Handsome, smart, and dangerous, Lieutenant Colonel Roth Jaeger of the Black Rose Company is a highly skilled mercenary. Unfortunately, he’s also a playboy extraordinaire with a nasty habit of not paying his debts. Jaeger is about to discover that karma can be a really cunning Fox.
In the heart of Old Town, the sleek black automobile eased down the cobblestone road of the heavily shadowed alleyway. It rolled to a stop before the massive wooden gates to the entertainment district. The back passenger door behind the driver opened.
With a smile of anticipation, Roth Jaeger stepped out of the car. The long tendrils of his red hair lifted in the rising breeze to caress his bare cheeks. His ruffled white collar fluttered against the black velvet lapels of his aqua and teal long coat embroidered with roses in gold thread. The long hem of the open coat brushed against his creased charcoal slacks. Dust from the road whispered across his freshly shined black dress shoes.
Roth turned to look up beyond the sharply peaked and deeply shadowed gothic skyline of the aged town. The last rays of sunlight bled along the undersides of the distant clouds. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that behind him, on the other side of the tall wooden wall, deep shadows filled the narrow alleyways of the labyrinthine entertainment district. Contemplating the view, he smoothed a hand along his goatee and the trimmed hair lining his jawline.
It was almost time.
The driver’s side window rolled down, and a young man with fly-away silver-blond hair looked out. He frowned, his slender brows dropping low over his ash-gray eyes. A jagged scar marked his face from his right eye down to his jaw. “Lieutenant Colonel Jaeger, please tell me that I don’t need to pack our gear to flee yet another city?”
Roth turned to smirk at the young man. “Whatever do you mean, First Lieutenant?”
The young First Lieutenant scowled openly. “I mean, sir, do you actually plan on sticking around and paying your bills this time, or are you planning on leaving me behind to clean up your wine, women, and gambling debts again?”
Roth smoothed away his smirk and lifted a slender red brow. “You know, you could quit the Company and find gainful employment elsewhere…?” He abruptly winced and snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait, my mistake, you can’t.” He smiled brightly. “No honest merchant will hire someone with that kind of sword scar.”
The young man’s gaze narrowed into an open glare. “And who put that scar there?” He curled his lip in a snarl. “Sir.”
Roth shrugged and looked away. “Not my fault you didn’t dodge the practice sword fast enough, Ash.”
“I was eleven!”
Roth turned just enough to shoot a corner of the eye glare at the blond youth. “Are you saying I should have left you to starve to death in that burned-out town? That I shouldn’t have brought you into the company, fed you, clothed you, and taught you how to be a halfway decent fighter?”
The young man turned away, scowling ferociously. “In addition to how to cheat at cards, dice, and mahjong. All while dodging debt collectors in town after town when you remembered to bring me with you.” He glared at the windshield. “Sir.”
The deep, sonorous bell bonged out from the hilltop church on the other side of the city. The tones echoed long and loud, once, twice, thrice.
Roth looked up at the darkening sky and nodded. Ah, there… The day was officially over, and night had begun. He turned to face the immense gate and the iron-studded plank doors that barred it. “You are dismissed, First Lieutenant.”
Behind him, the car’s engine started. “You are a total bastard, Jaeger.”
Roth nodded. “Comes with the job, Ash.”
The two-story tall doors rattled, clanked, and opened outward.
Roth strode beyond them without hesitation, his blood surging in anticipation.
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