37. Clash of Stone and Steel
Clash of Stone and Steel
Talyn
They had breakfast after they bathed, and then they were on their way again. Samhail was even more laconic than normal as they rode, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, but she caught him glancing at her every now and then.
If she’d known sucking his cock would throw him this off-balance, she’d have done it a lot sooner. Three hells, he’d even let her buy a set of daggers to wear at her hips when they replenished their supplies before they left town.
Talyn still wasn’t sure why she’d done what she had. She’d promised herself she’d keep Samhail at arm’s length, especially after he’d bragged about being able to seduce her, but then she’d seen the evidence of his desire under the sheets, and he’d started to tell her she shouldn’t do it…
That’s what had made her do it. The challenge. When he’d tried to put her off, she’d suddenly wanted to see him fall apart under her touch. She’d wanted him at her utter mercy, and damned if he hadn’t surrendered. Feeling him unravel under her lips had been a heady, powerful feeling.
Now he knew which one of them was really in control.
Or so she hoped. He’d never know how close she came to letting him put his head between her legs, how much willpower it had taken to refuse his offer to make her scream with pleasure, but she was proud of herself for refusing.
Had he dared to put a finger between her thighs, he would’ve seen just how soaking wet she was.
She’d need to insist on a room of her own tonight so she could give herself a release.
They rode most of the day with only a few stops for the sake of the horses. They passed one small town after lunch, but Samhail insisted there was a larger town further on they could make before nightfall if they hurried, so they hadn’t stopped.
They were tired and hungry when they reached the town around dusk that evening and headed first to find an inn. Unfortunately, Samhail had nixed any chance of her getting her own room, and she’d been too tired by then to argue with him.
Now they sat in the dining area of the inn eating what had blessedly turned out to be a delicious stew of goat meat flavored with rosemary and ale and loaded with potatoes, carrots, and a few other vegetables Talyn couldn’t name.
They’d spoken very little that day, and definitely not about this morning, but Talyn wondered what would happen later tonight when they were both in bed together again.
“Can I get you anything else, love?” the barmaid asked as she took their empty bowls.
The woman’s gaze lingered on Samhail, and Talyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Yes, Samhail was attractive to a degree that bordered on sacrilege, but did every woman they encountered in these towns have to let him know? It was a wonder his ego fit in the same room as him.
Even worse, the women they met didn’t seem at all concerned Talyn was there as well.
She never gave any hint that she and Samhail might be together, but it still seemed bold of these women to flirt with him the way they did with her sitting right there.
The barmaid in that last town where they’d healed him had gone so far as to plop down into Samhail’s lap at breakfast and whisper in his ear.
Talyn had kept her eyes on the hand Samhail rested on the woman’s hip the whole time, only glancing away when he moved the woman gently off his lap looking disappointed.
Not that she was jealous. It just annoyed her the way women threw themselves at him.
“I’ll have an ale,” Samhail told the woman. He looked at Talyn.
“Nothing else for me,” she said, but it was moot considering the barmaid had already turned to head toward the counter.
“I’ll wait in the room if you need some time with her,” Talyn offered.
She managed to keep most of the irritation out of her voice, but she took a sip of her water to wash the rest of it down.
Samhail raised a brow. “You think I want her?”
“I don’t care if you do,” Talyn said. “I just don’t want you to think you have to watch me every moment. If you need to go take care of gargoyle things,” she waved a hand in the air, “then feel free.”
Samhail’s brow remained raised. “Gargoyle things?”
“Weren’t you the one who told me gargoyles have a healthy libido?”
“Ah. Those gargoyle things.”
“Yes, those.”
Samhail shrugged. “Do you think I just jump into bed with every woman who wants me? I still need to find them attractive.”
Talyn ignored the ego in that statement and looked at the barmaid.
She seemed pretty enough. Her long dark hair was straight and fell to her waist, which was pinched in tightly with a corset that also pushed her ample breasts up so they nearly spilled over the top.
Her face had a doll-like quality to it, and her caramel-colored skin looked soft enough that even Talyn was tempted to touch it.
“And you don’t find her attractive?” Talyn asked dubiously. “Gods, even I’d fuck her if I had a dick.”
Something thumped against the table, and Samhail’s wince told Talyn he’d likely knocked his knee into the underside.
He let out a deep breath. “Under other circumstances I might.”
Talyn frowned. “What other circumstances?”
He grinned. “Let’s just say recent events have reset my standards.”
Talyn did roll her eyes this time.
The barmaid returned with Samhail’s ale and set it down before him.
“Will you be in town a while?” she asked him, still ignoring Talyn. “You have to at least stay for the Verdaiya festival tomorrow.”
“Verdaiya?” he asked.
“It’s a local term,” the barmaid said with a giggle that made Talyn want to stab her. “It’s just our term for the first day of Spring.”
The glass of water Talyn had been sipping from hit the table with a clunk loud enough that both Samhail and the barmaid looked at her.
“Tomorrow is the first day of Spring?” Talyn asked. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry.
The barmaid nodded. “Yes. Why?”
Talyn shook her head and picked her glass up to take a drink. Samhail and the barmaid were still looking at her.
“On second thought,” Talyn said, setting the water down, “give me a glass of fyrebyne.”
Samhail cocked his head at her in question, but the barmaid turned and headed toward the bar again looking annoyed.
“Fyrebyne is strong,” Samhail observed. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have an ale?”
She glared at him. “I’m going to need something strong if I have to sit here all evening and watch her try to get into your pants.”
He smiled. “Jealous?”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “I told you, I could care less who you stick your cock in, as long as it’s not me. I just don’t want to have to watch it.”
Samhail leaned back in his seat and grinned at her. “I bet Cyra can see you glowing red with that lie all the way from Solandis.”
Her glare sharpened, but she was spared from having to answer by the arrival of her fyrebyne. She tossed the bright red liquid back and chased it with the last of her water as the strong spirit burned its way down inside her chest. Then she stood.
“I’m going back to the room,” she told Samhail. “I assume you’ll settle our tab as usual.”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer. Instead, she bumped her hip into the lingering barmaid as she left so the woman fell onto Samhail. The woman’s cry of indignation turned to one of delight as she landed across his lap, and Talyn smiled to herself. That should keep him busy for a while.
Talyn hurried back up to their room as her mind reeled. How had she not realized what day it was?
Once inside, she shut the door, then leaned against it, breathing hard. She was always so composed, so strong…
Every day but this day.
Talyn closed her eyes and tried to inhale deeply. She swallowed the fyrebyne down again as it threatened to come back up.
That day ten years ago was as clear in her mind as if it had been today. There’d been so much blood. She could still feel how sticky it was on her hands, how it had made her shirt cling to her body.
That was the day the girl she’d been had died. The next day – the first day of Spring – she’d been reborn as The Raptor.
Talyn pushed herself off the door and stood in front of the mirror that sat on top of the dresser. She watched as her face shifted, as it grew rounder, as the red in her hair deepened, and her eyes turned more hazel than green.
The face that stared back at her was familiar, but she had the sudden fear she might not have gotten it right.
After all, it had been twelve years since she’d seen her sister.
Was the chin right? Had Julia’s lips been fuller?
She couldn’t remember now, and a lead weight settled in her stomach at the realization that her memory of her sister’s face was fading.
Talyn fingered the locket at her neck. Julia had indeed given it to her – she hadn’t lied to Samhail about that – but Talyn had meant to have a miniature portrait painted of her sister to put inside.
She’d never had the chance before Julia was killed, though, so the locket had sat empty at her throat, no picture to help her remember her older sister’s face.
The locket wasn’t actually empty anymore, but what she kept there now wouldn’t help her remember Julia.
Talyn let the rest of her body shift to what she thought her sister’s had looked like. Her clothes shifted as well so she now wore a dress, something simple like Julia had always preferred.
She grabbed her cloak from where she’d thrown it over a chair and slung it over her shoulders. She probably only had seconds before Samhail came looking for her. If she was going to leave, she needed to go now.
She pulled open the door to their room and looked down the hallway.
It was clear, so she slipped out and hurried toward the back staircase.
She went down the stairs as quickly as she could and emerged onto the side street next to the building.
She peeked around the corner, and when she didn’t see Samhail, she stepped onto the street and started walking.