Book Teasers
Wild movements of longsword and dagger were made, reducing Jarrett to a retreating block; deflecting this way and that, waiting for just the right opening to take Kern down. The unexpected happened, however, when they approached the edge of the sparring ring. On what should have been one of Kern’s swiping uppercuts with his dagger, the man abruptly dropped it and swung his fist out. The action caught Jarrett off guard and struck him in the throat. Gasping for air, he reeled backward.
“Not so cocky now, are you?” Kern taunted, grabbing his dagger before charging once more.
Despite being winded and desperately trying to draw breath, Jarrett brought his shield up and let the man slam into it, pushing back against him. He would be damned if he let Kern win with a dirty move. Bracing himself, he threw his weight against the shield and sprung forward. He felt the impact vibrate through him as he thudded against the other guard. They skidded across the ground, barely keeping on their feet.
The butt of a blade was being pummeled against him over and over but he refused to give in. Letting out a cry of rage he summoned the last bit of his strength and flipped the man over, slamming him into the ground. He pinned him there with his shield, the pointed edges that met in the center pressing into Kern’s throat.
“Yield,” he snarled in a rough and rasping voice.
For a moment Kern struggled, tried to squirm free, tried to get his longsword and dagger twisted upright to harm the man atop him but it was quite obviously useless. At long last, he huffed: “Fine.”
“What were you doing before you became a guard?”
Of course, her questions would lead here. His brow pulled down at the memories that were stirred. “Running.”
“Running?” she repeated. He would give no further answer than that. “I’ll take a wild stab that means you’re not from here?” At Darcy’s shake of the head, she quirked her lips to the side and made a humming sound. “Hmm. What’s home then? Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.”
He had no past home. He wasn’t even sure he’d call this place a current one. It was a sanctuary. A safe harbor. He was not certain what a home would feel like. Something he did not expect filled those striking blue eyes. Understanding and sympathy. Why? Once more that damned question came forth: who was this woman?
“Master of the one-word answers,” she said it like it was something that should be marveled at. Like he wasn’t purposefully being short to avoid the details that would come with questions like hers.
“How long have you been a mercenary?” he reflected the question back to her.
She laughed. “A month and a half. Before that, I was a dock worker.”
“And before that?”
She stilled, the smile dropping ever so slightly, that light fading from her eyes. “Running.”
“So you don’t even know who this man is and you invited him to our game night?” Nyla asked as they divided up the pile of peanuts meant to be used for ante.
“I know he’s a guard,” Payton said defensively.
Nyla turned to Takara expectantly but the woman shot her an incredulous look. “You realize there are over a hundred guards in this city right? You want us to go through their descriptions one at a time until we luckily land on the right one?”
“Yes,” the redhead said excitedly.
“No,” Takara said firmly.
Now it was Payton’s turn to laugh.
“Ooh, I want to know the thing that is funny. Tell me the funny thing,” Atherly’s said like a chipper child as he entered the room.
“We were laughing at your hair. When was the last time you brushed it?” Payton tugged on it as though to pull something out. “I think there’s straw in it.”
He danced out of her reach. “That’s my hair color, you brat. But I have other things you can pull on if you like.” He wagged his brow at her suggestively only to stop when he got a good look at her. “Creators, what happened to you?”
“Ran myself repeatedly into Brisen’s fists on account of a job disagreement. Stop giving me that look, I’m fine.” Payton huffed when all three of them squinted at her as if to assess her for truth. “Really! If you don’t believe me, I’ll punch you and you can see I’m in tip-top shape.”
“I’m not sure that’s an accurate measuring stick,” Takara said wearily.
“Better than whatever Atherly would suggest,” Payton replied.
Atherly opened his mouth to object only to close it and nod in agreement. “Fair enough.”
She ran, skidding around the trunk of a pine tree. Taking a low hanging branch, she pulled it back, letting it free just as one of the two chasing her leapt. It struck the beast in the face, the branch’s twigs and sticks going halfway into its jaw. The thing was still alive but it would not be using its mouth any time soon.
The third, however, made it to her. For the second time that day, Payton hit the ground. The wind was knocked out of her as she crashed into the forest floor. Her lone dagger pushed at the snapping jaw, trying to drive it up into the soft part of the muzzle. But this one was smarter than the others. It jerked its head to the side and then slammed it into her, causing her to lose her grip, her dagger spinning out of reach. Her eyes widened in horror as those monstrous teeth descended toward her again. She did the only thing she could think of: she threw her arm up to block it.
Payton let out a cry of pain when it bit into the plate and leather of her bracer. She could feel the bones in her arm begin to break with the force. Feel her skin tear as the teeth punctured the leather. She slammed her fist into the side of the Cwn Annwn’s face. She would be damned if this creature broke her arm. She would be damned if this beast bit her arm off. She would be fucking damned if she died because of this stupid Beast Slayer garbage!
“Do I pass inspection?”
He blinked and then felt a blush creep across his cheeks. “I apologize.”
“What had you so captivated? Do I have a bug in my hair?” Her hand came up to feel the strands.
“N-no. I … you’re wearing your hair down.” It felt idiotic to comment on it.
“I lost my hair ties in the move. They’ll turn up eventually. Maybe I should cut it off. That’ll solve the problem. Chop it all off or shave my head.” He stared at her and she began laughing at his expression. “Don’t agree?”
“Long hair suits you.”
Her brows rose. “Really?”
“Are you seeking flattery?”
“Not intentionally. I was just… surprised. I didn’t think anyone cared about what I looked like. I mean, all I’m around for is to stab things with pointy things and to make people think I can conjure beasts with a snap of my fingers to slay them.”
He arched his brow at the last bit, trying not to laugh.
She waved her hand at him again. “You would not believe the rumors that are flying around thanks to Nyla and her stupid title for me. ‘Payton Clark, the Beast Slayer.’ I’m going to do something nasty to her one of these days.”
Now he did laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Payton could do unpleasant things if she wanted to. She was a deadly woman if she put her mind to it. It was more the idea of her putting that sort of intimidating behavior toward her friends. He could not picture it.
“Shut up,” she moaned while snickering. It was as though even she realized that she wasn’t going to do anything terrible to Nyla.
“I would have thought that with your new status, you would have had lots of compliments,” he said idly.
“Compliments from drunks and idiots. Those don’t count. They aren’t real. They don’t even know what they are saying half the time.”
“And that makes what they say less true?”
“‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven ‘cause you look like an angel.’ ‘Are you a beaver, because damn!’ ‘Your face makes other people ugly.’ ‘Am I a beast? Cause you slayed me.’” Payton listed quote after quote. “And those are just the nice ones.”
Jarrett choked on the wine he had been sipping. It took several coughs to clear his airway.
“See. They don’t count. They don’t mean anything. They aren’t true and they aren’t real.”
Jarrett lowered the bottle and studied her. “Long hair suits you, Payton,” he repeated slowly. He watched the way her eyes went wide. Watched how she held her breath at his words. “Perhaps you should wear it down more often. It becomes you.”
To his pleasure, a tinge of red began to creep across her cheeks. A challenging look entered those blue eyes and she shifted. Never breaking eye contact, she shook her head. The action made those wavy black locks move about her shoulders. Teasing him.
He leaned forward, a smile spreading across his lips. And there it was again. That inhale, a spark of something alight in her eyes that he did not know how to name. Why did he enjoy that?
“So…” He offered the newly opened bottle of wine to her. He waited until her fingers brushed his when she reached for it before continuing: “Which of us is the drunk and which is the idiot?”
She stared at him for a solid few seconds before she burst into laughter. “You ass!”
When the last fell, she stood above the body, staring down at it, breathing heavily. Then her gaze lifted to the crowd who had so readily turned on each other. “Shall I turn my blade on you lot as well? Have you thrown yourself in with them?” She pointed her dagger at the bleeding corpse at her feet.
People looked to each other, guilt and fear written in their expressions.
“You turned on your neighbors. On your friends. And for what?”
There was no answer. Just the whimpers of crying. The echo of screams about the city.
“For the chance they might have mercy? Take a look around. Templars don’t have mercy. Templars don’t care about you. They only care about their genocide.” She shook her head at them. “You all are cowards!”
“We aren’t like you, Beast Slayer. We can’t fight against this,” one daring woman managed to speak up.
“Why not? Because you’re afraid? Well guess what, so am I!” she shouted back. “I watched the Templars burn my home and murder my mother in front of me. Now they are here to take my home from me again. And you are going to let them. You are going to let them take the innocent among you because you’re too scared to do what’s right!”
“This isn’t our fight.”
“No?” Payton pressed her lips together. “When will it be your fight? When will you start giving a damn about the people being dragged off to be murdered? Maybe the Templars aren’t after you right now but that’s not a guarantee that it will stay that way forever. Maybe next time they won’t come for the mages. They’ll come for some other arbitrary reason. Redheads will be declared evil next and they’ll be dragged away. But they aren’t you, so you keep quiet. Then it will be brown-eyed people, must flush them out. They’ve done something wrong and now they’re gone too. It has nothing to do with you, right? It’s not your fight. Then, then comes the day they come for you. But there’s no one left to stand for you.”