Amma whined in that charming way of hers. “Those aren’t very good details, Damien.”
He chuckled. “There’s very little else to tell. I was evil, she was evil, and for a little while we were evil together until her hostility was turned on me in a way that was no longer arousing. I wanted out, and she did not.”
“You broke her heart?” Amma gasped as if offended on the woman’s behalf. If she had any idea, she would have known it was not deserved.
“Impossible—the nox-touched don’t have those. And she was not sad, she was angry. Angry enough to try and kill me, so I probably made the right choice. Anyway, it all went terribly, as expected.”
“Aw, but areyousad about it? About losing your one, true love?”
“She wasnotthat. And I told you, demons don’t feel those things. Only the vile and loathsome are drawn to my aura.”
“Are you kidding?” She almost missed the table this time, putting the tankard back down with a thunk and grabbing onto his shoulder to shake him. “When you’re not being a grouch, you’re very charming, and you’ve got this whole dangerous, dark thing going on. You could probably just walk up to anybody in here and get them to go up to your room with you.”
Damien’s mouth went dry, and he focused on his half-empty flagon and not the way her fingers dug into his arm. “Sounds like too much work.”
She tried to roll her eyes, but with her coordination so off, she just managed a weird blink. Bringing her face even closer to his, she dropped her voice a little lower. “Too much work to wink at somebody? Because that’s all you’d probably have to do, you know. You’re a lot more handsome than you think. I know you’re self-conscious about that scar, but you shouldn’t be, your face is great, and the scar is actually kinda…” She made a sort of groaning giggle then, eyes closing.
“You think my disfigurement is attractive?” He chuckled at how ridiculous she was being—easier than allowing her to rile him up too much.
“Well, yeah, duh, it makes you mysterious and scary, butgoodscary, ya know? Makes you wonder, like,how’d he get that? Andwhat’s he gonna do to me once he gets me tied up? And also, I can tell under that armor you’re all muscle.” She actually tugged at the collar of his tunic then, and he was too surprised to stop her from trying to get a peek. Instead, he just grinned, and when she looked back up at his face, she giggled madly. “Oh, and Damien, you have such a nice smile. You should do that more. It just makes me want to—” She hiccupped, and it was like someone had clamped a hand over her mouth, stopping her halfway through a thought she didn’t mean to say out loud.
He watched her contemplate what seemed like her whole existence as she pulled her hands back to herself and stared down at the table. It was his turn to lean in, voice low. “Why would I bother with seducing someone when I can just command them into my bed with a little magic?”
Amma’s eyes widened, then she glared at him. “Because that would be really evil.”
He pressed his lips just to her ear. “What have I been telling you I am all this time, Amma?”
He could feel her body stiffen beside him, but she didn’t shift away. She held her breath, and there was a jump in her throat as her heartbeat hitched. And then Amma scoffed, sticking out her tongue and blowing. “Oh, please.”
Damien sat back, admonished, wiping her spittle from his face with a laugh. “Well, what about you?”
“Me?”
“If you want me to be so candid, I think some reciprocation is in order. Regale me with tales of the hearts you’ve broken.”
Amma’s face went even redder than it already was, and she eyed his half-filled flagon. Grabbing it much quicker and better coordinated than anything else she’d done since her first ale, she downed it.
“Amma, stop that, you’ll be ill.” Damien grabbed it back but only retrieved an empty tankard.
“I don’t think I’ve ever broken anybody’s heart.” She sighed, sitting her chin on her palm, or at least trying before slipping off and nearly smacking into the table. “Well, maybe once, but that was years ago, and he got over it and married somebody else. And now, well, I guess, you and I are kinda the same. I can’t really be in love with anybody either, and I certainly can’t convince someone to fall in love with me that doesn’t want to—believe me, I’ve tried, and it just does not work. But if I could?” She grinned wide, staring out at the tavern, then closed her eyes and sat back again with a long, yearning sigh.
Damien gazed at her as she sat with her head back, perhaps daydreaming or actually dreaming, knocked out from the ale. Even in the shadows, her hair found the candlelight to shimmer softly when she moved with full, deep breaths, and though there was a certain melancholy to her words, she managed a wistful smile. He couldn’t believe it, not for a moment, even when she said it herself, that there was a single soul in the realm that she couldn’t convince to fall in utter and unconditional love with her. Then she hiccupped again and sat up straight, roused from wherever her mind had gone.
“Come on,” he said, pushing his empty tankard and any of his own, maudlin thoughts away. “You need to be taken to bed before you can get your hands on anyone else’s ale.”
“Oh, yes, take me to bed, Master Bloodthorne.” She was giggling again and grabbed his arm, squeezing it against her so that it pressed between her breasts.
He froze under her touch.Whydid she need to saythatandnow? Reluctant to pull away yet knowing he should, he allowed her to hang on as he stood. She followed, needing the extra balance to ascend the stairs anyway. He could have just picked her up, but she was determined enough, and, really, she didn’t seem to need any extra attention—she was already holding him too tightly, leaning her head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm—for balance, of course, he reminded himself with every step upward and every soft caress of her hand.
With the door closed inside her small chamber upstairs, the sounds of the tavern were all blocked out. There was a slight draft through the window, cracked open at the back of the room. Damien sat Amma on the bed and escaped her grip to go shut it, surprised at how it had to be yanked. He struggled to close the pane completely, finally securing the inner lock, and tested it for safety.
When he turned back, Amma had stripped off her boots, tunic, and breeches, too quick with her hands like always, even drunk. She was sitting on the edge of the cot in just the short chemise she wore under her clothes, and he wondered if she had so quickly forgotten in her drunken state that he was still there. He held very still, unsure what to do.
“Damien,” she said, clearing that question up as she stood, wobbling. The chemise only hit her mid thigh, and would have been sheer in a room lit by more than just moonlight, but there was more than enough of her bare skin on display to both satisfy him and not. “You remember when you got all mad at me for trying to steal from you?” She went to take a step toward him and tripped right over her own feet, falling forward.
Damien rushed to her side, catching her. “You are very drunk, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She was giggling again, face rosy, slapping him on the shoulder with no real force. He guided her back down to the cot, but she wouldn’t let go this time, pulling him to sit beside her. “But you remember?”
