Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,55

off of her person, nearly blinding in its strength. I am asking what her abilities are. If you cannot give me this, I cannot give you a stone.”

Lazarus grit his teeth, his mind working. In the pocket of his trousers, the paper he had given Lorraine crinkled against the fabric. He reached inside and pulled it out. “I require a specific stone.” Lazarus strode forward and handed the paper to Thorne.

Unfolding the yellowed parchment with lowered brows, Thorne read the inscription. His eyes darted back up. “A Servalis stone? She must indeed be powerful if you need that.”

“Do you have one?” Lazarus didn’t let his gaze stray, but kept the other man locked.

Thorne nodded. “I do.”

“If you give it to me, I will tell you what she is.”

“Are my people at risk being near her, Lazarus?”

Lazarus finally turned his head, looking back at the warrior. “She is under my control. We have a contract,” he reminded him.

Thorne scrutinized Lazarus’ stance for a moment before exhaling with a heavy breath. “I’m not sure I would say that,” he muttered. “But, she, at least, is easier to read than you. I will give you the stone for an answer. She is similar in power to you. Rare, I assume.” Thorne narrowed his eyes, and Lazarus could see it then that he was wondering—if only for a brief moment—if she was the same as him.

No, he thought. And thank the gods for that.

Lazarus met Thorne’s red-eyed stare. “Quinn is rare,” he nodded. “She is a shadow in every man’s mind. A nightmare—a thought that follows you into old age—always present, always there, hanging in the periphery of your consciousness.” Thorne sat forward, curiosity urging him closer as Lazarus dropped his voice. In the barest of whispers, he told him. “She is a fear twister.”

Feast of Fools

“Uncontrolled emotions are the bane of a survivor. They show weakness. They show desire.”

— Quinn Darkova, former slave, fear twister, and vassal of House Fierté

“Gods above, I could live here,” Quinn groaned, settling into the warm water. Her back hit the rocky edge as she lounged, resting her head on the ledge.

“We’re here for business,” Lorraine remarked, a subtle rebuke but not an outright one. Given this was the first hot bath she’d had in years, Quinn didn’t particularly care. Even Lady Manners’ griping couldn’t ruin this for her.

“Whoever said you couldn’t mix business with pleasure?” Quinn asked, lowering herself deeper into the water and ducking under before Lorraine could reply. She ran her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp, while the scalding water nipped at her skin. Blissful.

A slender arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up.

Her head broke water and she coughed a little, looking every which way for why Lorraine was spluttering in dismay. “Are you alright?” she asked, touching Quinn’s head and turning it side to side. She pulled her to the ledge again, and Quinn let her.

“I’m fine,” Quinn frowned. There was no one here, only them. Not even the Cisean women would enter the hot springs as long as Quinn and Lorraine were using them. So she didn’t know what had the woman so concerned. “Lorraine?” she prompted, the older woman’s incessant fingers poking and prodding.

“You were under for several minutes. I thought you might have hit your head…” Her voice trailed off, suddenly unsure. Quinn’s lips parted, before the beginnings of a chuckle came that turned into an all-out roar. She was breathing hard and clutching her side when the laughter finally passed. Wiping her eyes, Quinn looked up at Lorraine who was not nearly as amused.

“I’m from N’skara,” Quinn said by way of answer. When Lorraine still didn’t get it, she continued. “We are raised on the water, Lorraine. Children are taught to hold their breath for minutes at a time from a young age.”

“Oh.” The older woman blinked, her lips parting. She glanced down at Quinn and then to her own naked body, as if the proximity had just occurred to her. She crossed her arms over her breasts and stepped back. The water swished to the side, echoing in the low cavern.

“It’s alright,” Quinn nodded. She grasped the edge of the hot spring and hauled herself out, basking in the warm steam of the spring, naked as the day she was born. “You didn’t know.” She reached up and pulled her hair to the side, wringing out the water.

“You’re very forward with your body,” Lorraine said, moving the conversation to safer waters instead of prying into her