“And I am going to bite so many bitches,” Gary said. “My teeth are flat, but I’ve been doing jaw exercises, and in case you can’t tell, they’ve been working wonders on my jawline.”
“I’m probably going to stab a few people,” Ryan admitted. “If we’re all saying stuff.”
“And yet you made me get carried like a damsel in distress while we ran,” I accused him, poking him in the chest. Which probably wasn’t one of my best ideas, seeing as he still had strawberries stuck to him. I shook my finger, trying to get it off me.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing my hand. “My job is to protect you. If I see a threat that looks bigger than us, you can bet I’m going to make sure you’re safe somehow.”
“You don’t get to have Tiggy throw me over his—”
“You did the same to me,” he said, sheathing his sword. “Back on the road before the corn cult. Remember? Those Dark wizards coming after us.”
“And the fire geckos,” Gary whispered.
“And the fire geckos,” Ryan agreed, arching an eyebrow. “You made Tiggy carry me away while you stayed behind and tried to play hero.”
“Well, yeah. But then, if you’ll remember, I did that whole lightning thing, and it was amazing. And what do you mean tried to play hero? Motherfucker, I was the hero.”
He rolled his eyes. “You made your choice then. I made my choice here. It’s what we do, Sam. We keep each other safe.”
Since I didn’t want him to know how much that warmed my heart, given that he was totally cheating by appealing to my sappy side, I scowled at him. “Lightning,” I insisted.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough lightning lately?” he asked, eyes trailing to my chest. I knew what he was trying to say, and my scowl deepened. Those scars weren’t my fault. I didn’t even know why they’d happened the way they did. It wasn’t like I’d ever done that before. And it was fucking Myrin. I didn’t have a choice.
So I opened my mouth to retort as one would in my position, but was cut off when a voice spoke from behind us.
“Oh look. They’re standing around, covered in I-don’t-know-what, arguing about something that probably has no relevance to our current situation. So, essentially as they always are. How wonderful that the fate of Verania is in the hands of… this.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I accidentally turned something into a penis. Then I turned around.
Standing in the doorway of the Tilted Cross were Morgan of Shadows and Randall. Morgan looked slightly amused. Randall, of course, did not.
“Randall,” I said. “How nice to see you today. Did you get a new hairstyle for your eyebrows? They look a little… bigger than usual.”
Morgan sighed.
“You think you’re smart, boy?” Randall asked me. “Because I do believe that I’m not above bringing you down a peg or two should the situation call for it.”
“Why, Randall. You old scoundrel. You’re shameless in the way you flirt. Buy me dinner first before you start calling me boy. But you should know that I don’t put out on the first—”
“Sam,” Morgan said.
“He started it.”
“And yet you continued it,” Morgan said lightly. “Standing there, looking like you all do.”
“I feel sticky,” I admitted.
“We look like the aftermath of a foodie gangbang,” Gary said morosely. “Except no one actually touched me in such a way to make me orgasm.”
“I can—”
“No, Kevin.”
“I was just—”
“Kevin.”
“Fine,” Kevin said. “I didn’t want to, anyway.”
“What happened here?” Ryan asked Morgan and Randall. “Why did these people attack us? Where are the Darks?”
Morgan and Randall exchanged a look, communicating something I couldn’t quite parse. When they turned back to us, I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer they gave.
“The… fruiting,” Morgan said, lips twitching, “was an unfortunately misguided attempt at protest by the group known as the We-Hate-Sam-A-Lots. As for the rest, well. Maybe you should come inside.”
Chapter 3: Reconciliation and Best Friends 5Eva
“GODSDAMN FUCKING Lady Tina DeSilva,” I muttered as I toweled off in one of the rooms in the Tilted Cross after a shower. “I’ll fuck her shit up, I promise you that. Trying to make me look like the bad guy? I’ll curse you so that your hair falls out, you odiferous bitch.”
Obviously my mood hadn’t risen at Morgan’s little pronouncement. And it certainly hadn’t helped when he’d pointedly separated Ryan and me into different rooms to clean up. I’d told him that in times of an uncertain economy, it was probably better that Ryan and I shower together to conserve water. Also, I reminded him, I was a high-value target, and what if I was assassinated while I showered all on my own?
Morgan had said that the economy was just fine and that the Tilted Cross was as safe as any other place in Meridian City, so I probably wouldn’t be assassinated. Which, leave it to Morgan to be so practical. That asshole.
I’d stared forlornly at the door that had closed behind Ryan, imagining the hot water running down his naked body, his hand running through the wet hair on his chest, his muscles bunching in his legs as he bent over to wash his feet—
Morgan had shoved me into the room across the hall, warning me to get in and get clean.
Which I’d done, obviously, even if it was against my will.
I was almost dried and sure I’d found the perfect way to get my revenge against Tina DeSilva (I’d turn her into a frog who constantly emitted pheromones that would attract predators to eat her!) when there was a brief knock on the door. Before I had a chance to cover myself, the door opened and closed just as quickly as a tall wisp of a man leaned against it, arms filled with what looked to be soft clothing.
His skin was almost colorless, his long yellow hair falling down around his shoulders. I was absolutely positive he was part elf (or even full-on elf), but neither he nor Mama would confirm it to me either way. What I really wanted to know was what he was doing outside the elven realm. Elves rarely left, and if they did, it was for a specific purpose.
Not that I’d tried very hard, obviously. Because this was Moishe. And Moishe had made it perfectly clear just how hard he’d like me to try anything with him.
Which explained the way he eyed me now.
Have you ever been eye-fucked by a possible elf before?
I have.
It wasn’t pleasant.
I fitted the towel around my waist and tied it off securely, refusing to blush under his watchful gaze. “Moishe,” I said evenly. “Typically, when someone knocks, they wait for permission to enter before doing so.”
“I suppose they typically do,” Moishe said, his voice light and lyrical, almost like he was singing every word. “However, when have you known me to do anything typical?”
I rolled my eyes, unsure how it was possible for him to make everything he talked about sound dirty, even if the words weren’t. “Okay. Fair. What do you want?”
“I’ve brought you clothing, seeing as how yours was… stained.”
“I had others in my pack.”