A burly bartender approached their table, his gaze cold and calculating. "What'll it be?" he grunted, wiping down the scarred wooden surface with a rag.
Amara exchanged a glance with Boros before speaking up. "We're looking for information," she said evenly. "About a mercenary named Kaelan."
The bartender's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he regarded them. "What's it worth to you?" he replied bluntly.
Leoforn reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pouch of gold coins, tossing it onto the table with a resounding thud. "Will this do?" he asked casually.
A flicker of greed crossed the bartender's face as he scooped up the pouch and examined its contents. "It'll do," he said with a nod.
Leaning in closer, Amara lowered her voice to a whisper. "We need to know who hired Kaelan to attack us," she explained. "And why."
The bartender's gaze shifted to the scar on Amara's cheek, lingering for a moment before he spoke. "I can give you a name," he said slowly. "But it'll cost you."
Amara's grip tightened on the edge of the table as she braced herself for his response. "Name your price," she replied, her voice unwavering.
A sly grin spread across the bartender's face as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want a favor," he said softly. "Something only you can provide."
As the weight of his words sank in, Amara knew that their journey was far from over. With each step they took, the stakes grew higher and their enemies more formidable.
But she also knew that they were stronger together—that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, they would face them head-on.
And with that thought in mind, she met the bartender's gaze and nodded. Whatever it took, she was ready to see this through to the end.
Boros led them to the back of the dimly lit bar, they could hear the sounds of grunting and moaning. An X-rated orgy was going on, and they knew exactly what needed to be done.
"Is this really necessary?" Amara whispered as they approached the door.
Damion turned to her with a sly grin. "You know I've always had a thing for undercover missions," he said, his voice low and husky. "Besides, this might be our best chance at getting that information."
Amara rolled her eyes playfully as she reached out and grabbed Damion's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "Just try not to get too distracted," she teased.
Boros knocked on the door three times in a specific pattern, and it swung open to reveal a burly man with a shaved head and a chest covered in tattoos.
He regarded them suspiciously for a moment before stepping aside, allowing them to enter. The room was dimly lit, with several mattresses scattered across the floor and bodies entwined in various sexual positions.
Amara felt her cheeks flush as she took in the scene before her. It had been a while since she'd seen anything quite so explicit.
Boros led them through the maze of bodies until they reached a man who was lying on his back while two women straddled him, their hands roaming over his muscular chest.
"Kaelan," Boros called out over the moans and sighs filling the air.
Kaelan opened one eye lazily, his gaze shifting from Boros to Amara and Damion. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he motioned for the women to move aside.
"Well, well, well," Kaelan drawled. "If it isn't my favorite group of do-gooders."
Amara resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she took a step forward, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "We need to have a little chat," she said, her tone firm and commanding.
Kaelan chuckled as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, the two women still clinging to him like eager kittens. "And what makes you think I'm in the mood for a chat?" he asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Amara leaned in closer until her lips were mere inches from Kaelan's ear. "Because if you don't, I'll make sure those pretty little playthings of yours never touch you again," she whispered, her voice laced with threat.
A shiver ran down Kaelan's spine as he met Amara's gaze. There was a fire burning in her eyes—a dangerous intensity that sent a thrill coursing through him.
"Well then," Kaelan said with a smirk as he extricated himself from the women's grasp. "I suppose we have some talking to do."
He led them to a quieter corner of the room, his bare feet padding against the cold stone floor. As they settled onto one of the unoccupied mattresses, Kaelan regarded them curiously.
"So," he began. "What brings you lovely folks here tonight?"
Amara got straight to the point. "Who hired you to attack us?" she asked, her voice steady and unwavering.
Kaelan raised an eyebrow at her question before responding. "Now why would I give up that information so easily?" he mused.
Damion leaned forward, his expression hardening. "Because if you don't," he growled. "I'll make sure your little escapades here come to an abrupt end."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Kaelan's face at Damion's threat. He was used to being in control—of having others bend to his will.
But there was something different about this group. Something that made him hesitate—made him consider the consequences of defying them.
"Alright, alright," Kaelan said with a sigh. "You win. Her name is Valeria. She's a powerful sorceress with a grudge against you."
Amara's heart skipped a beat at Kaelan's words. A sorceress? That certainly explained the magical attacks they'd been facing.
"But why?" she asked, her voice filled with confusion and frustration.
Kaelan shrugged nonchalantly as he met Amara's gaze. "You'll have to ask her yourself," he replied.
Amara clenched her fists at her sides, a surge of determination coursing through her veins. She would find this Valeria—find out what had driven her to such extremes.
And when she did, there would be hell to pay.