Free Chaos Broken by Rebekah Turner Page A

here.’
    The other Runners filed out to the courtyard, grumbling under their breath.
    â€˜What happened?’ I asked Cloete.
    â€˜What do you think?’ she snapped. ‘I was cooking.’
    â€˜With what? Lamp oil?’ I waved a hand, trying to push some of the smoke outside the back door. The Runners had settled down around a table in the back courtyard and were drinking ales, muttering quietly among themselves.
    A year ago, Cloete had been caught in an explosion that had left some scarring on her arms and hands. Normally she displayed them proudly, but now I noticed she was wearing leather gloves, which I thought curious. Now she slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
    â€˜I was just trying to help.’
    â€˜Burning down the building isn’t the way to go about it,’ I said.
    â€˜Back off, Lora,’ Crowhurst said.
    I opened my mouth to tell him to get off my case, when I realised something and leaned closer to Cloete. ‘Are you wearing make up?’
    â€˜Just leave me alone.’ Cloete struggled with the apron, almost tearing it off, then storming out.
    Crowhurst shot me an annoyed look. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
    Making a small screaming noise in the back of my throat, I began cleaning up the mess. Crowhurst hesitated, then left the kitchen, calling after Cloete.
    As I scrubbed a pot, my thoughts wandered reluctantly to Poulter’s death. Had Kalin really killed Poulter? And if so, why? The Calling Circle had been obscured, so there was no way to tell what kind of darkcraft magic the kid had tried to use. Best guess was he was trying to call up a hellspawn for some favours, which usually demanded lifeblood. I’d called up a hellspawn or two myself in the past, though I’d never had to resort to lifeblood to power the spell. Instead, I’d had a small book of crude but unusual darkcraft, written in hellspeak that short-cut the process. If I still had my little cheat book of darkcraft spells, I could have called up my old snitch, Morious, and asked if he knew anything about Calling Circles filled with numbers. But that book of shady spells was gone now, burned in the same fire that marked Cloete.
    I was just thankful nothing had been summoned. If Sabine and I had found a hellspawn trapped inside a Calling Circle, I would have wet my pants and called for the Grigori myself. The priests themselves were a bunch of no-fun jerks who liked to beat their chests with fanatical ideas about a One True God, but they also commanded the Regulator units, with Witch Hunters who knew how to kill a hellspawn like nobody’s business. Conventional wisdom was that hellspawn couldn’t cross into The Weald from the Pit, but I’d seen it happen before. It wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat.
    Thinking about the Grigori got me thinking about Roman and, of course, that thought opened up a deep longing inside me. I wanted to see him, try to clear the air. But even here, so far away, my feelings were muddled, the right path unclear.
    â€˜You don’t need to do that.’
    Cloete stood in the doorway, glossy black tail wrapped around one thigh.
    â€˜It’s fine.’ I turned back to the pot, rinsing off the suds. ‘Sorry I yelled. It’s been a long day.’
    â€˜I was just trying to help.’
    â€˜I know.’
    Cloete leant a shoulder against the doorframe. ‘I heard you went to the Outlands to see Roman.’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Do you think he’ll ever return to The Weald?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I suppose it’s complicated.’ I nodded at her gloves. ‘Dressed up for a hot date?’
    Cloete shifted her hands behind her. ‘Uh, no. Just…trying to look nice, is all.’
    I stopped washing and stared at her. ‘Since when do you care about looking nice?’
    Her face flushed.
    I wiped my hands dry and folded my arms. ‘Kianna’s tits. You’re seeing someone,