Page 32 of Curse of Darkness
But Finn will have to do.
“Packs are ready,” the enormous fae warrior says, dumping a heavy-looking canvas bag next to another. “Enough supplies to make it through the north and back again. Did you talk to her?”
“She won’t answer the door.”
He grunts under his breath. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. This isn’t Eris. I thought she’d be the first to volunteer to bring him back.”
“Bring who back?”
Finn straightens. It’s amazing how easily he can slip his skin. One moment he’s laughing. Smiling. Threatening to dump me in the horse trough. And in the next moment, something lethal gleams in those cold blue eyes. None of the charismatic, charming joker remains. Instead, it’s like finding a predator in your midst.
I spin around, following his line of sight.
“Relax,” Edain drawls, once again clean-shaven and groomed as he steps into the courtyard. His dark hair has been slicked back, revealing cheekbones that could cut like a knife, and if Finn’s the monster in the undergrowth, then Edain’s a sleek, lethal panther. “If I wanted Vi dead, she’d be dead.”
“Where’s Baylor?” Finn growls. No doubt the two of them have concocted some plan to ensure Edain isn’t given a single moment alone to stir trouble.
Edain rolls his eyes. “Breathing down the back of my neck. As always.”
Two seconds later, I catch a glimpse of pale, silvery hair as Baylor and Lysander follow him. Both of them carry heavy saddlebags.
“Here,” Baylor says, tossing the one in his arms at Edain.
Edain staggers back as he catches it, gritting his teeth faintly. “Thanks.”
“Horses are there,” Baylor continues, gesturing to where a pair of stable boys lead several horses out.
“And my knives?” Edain asks.
“You’ll get your knives”—Baylor cuts him a look—“when I’m ready to give them back to you.”
Arguing with Baylor is like arguing with a wall.
The look Edain gives me is almost enough to make me smile.
Almost.
“There you are, baby girl,” Lysander murmurs, stroking the gray muzzle of his favorite mare. He offers her a sugar cube, talking sweet nothings to her that would make half the males at court jealous. “Did you miss me?”
Edain eyes the murderous-looking black gelding pacing fractiously beside Lysander’s mare. “I’ll assume that black bastard kicks.”
“Bites too,” Baylor replies, baring his teeth in a smile. “Has a habit of bucking when he thinks your attention has strayed. And watch out for low-hanging branches, because he’ll scrape you off any chance he gets. But he’ll outrun anything with legs.”
Lysander snickers. “Including you if he dumps you on your ass.”
“Duly noted.” Edain runs a gloved hand over the gelding’s smooth neck, removing it swiftly when the horse bares its teeth at him. “A little petty though.”
“What are you talking about?” Lysander asks, slinging his saddlebags over the back of his horse. “That black prick belongs to Baylor. He just gave you his best mount. It’s not his fault they share a personality.”
“And if you don’t bring him back in one piece, then you and I will be having words.” Baylor gives his horse a pat.
Edain carefully takes up the reins and swings up into the saddle. The gelding flicks an ear back and whickers.
“Be good,” Baylor tells him, capturing the bridle with both hands and bringing his face close to the gelding’s. “No biting the goblins. They taste like shit, and you might catch something.”
“But I guess I’m fair game?” Edain mutters.
Baylor shrugs. “You’ve been warned.”
