Chapter 17 #2
Faron’s face fell. “They’re lucky I respect you. If I had any less restraint, they would not be leaving this establishment with their heads, much less their fingers,” he growled, and his arms twitched around her.
“I’ll let you take a pinky.” She tested his reaction. Would her dark desire for revenge scare him away? How far would be too far for the noble?
His lips quirked. “You’re too generous.”
Tal matched his smirk and bit her lip. She hadn’t expected that response.
His arms remained around her for a breath longer before dropping. He took half a step back. “With Daire around, it will be difficult to watch the two closely. We should go find Ed and Waylon. It’s almost time for their shift.”
A twinge of disappointment clenched Tal’s stomach. Their day was coming to an end. She walked past the noble with her chin up, hoping to disguise the emotion. She could feel his gaze at her back. Once they were past the tavern and out of sight, she turned. “Are you coming, or not?”
Faron’s eyes shined with words he didn’t say, but he moved to her side, his arm brushing hers with each step.
They apprised Ed and Waylon of the events of the afternoon. An awkward air hung between them on the return to the tunnels. Faron had yet to bid her farewell, and Tal refused to look at him. She could feel his eyes on her. Finally, she’d had enough and turned to tell him off.
“Did you have a run-in with them before? Maybe you angered them somehow?” he blurted.
“What?”
“The mages. They’ve been after you since before the rescue at the mansion.” His eyes widened. “And before the incinerator. They were after you then too.” His voice trailed off. “You’re sure you haven’t done anything to warrant this hunt?” His voice held genuine concern.
Tal stopped in her tracks, causing Faron to step past her and then backtrack. Her resolve wavered. “I—no. They’ve been hunting me since the night Pochette’s burned down, likely even before.”
“So, they’re not hunting you for attacking them. Then why—?”
Tal started walking again, slowly. Her companion jolted to keep pace with her.
After a breath, she reluctantly explained, “They made a deal with Pochette to capture me. He and I had… a business agreement. I’d periodically check in to make sure he upheld his part.
He was going to use one of the meetings to ambush me and sell me to the mages. ”
His utter astonishment almost made her laugh. “Okay… I’m going to assume that you did not take that lightly. I’d love to hear about your reaction, but why hunt you in the first place?”
Tal paused. That same question from before plagued her. Could she trust him? For her own safety, she had refrained from sharing her ability when they first met, but after spending so much time together, she’d grown to accept the noble as a regular in their crew of misfits.
It had been years since she’d shared her secret with anyone new, not even Daire had been awarded that privilege.
She showed Carrick after only a few days out of necessity.
She’d taken a few months to open up to the twins.
Egan had witnessed her fury when he stumbled upon Tal in a skirmish.
She immediately accepted him into their group for jumping in to help her.
She’d only known Faron for a few weeks, and so much about him still remained a mystery.
But something about the noble drew her to him.
She steeled herself and said, “Come on.”
The Kiln was the safest place to practice her fury.
She’d occasionally used magic elsewhere in the tunnels or even on the surface, but she always ran the risk of being noticed or starting a fire.
Tal ushered Faron into the small room and closed the door with a screeching metallic thud.
His unease did not come as a surprise. Scorch marks marred the floor and ceiling, and questionable burnt remains sat in a small pile at the center of the room.
“Okay, so they’re after you because you own a really great torture chamber?” He laughed nervously.
“I’m about to trust you with something that, if it got out, would put a price on my head higher than anything you’ve ever seen before.”
“A bounty hunter with a bounty?” he attempted a joke once more.
Rather than telling him, she held her palm, face up, in front of her. His brows furrowed.
Tal called to her fury. Pulling at the energy within, she felt a low tingle in her chest. Slowly, it crawled to her shoulder and walked down her arm.
She exhaled and the weight of a pebble sat in her palm.
It warmed as the pressure built. Soon a light glow emitted from the center.
She studied Faron’s reaction. When his eyes widened at the appearance of light, she pulled more fury into her hand, and the glow rose into a single flame.
Faron’s mouth opened in astonishment. The single flame grew into a ball the size of her fist. He stiffened as her fury reflected in his eyes. She let the fireball double in size until she tamped the energy feeding it. By then, Faron’s jaw had hit the floor.
Tal played with the ball of fire, letting it roll to her fingertips, and to the back of her hand, before returning it to her palm. She often performed the trick to combat boredom. If she really concentrated, she could toss the flame in the air and catch it like a ball.
“Bleeding hells, Tal! You have fury!”
“I’ve noticed,” she said darkly.
“You have FIRE fury!”
“Yes, I know.”
He ran his hands through his hair, turned around, took two steps, then turned back. He fidgeted, running a hand over his face. “They’re after you because you have fire fury!” he exclaimed. “Oh hells, they’re after you because you have fire fury,” he repeated with grim realization.
She nodded coolly. “I’m aware. By the way, you can’t tell anyone, not even Ed or Waylon.”
“That part’s obvious. What are we going to do?”
Tal chuckled. Her prior hesitation to tell him seemed silly now. “We? Are you involved now?”
“Aren’t I?”
“Are you?”
“I’d like to bet my coin on ‘yes.’”
She snuffed out the flame. “I’ll consider it. What do you bring to the table?”
“Good with a sword? A winning smile?” He tilted his head waiting for a response. “Battle axes?” he drawled.
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin, feigning deep thought. “Those are decent arguments. There’s one problem though.”
“Name your price.” He narrowed his eyes, pretending to be dreadfully serious.
“You are terribly distracting.”
Faron straightened and couldn’t help the smug expression on his face.
“Am I?” He stroked an invisible beard. “That is a dilemma. But I don’t think you have much choice.
Now that I know,” he took two steps toward her, “you’ll need to keep me close to make sure I don’t do anything…
” he took two more steps until the tips of his boots knocked her own, “compromising,” he finished.
Tal had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. She bit her bottom lip, and his pupils expanded. That infuriating smile suggested he could read her mind.
He slid his thumb along her jaw, sending goosebumps down her arms. He leaned down and paused before their lips touched, eyes locked on each other. “The question is,” he breathed, “can you focus enough to stay out of trouble?”
He stepped back unexpectedly, the space between them cold. What a tease.
Irritation flared, and she swallowed the flame that threatened its way to the surface. Her cheeks prickled.
Faron’s smile faltered. He blinked three times and opened his mouth to say something when someone pounded on the steel door.
“Tal, you in there?” The metal door muffled Carrick’s voice.
Tal blinked a few times to clear her head. She watched Faron as she walked to the entrance. His brow pulled down in confusion, and he seemed distracted by something. She wrenched the door open.
Carrick filled most of the doorway and briefly flicked his eyes from Tal to Faron and back again. “Rain has new information.”
She crossed her arms. “About?”
His gaze caught Faron again before answering. “About what Sybil saw,” he answered vaguely.
Tal remembered Sybil’s vision involving the Pyrie. They hadn’t gained any information about the legend in weeks. “Is everyone back?”
Carrick nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Then let’s go.” She started pushing the enormous man out of the way.
After two steps, she turned her attention over her shoulder and jerked her head in the direction of their tunnels.
“Come on, you too. You might as well hear this.” Carrick protested, but she silenced him by saying, “He knows, Carrick.”
His eyes grew wide. He again flicked his gaze between his friend and the noble. “Tal—” he began, a hint of warning in his voice.
“Oh, get over it, Duckie. It’s amazing he hasn’t figured it out already.”
The use of his nickname made Carrick snap his mouth shut. Tal walked past, followed by Faron who watched Carrick, barely restraining a laugh.
“Duckie, huh?”
“Don’t make me dislike you, swordsman.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he singsonged, skipping after Tal with his hands clasped behind his back.
Carrick half-groaned, half-growled and followed after them.