Blood Warrior

“Thieves,” Kavya said without malice. Yet she knew their kind. A Sath would trade just about anything for a secret. “The Indranan would either learn the answers telepathically or kill each other trying.”

“I like that you can laugh at your own people, no matter how grim.” Tallis kissed the top of her head. “And the Pendray would tear the place apart in a child’s tantrum when they didn’t get their way.”

He put her down as they reached the building. The snow was cold against her feet, which remained barely covered by her shredded slippers. Her knees were unsteady after having been carried. She righted herself using the solid steel of Tallis’s upper arm. “And thus ends our attempt to cast the Five Clans in a game show.”

“We didn’t do very well.” He smoothed hair back from her temples. The wind took it, scattered it, and he smoothed it again.

“No, but everybody needs a hobby,” she said, returning to their first shared jest. “And we saved ourselves the embarrassment of looking like fools in front of potential investors.”

“We’ll save our skills at persuasion for getting a room at this inn. I’m not sleeping in a manger.”

“You’re going to be picky in this storm? I’d trade your seaxes for a chair next to the fire.”

“And then I’d trade you and the chair back for my weapons.”

They pushed in from the storm. What had been frigid and noisy became fireplace-warm and relatively quiet, filled with the soft chatter of two dozen voices. Kavya felt as if she’d been sucked into a vacuum. No screaming wind. No biting ice. She was standing on her own, but she didn’t let go of Tallis’s arm.

“Witchcraft,” he whispered. “Have at it.”

His expression was unexpectedly bright and teasing, with a dark pink flush across his features. He was half-sweating, half-covered in melting snow. His dark, silver-tipped hair was sprinkled with ice crystals that were quickly turning to gleaming droplets.

“On a small scale, maybe. Unless one of your hobbies means you’ve learned to pilot a Cessna off a short, slick runway that leads right over the Beas—you take off, or you drown—then I suggest we stay friendly with the locals. That means as little obvious manipulation as possible. I can’t force them to behave out of character, or someone will notice. The more they notice, the more foreign and threatening we’ll appear.”

“Wait, how do you know it’s not one of my hobbies?”

“This isn’t the time for sarcasm. We need a pilot. That means being fair to the innkeeper and getting recommendations.”

Tallis made a face that was complete slapstick. Scowling mouth. Deep frown. He looked like a child on the verge of a fit . . . until he grinned. “Very well. Play by the rules. You’ll be the first Indranan in the history of our race to do so.”

“Pig.” She slugged him on the shoulder, but his heavy coat protected him. So did his strength. Dragon be, his strength. He’d already recovered from carrying her down half of a very steep slope. “But that’s not to say persuasion isn’t in order.”

“How are you going to manage then?”

“I . . . I have a favor to ask.”

Wariness crept over his features. As well it should, she thought.

“What’s that?”

“We know I can’t read your mind. Maybe because you’ve been able to resist. I don’t know how. All I know is that an unwilling mind is harder to read. Can you try? Try to give me something from your thoughts?”

Tallis’s brow was furrowed again, with no playfulness this time. “Give you what?”

She inhaled. “Anything . . . interesting. Anything to distract the innkeeper and make him curious enough about what goes on between us to let us stay.”

She knew how she must look. Ruggedly used. Wind-whipped. Exhausted. Some blood still splattered her sari in gory, dark brown constellations. She was desperate, and she’d do what she needed to find them shelter, but part of her knew this was important. Had she spent two days with another Indranan, she would’ve known what to believe . . . to trust. Until they fulfilled their respective ambitions, she and Tallis were bound. She couldn’t decide whether to take comfort from that fact, or to steal a knife from the inn’s kitchen and keep her eyes open all night. Knowing what kind of man had carried her through a blizzard was as important as food and a soft, warm place to sleep.

“Show me what you see when you look at me,” she said. “Let me give him that.”

“Right now? I see a freeze-dried rat.”

“I mean, how you think of me in my best light. How you think of me when you imagine us upstairs.”

“Upstairs like that couple? Fucking? You want me to imagine you that way and just hand it over to you?”

Swallowing her embarrassment and anticipation, she swallowed tightly. “Yes.”

“I’ll try,” he said with a dark smile. “But I won’t be doing it to buy a little goodwill from a horny innkeeper. I’ll be doing it to seduce you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tallis knew there was a practical purpose behind her request. It made sense to gather as little notice as possible in a town that small. These people might never have met a Dragon King, which meant he and Kavya would walk as gods among mortals. In bigger cities with more jaded populations, their kind didn’t stand out so prominently.

They needed a room for the night. Tallis really didn’t want to search the storm for another. This place had the rustic charm of a pub back home, inviting in the sense that anyone could walk in, order a pint, and start a conversation about politics or sports on the telly. Conversations might turn to good-natured fights, but that was part of the appeal. A little roughhousing never hurt anyone, or else he and his brothers wouldn’t have escaped childhood.

He shuddered when he compared his upbringing with the actual terror Kavya must have experienced—or all of the Indranan, for that matter. No roughhousing. Life or death.

Beyond the practical, he was going to make Kavya work for access to his mind. Maybe it was possible if she focused hard enough while he made an effort to let her in. But he’d only just started to differentiate between the real Kavya and some dreamscape figment. He didn’t want to start losing track of the real woman while she rattled around in his thoughts doing Dragon knew what sort of damage.

Her expression said doing damage was the last thing she was considering. Dark, gently widened eyes stared at him as if he’d asked her to disrobe before curious patrons. Some had stopped talking to watch their interplay. But Tallis hadn’t asked her to disrobe. He’d told her the truth. She was the one who wanted to bare his innermost thoughts—fantasies, actually. So he’d give them to her. Any way he could manage.

“Imagine what you like,” she said at last. “If I can get a glimpse of anything, I can use it.”

“Use. That seems to be a common theme for you.”

“Do you think I like this? I’ve never used my gift to manipulate anyone for personal gain.”

“All for your altruism, I suppose.”

She stared up at him with eyes so luminous and pleading that Tallis’s heart jumped. “Yes. The idea of manipulating people for personal reasons . . . repulses me.”

Her shudder was strong enough to affect him physically, adding a touch of nausea to fantasies and strategy.

“And you’re not making it any easier,” she added. She glanced around, nose wrinkled like a rabbit scenting an approaching predator. “They think we’re making a scene. Is that what you want? Just do this, Tallis. We have your seaxes to barter, or we have whatever image you can conjure. Otherwise we’re back out in the snow.”

“And if you’re just as incapable now as before?”