Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,26
the fabric cling to her aching muscles.
“It’s time to go,” Lorraine said, stepping back, eyeing her warily.
Quinn scrubbed a hand down her face and nodded. Lorraine took another step towards the door and with a last look hurried into the hallway, leaving the door ajar. Quinn swung her legs over the side of the bed and rested her head in her hands.
It took several minutes to realize that black tendrils of fear were twining around her wrists like the girl’s shackles, moving and buzzing against her skin as if preparing for a feeding frenzy. Whatever that dream—that nightmare—had been, it had awakened something inside her. Something that would not go back to sleep.
Sweet Torments
“Not all pain was painful, just as not all torture was physical. Sometimes the real torment came wrapped in a package so delectable that its mere presence was sweet agony.”
Lazarus hadn’t slept well in years, but ever since he’d found Quinn, being awake was just as restless. The dark magic that lurked within her called to him, whispering the sweetest, most deadly of promises. The ride to Shallowyn had been its own form of torture, having her so close that he could touch, that he had to touch her—and yet so far because he wouldn’t do more than that. He refused to, though she fascinated him.
Quinn had her sanity. Mostly.
When emotions ran high, she had slips, much as he did. Hers were less controlled and they occurred more often, but they were not nearly as deadly as his own. At least, for the likes of him they weren’t. Not yet. He could manage her powers where they currently were. She was still young enough and coming into them that he had time before she reached her ascent into what she would be.
He could see it now as he stared out into the sun sinking below the horizon, the horse under him clomping over the uneven road.
She would be glorious when she reached her full potential, and Lazarus had every intention of being the one to guide her there. He planned to be the one to harness that dark fire he knew grew within her.
If only the growing need inside him would settle. The desire to fuck or to kill was becoming a tad … overwhelming. Taking out the assassins had taken the edge off, but after riding all day and night with his body pressed against her … he shook his head. Lazarus was right back where he started, with a buzzing awareness of her that he couldn’t seem to relieve himself of.
The damn girl—useful as she would be—was far too fascinating for her own good.
When people interested him, they either wound up dead or tied to his house for life.
Quinn had no desire to stay on and was inherently distrustful. She wasn’t naïve enough for her loyalty to be bought easily.
His fingers tightened around the reins, and the horse came to an abrupt stop.
“Everything alright?” Draeven asked him.
Lazarus looked to his left-hand man and closest friend as he said, “We should camp.”
Draeven nodded once, his sand colored hair turning gray as the light was extinguished from the sky. “Then we camp.”
They turned away from the trodden path and led their small entourage into the woods, going just far enough they wouldn’t be seen by anyone that might pass them by on the roads. Lazarus dismounted, ignoring the sharp wave of awareness that ran through him when Quinn slid off her horse and groaned loudly.
The sound stirred something in him, and he didn’t like it.
“Who is she?” Draeven asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
“No one,” Lazarus answered. He pulled his sleeping mat from the saddle. They had been in too much of a hurry when they left Shallowyn to bother with tents. The set up and takedown wouldn’t be worth it this time of year anyway. The burden of gear would just slow them down. A few weeks from now, when they were in the Cisean mountains and still heading north they might need more, but not now. Not when Quinn couldn’t even ride on her own.
“Alright, Lazarus,” Draeven sighed. “Then what is she?”
“A vassal,” he answered.
“You get a letter from an old man and stay in Dumas a month looking for this girl—who I’ve never seen before—and in the time you find her, you hear from Claudius and get attacked on the way home.” Draeven paused, the doubt he didn’t want to show evident. “I don’t like it.”