Page 78 of Voidwalker
Antal’s nose wrinkled. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m concerned about, actually.” She set the hare down then wiped her hands on a rag with authoritative swipes. “If you’re going to hang around here? I need to know you won’t pick off any villagers. Or, you know,me, while I’m sleeping.”
He huffed. “You think it would be while you’re sleeping?”
Look at him, beingfunny. Fi wasn’t amused. “How long can you last?”
He considered, a tight flick to his tail that left her uneasy. “I could go a month without food before… unpleasant consequences. Shorter, if I must make large energy expenditures.”
They both fell grim, reliving their bout with Tyvo, the heinous condition Antal had returned in. Even Fi felt that heightened pang of hunger this morning, her body seeking to replenish the energy she’d spent fighting a daeyari and healing her wounds.
“I can last a little longer,” Antal said. “Regardless. A meager rabbit won’t help.”
“If you say so, Antlers. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Setting aside the past several days of bad to worse to unfathomably atrocious, Fi enjoyed his gritted teeth at the name. Maybe she was playing with fire. But Antal betrayed a crucial hand during yesterday’s escape, revealing he cared atleast alittleabout keeping her alive. She bored into weakness like a weevil took to rotten wood.
Anything to convince Fi she wasn’t doomed already. That inviting this daeyari into her home a second time hadn’t tightened a snare on her neck.
“Careful, mortal.” Antal spoke low, serrated. “I can imagine plenty of uses for your bones.”
“Oh, please. Bone threats? Give it a rest.”
“You think I’mbluffing?”
He prowled closer. Fi had noted the daeyari’s silent footfalls enough times, she recognized the clack of claws against floorboards as an intimidation tactic. Should she fall quiet at the threat? Slink away like a defenseless hare? Antal was the strongest ally she had, her best chance of saving Nyskya. She couldn’t afford to lose his favor.
But he’d only ever suffered her when she stood her ground.
“You know, when I was growing up”—Fi pushed away from the counter, closing the distance between them—“we had a pet cat. Matted gray fur, one milky eye from a fight with a raccoon. Hideous bastard. The meanest temper you’ve ever seen. Every month, we had to douse that little monster for fleas, and he’d spit and hiss and claw. But the moment you pinned him down? He flopped over like a wet rag. All noise. No action.”
Antal’s eyes simmered crimson. Less than a stride between them now, ozone sharp in her nose, but Fi couldn’t back down. Those were the rules of this game.
“That’s you,” she said. “You’re the cat.”
“You press your luck, Fionamara.Myclaws do more damage than a house cat.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” Not since seeing him caked in blood in her tub. Not since he’d fought Tyvo for her. Why save her life, just to cut her open the next day?
“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”
That one, Fi wasn’t ready for. The thunder in her ears should have been her little secret. Could Antal hear it? Smell it? Didn’t matter. She’d made too much progress to slip back.
“Involuntary reactions don’t count.” She clicked her tongue, a sound to mask the quiver. “Just because my dumb lizard brain says youcouldeat me, doesn’t mean I believe you’d do it.”
“Prove it.”
Another surprise. Fi hesitated. “Prove what?”
“You claim you aren’t afraid of me? Prove it.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”
The truth was, Fi didn’t know how far she could push this beast. She could study every flick of his tail, could read into that crack in his guard when he’d reached for her face the night before, but she didn’tknowif he really was a house cat who’d flop when his bluff got called. Just as likely, she could be near an inflection point, a jab too far that would bring those fangs down upon her. A perilous line to dance around.
No point in dancing, then.
“Bite me,” Fi said.
