“Hello?” the old man, Rand, says, pulling me from my violent thoughts. I drag my gaze from Luc’s breakable fingers to Rand, who is now giving me an odd look, like he’s trying to decide if I’m a safety risk or not.Not to you, old man.
“What? Sorry.”
“What did they have you fight?” he asks.
“A manticore of some sort, maybe. I’m honestly not sure.” I’m about to elaborate, when I hear a female call Katya’s name. Katya spins around just as a pretty young woman flops down on the ground beside her and the two hug. Good gods, does she have to be friendly with everyone?
“Did you find your friend?” the girl asks.
Katya twists around and points to me. “Leina, this is Aemon; Aemon, this is Leina. She was at the arena with me.”
Leina examines me up and down, her eyes so wide they’re virtually popping out of her head. “Shouldn’t you be lying down somewhere, trying not to die?”
“I’m a fast healer.”
Her eyes narrow. She definitely doesn’t believe me, but keeps that to herself, thank the gods.
“You’re lucky to have survived,” Luc decides to pipe in, astounding us all with his staggering ability to state the obvious.
“Cutting off its head certainly helped.” I say the words flippantly, without any hint as to how much it pained me to kill that poor creature. I’ve killed before. Tortured men until they spilled their guts to me, both figuratively and literally. But those were spies and soldiers and politicians who’d probably ordered more deaths thanthey could count. Taking the life of an intelligent creature for some barbaric entertainment… that felt like murder.
I don’t know if this kid is trying to impress Katya or if he’s just really,reallystupid, but his dumbass turns to me and says, “Yeah, well, they only sent one after you. Next time, I doubt you’ll be so lucky.”
Katya and Leina shout his name, “Luc,” in the way a mother might when chastising a child. The old man just lays his head in his hand.
And this is why I hate people. That creature was trying to kill me to survive, but this guy’s just an asshole. Never mind the fact that I’ve thought the same myself; what really pisses me off is that he said it in front of Katya.
But I’m cool, collected. I simply lean forward, my elbows on my knees, so I’m almost close enough to touch his ugly face. “That may very well be true, Luc,” I say, emphasis onLuc. “But you lay another finger on my lady”—I jerk my chin toward Katya—“and you won’t live to see the day.”
“Aemon,” Katya warns.
Now, you’d think living in a place like this, a man would learn a little about self-preservation. Not Luc. Nope. Luc actually looks me dead in the face and scoffs. “Yeah, right.”
He doesn’t see me move.
In a flash, I’m on top of the boy, my knees holding his arms down, hand around his throat. He kicks his legs and bucks his hips futilely, while his face puffs up like a shiny red tomato. Behind me, Katya shouts my name and shoves at my shoulder. She’d have an easier time moving this mountain. Nobody else is even brave enough to try. I lean in so we’re nose tonose. “It would take nothing for me to kill you. I could snap your neck between one breath and the next, and you’d drop dead before you even knew what happened. But touch what’s mine again…” I flex my fingers around his throat. “And I’ll make it slow.”
“Aemon,” Katya shouts again, and this time, I let him go.
The boy scrambles backward, clutching his throat and crying softly. Good. I hope he has nightmares.
“Aemon,” Katya says for the third time.
“What?” I whirl around to look at her. I could almost laugh at how pissed she looks—not frightened, pissed. She’s positively glaring at me, her cheeks adorably flushed, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t show even the smallest hint of fear, and fuck, I love that about her. I love that she knows I would never harm her.
“Can we talk, please?” It’s a request, but really, it isn’t. Her eyes flick to the left, and I realize she’s looking at the group of people surrounding us, their mouths hanging open in shock. I smile and wave, and they all suddenly find something else to look at.
“Lead on,” I say, gesturing for her to go ahead.
She turns on her heel and heads back the way we came. I follow. She’s got her hands balled into fists at her sides and her steps are a tad bit heavier than necessary. We’ve only gone a few meters when she ducks behind an outcropping of stone and whirls on me. “What was that?”
I cross my arms, raise my chin and calmly reply, “That was me putting a jackass in his place.”
“Not that.”
I draw back. Now I’m confused. “Then what are you talking about?”
“You, with this archaic, I ‘belong to you’ garbage.”
