Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (black authors fiction txt) 📕

out already.” I knew they had deep pockets already. If they’re buying slaves, then I was right about my hunch. It must be who Darren and his ilk were working for, and we let him slip through our fingers.

Though slavers were a dime a dozen around here. Might ask around the auction house, see if I can bribe my way into some information, or beat it out of them—one of the two.

“That’s all you have for me?” I asked, skeptical.

He nodded his head. “Unfortunately. You could try asking around the merchants and slavers, see if anyone would be willing to talk, but I wouldn’t bet on it. The kind of money that’s being thrown around keeps lips tight.”

“Godsdamn it.”

I sighed deeply, rising from the comfortable seating. This was a waste of time, and questioning every Tom, Dick, and Harry, I could get my hands on was likely to end up the same way. What other choice do I have? No other leads and far too many questions.

“Well, thanks anyway. If you hear anything, I want to know about it first.” I slid across a small bag of gold. Not a fortune, but too much for the little information he’d delivered. If it saved me time and energy in the future, I’d consider it worth it. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Eris hooked her arm around mine, and I helped pull her out of the seat. Once she was standing on her own two feet, I dropped her arm, only to have her wind her fingers through mine.

“Have a good day, Duran,” Phineas called to me as we left.

I ignored him, putting him entirely out of my mind as we walked back through the dark hallway towards the door. If he can’t help us, I’ll have to find another informant who can.

Which meant I would have to call Wilson and perhaps even Evelyn. See if their contacts could come through for me. “Hassle upon hassle,” I muttered, turning to Eris as we left. “Looks like we’ll be spending a few more days in Central.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun. We can explore some more. See a few more sights.”

“That we can, love,” I said as I stepped outside, into the darkened alleyway and right into the fist of an unknown assailant.

It crashed into me like the fury of a god, knocking me to the ground and sending my head spinning. I spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth onto the street, which was already covered in blood.

Too much blood to have come from me.

I looked up to see Doorman, dead on the street. His throat was slashed and spilling all-too-human blood onto the stone. I guess I found my answer after all these years.

Standing only brought more pain as a foot slammed into the side of my face, sending me right back to the ground.

More pain as my opponent kicked me—sharp pain to my chest, ribs, and stomach. I was grabbed roughly by the hair and dragged out of the doorway. I fell on my back as warm blood poured out of me, pooling and mixing with Doorman’s.

My attacker stood over me, through my swollen eyelids, I could make out the smug, smiling face of Darren.

“Surprise,” he taunted.

Footsteps scuffled from my left, and I turned my head to see Eris fighting five of Darren’s goons, and it wasn’t going well.

Eris summoned a swarm of insects. Spiders and cockroaches poured out of the filthy alley, but the second they appeared, Darren paled, letting go of me to deal with her.

He pulled a syringe from his long brown coat and jabbed the needle into her neck. A second later, she slumped over, unconscious. With the stream of magic cut off, the bugs fled back to their homes.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Can’t have you ruining my plans with your little insects, girl. I won’t have you fuck things up twice,” Darren said. “Take her while I deal with him.”

I stood to my feet, fighting back the pain to face Darren.

“You’re not going to fucking touch her!”

Three of the goons rushed me while the largest goon, a thick built man with dead eyes, carried her over his shoulder. The men were big and clumsy in their black leather armor. All clearly used to their size and intimidation getting them whatever they wanted. From their movements, I could tell they only had the barest hint of how to actually fight. Even wounded, I can take them.

The first guy, tall with a shaved head and a wispy beard, put all of his weight on his right leg as he swung a wide right haymaker.

I stepped toward him, threw my left hand just over his bicep, and brought it around back to me, clenching tight. With his arm trapped, I rotated my shoulder and brought his entire torso toward the ground. He struggled against me, but I had the leverage. I brought my knee up sharply, slamming it to his face.

Blood rained from his broken flesh, but I wasn’t done. The other goons were on me, but I kept a lock on the one in my grasp and kept his body between the others. With a twist, I pulled bleeding goon’s arm from his socket and shoved him towards his comrades.

He careened into one of them, taking him to the ground, but I didn’t manage to get both. The other one, a lanky man with a pockmarked face and thick, curly hair, threw a few jabs at me.

I slipped his punches and hit him with a left hook. Teeth flew as his head snapped to the side, and he staggered from the blow. I brought a low roundhouse to his chest and fractured his ribs. He went down and stayed there, clutching his side.

The final goon was getting off the ground, and I didn’t bother fighting him. I took my hunting