* * *
We continued down the dusty paths for quite some time. I’d heard of the desert but never imagined I would see it. It was tedious in its dust and sand and never anywhere I would want to settle.
Although, I was enraptured as we passed by the orange canyon walls. Pictures moved on the rock walls, depicting people shooting arrows, dancing, giving birth, and many different scenes.
The beauty of it had me forgetting many of my problems. The pictures looked real enough that I would have believed they were happening if not for the too vivid colors and the scenes dissipating when another one took over.
“What is this?” I asked Weston when a dancing scene disappeared into a woman giving birth, sweat trickling down her face as her moan of pain hit my ears.
“A picture appears on the wall when a member of the tribe dies. How they died is what they are doing on the wall.”
“How do you die dancing?” I asked with wide eyes. Now I had to worry about dancing, too?
That damn old fortune teller.
Weston gave me a sideways glance, and the thought that he could read my mind annihilated all my other thoughts. How was I going to have any privacy? I thought about just telling him everything in my head. Shouldn’t he know everything, anyway? What if he didn’t? What would he do with the information? A series of questions that were essential to my decision flooded my mind. A series of questions that I was worried he was hearing.
I remembered how he had saved the boy in the tavern, but I had seen a different side of him. One I couldn’t trust. At least with the truth about the magic; my life was practically in his hands.
Unfortunately.
“I only saved the boy because you were clearly going to make a scene, and trust me, you would have been the entertainment for the rest of the night if you did,” he said.
It took me a moment to realize that he took that from my head. “So you saved me twice then?” If he was so bad, why would he save me?
“Three times,” he said flatly.
I scoffed. “I don’t count what happened back there. You put me in that situation. If you are so cruel, why save me?”
“I’m not a voyeur, especially to rape. Which would’ve happened to you in the tavern. You would have been screaming and thoroughly ruining any quiet in the place.”
My stomach rolled, and I looked at him with distaste. I didn’t know this man at all.
“And you never will,” he replied dryly, taking more from my head. This was going to be very inconvenient. He could read my mind, and I didn’t know anything about him, besides the fact that he had no conscience. It was far from fair, and I wanted to level the playing field.
“How can you read my mind?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you that after you tell me what the hell you are.”
I scowled. “First off, who. I’m a human being, not a what. And second, how do you not know that already? You can read my mind.”
“I would rather endure a fortnight of torture than listen to your simple-minded thoughts all day.”
There! He admitted it. I smiled at the small battle won, and then my smile fell when I realized his insult.
“Hey! My thoughts aren’t simple-minded. I would hate to be in your head.”
“Yea? Why’s that?”
“I can only imagine what’s in there. Something like Kill. Smash. Kill.”
He actually laughed. A deep laugh that I could feel flutter around in my stomach; his voice did strange things to me. Gallant nearly stopped as I unconsciously pulled on his reins while I watched Weston with wide eyes. Who knew he had a carefree side to him? A strange revelation.
I felt breathless as his eyes flickered with something dark, and a sly smile formed on his lips. He dragged his gaze down my body, and I could feel the heat from it linger on my bare skin. I shivered from the onslaught.
“You forgot one thing,” he said roughly.
My heart fluttered out of control. I wasn’t a stupid girl. I might have been inexperienced with men, but only because I chose to be. This was flirting, and my entire body flushed while I became aware of it.