Page 50 of Kill the Beast
“That idiot let me sleep all night,” she grumbled. He’d be dead on his feet, and would be lucky if he didn’t snap an ankle or fall into a ravine on their way back down the mountain.
Then she remembered: the canteen.Fuck.They’d have to spend the day searching for it, and, if by some miracle they actually found it, collect more water by moonlight that night.
She sat up with a groan. She hurt everywhere, but the skin around her wounds wasn’t hot to the touch, and she didn’t seem to have a fever. No infection—or venom—thank the Lady.
She pushed aside the tent flap to find Alderic lounging in one of the camp stools by the remains of the fire, tossing bits of beefjerky to Brandy, who snatched them out of the air effortlessly from his cushion.
“Good morning,” Alderic said brightly when she emerged.
“You’re cheerful for someone who didn’t sleep at all last night,” Lyssa said, kneeling to check Brandy’s wounds. They looked to be doing well, too, though he whined when she probed the skin around his stitches. Her throat tightened at the sound, and she planted a kiss on his cheek in silent apology. When she rose to her feet, the bullmastiff turned his attention back to Alderic and barked happily, waiting for another piece of jerky.
“He likes me now,” Alderic told her, and Brandy thumped his tail in agreement.
“I can see that. Why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”
Alderic shrugged. “I didn’t have the heart. You were out cold, snoring louder than a—”
“I don’t snore!” She crossed her arms, wincing when the movement stretched her stitches painfully.
“Oh, you most certainly do,” he said. “Besides, there was work to be done.” He reached for something on the ground beside his camp stool and tossed it to her.
The canteen Ragnhild had given them, full of water.
Lyssa gaped at him. “You found it.”
Alderic grinned. “After two moonlight swims last night, I found I fancied a third. It was quite invigorating, actually.”
She turned the canteen over in her hands, frowning. “I still don’t understand why those mermaids are so afraid of you.”
The amusement faded from his face, but his tone was flippant. “Fish aren’t usually known for being good judges of character, are they? Perhaps wearing all black makes me seem menacing.”
Lyssa snorted. “Maybe. If you had been in your old clothes, they probably would have laughed themselves to death and saved me the trouble of killing them.”
“Still so rude,” Alderic said, but he was smiling again, and there was a tenderness in his eyes. “Even after all I’ve done for you.”
An answering tenderness found its way to her lips, a smilesofter than the usual slashing grins she armored herself with. “My apologies, Mr. Menacing. You have my eternal gratitude.” She squeezed his shoulder, and he looked pleased with himself. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of this place, before anything else tries to kill us.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
“WHAT HAPPENED?”RAGNHILDbarked as Lyssa limped through the stone archway, supporting a semiconscious Alderic. Nadia leapt to her feet with a cry of concern, knocking over the basket of herbs beside her.
“Nothing,” Lyssa grunted, tossing their packs to the ground with a clatter. “The idiot stayed up all night so that I could sleep.” She adjusted the drape of Alderic’s arm around her neck, gritting her teeth against the strain his weight was putting on her stitched-up back. His head lolled, and he muttered something unintelligible. “Yeah, you regret that now, don’t you?”
His cheerful, pleased-with-himself energy had lasted for all of about two hours once they started down the mountain. By the time they broke for a hasty lunch he was swaying on his feet, and when they finally reached the place where the horse-cart had dropped them off the day before, he had tumbled into a ditch and stayed there, buried in bracken, until Lyssa hauled him out. She could have sworn she’d heard him snoring.
“So, he’s not hurt?” Nadia asked, eyeing him warily. “He’s just… tired?”
Alderic muttered something else and Lyssa snorted. “He says he’sheroicallytired.”
“Heroically?” The witches shared a bemused glance.
“I’ll tell you after I dump him in the smithy.” She hefted Alderic higher up on her shoulders, wincing as his arm brushed against the bandaged mermaid-bite on her neck. Brandy circled her legs with an anxious whine, almost tripping her when she tried to move. “Brandy, no—stay with Rags. Yes, I know you’re worried about him, but ifyou don’t back off, you’re going to knock us both over. Nadia, hold him, will you?”
“Brandy, come here!” the little witch called. The bullmastiff limped over to her and she took hold of his collar, her brows furrowing when she saw the wounds on his flank. “He has stitches!”
“It’s been an exciting couple of days,” Lyssa said over her shoulder, already heading in the direction of the smithy. “All right, Al, try to actually use those shapely legs of yours, or I’m going to drop you in the dirt and leave you there.” Considering how comfortable he’d seemed in the ditch, it wasn’t much of a threat.
