32. Clash of Stone and Steel
Clash of Stone and Steel
Talyn
Talyn snapped to attention a couple hours later when her horse knickered, and she surveyed the area for signs of trouble.
She was annoyed to realize she’d been lost in thought about Samhail kissing her, and she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings as they rode.
It was wholly unlike her, and she chastised herself for such carelessness.
She needed to get her head on straight and stop daydreaming like some kind of foolish, lovestruck maiden. For fuck’s sake, it was like she’d never been kissed before.
Well, not like that she hadn’t anyway.
Talyn eyed her horse. Animals were great at sensing danger, and she often counted on them to provide advanced warning. She listened closely now for the faintest sound, the scrape of a sword leaving its sheath, the winding of a crossbow, or the snap of a twig under a heavy boot.
There was nothing.
Not ready to relax yet, she scanned the trees for movement or a pop of color that might be out of place among the shades of green and brown that dominated the landscape. Again nothing. Her horse’s knicker was apparently just that. Only a knicker.
What finally convinced her there was no imminent threat was the ease with which Samhail rode just ahead of her.
All his muscles were relaxed – or as relaxed as she’d ever seen them get with him – and he rode with the barest arch to his back that bespoke a lack of tension in his spine.
It was the want of urgency in his body that calmed her own nerves.
If Samhail wasn’t worried, she didn’t need to be either.
Samhail’s posture could be deceptive, though. Even if she’d let her own guard down, she suspected every one of Samhail’s senses was alive and alert for danger, despite what his seeming relaxation might say.
She was shocked he’d let her ride her own horse. Not that it really mattered anymore. Without the caronium cuff, he couldn’t keep her from porting. He had to trust she wasn’t going to run or try to kill him again.
Strangely, she had no desire to do either anymore. She still didn’t know what they’d do when they met Sandrian, but she at least accepted they were going to see him, and she might as well make the most of this time with Samhail. The gods knew he was nice to look at, even if she couldn’t touch him.
They hadn’t spoken again since getting back on their horses. Talyn wasn’t much more of a conversationalist than Samhail was, but the silence was starting to grate on her.
For the gods’ sakes, she’d almost slit his throat earlier, but instead of killing her as he should have, he’d taken her to the ground, kissed her soundly, slid a couple fingers inside her, then licked her wetness off them.
Surely they had some things to talk about.
“Why don’t you get along with Surgeon and Serise?” she asked suddenly, and her voice cut the quiet like a knife.
She wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she’d needed to say something, just to break the silence.
Samhail gave her a half-glance over his shoulder before turning forward again. He didn’t answer, and Talyn pursed her lips at the dismissal before nudging her horse forward to pull up next to his.
“People who ignore me usually find it doesn’t end well,” she said.
He snorted. “And what are you going to do if I ignore you? Scratch up the front of my neck some more?”
Talyn scowled at him. “I’m already regretting not following through on that,” she said. “But why not just answer me and make this journey less monotonous on both of us?”
He sighed. “I don’t get along with any of my siblings,” he said with a shrug.
“Gargoyles aren’t really brought up to value family bonds, and truth be told, my siblings aren’t the kind of people I like to associate with.
Surgeon and Serise aren’t as bad as Sadira and Soldier, but the twins have always had their own special relationship with each other, so there wasn’t much room for anyone else with them.
Then, of course, there’s the fact that they’re both batshit insane. ”
Talyn raised a brow. “And Lord Bressen still hired them to protect Lady Cyra? That seems risky.”
“They won’t hurt Cyra.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He paused. “Just trust me. They won’t.”
“Because you’d make them regret it?”
A smile cracked his lips. “I would, but that’s not the only reason.”
“And you’re not going to tell me the other reason?”
“No.”
She frowned. “What exactly is between you, Cyra, and Bressen?” she asked. She didn’t really expect him to answer, but she had to ask. Her curiosity was killing her.
Yes…curiosity. That’s all it was.
“That’s, as you said, between us,” he answered.
“You just put your hands down my pants and tried to fuck me with your fingers,” she countered.
“I’d like to know if I’m getting into the middle of something between you and two of the most powerful perimortals on the continent.
I want to be sure Cyra isn’t going to burn me alive or turn me into a pig the next time I see her. ”
He chuckled. “She won’t.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for that?”
“Yes.”
Talyn growled her frustration and jerked the reins to guide her horse off the path toward a stream.
“What are you doing?” Samhail asked, following her.
“I need a break, and my horse needs water,” she snapped as she slid off her saddle.
Samhail dismounted and led his horse to the stream to drink as well.
“Why are you so intent on knowing what’s between me, Bressen, and Cyra?” he asked. Then he added, “If there was something.”
“When I was sitting on your lap as Cyra,” she said carefully, aware she was treading on dangerous ground, “you said you couldn’t do anything because you didn’t have Lord Bressen’s permission to touch me…uh, her. Tell me that wouldn’t make you curious.”
“What’s your theory?” he asked.
“I told you before, either the lord likes to watch his wife with other men, or the two of you fucked her together.”
“Jealous?” he asked with a half smirk.
“Jealous that you got to fuck Cyra?” she said, turning to him with a sly smile. “A bit. The lady is beautiful, and she moans rather prettily.”
His mouth actually fell open at that.
“And just in case you’re wondering,” she said, doubling down, “I’ve fucked a woman before when I shifted into a man, so if you want to compare cocks sometime…”
She let the thought hang in the air. He’d probably never considered she could take the form of a man – most people didn’t – and she wondered suddenly how he felt about that. To her surprise, his expression changed from one of shock to intrigue.
“Gods damn me,” he said, and his eyes went unfocused as if he were imagining it. “I’d pay a fortune to watch you and Cyra in bed together.”
Talyn rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure he was still picturing her as a woman in bed with Cyra, but she’d let him have this.
“So am I right?” she asked.
“Right about what?”
“Does Lord Bressen just like watching you with his wife, or did the two of you fuck her together?”
He looked at her a moment. “Tell me how many people you’ve assassinated, and I’ll answer your question.”
Her eyebrows went up. That’s all he wanted to know?
“Two hundred and seventy-two,” she said.
He looked surprised. Whether it was surprise that it was so many or surprise she knew the exact number so readily, she wasn’t sure.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Answer my question first.”
He was quiet a long time, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer.
“Bressen and I shared Cyra on the last Harmilan,” he said finally.
Talyn fought back the twisting in her stomach. She’d been dying to know what had happened – was certain he’d fucked Cyra – but now that she knew the answer, she felt anything but triumphant. She felt…queasy.
“I’m twenty-six,” she said past the knot in her throat.
“Fuck,” Samhail said, shaking his head.
That wasn’t quite the reaction she’d been expecting, but she didn’t question him.
“And you made your first kill at sixteen?” he asked. “Is that true?”
Talyn stiffened but nodded. “I didn’t kill again for another year or so after that, but yes. I was sixteen the first time I killed someone.”
He eyed her as if seeing the girl she’d once been, and she turned away from him.
“Who did you kill?” he asked.
“A very bad man.”
“Bad how?”
He stepped closer to her, and her skin prickled at his nearness. If he touched her right now, she might just give in to him.
He didn’t touch her, though.
“He was a murderer and a rapist,” she said. “He’d killed several women I knew of by the time I found him.”
“What did you do to him?”
“I…did more or less what he did to his victims. Tortured him. Violated him. Killed him. I spent five hours letting him die slowly.”
“Why him?”
She huffed a laugh. “Why not him?”
“There must’ve been a reason you chose him specifically. Something that brought him to your attention?”
She smiled sadly. “There was.”
Several seconds blew away on the wind before his hand closed on her arm, and he turned her toward him. She had to crane her neck up.
“It sounds like revenge,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not revenge. Punishment.”
She flinched for a second time as he lifted his hand to brush the back of his finger down her cheek.
Her body was too used to reacting defensively when someone raised a hand to her, but his gesture was achingly tender, and she struggled to keep her face passive.
When he reached her chin, he held it lightly while his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and she fought the urge to port away from him.
His touch was too familiar. Too gentle. Too… risky.
Samhail began to lower his head, and her eyes flared. Gods above, he was going to kiss her again.
A hundred thoughts tumbled over each other in Talyn’s mind as she tried to decide whether to pull away or let him kiss her.
She was shocked by how much she wanted to feel his lips on hers again, but there was a voice in her mind screaming at her to turn away.
She smothered it and parted her lips in invitation.
So much for his promise not to touch her again.