2. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
Talyn heard movement on the bed and chanced a quick look around the corner. Cyra was lying with her back against the lord’s chest, his arms around her shoulders. Talyn strained to hear what they were saying, but the lord’s mouth was close to Cyra’s ear, speaking low.
It was another minute or so before Bressen’s voice rose enough for Talyn to hear. “Nemesis damn me. That’s all? How many partners?”
Talyn frowned and listened harder, but the couple had lowered their voices again.
“Your arrogance is truly astounding,” Cyra said to her husband a little while later, and Talyn nearly snorted. At least they agreed on one thing.
A minute later, there was more shifting on the bed, and Talyn peeked around to find the lord now on top of his wife.
Nemesis take her. She should’ve seen that coming.
On the other hand, this might be the chance she needed to get away.
Talyn watched as Bressen entered his wife, making her gasp. The lady cried out as he thrust into her hard, and Talyn again wondered if Cyra enjoyed her sex rough or if she was a prisoner to her husband’s desires.
She pulled back. She couldn’t worry about it now. She needed to get out of here while she had the chance.
She glanced around the corner to be sure the couple was distracted, then she ported to within a few feet of the bedchamber door.
She barely materialized when she ported again outside into the large sitting room.
She put her ear to the door, but the sounds of fucking continued inside, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
She moved to the door of the sitting room and opened it very slowly, listening for any noise in the hall. Hearing none, she slipped out to hurry back toward the servants’ wing.
She moved quickly on feet practiced in silence, looking back once to be sure the bedroom door was still closed. Just as she turned back around, though, she ran into something solid.
Talyn barely managed to hold in her squeak of surprise as large, rough hands closed around her upper arms to steady her, and she raked her eyes up the body of the absolutely huge man before her.
There he was. The third of the trio of exquisite men in the house, and her personal favorite. Even in the dark, the man’s stature and long, stark-white hair told her exactly who it was.
Samhail.
She’d heard of him before coming to Solandis. Nearly everyone in her line of work had, but the bits and pieces of information that had reached her over the years hadn’t done the man justice. Big, imposing, and gorgeous seemed wholly inadequate descriptors for him.
Talyn knew from Sandrian that Samhail was a gargoyle, although she didn’t fully understand what that meant.
She’d heard of gargoyles before, had seen their stone likenesses on the roofs of temples, often with water spouting from their mouths, but she wasn’t sure how they were related to what Samhail was.
Supposedly he could shift into a giant stone monster, but if this man could transform into something more intimidating than what he already was, she couldn’t imagine it.
Talyn had done a double take the first time she’d seen him.
Lord Bressen was tall, but Samhail had more than half a foot on him.
One might’ve expected a man his size to lumber or trudge, but Samhail strode purposefully wherever he went, his long, thickly-muscled legs eating up the distance between him and his destination.
His white hair fell well past his shoulders, where he almost always wore it loose, and his eyes were so dark Talyn just assumed they were black. She also rarely saw him without the two long, razor-sharp blades that crisscrossed his back, and now was no exception.
Talyn balked. Why in the name of the Trinity was the man prowling the house at one o’clock in the morning fully armed?
“I didn’t expect to encounter anyone but guards at this hour,” Samhail said to her, “and you don’t look like a guard.”
His voice was deep but strangely smooth, and it did things to Talyn’s insides and between her legs she couldn’t think about right now. He hadn’t released her yet, and being this close to him wasn’t helping.
The assassin in her was a bit offended by his words, but in fairness, she was wearing her servant’s dress right now.
Thank the Protector she’d opted to wear the face of the lady’s maid she was masquerading as and not her own face despite the late hour, or not looking like a guard would’ve been the least of her worries.
“No, sir. I’m Lady Cyra’s maid,” she said, the tremor in her voice mostly unfeigned.
Samhail occupied an exalted place in the household, and she’d been told at her orientation to use the honorific when addressing him.
He let go of her arms and paused a moment. “Leeda?” he said, seeming to pull the name she was using from the recesses of his mind. “Your name is Leeda.”
She nodded, surprised he knew that.
“What are you doing out of your quarters so late, Leeda?” he asked.
Nemesis take her. She should’ve had an excuse ready. She was used to sneaking around and frequently had to come up with reasons why she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, but there was something overwhelming about Samhail’s presence that left her mind blank.
Talyn’s hand flew to the gold chain at her throat that held a large locket etched with a bird on it. “My necklace,” she said quickly. “I lost it earlier. It’s special to me, and I couldn’t sleep until I found it.”
She saw his frown, even in the dark.
“Where did you find it?” he asked.
“I was cleaning the lord and lady’s sitting room this afternoon,” Talyn said. “It fell off in there.”
The only door in this hall led to Bressen and Cyra’s chambers, so there was no other reason she could give for being down here. She might’ve been able to get away with saying she’d found the necklace in the hall, but there’d be questions as to why no one else had found it earlier.
Samhail’s brows went up. “So you snuck into the lord and lady’s chambers to look for your necklace?”
Talyn swallowed. It was like she’d never fucking done this before.
“I’m sorry,” she said nervously. “The necklace was a gift from my sister. Please don’t tell them.”
She must’ve put the right amount of fear and humility in her voice because he nodded once after a pause.
“You should get back to your quarters now, Leeda,” he said.
She bobbed a quick curtsey. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Talyn brushed past him, resisting the urge to run her hand over his muscled forearm, and hurried toward the stairwell.
She glanced back quickly to see Samhail disappear around the corner into the hall she’d just come from, and she sent up another prayer of thanks he hadn’t caught her porting. Trying to explain why she had such a rare power would’ve been challenging at best.
Minutes later, Talyn finally slipped back into her room and let her features morph into her own. Her body stretched up a few inches as her skin changed from olive to golden, and her brown hair spilled further down her back as it turned a shiny copper blonde.
In her own form, Talyn was beautiful, with striking features that demanded attention. She had a pert nose, high cheekbones, and full lips that one man had told her – just before she’d slit his throat – would look incredible wrapped around his cock.
She’d learned long ago her true features were entirely too conspicuous for the work she did, so when she was on a job, she made herself as forgettable as possible with common coloring, average height, and facial features that would easily be lost in a crowd.
The only time she wore her true shape and face nowadays was when she was alone.
No one else had seen her real face in nearly a decade as far as she knew.
Outside her rooms, out in the world, she was someone else.
She was always playing a part, wearing a costume.
She put on faces and bodies the way other women applied makeup or donned new clothes.
She’d left her room at an inn once wearing her own face by accident.
She’d been in a hurry and stepped out into the hall without thinking, but the second she’d crossed the threshold, she’d suddenly felt naked, exposed.
She’d shifted quickly before anyone saw her, darkening her hair and skin and flattening her hips and chest into those of a boy.
She shrunk herself five inches and pushed her body farther away from who she really was than she’d ever done before until she finally heaved a sigh of relief and headed out to meet her newest client.
Only the people she killed ever saw the one other face she wore regularly, the one so much like her own, but not hers.
Talyn laid down on her bed. Tomorrow she needed to start making a more concerted effort to learn about Samhail. If she did have to kill the Lord and Lady of Hiraeth, he would be the biggest obstacle to her success.
She’d seen Samhail and Lord Bressen spar once before, and once was enough to know they were both warriors of an entirely different caliber than she was used to.
As impressive as Samhail was, though, she could tell he was holding back when he sparred with the lord, and she longed to see what he could do when he wasn’t governing himself.
Part of her even wanted to match her own skills against him.
She was good with a blade, and she suspected her ability to port might give her a fighting chance against him.
Maybe one of these days she’d get the chance to see.