26. Clash of Stone and Steel
Clash of Stone and Steel
Talyn
Talyn and Samhail spoke very little the rest of the day, and while this wasn’t unusual when they were riding, the silence felt almost palpable.
Talyn might just be imagining things, a paranoia now that she’d decided to escape and kill him, but it unnerved her in a way she’d never experienced before.
They had to camp in the woods again that night, since there wasn’t a town nearby, and Talyn was beginning to think Samhail planned it that way on purpose.
He seemed to be trying to keep her away from people, either so she couldn’t seek help from them, or because he was afraid she might use them against him. Like she might take hostages.
Talyn could handle the hard ground and the unpredictability of sleeping outside if she had to, but she much preferred a soft bed and the option of a hot bath. Hells, even a room temperature bath would be fine at this point, but that apparently wasn’t in the cards.
Talyn glanced at Samhail across the fire as he finished eating his share of the pheasant he’d brought down.
He’d made her come with him while he hunted so he could keep an eye on her, and she hadn’t protested.
She was curious how he’d hunt without a bow and arrow, but it turned out his method was faster and easier.
He’d stunned the bird with a forcefield.
Talyn tore her eyes from Samhail and looked into the fire. If she watched him too long, she’d rethink her plan, and she couldn’t do that. It was either him or her.
“You’ve been quieter than normal.”
Samhail’s voice boomed through the small clearing after the protracted silence of the day, and she jumped.
“You’re not exactly chatty yourself,” she said defensively.
He shrugged. “No, but I’ve come to expect at least the occasional sarcastic comment or observation from you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired,” she said. “I think your ego is sucking up all the air around us.”
He chuckled. “That’s more like it.”
“Can we please find a town to stay in tomorrow? I need a bath and an actual bed to sleep in.”
“Do you ever stop complaining?”
“When I stop complaining, you accuse me of being too quiet.”
He cocked his head to concede the point. “Fair enough.” He wiped his hands on a cloth – he seemed to have an endless supply of them – and leaned back to look at her.
“So how did you become an assassin?” he asked.
Talyn huffed a laugh. “Is it the part of the journey where we share our origin stories?” she asked, looking up. “Shall I tell you all about my dark tragic past?”
His gaze felt like a heavy cloak on her.
“Is there one?” he asked.
“A dark tragic past?” she said. “Of course there is. Do you think I chose to become an assassin because all the seamstress jobs were taken?”
“But I don’t get to hear the story?”
“Not tonight. Feel free to tell me yours, though. I suppose mercenary was your fallback after being a shepherd fell through?”
“Not shepherd. Minstrel. I love the lute, but I can’t play for shit.”
Talyn smiled despite herself as she pictured him with a lute slung across his back instead of his swords.
He started to speak again, but Talyn cut him off.
“I’m going to sleep,” she said as she stood up and went to her horse to retrieve her blanket and the cloak she usually rolled into a pillow.
“I suppose we should get some rest,” he said with a sigh.
“Stay up if you want,” she said, but he ignored her and collected his own blanket.
Talyn lay down facing away from the fire, but as she suspected, Samhail laid his blanket down next to hers and climbed in behind her. He sidled up so his body wrapped around hers.
“You don’t have to sleep so close,” she grumbled.
She froze as his fingers grazed across her cheek before he pulled the hair back from her ear and neck.
The gesture was almost sensual, and for a moment she couldn’t hear over the alarm bells clanging in her head.
She waited to see if he’d do something else, but after a moment, Samhail’s arm only snaked around her waist and pulled her to him as before.
“Yes, I do,” he said.
His leather and earth scent curled its way up Talyn’s nose, and she closed her eyes.
She was too aware of every place his body touched hers…
including the hard length of him pressed against her backside.
With anyone else, it wouldn’t even be a question.
She’d turn over, push him onto his back, and throw a leg over him to ride him until they both collapsed in pleasure.
But something was different with Samhail. Instinctively she knew if she crossed that line with him she’d be done for. So she wouldn’t cross it. Not now, and – after tonight – not ever.
Samhail’s hand inched down her stomach toward the apex of her thighs, and the muscles between her legs tightened in anticipation.
The desire to part her legs and let him slip his fingers inside her was nearly overwhelming.
Talyn couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone this badly before.
Her body actually ached with the need for him.
She could let him touch her, couldn’t she? Just this once?
“No,” Talyn managed to say, the word nearly lodging in her throat. It was more plea than command, but Samhail’s hand stopped immediately.
He exhaled deeply and moved his hand back up, but he pulled her even tighter against him.
Talyn stifled her whimper at the feel of his cock against her ass.
His breath tickled her ear, and she shut her eyes firmly as she willed herself to fall asleep.
She was tired enough, but her body was alive everywhere he pressed against her.
It was twenty minutes before she heard Samhail’s even breathing. Only then did she let herself relax enough to try to sleep.
Easier said than done. It was another three quarters of an hour before her body finally wound down enough to let her drift off, her plan clear.
Talyn
Talyn woke again exactly an hour later the way she’d trained herself to do. It had taken years, but she’d set her internal clock to know when she’d slept for an hour, and she could make herself wake thoroughly and immediately at that time.
Her eyes opened to the darkness of the forest as she took stock of her situation.
Samhail’s arm was still around her waist, her back pressed firmly against his chest, and she still felt the warmth of his breath against her ear.
She refused to indulge in the nagging desire to just enjoy his closeness and instead reached up carefully to pull the small piece of metal out of her mouth from where she’d tucked it between her gums and cheek.
She gave a quick prayer of thanks to the Protector she hadn’t swallowed the hairpin in her sleep, then brought it down to her wrist to start working at the lock on the caronium cuff.
Being able to pick a lock on shackles or caronium cuffs was a must in her line of work, but she hadn’t had to do it in a while.
She’d managed to steal the hairpin from one of the shopkeepers while they’d bought supplies in that first town.
She hadn’t planned on using it except in an emergency, but as far as she was concerned, the situation with Samhail was now just that.
Five minutes later when she still hadn’t unlocked the cuff, Talyn had to admit she was out of practice.
That or they’d upgraded the locking mechanism on the cuffs since the last time she’d had to do this.
She was about to give up and try breaking a few bones in her hand when the cuff suddenly popped open with the loudest click she’d ever heard.
Talyn froze as she listened hard for any change in Samhail’s breathing, but his chest still rose and fell steadily against her back.
She waited a couple minutes more before carefully slipping the cuff off her wrist and tossing it gently aside into some tall grass.
She felt her power ramp up inside her the second it was gone, and she breathed a shallow sigh of relief.
Talyn reached out next to find the rock she’d spotted earlier. She’d surveyed the area before choosing a spot to settle down for the night, and she’d chosen this area because of the large, sharp rock that lay close by.
Inch by inch, Talyn reached out her hand until her fingers closed over it. The rock was just light enough for her to pick up with one hand but also heavy enough to crack Samhail’s skull with a hard enough swing.
She felt an unfamiliar pang at the thought. She rarely hesitated or had regrets once she decided someone needed to die, but she had them now. It seemed to be her new normal since meeting these people.
Samhail wasn’t innocent, she reminded herself. He had plenty of blood on his hands, more than enough to justify killing him, but something kept her from swinging the rock. Instead, she lay there tucked up against him with her hand closed over the hard, jagged stone, willing herself to just do it.
The rock felt brutally rough and cold under her fingers, and she told herself her delay wasn’t hesitation, but calculation. She didn’t have the leverage or angle to swing the rock with any force from this position. She’d need to port out of Samhail’s arms and then strike quickly.
She’d nearly decided to do it when Samhail’s voice cut through the darkness, making her jump.
“Can you hurry up and decide whether or not you plan to hit me with that rock so I can go back to sleep?” he said.
Fuck.
Talyn’s blood rampaged through her veins as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. He’d caught her, so the question now was whether she should let go of the rock and hope he was willing to forget she’d just been planning to kill him or go ahead and strike.