with her last drink delivery. There was no amusement in the blond's eyes anymore as they met and held his gaze.
Rebel, the thought blazed across his mind.
The wisdom and horror of the rebel's everyday life was now on full display in the subtle lines on the younger man's face. The rebels wore the knowledge of those that had lost too much on their faces and in their eyes. The sand slipping rapidly through the hourglass of their lives was something that they endured every day they awoke. He'd only met a handful of the true rebels over the past couple of years, but he realized now he was nestled amongst them.
He was a snake within a den of rats.
"I've also known a David or two in my lifetime," the older man across from him stated.
He was younger than Jericho had anticipated, but he knew without having to be told that this was the man he had been searching for, the man he'd been sent to help destroy. He fought the urge to shift in his chair as his fangs pricked with anticipation. He could kill this man right now and put a nail in the coffin of the entire rebellion. He'd been sent to infiltrate the rebel group though, to learn as much as he could about the rebellion before reporting back to his father, the vampire king.
He steadied his impulse to leap across the table and break the man's neck by taking a small sip of ale. Finally he would have a chance to prove himself to his father, a chance to show that he wasn't simply the unnecessary, easily kicked around youngest prince. He would have a chance to prove that he was just as ruthless as his middle brother Caleb. That he could be just as determined and relentless as his oldest brother Braith.
He took another sip and placed the mug down on the table. He was so close, he couldn't ruin his chances now, but he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. "I see," Jericho murmured.
The man smiled at Kelly as she placed a bowl of steaming soup and a mug before him. "Thank you Kelly." She flashed a smile that showcased her remaining teeth and strode away with an even more inviting sway of her hips. The man shook his head, lifted his spoon, and blew on the soup. "So a man named Neil sent you here?"
"Yes," Jericho answered.
"What did he tell you about this David?"
Jericho was growing tired of the subterfuge and games. He'd had enough of that with his father; he wasn't going to play those same games with this man. "He told me that you were the leader of the rebellion."
The man paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth, for a minute he remained unmoving and then a smile slipped over his face. "I see. What's your interest in the rebellion?"
"I would like to join. I'm strong, fast. I'm a good hunter and an even better fighter. I'll be a valuable asset."
"I'll be the judge of that." The man dropped the spoon and leaned back in his chair to survey Jericho with eyes that though they weren't as callous as his own father's, they were every bit as astute. Jericho bristled at the thought of being judged by this human; he'd been judged and found lacking by his father his entire life. He wasn't about to be sized up by a man he could kill in the blink of an eye if he so chose.