Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN
“The guy with the tattoos on his arms,” I say. “He was here yesterday. Where is he?”
“Martell?” Stefan asks. He looks over his shoulder. “He’s here somewhere, he never misses training.”
“He’s not here,” Piper says, her voice grave.
“Who is he?” I ask. “What are those tattoos?”
“He’s a mercenary,” Piper explains. “Doesn’t belong to any particular pack. Hires out his skills in fighting, scouting, whatever.”
“That would explain the tattoos,” I mutter. “I know someone with the same ones. Or, at least, I’ve seen them.”
“Another mercenary,” Stefan nods.
“I can’t believe Martell would do this,” Piper says. “He’s been training with us and Sterling for so long!”
“Mercenaries all have a price,” I say. “If someone offered him something incredibly valuable to betray Sterling, perhaps he could have been bought off.”
“But who would have something that Martell would want badly enough to do that?” Stefan asks.