Milo Snippet from when he first see's the MC (Patreon)

The wind whipped through the canyon, howling through the cracks of broken down establishments that had once stood proud and tall.  They were the remnants of some world or other.  Something that had fallen into the Night Market, becoming absorbed by its mystery, never to return home.  It’s how the market expanded. Milo theorized years ago that the market itself was sentient.  The following years had done nothing to prove him wrong.

Sitting at a broken table, a warm drink in hand, Milo stared out at the beach and the gathering crowd.  The docks would be busy tonight. Elias had thrown another tantrum and the crossfire had been dire.  Velvet Guards had been combing the streets for “bails” the last few days, trying to make up for it.  Because never mind actually punishing the man responsible for the situation.

“Tara got off okay.” The clinking of herbal tonics and overfilled vials sounded like bells as Hazel sat down next to Milo.  She scooted herself next to him on the bench, knocking at his spread legs and slouched form.  He grinned at her, a warmth to his face he often didn’t give others.

“Good. She was sweet.  Deserves to have a nice life from here.”

Hazel grabbed at his drink, sipping it and wrinkling her nose.  She didn’t give it back immediately, though, continuing to sample the contents of the tankard, despite her dislike.  “I have a free room this means,” she started. “Anyone stick out tonight?”

Milo tilted his head towards the slopping path ahead. It slid down from the open cave above. The one that housed all the cells and the over eager eyes of the Velvet Guard. “That one.”

“Which one.”

“That one.” He pointed towards a figure walking downwards, trailing behind the Guard Captain.  They were looking out at the beach before them, clearly not akin to what they were seeing.

“Oh,” Hazel breathed. “They look scared.”

“Scared?” Milo snorted. “No. They look angry. Mischievous. Absolutely delectable.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.”

Turning to her, Milo snatched back his drink. “That’s the one we’ll go after.  Get them from the clutches of Caine.”

“He’s not that bad.”

Sure, Milo thought, if you enjoyed a man with a proverbial stick up his ass.

Despite Hazel not hearing him, she still gave him that look.  Disapproval was heavy in her eyes when it came to Milo Next.  Though she had been giving it to him for years, Milo mainly remained unaffected by it.

Swinging an arm over her shoulder, he hugged her close.  She moved into his embrace willingly.  Sometimes, Milo was all she had.

“You want to get them or should I?”

“We can’t just walk up and steel them,” she commented.

“Why not? Caine knows we do it.  Let’s just cut out the middle process.”

Hazel tapped his knee. Again with the disapproval.  It allowed a low chuckle to escape from him as he finished off his drink. A drink that had been remarkably more full when she first sat down.

“Gabriel is not the one I am worried about in this situation. While you operate in between the lines here, I do wish to keep my business up and running.”

“I’d never jeopardize your shop,” he said, almost offended she would suggest such a thing.

“Then please do this right,” she urged.

Sighing, Milo upturned his mug.  The warden was leading the prisoner downwards now, locking them in one of the bottom cages.  He looked on edge tonight.  More so than he usually was. Probably due to the influx of prisoners.  Milo couldn’t help the small amount of joy at the thought of the other man's discomfort.

“Alright, tell you what. I’ll go get another drink. Mingle a bit. You do the same.  We’ll see who gets to them first.”

“Milo, they are obviously not from around here. They must be terrified. Can’t we just go and comfort them a bit? Promise them they won’t be sold off to the likes of Dragul or something?”

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to Hazel’s hair, lips brushing the frayed edges of the colorful scarf she had wrapped around her locks tonight. “There’s a process, Hazel,” he chided, turning the tables on her.  “Respect it.”

Hazel rolled her eyes, practically shoving him away.

Standing, Milo grabbed his tankard, bidding Hazel goodbye for the moment. There was a skip in his step as he made his way to the Saloons, watching the prisoner for the time being.  They would be an interesting one.  He could already tell.

Tilting his head back, he grinned. Excitement was on the wind tonight.  And by the Knowing, it felt damn good.