sound stern, but his amusement seeped through. He'd never had this much fun teasing a woman. "I think we picked the wrong name for you. I think I should call you Prudence."
Do it and your private Happy will receive a proper introduction to my knee.
A rich, husky laugh escaped him. "Ah, Pru, we've got to loosen you up a bit. Show you the advantages of being wicked. I'll add that to my 'To Do' list."
Yes, well, you can be here in two days, she said, changing the subject. "Two days?" He so did not want to endure another two days in this hellhole. Just go around the far hill, past the sheep farm -
"Over the river and through the woods, then down the yellow brick road. I know." He exhaled. "One thing at a time, babe. One thing at a time." Maybe two days wasn't such a bad thing. It would give him a chance to rest up, rebuild his strength. "I'm still needing that hot meal, bath, and soft bed."
Oh, yes. of course. The sheep farm has everything you need.
Three hours later, the darkness waned and Gray reached the farm. He performed a perimeter check and discovered the owner asleep in his bed. The man/thing possessed the top half of a human, and the bottom half of a chestnut horse, complete with tail and hooves. Dear God.
Don't hurt him, please.
Silently Gray withdrew a tranq-filled gun from his backpack and with a quick shot to the horse-man's neck, injected him. The creature jerked, then stilled completely. This was the only tranquilizer Gray had brought, and he hated to use it now. At this point, however, he would have injected his own father if it meant eating a hot meal without interruption.
When Gray was assured the creature wouldn't awaken for hours yet, he strode into the kitchen and dropped his backpack on the freshly polished wood floor. The place reminded him of a country cottage, complete with straw beds, wood-burning stove, and fresh, home-cooked scents.
He filled a clay basin with water, stripped to the skin, and washed himself from head to toe, taking care around his wounds. He slathered those with antibiotic ointment before slapping bandages over them.
Be gentler, please. You're making me cringe. He arched a brow. "Can you see me?" Only through your eyes.
How prim she sounded, he thought, smiling, just before he looked down. She gasped.
He chuckled. "I think General Happy likes you." Yes, well... I thought his - its - name was private.
"He seems to be the one in command lately, so he's come up in the ranks. Got a nice promotion." His throat clenched as he fought to contain his guffaws of laughter. "Wishing I'd look down again?"
She remained silent, and his smile grew.
Clean at last, he redressed in his mud-caked fatigues. He hated wearing dirty clothes, especially now that he was clean, but he wouldn't leave them behind. After he devoured a bowl of fruit and nuts and a plate of some sort of meat pie, he pilfered a royal blue robe and a yellow toga from the creature's closet. He
slipped the first over his head and shoved the second in his bag.
"Why do centaurs wear robes?"
They don't. The clothing is for visiting sirens.
Sirens. Women who lured men to their deaths by singing. Of course. He should have known. You, can sleep here. The centaur will not mind.
"I prefer to find a spot in the woods." Solitude was always safer. A long length of rope caught his eye, and Gray stuffed it into his backpack. "He wouldn't happen to have bullets lying around, would he?"
No. No bullets.
"It was worth a shot." He hiked his way back to the cobbled path, feeling more energized than he had in days. Darkness had faded even more, making way for a bright golden glow. Flowers opened their petals, carpeting the ground with all shades of pastels, from the barest lavender, to the daintiest yellow. Trees swayed with renewed life.
He spied several similarly robed people, their faces covered by their cloaks. Again, his first instinct was to whip out his knife and strike.
The sirens are as harmless as the nymph. Simply block their voices from your mind,.
Gray strode past the small group, and his gaze met a woman's gaze. She was pretty in a delicate, protect-me way, with pale skin and mossy green eyes. Despite her prettiness, he felt not a shred of attraction toward her. She opened her mouth, about to speak to him, and he quickened his speed,