Raven's Will

43. Why am I here?

"Gentlemen," Raith looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering longer on Gray than any of the others. There was a subtle warning hidden in those eyes, one that Gray found unsettling – did he know? – but he refused to acknowledge it just the same.

He met the Scout flyer's gaze with a calm he did not feel, holding it with a stubborn determination. In his opinion, Raith was a lot like Syk in that both of them were snakes. They poked and prodded until they found a weak spot, and then they'd bite, injecting their venom so they could watch their victim writhe in agony. Raith was a lot more subtle about it, but that didn't make it any better.

Just try it, he thought grimly. He narrowed his eyes a fraction. I've been around the block a few times. You ain't the first snake I've met.

Raith's lips twitched as he broke the gaze, moving on to the mountain of a flyer that stood next to Gray.

The Mountain flyer humphed and folded huge arms across his broad chest. "Just get on with it, Raith." It was probably the most words Gray had ever heard the man speak at once, and he turned his head to stare.

Nothing was going as he expected these days. And he was getting sick of it. Constantly being thrown off his guard, getting slapped by one surprise after the other, it was getting difficult to think with all the noise. He wasn't sure how much more of it he could take before he snapped.

Gray bit back a snarl. It's his fault! Rage growled in his heart, along with a complicated slew of things he didn't want to even think about. Everything had been ruined, and it was all thanks to a purple-eyed bonehead of a flyer.

"Hello, Gray," he'd said, as if nothing had happened. As if everything was just as it was before it all went to hell a few months ago. As if he hadn't died and vanished from the face of the earth. As if his stupid kid hadn't turned traitor and fled Troit, leaving Gray the only Talon left to deal with the mess.

The nerve of that man. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He should have punched the bastard a lot harder.

"I believe we've found our target's location," Raith told them. Behind him, leaning against one of the tent's supports, was Syk. He'd been lurking around the Scout a lot, lately. The two of them were thick as thieves, which didn't exactly give Gray good vibes.

Gray gave the Twelve medic a dark stare. He wasn't surprised when Syk's head turned and those pale eyes met his own. A slow, chilling smile carved itself across that narrow face, not even coming close to reaching the medic's stone-cold eyes. Gray sneered and deliberately looked away.

The know-it-all medic had already lost. Too bad he didn't know it. They thought they were hunting down a boy, a baby Talon, but they didn't know of the looming shadow waiting for them. That thought soothed his anger some, redirecting it toward something dark and gleeful.

"Where?" Maji Ra's voice was soft, but clear. The small River flyer sat on the ground, legs folded beneath himself. He had one of his blades unsheathed on his lap. It wasn't one of the modern types manufactured by Troit, but one of the older styles made by folding steel in a forge. It gleamed a bright silver, the shine brought out by the soft cloth that Maji Ra currently polished it with.

"Shann Tei," Raith stated. He waited, but no one said anything. It seemed the answer didn't surprise anyone. Gray watched the Scout closely, but Raith schooled his features well, betraying nothing. A rather fitting location, isn't it, Raith?

Lante rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He sat on the corner of the table that served as Raith's desk. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing conclusive," Raith said. "One of my scouts didn't report back."