“True.”
“And now it is your turn to pay up, Captain Talac.”
His expression turning quizzical at the emphasis she put on his title and name.
“If that really is your name.” Oooh, she’d definitely hit a nerve, Talac’s expression had shifted to one of inscrutable bland interest. “Tell me.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I believe you to be a King’s man, but you’re not merely Captain of the Guard, you’re one of his notorious master spies, aren’t you?” The bland expression remained affixed to his face, but that twinkle was back in Talac’s eyes, as if her accusation amused him somehow.
Leaning forward also, lowering his voice to a mere whisper he responded. “The question you ask demands a truthful answer, given the terms of our agreement.” The edge of his lips quirking upwards suddenly in a wry almost smile. “Yes.”
Yes? Yes! She’d been right. The way he studied everything and everyone around him. The way he clung to the shadows. How he moved, spoke, and conversed with others and collected intelligence: carefully, polite, interested, but never overt or overly memorable. She’d totally guessed right.
“I am of course requesting you keep this information to yourself. Not just my life but others would be at risk if this were to get out.”
Alia nodded solemnly. She was a keeper of secrets, one more was no burden. “Why do-”
“Na-uh.” Talac waggled a finger in her face. “One personal question has been asked and answered. Our challenge is complete.”
What? She’d told him a long involved story of how the first Beast of Gloomenthrall came to be, and all she got in return was a one word response? Why, the tricky sneaky devil. Huh, she supposed those were also the requirements that made him such a good master spy.
Still, she’d known there would be a trap, some kind of catch, but it felt hollow to be proven right. More interesting was that twinkle that had sparked in his eyes following her query. She had the distinct feeling that Captain Talac, master spy of the Vallas Realm, was hiding even more secrets. Ones he was welcome to keep private, as long as he did her the same courtesy.
Except, she was forgetting the man was like a sunlion with a bone, she doubted his curiosity regarding her and the Lair had been sated by the story regarding its origins.
Darnation, she had a man living under her roof for the foreseeable future who made a living out of skulking in the shadows and ferreting out long hidden truths. What would be better, to keep him at a distance or close by her side where she could keep an eye on his comings and goings?
Close, definitely keep him close. Alia in no way prepared to examine the little flickers of heat that zinged through her blood at the idea of spending more time in Talac’s company. That was merely her instincts telling her that a hunt was in the offing. And she did love a good challenging hunt.
Problem was, this time Alia wasn’t sure who was the hunter and who was the prey.
Chapter Eleven
Brandth came out of a light doze in an instant. Someone was trying to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor probably the last. He waited for the assassin to lean in a little closer. Exploding into action, he blindly reached for them. Hell, this chamber was dark. Capturing the fiend by their weapon hand, locking onto their wrist, yanking hard, bringing the killer down to sprawl across his chest, bringing his other arm around to lock them in place.
The moment he moved Brandth’s world exploded. Pain stabbing at him, an encompassing angry swamping wave radiating from his lower leg, causing him to cry out even as the breath was snatched from his lungs in shock. His brain busy dealing with breathing through the pain, yet he wasn’t so numb that he wasn’t unaware the assassin was a woman. Her gasp of dismay his first clue, confirmed irrefutably by the press of soft full breasts against his chest.
He gave his cock stern orders to behave, he had bigger problems to deal with than a hungry libido. Then the all too familiar smell of her hit; vanilla, honey and jasmine. In a flash it all came back. The hunt. His injuries which led to his stay in the Lair infirmary. The blindfold protecting his eyes. And how that familiar smell meant he’d just attacked Perri, the healer assigned to look after him.
So, it was official, Brandth had somehow offended the Gods most heinously.
“You… oh…. What do you… think you are about?” Venom and outrage tinged the voice directed into his ear from a mere few inches away.
“I pray for mercy… please… don’t move… you can’t imagine the pain.”
Perri ceased struggling instantly, she took her oath to do no harm seriously. Though was still breathing hard, puffs of air hitting Brandth’s chin, and those full breasts pressing harder against him in a rather interesting rhythmic fast pace, reminding him all too vividly of the sexual act.
What a silly stray thought at this juncture in time. Especially when it involved the waspish strident Perri, of the soft hands and the no nonsense manner.
“I beg you fair lady for a moment… to recover myself.” The pain was slowly receding, now that they were both still as statues.
“You need to release me, Sir.”
“Just a minute or two more.”
“This is most irregular. We do not condone violence from our patients.”
Brandth felt hot colour flood his cheeks. “For that I must apologise… I thought… perhaps I was dreaming… that you were an assassin, come to kill me.”
“Assassin? I think perhaps more you thought I was some poor woman’s husband, come to seek vengeance on you for trespassing where you should not have been dallying.”
