38. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
At the bar, Samhail drained his ale and fought the urge to rip the man’s hand clean off his body.
“Like this?” Talyn asked as the man finally stepped away from her.
She let her third knife fly. It stuck in one of the mid-range rings, and the three men cheered as Talyn pretended to be surprised at her improvement.
“It’s time to pay up,” the man said to her.
Talyn smiled and stepped toward him. The man didn’t waste any time pulling her against him and closing his mouth over hers.
One of his hands slithered up her side while the other threaded through her hair.
His tongue dove between her lips, and after a few seconds, Talyn laid a hand on his chest to gently push him away.
Samhail’s vision went red as something he’d never felt before roiled inside him.
The beast in him normally only stirred when there was real fighting to be done – bloody fighting – but it stirred now, and for several seconds he wasn’t entirely sure he could stop it from coming out.
He turned and gripped the edge of the bar as he saw the dark slate of his gargoyle skin creep up his arms from out of the markings on his forearms.
Fucking hells, he couldn’t change here. Not over this.
Samhail closed his eyes and willed his gargoyle form back into dormancy.
His skin prickled, and he felt his blood raging through his veins as he fought the shift.
It took every ounce of his strength to hold it back, to keep his wings and horns from springing out or his fangs from emerging.
He felt his body trying to grow, felt the beast trying to burst out of him.
It roared in his chest, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the blue glow of them reflected against the surface of the bar.
Not here, not now, he repeated to himself. Not here, not now. Please…
Samhail finally felt the beast withdraw as he breathed deeply. When he looked up again, mercifully, Talyn was no longer in the man’s arms.
A low growl rumbled from his throat as he realized she was now playing against the second man in the group.
Hearing Samhail’s growl, an older man who’d been sitting at the bar next to him downed his drink and left the tavern quickly.
Over at the dart board, the second man had landed two of his knives relatively close to the center.
One of Talyn’s knives was again stuck in the wall, but her second shot had made it into one of the outer circles.
The man threw his last knife, but it was far in the outer rings like Talyn’s second shot.
Talyn threw her last knife and then jumped in triumph as the knife landed a few inches from the bullseye.
“Did you see that?” she asked, throwing her arms around the neck of the second man. “I got it near the center!”
“That deserves a reward!” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and claimed her mouth.
Samhail gripped the bar again as the man’s hand slid down to cup Talyn’s ass, and she squealed as he dragged her against him.
He’d kill the man.
He’d kill all three of them. He’d rip their spines out one by one, then throw Talyn down and fuck her in the puddle of their blood for making him do it.
Samhail blinked and shook his head, unsure where such a dark thought had come from. This woman pulled at something inside him that he hadn’t even known was there. She seemed to call to his beast, and Nemesis damn him, the beast was answering.
“My turn,” the last man said as he went to retrieve the knives out of the board.
He handed Talyn her three knives and stepped up to the throwing line.
Instead of just taking his first shot, though, the man fired all three knives at the board, one after another.
They stuck just off the center making a triangle around the bullseye, and he turned back to Talyn with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Just pay up now, honey,” he said as he stepped toward her.
The man’s hand came up to brush the hair back from her neck, and Samhail’s eyes flicked to the spot at the crook of her shoulder where he’d bitten her.
The mark was still there, and he frowned.
Either the mark was unaffected by her shift into another form, or she’d chosen to keep it there when she shifted, and now he desperately wanted to know which it was.
The man’s hand skimmed across the fang marks without noticing them, but Samhail thought he saw Talyn shiver.
Samhail dug his fingernails deeper into the bar. He wasn’t sure he could watch her kiss a third man without tearing the top off it.
The man leaned in to claim his victory kiss from Talyn, but she held a hand up to his chest to stop him.
Samhail saw the hard glint in her eyes even from across the room, and hope swelled in his chest. She’d been willing to play her part as long as the challenge hadn’t been serious, but this man had thrown down a gauntlet, and Samhail knew she’d pick it up.
“Still,” Talyn said, pressing the man back, her voice less slurred, “I’d like to take my three shots.”
The man shrugged and moved out of the way. Talyn drained the ale from her glass and stepped up to the line.
In quick succession, she threw the knives at the board, each hitting the bullseye dead-on so the blades formed a tight cluster in the middle. A murmur went up from those in the tavern who’d been watching, and one of the men with Talyn swore under his breath.
Talyn shrugged at the third man who was now gaping at her.
“Sorry,” she said. “It looks like I win after all.”
The man’s face darkened. “Bitch! You were playing us.”
“I was playing along,” she corrected, “and I would’ve continued to do so if you hadn’t been a jackass about it.”
“Fuck you!” he said as he grabbed for her. His hand closed around her wrist, and he jerked her toward him. “I’m taking my kiss.”