A/N: Hello to all my new readers, we've reached double digits! Hope you're all still enjoying this little tale, and look our for some familiar faces in this chapter. ;) Things are about to start ramping up. See you all in another week. Please read, review and enjoy! :)

Chapter 10

Novigrad was a place Lambert generally liked to avoid if he could. It was large, jumbled, and crowded. Usually with people that thought far too highly of themselves and looked at him like he was a shit some drowner had left behind. Unfortunately, it was also one of the largest cities in the Northern kingdoms, and contained most things a witcher would need to continue his journey on the Path. Including, high paying contracts. Nevertheless, he felt his heart sink as the jagged, towering shadow of Novigrad's skyline appeared in the distance. The unusually warm Autumn sunlight creating a heat haze in front of it, making it look like a really shitty mirage.

It had been a full two days since the griffin incident, and a nearly a week since the water hag and mercenaries incident. He found measuring his time with Blue eyes by incidents a lot easier, seeing as she caused a lot of them. She was ahead of him at the moment, staring intently at a bush or something just off the road. Pulling Whoreson to a stop next to her, for he refused to let her stupid name of Horse stick, he looked down at her bronze coloured hair as it was the only thing left sticking out of the bush.

'What'cha doing there Blue eyes?' He asked, leaning casually on his pommel. The girl extracted herself from the dark green leaves and looked up at him. A few of the leaves were stuck in her hair and Lambert had to resist the urge to remove them.

'What is this?' She held out her hand and presented a small white flower with a deep purple stem.

'That's bryonia. A common ingredient in alchemy, strange to see it growing here though.' Blue eyes examined the flower, bringing it close to her nose to sniff at it.

'Smells like dried fruit. What can you make with it?' Normally, an impromptu lesson in alchemy in the middle of a road would be the last thing Lambert would want to do. However, her inquisitive expression and sky-blue eyes made something inside the irritable witcher give in to her questioning.

'I use it to make dragon's dream bombs mostly, but I can also make draconid and hybrid oil with the stems.'

'Dragon's dream? Sounds interesting.' She probed.

'Yeah, they are. Interesting how you can blow up a whole nest of nekkers in one go with them.' He replied off hand, watching as she held the seemingly insignificant flower a little further away from her face.

'All these different plants…do they all have uses in potions and bombs?' That little crease appeared between her eyebrows and suddenly Lambert found it difficult to swallow.

'Most of them. I never really liked alchemy, bombs are the only thing I'm good at making.'

She tilted her head, her lips twitching up at the corners. 'I can believe that.' She said, a cheeky glint in her eyes. Lambert let out a long, laboured sigh.

'As much as I love sharing all my boring witcher secrets on the open road, I'd love an ale and a proper bed even more.' Blue eyes placed the bryonia blossom in the pocket of her trousers and nodded, turning to continue walking. With a glance at the sun the witcher could see with their current pace they wouldn't reach the next settlement before nightfall. Watching the girl start to skip off down the road he kicked his horse on to catch up.

'Hey, Blue eyes. Stop a second.' The girl skidded to a halt instantly, turning to look up at him in confusion.

'I thought you wanted to get going?'

He sighed in exasperation. 'I do, but at this rate we'll be another week before we're anywhere near civilization.' Her expression darkened, along with her eyes. The clouds rolled in on that summer sky blue until they were a deep, ominous navy.

'What'd you want me to do? Sprint next to you?' He felt his jaw clench automatically at the confrontational tone, but arguing now was just going to be counterproductive. Against his better judgement he held out a hand to her, his lip curling slightly at the corner.

'Shut the fuck up and grab hold.' Despite his sharp words the surprise of his offer made her baulk. She stared at the hand as if it were a djinn that had just materialised in front of her. 'Blue eyes, take the fucking hand. I haven't got all day.' He bit out and with a disgruntled twist of her mouth she placed her slim hand in his.

Gripping her tightly, Lambert hauled her up and into the saddle in front of him. She was surprisingly light, considering she had managed to pin him down during their first fight. Her slim body fit easily in front of him, the top of her head brushing against his chin. Shifting slightly in the saddle so he was pressed against her back, and his arms could reach the reins, he was immediately hit with her scent. The stench of farm animal, predominantly ox, and the harsh smell of sulphur swirled around her, but from this close those less than pleasant smells were undercut by something else. Taking a deep breath, he identified the scent of dry earth after a long-awaited storm. It was sweet and slightly metallic, yet oddly comforting.

'Are you…smelling my hair?' Her voice snapped him out of his musings. His face flushed with sudden chagrin, and his hands tightened on the reins.

'Well, it's kinda' hard not to with your head right under my nose.' She didn't turn to look at him, but he felt the slight vibration against his chest as she chuckled quietly.

'Pervert.' She said under her breath, the hint of laughter in her voice.

Kicking Whoreson on a little too forcefully, Lambert spurred him to a speedy canter. The wind rushing past his head and the road being eaten up beneath his mount's hooves felt good after days of tiresome plodding. He tightened his grip on the girl in front of him, making sure she stayed seated amid the exuberant rocking of his horse; although she was sitting it rather well. He was certain at this pace they would reach the towns on the outskirt of the city by nightfall, but the increased pace and new passenger had a downside.

Since the waterfall incident Lambert had been careful to keep his distance from the girl, not wanting a repeat of that strange, fiery tension between them. However, with her now pressed against him, her backside shifting back into his hips with a consistent rhythm, it was hard not to feel the atmosphere change. The heavy, static tension building like a thunderstorm gathering on the horizon.

He focused on the road ahead, keeping his breathing as even as he could. Unable to see the demon girl's face was excruciating, but he could tell from the rigid way she was sitting in the saddle that she was likely feeling the same as him. A memory of her intense blue eyes looking up at him from under her eyelashes, the water from the pool collecting on them like dew drops. His throat constricted dramatically and he felt his usually slow beating heart stutter. Abruptly they were thrown forward as Whoreson's hoof caught on a stone in the road. Instinctually, he wrapped an arm around the girl's waist, holding her to him. At the same time, she reached out and grabbed his thigh, steadying her position.

Instant fire sprang up where his arm pushed against her torso and her hand gripped the muscle of his leg, even through his leather armour. The blood rushed from Lambert's head and his heart picked up pace. With a jerking motion, as if he had been burnt, he removed his arm from around her. Likewise, her hand snapped back to her side and he felt her try and shuffle forward subtlety, putting more space between their bodies. They rode on in oppressive silence, neither acknowledging the still mailable tension surrounding them although it refused to disappear. It was with relief Lambert saw the beginnings of a well-kept town, the fancy stonework and cobble road the first signs of Novigrad's borders. The road became wider, which was good as it also progressively became busier. Lambert having to weave expertly between groups of walking peasants and trundling carts towed by slow oxen. Just on the edge of the border town he found a part of the road where he could stop safely. Pulling his horse to an abrupt halt, he dismounted smoothly.

Escaping the proximity of his passenger, Lambert felt his senses returning to him. He took a moment to slow his heart rate back to its normal, glacial pace and allow the blood to return to his head. His skin still tingled with the unknown energy that had crackled between them for the entire journey but at least he could breathe clean air again.

Blue eyes was slower to dismount, clumsily sliding off Whoreson. A chivalrous man would have offered her help but Lambert didn't trust himself to touch her again, and a chivalrous man he was not. He stood a few steps back, his arms folded across his chest as she let out a long breath. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Sparkling with excitement and he noted how she crossed her own arms, the exposed skin on them covered in goose bumps.

'That was…interesting.' She finally said, her voice breaking. The two of them stood awkwardly on the side of the road, both unwilling to look each other in the eye.

'Ahem…yeah. Let's agree not to do that again.' Lambert replied.

'We did get here quicker though.' She said.

The witcher grunted, feeling the last effects of their strange ride fading. 'Not sure it was worth it.' He cast a glance at the road into town where passers-by were giving them odd looks. A witcher and a strange, half-dressed girl stood in a main thoroughfare, acting like they had been caught having an affair was likely drawing all the wrong attention.

Assessing his surroundings Lambert judged they were on the other side of the Pontar; the buildings a small collection of houses and shops. The smell of fish strong in the air. This was a main route into Novigrad and the traffic flowing past them was only increasing. Traders and merchants pushing carts and carrying their wares gave them curious glances as they trudged past. Fishermen heading to their boats on the Pontar river, women tugging a string of screaming offspring behind them as they hurried past. They cast their eyes over Lambert and with obvious panic, pulled their children away. Witcher, child stealer, that's what he was to them.

A few rough looking men, likely more mercenaries coming to Novigrad from the frontline, stared openly at Blue eyes. Their leering smiles widening as they looked her up and down. A swell of icy anger hit Lambert as he glared back at them. A few noticed and sneered, only adding fuel to the cold fire within him.

'There are a lot of people here Lambert.' Her abnormally timid voice pulled his attention away from the thugs and onto her. She was stood very close to his horse, her arms still crossed but her eyes darted from person to person. There was a nervous tension in her posture that he hadn't seen before, not when she faced an angry mob, a murderous water hag or a gigantic griffin. Faced with a crowd of curiously staring people however and she appeared to be shrinking before his eyes. She really was an oddity.

'It's a city, there are going to be lots of people.' He said, giving her a funny look. 'I thought you came from one?'

'I do. But people tend to ignore me there.' As she said this she took a step back, closer to him. Reflexively Lambert stepped away. The last thing they needed was another episode of weird animalistic tension. 'Do we really need to go through here? I'm getting freaked out by all the people staring at us.'

'I need supplies, and as I'm low on funds I also need some contracts. Sorry, Blue eyes, I'm afraid we'll be here a few days at least.' His tone was off-hand but he actually meant his apology. The demon seemed to be really fearful of the people around her all of a sudden. He rubbed a hand over his face. 'Look. Why don't you stay out here to begin with? I can go and look for work and supplies on my own, I usually do it solo anyway. Don't need you tagging along like a bad smell when I'm trying to charm the locals.'

The grateful look she gave him despite his insult made his insides squeeze and he had to quickly avert his gaze again. Whatever was going on between them he had to put a stop to it. 'You don't mind leaving me on my own again? All I seem to do is get into trouble.'

His hand moved to the back of his neck and he turned away. 'Yeah, I know you do. Just…try and lay low this time. Novigrad is the wrong place to kick up a shit storm, believe me.' He found a quiet lane leading off the main thoroughfare and followed it. It wound its way past some smaller houses, their stonework less fancy, then passing through a small copse of tress they came to an abandoned, crumbling building. The rustic stone walls and fronting of the place alluded to it being some kind of farm house. The un-shuttered windows stared blankly out at them as they approached. It looked like no one had live here for a long time, and judging by the overgrown weeds no one had cared for the place either. It was a miracle no monsters had decided to nest here. Well, now there was one. Instead of grumbling about the less than savoury accommodation, the girl immediately squeezed through the partially blocked doorway.

'This is better. Thank you, Lambert.' He blinked as she said his name and he pushed himself through the gap, with a little more trouble than she had.

'S'okay. Just keep quiet.' He said, regarding her huddled form, hunkered down in one corner. Her knees pulled tight to her chest. What had shaken her so much? Choosing not to press her, everyone had their fears and secrets, but still frowning, he assembled a small pile of kindling and ignited it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her wince slightly as he cast the sign.

'I'll be back at sundown.' He shot at her over his shoulder as he left the shack. Tying his horse to a rotting gate post he mumbled to the beast, 'Keep an eye on her, okay?' Whoreson's ears flicked to his master, and he gave a low snort which Lambert took as an agreement to his command. 'Talking to your horse, you're getting more like Geralt every day you idiot.' He muttered to himself as he adjusted his swords and headed back towards the town.

It took a bit of time, more than he'd like, wandering around the small fishing town to find a notice board. His irritation built as even with the drawn out search his efforts didn't yield much, there were a few requests for cart rental and someone telling a person called Fredrick to stop fishing in his spot, but nothing that resembled a lucrative monster contract. He guessed this close to Novigrad there were more than a few mercenaries or witch hunters to fulfil most needs in that regard, but still…nothing?

With a disgruntled huff he turned to look for a tavern or somewhere to get any kind of stiff drink. His eyes landed on a building that was taller than most of its surrounding counterparts. It was tucked away in a seedy looking alley, but there were a few horses and carts parked outside the place. There was no sign, but Lambert could hear the sound of shouting and clanking tankards even from here. Deciding that he may find work in amongst the patronage, whilst also wetting his parched throat, he made his way towards it. As he came closer two of the animals tied up outside caught his attention. A striking black, Kaedweni stallion which stood a good few hands above the other mounts, and next to it a gentle, looking bay mare who noticed his approach and gave a low whinny of greeting.

'Hey there Roach.' Lambert murmured back, as he patted the mare's neck. 'Your master inside? Better go say hello.' He left the two horses and entered the shady looking establishment, stepping over a passed out drunk in the doorway as he did.

The smell of ale, sweat and fish hit him like a wall, and he grimaced as he scanned the crowded tavern for his brothers. It didn't take him long to single them out, in amongst the fishermen and traders, they stood out like trolls at a tea party. The dark haired one noticed him first, his badly scarred face lifting in recognition. He nudged the more conspicuous white-haired man next to him, who gave Lambert a wry smile as he raised his tankard in welcome.

'Why can't I go five minutes without running into your pale ass? The continent's meant to be vast, but obviously not fucking vast enough.' He jibed, parting the densely packed patrons as he moved towards their table.

'Must be my natural magnetism. Works on witchers as well as women.' Geralt shot back, his smile growing as Lambert rolled his eyes dramatically, sitting opposite the pair.

Eskel let out a low chuckle eyeing their new drinking partner sceptically. 'What brings you here Lambert, thought you hated Novigrad?'

'I do. But needs must and coin is low, yah dah yah dah, you know the deal.' He waved at a passing barmaid, she gave the occupants of their table a fearful look as she hovered uncertainly near them. Lambert noticed bitterly that her eyes lingered on Geralt longer than him or Eskel, her ruddy cheeks colouring markedly.

'What can I get ya?' She asked, her voice nervous.

'An ale please.' He bit out, his annoyance seeping into his tone more than he would have liked. The maid gave a hurried nod and scurried away, clearly flustered.

Geralt snorted into his own drink. 'Coin is low, but not low enough to stop drinking.'

'I've had a hard few days alright White wolf.'Lambert spat, 'Challenging even for your legendary prowess I imagine.' At this Geralt's eyebrows lifted, and he gave Eskel an amused look.

'Oh, yes? Do tell. You know I love stories.' Lambert's eyes narrowed.

'As much as I'd enjoy showing you up for once, I've got other business to attend to.'

Now Eskel leant forward, his expression mocking. 'Don't hold out on us brother, you're not the mysterious type.'

Sitting back, Lambert folded his arms across his chest. These two were the closest thing to family he had, but gods damn it they were annoying when they were together…and drinking. As if on cue, his own ale was delivered by the nervy barmaid. She placed it in front of him, giving an odd half bow, half curtsy and disappeared again with a quick backward glance at Geralt.

'Natural magnetism.' Lambert muttered into his tankard as he raised it to his lips. Both Geralt and Eskel let out barks of laughter, the latter hitting his shoulder playfully. The motion jogged his hand, and he sloshed a third of his ale onto the table in the process.

'Look what you fucking whoresons made me do!' He yelled, slamming the now lighter tankard down. His outburst only provoked his brothers to laugh louder, Eskel slapping Geralt's back. He glowered at the pair of them, until eventually they calmed down, Eskel wiping a tear from his eye.

'I'll give you this Lambert, you do give us a good laugh.'

'Glad I can be of service.' He said, his voice thick with sarcasm. Geralt eyed him thoughtfully, his face settling back into its usual stoic expression.

'You headed to Kaer Morhen after here? The pass will be closing within the month.' Lambert nodded, keeping his face strategically blank. He trusted his brother wolves but revealing his uninvited guest right now wouldn't be the best tactic. Best to break it to them gently.

'Me and Geralt were going to go together. You fancy tagging along?' Eskel said. 'That is…if you don't think we'll cramp your style.' He held up his hands, his mouth twitching up at the corners. Without the brutal, violent looking scars across his face Lambert was certain Eskel would have been considered handsome, but the unfortunate events that had led to their creation deformed his lips, making his smile look more like a grimace.

'Nah, you couldn't cramp it even if you wanted to. But I think I'll go alone if you don't mind. Got some errands to run here first.'

'If it's contracts you're looking for, you're shit out of luck.' Eskel said, taking a swig of ale.

'I saw the board outside. Nothing but hand me downs and pissing contests.' Lambert said, his heart sinking. If he had hoped to find work in here, the presence of two witchers also without contracts didn't bode well.

'We asked around and apparently the last one was taken a few days ago.' Geralt stated. He nodded towards a surly bartender, casting warning glares around the crowded tavern. 'The innkeeper said there was a contract on some kind of demon in the form of a girl. Attacked some mercenaries outside Ursten near a week ago. Didn't kill 'em but beat them up pretty bad. They put a price on its head, claiming it had superhuman strength and speed. My thinking is, some thugs got taken out by a girl and didn't want to admit it.' He grinned at Lambert, 'Shame someone already took it, reckon you might have had a shot with a woman like that.'

Eskel laughed at the White wolf's joke but Lambert's blood had turned cold. It was Blue eyes. The contract had been for her, no question.

'Someone took it you said. Was it a band of witch hunters or just some fool hardy peasants?' Geralt gave him an odd look. The arrogant smirk that most believed was permanently fixed to Lambert's face had disappeared, and there was no mistaking the serious edge to his words.

'Neither. It was another witcher.'

His stomach dropped. Shit, witch hunters and mercenaries were one thing, but a witcher. He needed to get Blue eyes out of here and fast. Downing the rest of his ale Lambert stood up abruptly. Geralt and Eskel cast a look at each other before following their brother's suit.

'I know you're eager for money, but stepping on another witcher's contract-' Eskel began diplomatically.

'I'm not trying to snag the contract Eskel. I just…have things to do.' One setback of having brother's in arms was their ability to pick up when he was hiding something. As he turned to go, Geralt's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Lambert froze.

'Let go of me.' He growled. Feeling his panic for Blue eyes stoke his imminent explosion.

'What's going on Lambert?' Geralt's tone was harsh and left no room for argument. He gave the younger witcher a warning look as Lambert glared over his shoulder at him.

'I need to go. Something just came up.' Eskel stepped around the table so he was stood next to him. A few of the nearby patrons had paused in their drinking and were watching the trio of witchers cautiously.

'Something involving this demon? You seem really fucking eager to leave since we told you about it.' Lambert stared them both down for a moment but he knew them well enough to see they weren't about to back down.

'Fine. Come outside though. Don't want to talk about it in here.' He kept his voice low as he spoke, ensuring only their sensitive ears could hear him over the racket of the tavern. Geralt and Eskel shared a brief look, then nodded. The three of them exited, the crowd parting easily at the sight of a group of witchers approaching them. Coming out onto the small side street, Lambert cast a furtive look around. His senses jumping with pent up energy. He was eager to be done with this so he could head back to Blue eyes and ensure she was still safe.

'Talk.' Geralt said as soon as they saw they were alone. Lambert narrowed his eyes at him.

'I'm not a Redanian guard you're questioning Geralt. Back the fuck off.' The pair of them folded their arms, Lambert's mood appearing spikier than usual. He let out a sound of frustration and rubbed his face with his hand. 'I know the girl in the contract, okay. I'm travelling with her.'

The look of shock on both their faces should have made him laugh. It was a rare occurrence that these seasoned monster hunters were caught off guard, but in his state of heightened agitation he barely smirked at their response.

'A demon girl? Clearly we underestimated your own natural magnetism Lambert.' Eskel said, glancing around. 'But…where is she?'

Lambert sneered at him, his patience running dangerously low. 'Obviously not here, you fucking…pillock.' He didn't know where the foreign swear word had come from, it had just popped out. Eskel held up his hands, confusion etched on his scarred face.

'Okay, I'm sorry. So, who is she?'

'Firstly, none of your business, and secondly, every second I'm here explaining this shit to you, another witcher is hunting her down. So, if you don't mind, I need to go.'

'Fine.' Geralt said, his expression hard. 'Where is she?'

Lambert gave him a sideways look. 'You're not coming with me.'

The White wolf snorted, already turning to untie Roach. 'Hate to break this to you, but we are coming with you. And you can tell us the story on the way.'

The younger witcher ground his teeth together as his brother began to walk away. Eskel gave him a shrug and gathered up Scorpion's reins. 'Better get going if you're in a hurry.'

Lambert watched them walk away, then letting out a growl of frustration ran to catch up so he could lead them to their hiding place. He just hoped this other witcher didn't have too much of a head start on them.