Page 62 of Deadly Maiden

“Yes.”

“I wanted to talk about that weapon but forgot to, and now I realize we only have a wash basin in here, and no running water…” He leans up over me on his elbow. “We need to clean up and then find somewhere to eat.”

“Okay.” I look up at my gorgeous dragonshifter. “It’s a complicated idea I have anyway. With the gheist and the etharum. It might be best to try it outside town, after all.” If anything goes wrong, we can run? “And I’m really hungry.”

“Me too.” Then he kisses me softly.

When he draws away, I hook my hand around the back of his head and halt him. “I could get used to having a kisser like you, mister dragonshifter. Can we do that again?”

“If you pay me.”

I snort and punch his chest then he wrestles my hand down, pins the other one to the floor, and blows a heap of raspberries on my breasts and stomach.

In the middle of the laughing, it occurs to me that for a pair of fugitives running from the enforcers, we are having too much fun.

I hope that isn’t a premonition. Then I wonder where Anathema is.

He appears later, in the middle of the night, as if I wished him into existence, and curls up at the bottom of our bed, just…like…a real cat. I don’t have the heart to make him leave.

Is this a hint that I should confess to Rorsyd?

Only, I don’t really know what Anathema is.

Chapter 17

Rorsyd

Venin recedes behind us.

Leaving so early was not our plan. Luckily, we bought supplies, clothes, and the horses yesterday.

A messenger bearing a warning from Hunder, banging on our door, woke us an hour before dawn. Enforcers are spreading out across Zardrake, bringing posters and stories of us with them. Staying longer is not worth the risk, even with the disguises. If this were simply me, I’d barely care.

But it is not just me, it is her…

In profile, she sits too stiffly, too high on the mare, not relaxed enough, but a few more days in the saddle may cure that. The tightness of her gray leggings across the tops of her thighs, her curves above, it’s too much stimulation for me, this early.

I’m smiling though, as I swipe across my mouth. If only I could fly us.

We could.

And risk being seen if I land near Langordin? I’ve already paid for new mounts.

Disguise or no disguise, her figure attracts me. I wonder if the effects are the same for her because she gave me hints that I looked plain. Being a dragonshifter I’m either immune to magik or it has a lesser effect. It could be that.

Two new horses carry us, a dun mare for Wyntre, a black gelding for me. I reach forward and rub between his ears. The traffic in and out of Venin is finally thinning, the last crowd of farmers with their carts piled with produce was five minutes ago. The land descends toward a thick belt of forest, after which it rises slowly into the hills to the north.

My gold satchel is lighter, and I feel the loss of every coin like a child has been snatched from me.

Then I see Wyntre, riding beside me, sharing this life, and I’m good.

Except…one day, no matter how we handle this Aos Sin affair, I know she will die. The lifespan of lesser fae is a hundred to a hundred and fifty, but her death will occur long before I die. If I ever die. I’d need to fall into a vat of acid or drink myself to death as I was once trying to.

Then I will be alone again. It will be a loneliness of an appalling depth I have never felt before. I’m unsure I can take that blow without disintegrating into dust, scales, and blood. How has this day turned sad?

I stare up the road.

A trio of men escorting a wagon piled with various boxes approaches, heading to Venin.

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