Page 16 of Orc's Desire

The big guy frowns then pushes me roughly away.

“Then get to it,” he barks. “You think there is time to be wasted?”

“No,” I say through gritted teeth.

He walks on with the other in tow. I move too but watch over my shoulder making sure that this is really over. I walk past Mazabuta’s home, moving slow, but not wanting to stop until they are no longer in sight.

I turn a corner, press myself to the wall, count two hands of time, then peek around the corner. I don’t see them, but still I wait to make sure that they are gone. The Maulavi are, to a one, sneaky bastards.

Two more hands of time pass without sign of them but I am attracting attention from others, which is probably every bit as bad. One particular person seems to be expressing way too much interest. I notice him staring from his doorway while trying to pretend he is doing something to it. I stride over to him.

“You need help?” I ask, my voice low and gravelly, the threat clear.

I can smell his nervousness. Sweat beading on his forehead, he shoves on the door as if it is not set correctly though I can clearly see that it is. He jams on the door again, shaking his head.

“No,” he mutters. “No. Quake damage is all. I can fix it.”

I move right into his space, staring at him letting a slow smile spread over my face.

“Let me see, friend,” I say, grabbing the edge of the door and jerking it towards me with enough force to dislodge it from his hands. I lean closer still under the ruse of inspecting the door but now I’m close enough he will not miss my whisper. “Spying for the Shaman.”

He pales and a harsh gust of breath bursts from his lips. He shakes his head.

“I’m a citizen, I?—”

“Yes, citizen,” I say, moving my hand up and down the edge of the door as I inspect it. “Doing your duty. That is… good.”

I fix him with a glare and he freezes in place, his mouth partially open with whatever his next attempted excuse was going to be. I can practically watch it die on his tongue.

“Y-ye-yes,” he stutters.

“Do your duty,” I growl. “The door is fine.”

I turn and walk away. His sigh of relief is so loud I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it echo back at me. I walk around the corner letting him see my direction. He won’t know more because I am confident I put enough fear into him to not cross a line but also to keep him from trying to follow me.

I step up to Mazabuta’s door and knock. I hear him inside, slamming something, then the door jerks open.

“I told you two that I will no—” he cuts off mid-yelling.

He leans out the door, looks both ways, then grabs my arm and pulls me inside.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Hi,” his human female says.

She is in the kitchen working on food. The smell of a broth fills the air and makes my stomach grumble. His human female is not as pretty as Gweneth. She doesn’t have the same fullness in her hips and her face is narrower, less round. Pretty, yes, but not as.

“Hello,” I say, ignoring Mazabuta for the moment. “Your cooking smells very nice.”

“You want breakfast?” she asks. I consider saying no so as not to intrude but my stomach rumbles loudly and she takes that as an answer. “Take a seat. It’s almost done.”

Mazabuta growls and fixes me with a glare, but motions with one hand to his table. I give him a half-smile of appeasement and take the offered seat. He helps the female to serve up the food.

I watch them work together. A warmth starts in my chest and my heart beats faster. They move with each other, never in one another’s way, gliding around the kitchen as if this is something they have practiced to perfection. They prep and serving the food in synchronicity. They seem to know what the other is doing before they move. In a very real way it is beautiful.

And I am jealous of them. They take their seats at the table and I inhale the scent of the stew.

“Thank you, this smells amazing,” I say.

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