"Get your best men," Atticus ordered, quickly making his way to the armory.
There was no time to waste. The southern part of the slums was rowdy and was known for the crimes, unrest rising in recent days. Jonah and his men had been working hard in attempting to stamp down the crime rate but it was a slow and difficult task. If Daphne was indeed there, every second wasted could be a second too late.
Jonah nodded, his face grim. He immediately barked out orders and his men quickly gathered with their weapons as though the hellhounds were behind them.
"I'm going ahead," Atticus barked out without sparing Jonah even a second glance. He saddled Sable on his own and took off in the direction of the slums without a backward glance.
His departure sent a cloud of dust into Jonah's face, who merely coughed and waved at the air, grimacing.
