His nose screwed up in distaste. It was weak and foolish… and made him feel funny inside.
Sighing, he slipped closer, ignoring her unhappy grumbling as he scooted up right against her closer than he ever had before as he drew the cape around both of them so that they were covered completely. Being much smaller, she fit beneath the protection of his shoulders perfectly as he wrapped an arm around her and froze at her unexpected softness. There was strength, but none of the hard, lean muscle that was common on females of his own species. That warm softness eased the tension from his body, and he curled tighter around her.
He wasn’t doing this to be kind… He absolutely was not.
ChapterFive
The drow elf’s insistence to remain by her side was bothersome. When they bedded down for the night, he even slept disturbingly close—if he even truly slept, Robyn couldn’t say for sure. However, she had to admit she appreciated that he shared the cloak so that she didn’t suffer as much chance of getting burned within their minimal shelter during the hottest part of the day. Still, it confused her.
She had made it clear to him that he could enjoy the distance he so clearly desired since he felt such disdain for her company and yet it seemed that he was determined to punish them both day and night. He certainly wasn’t good company; his unrelenting glower was enough to spoil the mood of even the most charitable heart after so many days. It was for that reason alone that when he decided to abandon her as they entered town, she felt a sense of relief that she normally wouldn’t associate with going into populated areas. A feeling that somehow still managed to persist when she stepped inside The Lucky Hound and hurried to the bar before anyone took note of someone slipping quietly inside.
Hunkered down in her seat, she let her long hair flow forward to conceal her features as much as possible, anxious without her cloak to conceal her, she was grateful that at least the tavern was comfortably cool. Though she had kept as much of her travel during the later hours as possible, burning ghostfire as they traveled through the dark until she felt too exhausted to go any further, the dim interior of the building soothed the burns from the late evening and early afternoon sun. The ointment she carried helped, but she looked forward to retiring to her room and having a bath after which she would have the luxury of treating them more thoroughly and enjoying a good night’s rest. As for the elf, hopefully he found a dark hole to rest in and she wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon.
If he did… well, she would part with the extra coin to get him a room so that she could enjoy at least one night since their meeting in peace.
The barkeep gave her a hard look as she took her seat at the counter, and Robyn dipped her head, her eyes fastening on the bar on which she rested her folded arms. Her fingers subtly curled inward toward her palm at the approach of his heavy footsteps.
“What’ll you have?”
She slid her coins across the counter. “A room and meal,” she murmured, chancing a brief look up at him.
His optic device slid over her with a whirl of red in the metal socket screwed firmly into his skull. Lost in the North Plains Wars with the orcs perhaps. Many men and women returned home with magical devices attached where once they had been sound and whole. With the gray hair on his jaw and chin, evidence of lasting thick muscle, and a heavy glower, she had no trouble picturing walking from the battlefield supported only by the point of a sword dug into the blood-soaked ground. As if to prove her right, a large mech hand slapped over the coins and dragged them across the counter before swiping them into his other hand waiting at the other side of the counter, where it quickly disappeared. He tipped his head to a server, who hustled up the stairs.
“That’ll get you a night and your meals,” he grumbled as he turned away to drag out a tall mug and slap it on the counter in front of her. “Will be a few minutes before its ready. Drinks are on the house while you wait.”
“Mead?” There was little hope that he might have something so pleasant in a territory that seemed to prefer their heavy lagers, but it was worth a try.
To surprise, he nodded and scooped her mug back up and carried it to a smaller barrel at the far end. A moment later, the cup was set in front of her again, the amber liquid sloshing slightly from the sides of the cup. Grunting at her mumbled thanks, his heavy steps, weighed down by who knows how much more metal, carried him away. Robyn didn’t bother to look up from the cup she dragged closer toward her. That the barkeep wasn’t making noise over her presence there was a blessing; she wouldn’t ruin it now by bringing attention her way.
Lifting the cup to her mouth, she took a long swig and nearly sighed with the cool, sweet essence of the mead running over her tongue as it washed away the lingering dryness from days on the road. She barely had time to savor the way it trickled down her throat when the door creaked, and the entire tavern fell silent. Her eyes drifted closed as she bit back a sigh.
Fuck.
There could only be one reason for a complete silence to have descended over a busy tavern. A tavern full of humans.Ashul. It seemed that she wasn’t going to be quite so lucky after all. Keeping her head bowed, she allowed her eyes to drift back open only to fasten them to her drink. With her back to the door and her black tunic and jerkin, she might have been able to blend in entirely with the shadows if not for the length of her white hair. She hadn’t a chance of going unnoticed by the elf, but that didn’t stop her from silently praying to Marquoras, the lord of death and the midnight hour, that the elf wouldn’t see her.
It was a pointless prayer, one that the dark lord was sure to ignore. She knew from their days on the road that Ashul’s eyes were keen, seeing effortlessly in the dark without the aid of her ghostfire. Though she didn’t look, she was certain that his eyes would be glowing with the same pale amethyst light that they possessed when traveling through the darkest hours of the night.
Footsteps sounded on the floor, and those seated at the bar near her suddenly cleared away, carrying their drinks as they departed to find other seats in the tavern. A cool scent wrapped around her that reminded of her night-blooming jasmine and the faint earthy scent of wet stone. She didn’t look over at him, not even when the chair beside her was pulled out and Ashul settled into it.
She took another swallow of her mead and pretended that she couldn’t feel the weight of the barkeep’s glower on them or hear the whispers stirring behind them. Instead, she glanced over to the barkeep and raised two fingers. His scowl dipped further, but he nodded and snatched up another tall mug that he carried toward the smaller cask containing the mead as the elf shifted his chair closer to her.
“Not even a greeting for me,necromancer?” Ashul hissed. She could feel him leaning menacingly over her, his head dropping down close to her ear. Despite her protections, she trembled at having his sharp teeth so close to her skin even though the closeness of his lips to her ear insured that his words did not carry beyond her. “Very rude, consideringIhave come with a gift for you.”
She cast a suspicious glance toward the drow as the second mug was plunked without ceremony in front of him. He gave the contents a pained look, his lips tightening with a grimace. Shifting the bundle he carried to one hand, he dipped a long claw into the liquid and brought a drop to his tongue. Robyn jumped as his tongue snaked out at an inhuman length to swipe over the claw. A soft hum rose in his chest, and his violet eyes blinked down at it in surprise.
“Mead! Not as sweet or flavorful as that brewed by the elven races, but better than the other swill stinking this place up,” he remarked, dragging his cup toward him.
“You said you had a gift,” Robyn reminded him, uncertain if she wanted it or not. Still, it was better to just get it over with.
An unpleasant grin stretched across his face. “That I did. Well, it is perhaps more a gift for me, since I decided I had to do something to spare my eyes.” He gestured to her with an exaggerated shudder that had her narrowing her eyes. “But I am certain that you will find it equally suitable. It is quite…pretty.”
“That remains to be seen,” she interrupted. “Maybe if you just give it to me, we can determine whether or not you are right.”
A sneer curled his too-perfect lips. “Of course I am. I would not waste my time making the effort for anything less than the best.”
His arm holding the bundle snapped up, unfurling a long length of material that dropped over her head like a shroud. She jerked in surprise, nearly falling from her stool when a strong arm caught her and flung her forward, back toward the counter to which she clung as she dragged the material away from over her eyes to glare over at the sneering elf.
“There, that is much better,” he remarked as he lifted his mug and raised it to her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light like a cat. “A well-made cloak is far more favorable to the eyes.”