Chapter 6
First thing the next morning, I walk through the doors of the Tilted Crystal, and luckily, Thane is sitting in the same seat as the night before. Only this time he’s removed his cowl and he’s wearing a sleeveless gray tunic.
Since he held up his end of the bargain, this alliance is clearly meant to be.
His arms are thick, muscles rippling as he sips from a mug. He directs his gaze across the tavern, surveilling the place as if he’s on the lookout for threats, but when his eyes swing in my direction, he sighs and looks away.
Yep, I got the coins, dickhead.
The closer I come to his table, the clearer I can see the corded veins on his biceps and forearms. Sweat clings to his skin, and his curls are flatter and slightly damp, as if he just finished some kind of workout.
Or just hunted someone down and gutted them.
Whatever. I don’t care.
I slam the pouch down on his table with a triumphant huff.
“I was able to double the coins, and they’re all gold.
You’ll only get half up front. The rest you can collect if we make it back alive.
” I don’t have the other half on me, just in case he changes his mind and robs me instead.
The rest are stored in a boot under my bed.
“How do I know you even have the other half?” he asks.
I shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re asking me to trust the word of a person I don’t even know about the coins I’m owed in order to protect them on a journey where we both will probably die along the way?”
I shift on my feet. “Well…when you put it that way…”
He narrows those amber eyes at me. “They’re hidden in a boot under your bed. Clever.”
I gasp. “How did you—”
Now I want to run home and hide them somewhere else. How does he know that? Can he read minds with his magic? Yes, that must be it. What else could it be? Unless he has some kind of spying spell or something.
He picks up the pouch and dumps the coins on the table, cutting through my thoughts. The wisps of sunlight streaming through the window behind him cause the money to gleam, highlighting Orvena’s profile etched into each one.
Silently, he counts the coins one by one, taking his sweet damn time doing so. Once finished, he slips them all back into the pouch and pushes to a stand. With his rise, I angle my chin upward, trying to appear taller than I am.
Damn. I knew he was tall, but I didn’t realize we have such a massive height difference until now. He has to be nearly as tall as Bolivar, and that giant is usually the tallest in any room.
Speaking of, I’m glad Bolivar isn’t on duty yet. One of the other barmen is at the counter, his gray eyebrows raised as he studies us. He’ll probably snitch on me to Bolivar, but I’ll be long gone by then.
Stopping short of Thane’s bicep, I twist my lips when his eyes descend to mine. He looks at me, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. Like he’s trying to make sense of me. I swear I notice his eyes stop at the swell of my chest before dragging down to my hips and legs.
I shift on my feet under his stare as a sudden wave of warmth swims through my veins. That same warmth, however, comes with a hint of agitation. I step back and fold my arms to block his view. So typical of men to stare.
“You sure this is what you want?” he asks, connecting his eyes to mine again. “To go to the Temple of Elphar?”
My heart races a bit, but I nod before my mind can form a rejection. “Yes.”
He scans me again before nodding. “Okay. Let’s go, then.” He snatches up his cowl, vest, swords, and a black rucksack from a nearby table before trudging around me to exit the tavern.
“Wait. Where are we going?” I follow him into the street as a cluster of children giggle and run past. There is hardly a chill in the air today.
That’s the thing about weather in Meriva Empire.
One day you’ll need a coat, and the next you can rest on a patch of grass near a lake with the sun beaming on your face even though it’s still fall.
“Elphar,” Thane says, already weaving his way through the crowd. Well, I’m the one weaving. People are jumping out of his way to create a clear path for him.
“Now?”
He frowns over his shoulder. “Is that a problem?”
“No—well, yes, actually. I thought I’d have a little more time to prepare. I still need to pack, stop by the bakery I work at, and the refugee center. I need to let everyone know I’ll be gone for a few days.”
Thane comes to a rapid halt, and I slam into his solid back, only to be knocked off center and stumbling sideways. He twists around and catches me by the forearm just as a mule wagon rolls by.
He towers over me, glaring. Without his mask, his scars are much more prominent and twice as intimidating. The one beneath his eye is slightly red and raised around the edges, as if it happened recently.
He releases me. “That should’ve been handled already.”
I brush his hand away. “Yeah, well the bakery just opened, and the refugee center will only take a minute.”
“Refugee center?”
I push my specs back into position. “I volunteer there.”
“Of course you do.”
I frown. What’s that supposed to mean?
Thane starts to walk away from me.
I scurry behind him to catch up. “All I need is thirty minutes.”
He doesn’t even turn around but says over his shoulder, “Meet me back at the Tilted Crystal when you’re done fucking around.”
Uh, no.
I catch him by the upper arm before he can get too far away. He stares at my hand on his rock-hard bicep, then turns his absolutely livid eyes to me.
“I advise you not to do that again,” he warns.
Or what? I start to ask. But then I realize only a fool who has a death wish would counter with that question. I jerk my hand away.
“You have a pocket full of coins I paid you that you can easily run off with,” I explain, placing a hand on my hip.
He clenches his jaw, his patience clearly waning.
“Just follow me. My home is a short walk away from the bakery. We can stop at my place first, I’ll pack, and the next two stops will be a breeze.”
“You want me to follow you around like a dog?” he asks in a low growl…like a dog.
I blink up at him as his nostrils flare. Then, with a shake of his head, he closes his eyes, inhales, and then exhales, as if to calm himself.
“Wow. Nice breathing technique,” I quip when his eyes open again. “I didn’t take you for a man of patience.”
With a grimace, he tucks his thumb under the strap of his rucksack and grumbles, “Just stop talking and walk.”