Chapter 4
Elva
Horses secured in the inn’s stable, Sindri, Leifur, and I slipped into the Pirate’s Booty through the back door.
Despite the sun still being out, the tavern was packed.
Serving wenches darted between tables, their trays loaded with steaming meat pies and frothy mugs of ale.
Most of them were barely dressed—skirts so short that they flashed their backsides when they leaned over, and their tops barely contained their breasts.
“Classy,” Leifur muttered under his breath.
“We can’t spend all our money on the first day,” I said.
“This will do fine for tonight.” I was already scoping out the men clustered at the bar.
None of them caught my interest—or the siren’s.
Frustrated, I switched tactics and took a deep breath through my nose, letting my siren senses flare to life.
The air was thick with sweat, ale, and the faint tang of manure from the stable, but then, there it was: a scent like leather and musk that made something in me perk up. Interesting.
“Grab any seats you can, loves!” a redheaded server called out to us over the bar.
“I’ll grab the drinks,” I said to Sindri and Leifur. “You two find us a spot.”
I slipped around the tables full of men, who were laughing and shouting boisterously, trying to discover where that smell had come from. But as I moved, the smell faded under the stench of sweat and ale. My siren stirred restlessly, annoyed by the lack of progress.
By the time I reached the bar and ordered our drinks, the place had grown even more crowded.
As I waited, I spotted Sindri and Leifur in a booth at the back corner and set off across the room.
I had to squeeze between chairs, and more than once, roaming hands found their way onto my body.
The first time it happened, I bit my tongue, but the second time, I felt a rage bubbling inside me, and I had to remind my siren we couldn't afford to cause a scene.
Instead, I used my other skills—the ones my instructors had tried to break me of.
When they touched me, I touched back. They were too drunk to feel it, and it was too loud to hear the coins jingling.
By the time I arrived at our table, I had five satchels to drop in front of Leifur, and he pocketed them before anyone could see.
While waiting for our meat pies, we took turns sizing up the room.
The patrons were mostly farmers and day laborers, dressed in threadbare tunics and boots caked with dirt.
A few wore the Tyndorf crest—a snake coiled around a sword being held aloft by a dragon.
They were likely guards who lived on the outskirts of the town.
Some had women beside them or on their arm, likely their wives, which narrowed the pool for me.
Sindri elbowed me. “Smell anyone you like yet?”
I shot him a dirty look.
“Don’t be mad, we know what stage you’re at. It’s our job.” Sindri grabbed his mug and took a long swig.
“That glare means no,” Leifur said. He clicked his tongue while he glanced around the room and stopped short. “What about that one? The blond in the guard uniform. I would wager an ale he catches your eye.”
“Not this month,” Sindri said before I could open my mouth. “He’s too young to know what to do with her. Maybe another time, when she’s not this far into the cycle and the siren has more patience.”
Leifur snorted. “The scruffy-haired one? Really?”
“Big muscles, older,” Sindri said with a shrug. “More likely to know how to handle her. I’ll take your ale and raise you a meat pie.”
“Would you two stop betting on my sex life?” I demanded.
Leifur and Sindri turned to me, both of them smirking like fools. “No.” They replied in unison before Sindri added, “We’ve been married for two years now. We need something to entertain ourselves.”
I groaned and tried to take a large gulp of my drink, only to find the mug empty. “Time for another round. I’ll grab it.” I stood and slipped past my brother’s chair, snagging one of the coin purses Leifur had tucked into his bag.
“You’re just using that as an excuse to get away from us, aren’t you?” Leifur asked.
“Precisely.”
I took in the men before me and planned my route carefully to avoid the worst offenders from earlier, and to get me nearer to any men I hadn’t passed on the first trip. As I neared the bar, the scent grew stronger, teasing my siren and making her stir restlessly beneath my skin.
When I reached the bar, I waited for our drinks.
Now that it was dark outside, the place had filled up more, and I knew if I went back to the table, our drinks would take forever while they handled the orders from everyone crowding the bar.
Mugs in hand, I was about to return to my brothers when a man collided with me.
Ale sloshed and soaked my shirt and splashed up to my chin.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” The overly apologetic man grabbed a rag from the barkeep and tried to dry my chest, but I grabbed his wrist and gave him a look that could freeze blood. “I’m more than capable of drying myself.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but then he went pale as his eyes darted past me. A low, gravelly voice spoke up behind me, sending tingles down my spine. “The lady clearly doesn’t need your help, Sven, so keep your hands off.”
“Apologies, sir. And you too, lady.” Sven handed the barkeep a gold coin and hurried back to the seat on the opposite side of the room.
“No need to thank me,” the man said.
I turned to face the stranger, and the scent of worn leather hit me like a punch to the gut.
He stood at least a head taller than me, dressed in black guard slacks and a snug red tunic that showed off arms that would make even Leifur look thin.
His hair was a mix of black and gray, but his face was youthful, framed by sharp cheekbones.
But it was the smile that got under my skin.
It was the kind of smile that said he knew exactly how good he looked and wasn’t afraid to use it.
Combined with that heady leather scent, it was nearly too much.
My siren surged forward, demanding I take him, claim him, right here in the middle of this crowded tavern.
“Why would I thank you?” I asked, gazing at the coarse stubble on his face. “I didn’t need your help, and am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I’m sure there is something I could help you take care of.”
I couldn’t stop my snort and laughed at him. “Does that actually work on the women here?”
His smirk faltered for a moment before he recovered. His eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure me out. I leaned over the bar to grab my new ales, pressing my breasts together just enough to make sure he noticed. When I glanced back, he was staring at them, and I knew I had him.
Ales in hand, I caught his eye and shrugged. “You’ll need to try harder if you want to help me take care of myself tonight.”
The smirk returned, wider this time, and he took a step closer. “Tell me what you need. I’ll do it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I smiled and started toward our table.
“I would offer to fight your brother, but I don’t think you want him harmed.”
His words stopped me cold. I scanned him for any sort of weapon, but he was unarmed. If necessary, I could toss my ale on him and get my dagger from my hip before he could make it to me. “What makes you think he’s my brother?”
He shrugged and stepped closer. “If he weren’t, I would hope he’d be the one fetching the drinks.”
My mind was racing. How does he know? I could feel my siren rising, edging into my voice as I spoke. “Maybe he's just an asshole.”
The stranger's voice dropped lower, sending more tingles down my spine. “No. You wouldn’t tolerate that.”
“You have no idea what I would tolerate.”
“Oh, but I’d like to find out.”
He was leaning in so close I could feel the heat of him against me.
And that scent was all I could think about.
My mind went blank as something in me shifted.
Go away, siren. But it was no use. She'd fixated on him. She wanted him, and if I didn’t give in, then my siren would take matters into her own hands, which almost always ended bloody.
He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. His eyes locked onto mine, and there was no mistaking the intent behind them. “When you’re done delivering your brother’s drink, I have a room upstairs. I’d love to continue our conversation there, in private.”
I glanced over at Sindri and Leifur. They were making rude gestures at me and pointing at the stranger. I scowled, plunked their ales back onto the bar, and grabbed his hand.
“Let’s go,” I said, pulling him toward the stairs before I could change my mind—or before the siren could take control completely.
He took the lead, and I followed him up the creaky stairs to the third floor.
The wooden beams groaned under our feet, echoing through the quiet hallway.
The walls were bare, except for knots in the boards.
At the end of the hall, we reached a door marked with a metal number one.
The man took a key out of his pocket and unlocked it, holding the door open for me.
As I stepped inside, I was taken aback by the elegance of the room.
The rest of the inn was sparsely decorated, but this room was exquisite.
Besides a desk and a wardrobe, there was a cupboard with an ornate ceramic pitcher of water and several mugs.
The bed was a work of art. Each of the four-post beds was intricately carved with ivy leaves that appeared to grow up and around the bed.
I walked over and touched the blanket. It was softer than any material I’d ever felt.
“Do you get such nice accommodations for all your conquests?”
“These are my quarters. If I entertain a lady, this is where I bring her.”
There was a slight thump behind me. He'd taken a large coin purse out of his pocket and dropped it beside the water. A gold dagger followed.