An impatient growl met her explanation. “Why bother? Necromancers can influence weak, unguarded minds, or any at all as long as their will is stronger—a useful talent from what I have seen. The drinking hole is filled with minds and pockets just waiting to be preyed upon.”
She cast him an impatient look as she avoided a large puddle in the middle of the cobbled road. “That is your answer? You would have me prey on that young man you had your eye on?”
His grin widened unabashedly. “Why not? I planned to.”
“Spare me from any further confidences. I don’t even want to know what you were planning,” she muttered, to which he laughed and sidled closer.
“There is nothing wrong with enjoying the game while you wait to get what you are really after.”
“And just what would you really be after then?” she challenged.
“His horse,” the elf replied without missing a beat, a spark lighting within his eyes. “I have no desire to walk the rest of the way to our destination.”
She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “And just how would you manage that? I did not even see him with a horse.”
Ashul’s sly smile widened, sending goosebumps over her arm. “To answer your first question, one who has excessively indulged seldom notices when their property walks off without them. I prefer to slit their throat and be done with it, but I have been known to be generous a time or two. As to the second, I could smell it on him. No doubt the animal is stabled behind the tavern, there,” he observed with a tip of his head toward the rickety stable that ran down the length of the tavern. “It would be a simple matter of taking anything else we might wish.”
The suggestion sent a faint sense of unease through her at just how casual he was with the lives of others. As a necromancer, her life seemed to touch on death so much that she had to consciously work at not being too cavalier with such matters. Clearly Ashul did not have similar views. His thoughts about others who stood between him and what he wanted were dangerous. It didn’t surprise her that he had no qualms about suggesting that she use her power to remove one’s will and make them a living puppet.
She would never use her mind manipulation more forcibly on another unless it was a matter of threat to her own life and to spare the innocent. Not only did she find it exhausting to battle through the mental barriers, but diving into another mind always left her feeling distinctly unclean afterward.
Robyn gave him a sharp look. “I don’t think so.”
His brow dipped in a glower. “So much kindness for those who would not hesitate to drag a knife across your throat if given the opportunity,” he hissed.
She tilted her chin and met his glittering gaze. “There are always those who might try, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to agree to such a thing.”
“And if I do so without your consent?” A chilling darkness descended over his features, and suddenly she was reminded of the deadly being beneath his inhuman beauty that she had witnessed at their meeting.
She blinked up at him and gave him her sweetest, most scathing smile as she reached up and patted him lightly on the cheek. It was barely a brush of a tap before his hand snapped up and caught hers. “Do not make me command you to my side,drow. You will not enjoy the shorter leash, I assure you.”
“Neither will you,necromancer,” he bit out. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “How I hate you. Very well, as you wish,” he gritted out in acquiescence. “I assume that we will be leaving this place then.”
“We leave at sunset before you have an opportunity to contrive any other mischief.”
He lifted an eyebrow, a humorless smirk curling his lips. “Excellent. Shall we return then to where we will be more comfortable and out of this accursed sun?”
She shook her head, her lips thinning as she pulled her hand free and continued to trudge down the road. “Nice try. There are hours yet ahead of us. Plenty of time to draw in clients.”
His hand caught her arm, drawing her up short as he spun her around, his violet eyes glittering down at her as dark shadows moved over them. “You would waste my time with something so… paltry? It is offensive!”
She glared up at him in turn and yanked her arm free, though she knew that it was more because he released her. It was hard to mistake with the way his lip curled in disgust—as if he couldn’t get his hands off her quick enough once he became aware that he was touching her. That it was somewhat delayed and almost an afterthought amused her despite her irritation.
“This is the one thing that I find pleasure in as a necromancer. Sure, there’s some unpleasantness that can come with it, but the opportunity to connect people to those who have gone down the hidden road makes all of this,” she gestured sharply to the mark on her brow, “worth it.”
His expression lightened a degree, and he shook his head. “I do not understand how you cannot revel in your power. Among my kind, such mages were admired as much as they were feared by those less powerful. You could have this whole town by the throat if you so willed it. You could raise the skeletons and corpses from the ground to tear this all down merely by your whim. You could be a conqueror.”
“Like you?”
“Why not?” he snarled in reply. “I took everything I wanted, stood against the impossible, and claimed my fate with my own hands and slayed all who opposed me. I had the power to rise above all of that and I did not hesitate.”
“And look what that got you! A sword run through the gullet,” she reminded him.
His expression darkened further, but he inclined his head. “It did. But for a moment I knew the triumph of bringing down the one who called herself my mistress and queen and kept me as a pet for her pleasure.” He hissed again between his teeth, his eyes narrowing as they pierced her. “You understand nothing. Drow males are good for nothing but building, fighting, and fucking. We are owned by our females completely. My mother sold me to an ally the moment I came of age with no further thought given to me. The one I killed was one who rejoiced in my pain and degradation. I brought her down, and her entire house. I was victorious, though I was betrayed. I do not regret it.”
She stared up at him in shock. She had heard that drow elves were matriarchal, but she had never thought much about it. Never would she have assumed it would be that terrible of an existence. She had imagined that it would be better… fairer. Something.
The pain in his bitter and crude words caused something within her to soften with comprehension. He angrily embraced his power fully and liberated himself despite the terrible odds against him and in defiance of the expectations of the world around him. He did not hate the power he took up and harnessed. Though it had brought hatred down upon him, he celebrated it. Though he was cruel and violent, and seemed to possess no softer feelings to others, that alone was admittedly admirable.