“Jax?” She turned beseeching blue eyes on him.
No. Don’t do that!
“I’ve told you hundreds of times.” She whispered.
Her simple words sent his frustration streaking upward.
“Talk. Talking. You want me to talk. About everything. To explain.” He quoted the many paraphrases she’d used. “I don’t know how!”
“You choose not to.”
We’re back to this! His teeth were grinding. And he wanted to strike something. Fight something.
Dimurah stalked rapidly to him while he watched.
His body wound with the type of fury that sent men backing up. Making them certain not to touch him, and most certainly not to do what Murah was intent on doing.
What the devil is she about now?
Reaching him she stretched her arm and soundly slapped him. Hard. Making his head snap to the side and blue eyes widen. Flashing brightly.
His vision flared blood red and he reflexively imagined a hundred way
“Could I?” She asked softly. I grunted. Probably not. If I had a home, someone would light it afire. Probably with her in it. He swallowed. “You’re right.” He turned and strode from the tent. Prepared to announce the Trader’s Market opening for the day. But slim arms wound his waist and jerked him backward. Despite himself he laughed. Stumbling as she guided him back inside. “Sneaking up on me is hazardous.” “Not for me.” She laughed against the back of his shoulder. “You’re very confident.” “I don’t want to fight with you today, Jax.” She murmured against his back as they came to a stop. Tucking her face deep into his padded tunic. “I don’t want you to fight with me either.” “Thank you for saving me last night.” “You’re welcome. Murah.” “It seems you’re always around when I need you.” He nodded slowly. What do I say to that? Imp
He was crossing the courtyard toward the small lake holding Winter’s Haven. The tiny lake I built the fortress around. He reached the floating alehouse and saw a shadow rounding from the back deck framing it. He noticed the shapely curves but dismissed the idea it was Murah as quickly as he saw the shape. Not her. Who? She stepped under the torches framing the sign swaying above the alehouse. Bell. Bellie? Billy? What’s her bloody name? He’d paid no attention when she’d introduced herself. Or any time after that. Only indulging her until Murah came into view. And she serves me when Murah refuses. What’s she doing out here? He tilted his head, curious. “I’ve been waiting for you…” She said in a breathy voice. Oh, that’s why. Not a chance. She reached a pale hand to caress his chest. He dodged it. Rearing back. “What a
Savage alerted before daylight at the sound of a woman’s step entering his tent. Strange. This is usually when Murah is leaving not arriving. He was still. Waiting. The form lay behind him. Sliding closer. A slim hand wrapped around his side to flatten against his stomach. Not her touch. He instantly rolled to his opposite side. Catching the spike aimed for his lower back. Wrenching it from her fist as he moved. She tried to hold it. Following his momentum to land nearly atop him. He reflexively sunk the spike into her forehead. Slowing enough to stop it after piercing the skin. Before it split bone. He dragged it down between her brows and lightened the pressure as he tugged it down the side of her nose and to her jaw. Disloyal Wench. He caught the light of her blonde curls in the blackness. Though he’d already suspected it was she. She squealed in pain. I left Phalanx in Winter’s Haven. He
I didn’t intend that. He released it from his fingers. Too late. “You’re snatching my hair?” “No.” “Yes, you did.” I did. “But I didn’t intend to.” “You do many things you don’t intend to do, don’t you?” Damn every redhead born! He wanted to kiss her feisty mouth to silence. But she’ll fight like a hellcat. And neither of us will get a moment’s enjoyment from that…Well, I might. If I’m honest with myself… “Dimurah.” He warned. She rattled on, slinging accusations. Like a tree gnome thinking it’s ten-foot tall, hurling insults like rocks. He stared at the ceiling of his tent. Silently counting to calm his absent patience. “Are you quite finished!” He roared. “Nowhere near!” She shouted fearlessly. “It’s funny,” He shouted to get her attention as he leaned into her face as he often did. “That yo
Chavias looked up the road where Savage leaned against the bakery wall, near the storehouse. Tapping his forehead. “How’d you know I’d be here tonight?” “I didn’t. Stumbled across your tracks.” “Hmm.” How’d you know it was me? Chavias was somewhat doubtful. “Recognized the Targue following your boots.” “Ah.” Chavias nodded. Logical. “Can I ask you a question?” That’d be unusual for you. Chavias noted. “Best be quick. They’re not far behind.” “Oh, I left a woman for them to chase.” Savage dismissed. “You’re feeding them a live woman?” Chavias was horrified. Feeling a tinge of disappointment that the glimpses of humanity he’d seen in the younger man had been an illusion. “No.” Savage straightened. To sway a boot through the dirt. “I smeared her with their droppings and told her to hide once she got deep in the trees. They won’t find her.” As if on cue ther
“Yes!” Danbury declared. “I want vengeance!” “What would you have me do?” “He plans to raid me again. An assassin I keep on my coin has told me of his intent.” Radix’s wooden chair creaked. His interest is piqued. “How did he find out? The Boy is hard to track.” “He was boasting in the Rum Runnel.” Boasting. Savage would never boast of a plan. This is a setup designed for Radix’s minions. “Hmm. And your assassin is sure it was him?” “He knows him. They’re comrades. Well done Danbury!” There was silence where Chavias assumed Danbury beamed with pride. Then Danbury’s step as he was exiting Radix’s chamber. Chavias planted his feet and waited. Danbury turned in the dark and couldn’t see him. Slamming into Chavias and the sullied bucket before him. Smearing Danbury’s fine clothes. Danbury squawked and lunged backward. “What have you done. You fool!”
Peak Mountain, Black Mountains, Battling Border CHAVIAS Since Chavias had heard Radix leaving in Danbury’s coach he had been fingering the iron key tucked under his cot and wrapped in Calisto’s cloak. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps she doesn’t deserve to die, as I’d thought. Have I gotten so dark that I seek vengeance where it’s not needed? But then he remembered overhearing Radix telling Deiti, the redheaded temptress who tormented him, to stay close to the caves because soon he’d be sending her after a Winter Dread. Sabine. The precious creature Chavias was protecting. Breathtaking Sabine who dances in snowflakes and invites danger into her bed. A wondrously gorgeous creature who seemed innocent of all evil in the world. Deiti wanted to hunt her down and steal her powers until the innocent girl was seared from the inside out.
“Eternally.” Dimurah hissed up at him in answer to his question. His gaze roved her agitated face. “I dearly hope not.” Unable to resist he dropped a quick kiss to her cheek. She twisted her head away and stalked back behind the bar. Still angry with me. Annoyance made his jaw twitch as he watched her. “That’s the way it is to be then?” She tossed him a quick look. Jerking her head to one side in assent. “Fine. I have other things to attend to anyway.” He stomped across Winter’s Haven, to stand perilously close to where ColdKill leaned against the pillar laughing as he jested with one of the benched tables. Savage was unmoving until the entire table quieted, and all eyes lighting on him. At length, ColdKill slowly turned. Tankard in hand. “Ah, you’re still alive! I heard you were ambushed.” “You heard wrong. An ambush implies you didn’t know it was coming.” Which I did.