Yeah, except things are getting interested that shouldn’t get interested.
Centaur clothing involved the breastplate over the human chest, but also a heavy blanket that strapped onto and draped over the equine part. I had thought I’d seen something dangling, but wasn’t exactly prepared to scope him out.
Matt apparently didn’t have that reticence.
You smell too damned good,he complained.
Well, it isn’t his fault, and you know it. So cut it out.
“What did you have in mind?” Emmanuel rumbled as his eyes scanned me.
“Arm protection is paramount,” Aria said. “She needs mobility, so nothing too heavy.”
I looked down to Trix. “Would you have body armor for her too?”
His eyes dropped to my dog. “I might have something that would work for her. I outfit the Briant attack Vroskers. The pup versions would fit, I think.”
I bent down to pet Trix, and he went very still. When I looked up, he was staring at my sword.
“Where,” he said, “did you get that?”
His tone had gone cold as the arctic in winter, and Matt stiffened beside me.
I sensed that honesty was essential. “I’m looking after it for a friend.” When the dark eyes moved to mine, and I saw hostility within them, I added, “His name is Talakai.”
“He’s a friend?”
Aria moved forward. “If all goes according to plan, he’s her future mate.”
That was more information than I would have offered, and the Centaur’s eyes shifted now to Matt.
“So is he,” she said.
His heavy brows twitched. “Is Talakai okay?”
“As far as we know,” Matt interjected. “But he gave her the sword to look after, and she’s damned good with it too.”
“She really is,” Mari added.
One brow elevated at the growl that ran through Matt’s words, and the determination in Mari’s, but the Centaur stroked his chin with his thick fingers. “I owe Talakai,” he finally rumbled. “For his future mate, I have something special.”
He turned away and opened a solid door into a chamber. The shadows beyond swallowed him up.
“That’s one impressive bloke,” Matt admitted. “And our scaly bludger seems to get around.”
“Emmanuel is an old friend of my mentors,” Aria confessed. “He was a merc before he focused on making armor. Ademonof a merc. No one could stand against him, and he was in demand as a trainer among the wealthy. He’s also the best armorer I know.”
The Centaur emerged from the darkness with two armloads. He set one down on the counter—a pile of dark, glistening cloth. My eyes drifted to his own breastplate and realized it was the same—chain mail?
“Black Wyvern hide,” Aria breathed. “I thought that’s what you were wearing. Where did you get it?”
“Volcanic eruption in Zaltik wiped out an entire hive. I was the only one with knives capable of handling the job. Made this from it.” He gestured to his breastplate. “I don’t have enough left to clothe anyone sizable, but for you...” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket and advanced on me.
The Centaur moved around me with surprising grace for a creature so huge. I could well imagine he would be hell on a battlefield. As he worked, he talked.
“Wyvern hide is virtually impenetrable by most underworld weapons,” he stated. “It deflects everything from swords and knives to many projectiles, unless they are shot at point-blank range.”
Matt moved aside for Emmanuel, but grudgingly. At one point, the Centaur straightened and addressed him.
