Warrior's Dawn (Fire and Tears) (4 page)

Althir remained silent at her back as they moved through the cobbled streets. His ability to move so quietly was both a relief and a little unnerving. She found herself glancing back at him every so often just to make sure he was still there. And every time she did, he gave her one of his little knowing smiles, the ones that left her feeling like he could read her thoughts.

Fortunately for them both, he couldn’t. Because her thoughts kept fluctuating between a need to hurt him for the way his kind had hurt her family and a fascination with him she didn’t want to feel. He was infuriating, arrogant and amoral. Yet… She kept catching glimpses of more, hints that he wasn’t what he let the world see.

Ridiculous thoughts. He was exactly what he seemed. And she would do well to remember that. She didn’t trust him, no one did, which was why she was here—to make sure he did what he promised to do. That goal had to stay firmly in her mind because forgetting what he really was could get her killed.

Or worse.

As they neared the little shop, she heard the approach of a minion patrol. Without speaking, she motioned Althir into a dark alley, moving them into a large cargo doorway to hide. The patrol marched past without pause. Seeing them made her throat ache. Though she knew better, she still found herself searching for one face amongst them.

He’s dead
, she scolded herself.
You watched him die.
He was better off dead too. Better than being one of those wretches turned into something no longer human, something that carried the stench of rotting meat and obeyed the Sorcerers without question.

When she was sure the patrol had passed, she continued on, checking only once to make sure Althir followed.

The sky was just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn as they slipped through the kitchen door at the back of the small chocolatier shop. With a gesture, she ordered Althir to remain in the kitchen while she searched the building, verifying that it was still safe and hadn’t been used by anyone besides herself recently. The little clues she’d left in place, things that would give away the presence of others, were all still as they should be.

She returned to Althir and murmured, “We’ll be fine here until sunset. There are two bedrooms upstairs, both with moderately clean beds. Feel free to use one. Sleep while you can. Time to rest will be rare over the next few days.”

“And you? You’ll sleep?”

“I’ll see to myself,” she snapped. Shaking her head, she reined in her temper. Her first view of minions in enemy territory always left her raw. But she didn’t want Althir to know or question her about it.

She gestured at a cabinet above an expansive counter. “There’s some food stores—dry meats and some dried fruit.” She didn’t go into enemy territory with much besides the clothes on her back and her short swords, sometimes not even those. The less she had to carry, the faster she could move, and the easier it was to adopt a disguise when she needed one. She left food and other gear scattered around her safe spots. Or she liberated what she required from the Sorcerers.

“Fresh water still comes out of the pumps from the well out back,” she continued. The Sorcerers hadn’t poisoned any of the water in their own territory, though they’d poisoned or bespelled most of the wells throughout Noman’s Land. Once on this side of the border, finding water was never a problem.

Althir nodded, but he didn’t look away from her.

“We’ll leave as soon as the sun sets. We have a ways to go to reach the next hiding spot and the patrols will be heavier in those areas.”

“Do we need to keep watch?”

She shrugged. “I’ll take care of that.”

She didn’t trust him to guard her back while she slept. She would do as she always did—maintain a light snooze while a part of her remained alert to the noises of their surroundings. One of the advantages of having used this location a number of times was that she knew what was normal and what wasn’t.

When he still didn’t move, she sighed. “Do as you like. But I warn you, you’ll regret missing a chance at some sleep.”

“I’ve gone for days without sleep before,” he assured her. “And I’ve had too much ‘rest’ of late in that cage.”

“Your choice.” She pulled a small packet of dried fruit from the cabinet. “Don’t go into the front of the shop. The windows are dirty but not covered enough to prevent a passing patrol from spotting you.” Then she climbed the stairs to the room she always used, the one with the best views of the surrounding streets, and settled in for a day’s vigil.

When Althir joined her, she wanted to groan in irritation. She needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. Could he not listen to wisdom and go sleep?

“You’re tense,” he commented.

She couldn’t read anything in his voice, couldn’t decipher his tone, but since he hadn’t ask a question, she didn’t bother to respond. She had no interest in conversation with him outside of what needed to be done.

Or so she kept telling herself.

No, no she really didn’t want to talk with him right now. Not when thoughts of her brother were so close to the surface.

“The minions scared you?”

She snorted and shook her head.

“Then it’s something else…”

“Althir. Go sleep. Or twiddle your thumbs. Or eat. Or do nothing at all. I don’t really care. Just go away.”

“Something about the minions…” he murmured, drawing the sentence out, ignoring her pleas.

“We’re in enemy territory now. I have every reason to be tense.”

“There’s a difference since the patrol passed.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know me well enough to judge my mood shifts. Go away.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll sneak out and alert the patrols to your presence?”

“No.”

“Why?”

She finally turned from the window to look at him. “Because they’ll do much more damage to you, after betraying them, than they could ever do to me.”

“I could buy their forgiveness with you.”

“I’m not that valuable. And you are many things distasteful to me, Althir of Glengowyn, but you’re no idiot.”

“If I weren’t an idiot, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

She wasn’t sure which mess he referred to—joining the Sorcerers to begin with, having to turn himself over the Sinnale to save his miserable life, or this current mission to regain his freedom. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask when she remembered she didn’t care and had no interest in talking with him. She turned back to the window.

The sound of the bedsprings creaking made her want to screech,
“Go away!”
But she didn’t say anything aloud. Engaging him would just draw things out. Showing him her anger and annoyance would reveal more than she wanted a traitor elf to know.

“What other distasteful things am I?” he asked, amusement clear in his tone.

She nibbled on her fruit, ignoring him. At one time, her family had been large and boisterous. She’d learned well the power of silence.

Or so she thought.

“Can’t think of any? I suspected as much. I’m too charming and handsome to be distasteful.”

That surprised a snort of laughter from her. She cut it off as quickly as she could but knew he’d heard the response and cursed herself. Damn him and his charm to the sacred hells. She preferred the crass, bitter elf she’d met the day before. She couldn’t find that elf amusing, even if she did find him beautiful to look at.

“I’ve visited this chocolatier before,” he commented. “Before the invasion. Damned fine sweets they made. Maybe the best truffles in the city.”

She shrugged, though it took an effort not to refute his claim. Family pride died hard, even after years of war.

“Another topic then. You never answered my question about how you managed to maintain anything like a figure over the last two years.”

She felt her cheeks warming but kept her gaze on the streets below. Discussing her figure wasn’t exactly an improvement in topics.

“Oh I’m sure some of it’s down to family, right? Your mother probably had great tits too.”

She tried not to react or stiffen, but knew she’d failed when she heard his slight hum, as if he realized he’d uncovered something.

“And sisters? Cousins, maybe? Were they as…fully curved as you?”

She continued to munch on her fruit as she tried to ignore him. In the otherwise quiet room, though, the deep cadence of his voice dug its way into her consciousness, leaving her too aware of him.

“I bet they were. With tits and asses to make a man’s mouth water.”

“Are you attempting to use that vaunted charm on me again?” she asked before she could stop herself. “If so, do you realize you’re failing miserably?”

Her retort earned her a soft, sexy chuckle. “So, she speaks. Will you answer my question?”

“After all that rot you’ve just rambled on about, I have no idea what you asked.”

“How have you managed to keep from getting too skinny during the occupation?”

She blew out an irritated breath and raised her hands palms-up in surrender. “Fine. If you must know, I was fat before the war.”

When he didn’t respond, she looked at him over her shoulder. His brows were raised and he was staring at her as if surprised by her outburst. The expression made her want to laugh.

“Gloriously fat,” she continued. “So beautifully full and fat I was coveted by many a man in my family’s industry.” She realized too late she’d said too much. Biting her lip, she faced the window again. “Now go away.”

“I’ve never heard a woman announce being fat with such pride,” he said, continuing to ignore her pleas for him to leave. “I like it. I approve.”

“I don’t care.”

He snorted. “No, of course you don’t.”

The bed creaked, and she held her breath, hoping he was finally going. But after a moment, she realized he’d just shifted positions and was still staring at the back of her head.

“So what was your family’s industry that made being fat so valuable?”

Damn, damn, damn
. She knew he wouldn’t miss her slip. How had he managed to get so much from her, despite her efforts? His “charm” must really have magic to it. Though calling this conversation charming was a stretch. Yet that had to be the reason she found herself revealing details she’d never intended to share with a man she considered little better than an enemy.

“Don’t try to ignore the question,” he said. “I’ll just keep nagging until you tell me. Or I’ll guess until I hit on the right answer. Do you really want to go through all that just to keep such an inconsequential secret?”

“Your efforts, not mine,” she grunted, slipping a little lower in her seat.

“Fine.”

He hummed under his breath and she heard him tapping his gloved fingers against something.

“Pig farmers? No? Something to do with food, though? Cheese makers? Bread?”

She kept herself perfectly still so as not to react to his last guess.

“Or was it simply to do with wealth? Your lush plumpness a sign that your family could afford all the good food they wanted? Bankers, maybe. Loan agents?”

She let his litany roll past her, focusing on the streets. Everything was quiet for the moment. Under other circumstances, that would have pleased her. But at the moment, she wanted something to distract Althir from his attempts at uncovering more about her and her family, so a handy passing minion patrol wouldn’t have upset her terribly. At least that would force the damned elf to shut up.

“I know,” he said with a snap. “And that explains a lot.”

She raised her brows though she was still looking out the window and he couldn’t see her.

“Your family owned this shop, didn’t they? That’s why you chose this location.”

“No,” she stated bluntly because it was the honest truth.

“But you’re familiar with this shop. You know the area well.”

He paused and she resigned herself to the fact that he’d stumbled onto the truth.

“Your family was in the chocolate business,” he stated, his tone deep with satisfaction. “And being too thin would signal to potential customers that the chocolates created couldn’t be all that great.”

She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Though she didn’t confirm his guess, she didn’t deny it either. The bastard had figured it out, but she didn’t have to be gracious about it.

“I’ve got it, haven’t I?” he said, sounding inordinately smug. “Now it’s a matter of pinpointing exactly which chocolatier.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed, sounding confused.

“Why do you care? Why try to figure this out?”

The silence stretched. Mina hoped he’d stop speaking altogether but knew her luck wasn’t that good. As the minutes ticked by, though, she started to wonder if he’d actually left without her realizing. She turned. He was still on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his long, well-muscled legs stretched out on the mattress.

His arms were propped behind his head as he studied her. In the morning light, his eyes glittered and the angled planes of his face stood out in sharp beauty. How could such a rotten personality live inside such a stunning body, she wondered yet again.