Soren whoops from the center of the pool. “It’s cold,” he says, treading water.
“I know cold water,” I say. My bones haven’t quite thawed from being cast into the icy sea after I left New York City. “I think I can handle it.”
“Can you?” His lips quirk. “Then come on in,” he says, intentionally splashing me. “Wash all that dirt off.”
The sun slants toward the west, from where we came, and I strip off my outer coat, in desperate need of a bath. I shake out my inner layers, carefully setting the tapestry on the ground.
“Daylight isn’t going to wait for you,” Soren says, swimming with broad strokes around the pool. The ink doesn’t wash from his skin.
“Turn around,” I say, kicking off my boots and unfastening the top button on my pants.
He doesn’t. Mischief and desire light his eyes in equal measure.
I circle my hand in the air for him to turn and shoot a glare.
Reluctantly, he obeys.
When I slip into the spring, the water is a welcome caress. When I surface, Soren is close. His massive arms lined with ink, create eddies around us. Water ripples around his muscled chest. I glance away, my cheeks heating despite the cold water.
“Refreshing?” he asks.
“Invigorating, cleansing, and stronger than a shot of espresso…” I say.
I swim in circles and dive underwater several more times before we both scramble up the bank. I clutch my clothes to my chest, but notice Soren spares a long, curious glance. We hastily dress, back to back, hopping from foot to foot.
“I’ll race you to the woods,” I say with a shiver over my shoulder and then add, “To warm up.” Laughter splashes off, but when his thundering footfalls don’t match mine, I stop.
By the edge of the pool, Soren and a man with a short blade face off.
Chapter 14
Soren
The dip in the pool relaxed me, and I’d foolishly let down my guard. A man with a thick beard angles his blade toward my chest. Fortunately, I have both boots on, but my coat with its protection remains at my feet along with my blade and bow. My muscles tense as he glares at me.
“Hey,” I say, lifting my hands up in an attempt to demonstrate I don’t mean harm.
His dismissive grunt heats my blood.
Can we handle this peaceably? Not likely.
I will Kiki to remain safely away, but she rushes back toward us.
He brandishes the blade as though daring her to come closer.
“We’re not here to cause problems—” she calls, but it’s too late, the blade slashes across my middle, almost slicing my shirt. I dodge out of the way and the battle rage that my father taught me to summon consumes me. I sprawl on the ground and grab my blade before bouncing back to my feet.
Kiki has her blade drawn and her lips peel back as she lunges at the man, all attempts at greeting him or negotiating gone. He’s big, but she’s fast. Fast enough for me to get into position to ram him with my shoulder. He crashes to the ground, but I lose my footing on the damp bank of the pool, giving him enough time to get up and take a stab at Kiki. She strikes back, driving him toward the water.
“You don’t belong here,” he hisses.
“We were just leaving,” she says as they parry.
A younger man, wearing a dark fur coat, appears. He comes at me, and I draw my bow, halting him. His eyes narrow, suggesting an arrow is merely an inconvenience.
With one swift motion, I take aim. Bullseye. My intent is to disarm with a perfectly aimed arrow. The older guy’s blade sails through the air and toward the pool. Instead of distracting him with a rueful plop into the water, he doesn’t miss a beat and pounces on Kiki.
Flames of fury lick through me. I’m light on my feet as I land heavy, pulling him off.
She falls back, disappearing into a cluster of rush grass surrounding the pool.
I draw my bow, take aim again, and land the arrow in the younger man’s fur coat before turning it on the older guy, who lunges at me. I dodge, and he drops to the ground.
His son, presumably, gets to his feet, rips the arrow from his coat, and charges in my direction. I meet him with a fist to his jaw. He receives a swift swipe from my leg, and I kick his feet out from under him and then spring forward, driving my fist into his gut. He reels back, shakes his head, and then comes at me again. I deflect a blow to the shoulder, but he gets me with the other fist in my stomach.
I’ve had worse from the guards and their boots. I press forward and pound one in the nose while dropping my elbow into the other guy’s flank. He loses his footing and takes us both down. I manage to get the upper hand, as I scramble for my blade and hold him at knifepoint. Kiki and the younger one do battle with their blades, slipping and sliding along the edge of the pool. If she’s actually fae, now would be a good time for her to use her magic.
“We’re just leaving,” I say, panting.
“No, you’re not,” says the older one, exploding to standing and knocking me backward.
I slam down hard
