CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Five days later, I smiled tiredly at the tavern’s main barmaid. “Two meads, please, Glory.” I barely got out the latter word before a yawn cracked my jaw.
The tavern was as lively as always with all the laughing, talking, singing, and gambling going on. I didn’t have the energy to be there. I would prefer to be in bed, but Khalida had talked me into coming here with her, since the rest of our group were busy with one thing or another.
Unhooking two tankards from the pegs above the bar, the Delphiae gave me a sympathetic look. “I heard that you had an ugly experience with green ants earlier.”
The memory made my brows lower. “Yep,” I grumbled. As if the trek through the marshlands hadn’t been bad enough, the candidates had afterwards been required to partake in some unnerving activities. The kind that made your pulse race, your stomach sink, and your bravado shrink to nothing.
Grimacing, the blonde puffed out a breath. “I remember having to lie in a tub with them for an hour when I went through Xalbia. Which tub did they put you in? The smaller one, or the larger one?”
“Neither,” I muttered. “It was a coffin.”
Her plush lips parted in what seemed to be a mixture of surprise and horror. “Fair play to you for not crying foul.”
I’d thought about it. Confined spaces didn’t bother me too much, but there was really nothing fun about being stuck in a coffin, let alone when it was filled with green ants.
Ants that tried slipping up your nose, crawling into your ears, scurrying over your lips, and attempting to edge their way up … other orifices.
A little shudder worked its way down my back at the sensory memories. I inhaled deeply, dragging the scents of woodsmoke, fermented drinks, and melted wax into my lungs. “It was an experience that I hope to never repeat.”
“How long did you have to stay in the coffin?” she asked, placing the tankards on the bar.
“Two hours.” It had felt more like six.
Shaking her head, she said, “I swear, the conditions of Xalbia get meaner every time. Did you get bitten a lot?”
“No. Green ants are not a fan of my blood, for some reason.”
“Well at least there’s that.”
“At least,” I agreed.
A laugh came from the people at the corner table nearest the door. Talon’s table. I fought the urge to look his way—something I now did consistently.
I’d stuck to my plan to work on somehow killing this visceral attraction between us. I figured that the key to crushing it would lie in not feeding it, which meant only giving him my time and attention when necessary. It seemed the most logical solution.
As such, though I greeted him politely and I talked to him normally, I spoke to him less nowadays. I didn’t look at him unless it was warranted. I kept things professional—no jokey or teasing comments. And I was sure to keep a physical distance between us where possible.
Basically, I’d taken a metaphorical step back from our dynamic, becoming friendly-but-distant.
In the beginning, it had earned me a few narrow-eyed looks from him, but he hadn’t otherwise reacted.
Not even the second night when we slept in the same room down in that bunker.
I had worried that I would again wake overflowing with restless energy, leaving us no choice but to spar again, but thankfully no such thing had occurred.
Before proceeding to put my plan in action, I’d suspected that following through with it wouldn’t be easy.
I’d been correct to think so. After all, how could one find it simple to resist letting their eyes settle on someone so pretty to look at?
And how could you force yourself to let someone ‘fade’ into the background of your attention when you had such a finely-tuned awareness of them?
With extreme difficulty, as it turned out.
At this point, his narrow-eyed looks had progressed to full-on Quit this shit glares.
He was no doubt of the opinion that I was being childish, or he might even mistakenly assume that I was being passive-aggressive.
On the contrary, I didn’t believe in making others pay for things they had no control over.
It wasn’t his fault that he seemed to resent this relentless thing that had sparked between us.
“Here you go,” said Glory, yanking me from my ruminations.
“Thanks,” I said, curling my fingers around each tankard. It was at that very moment that Bevan appeared at the bar.
“What are you having?” the barmaid asked him, perching a hand on her hip.
“A pitcher of beer.” His weary gaze cut to me. “You look like shit.”
Of course I did. I hadn’t slept in two days. Neither had he. “You look worse.”
He sighed. “I know.”
It had hit every candidate hard—particularly since we’d really needed sleep last night.
The earlier part of that day had been beyond tiring.
We’d been split into several groups and taken to different spots within the Pines where no beasts roamed.
Talon and the Marshalls had then ordered us to make our way back to the city …
which would not have been so bad if they hadn’t also hunted us down during the journey.
They had inevitably caught us all eventually. As a ‘punishment’ for not making it back home, we’d been then left in an ice-cave for the entire night, where it had been literally impossible to get any sleep.
Talon and Ajax had stuck close so that anyone who couldn’t handle the confinement or cold temperature could be released. Only two candidates had quit, just as only two had quit after their stay at the bunker. And so the number of candidates was now down to forty-three.
“How’s Seneca?” I enquired, remembering how shaken she’d been after being immersed in a tub of cockroaches earlier. She might be a complete tool, but I’d still felt bad for her.
Concern creased his brow, but it quickly smoothed away as he lifted his chin. “She’ll be fine,” he stated, clearly unwilling to let others see her as anything but strong.
“Good.” Lifting my tankards, I went to walk away.
“You should watch your back,” Bevan recommended, gripping the pitcher Glory placed in front of him. “Atticus is … not himself.”
And so might finally act on all the hatred he felt for me. “Thanks for the advice. Though I have to wonder why you’d warn me.” Bevan and I were civil to each other, but not in the sense that we’d offer each other advice.
“Two reasons. First, if I can convince you to be careful, he’ll then skip the opportunity to do something that could get him killed—I don’t want him dead.
Second, you saved my life once. I don’t like to feel indebted to people, so I’m returning the favor by warning you that you need to be cautious with your own life. Now we’re even.”
I gave a slow nod of understanding. “We’re even.” I blinked as someone abruptly appeared in the small space between me and Bevan. Talon, I quickly realized.
As the Cardinal silently placed an order with Glory, Bevan tipped his chin at me in goodbye and then scampered.
Good idea. I turned, meaning to cross to Khalida.
I didn’t get the chance.
Talon smoothly slipped in front of me, blocking my path. He folded his arms and planted his feet, his stance all business.
Staring at his throat, I inwardly sighed. He did this occasionally, placing me in a situation where I was forced to look at him whether I liked it or not.
I raised my gaze to his, finding it brimming with irritation. Nothing new there. I gave him a too-quick, somewhat distant smile. His glare intensified tenfold, and a muscle in his cheek ticked.
Whereas I would once have teased him about the whole glaring thing, now I only politely said, “Excuse me.”
His dark expression didn’t change, and he made no move to let me pass. An effort to provoke me, no doubt. But I wasn’t going to reproach him. Or joke with him. Or anything.
Instead, I took an idle sip of my mead. The fact was that I really wouldn’t need to do a damn thing to put an end to this scenario. I had a perfect solution. A solution that would soon make its way over here. It would appear any minute now. Any minute. One, two, three, four, five—
“Hi, Anara,” Skye stiffly greeted as she sidled up to him, a none-too-happy expression plastered over her face.
I felt my mouth curve. I knew I would be able to count on her to rescue me, though I was quite certain she wouldn’t think of it that way. She just wanted Talon away from me … and pretty much every other woman here, for that matter.
“Hello, Skye.” Taking in how the Phoenixian’s arm brushed his, I lifted my brows. She was typically careful to never touch him. “Are you two an item now?” I doubted it, but the prospect made my stomach do a nauseating tumble.
She averted her gaze briefly. “Uh, no.”
And my belly instantly settled. How annoying. Not bothering to fight the temptation to toss out a comment I knew would poke at his patience, I said, “That’s a shame. You look real cute together.”
Oh, his glare turned into an almighty glower that could surely flay skin from bone.
Her expression softened at my words, and she cast Talon a shy look … only to freeze when she noticed that he was not quite as touched by my remark.
I leaned into her and whispered, “I’m rooting for you.” I skirted around her and walked straight to the table that Khalida had claimed near the fireplace. The back of my scalp prickled, and I just knew he was still glowering at me.
Whatever.
I wasn’t going to concern myself with anything he did. Nope. I’d just leave him to it.
I set the drinks either side of the circular table, careful not to knock the candle or small tray of bread slices there. Taking the seat across from Khalida, I saw that she was staring at me funny. “What’s wrong?”
She wrapped a hand around her tankard. “That was my question.”
I felt my head twitch to the side. “Huh?”
“What did you say to Talon to make him mad at you?”
I gave an innocent blink. “Nothing.”
“Then why is he trying to burn holes into your head with his eyes?”