I aim a jab at his gut with my elbow, and he grunts but doesn’t let go. Black spots are starting to flicker at the edge of my vision as I struggle to take in oxygen.
Something solid crashes into us both behind, sending us both sprawling. I land heavily on my shoulder and palm, feeling the burn as I slice my skin on a broken bit of floor tile.
I can just make out two figures grappling on the floor of the toilet. There’s a pained yell and the sound of panted breaths and thuds of flesh on flesh.
Somehow, I know exactly who it is.
Mag.
He’s used to breaking up bar fights, and it shows. He drags the guy off me as though he’s light as a puppy and not a grown man.
“I’ll deal with this,” he grunts. “You head home now, Reva.”
I feel like a coward as I scuttle back home. But I’m bruised and aching and seriously pissed off with myself.
Our house is dead quiet as I limp inside. I slump onto a chair at the kitchen table, with my head in my hands.
I don’t know how long I stay like that, but I must slip into a post-adrenaline haze as the next thing I know, I’m jumping wildly as someone bangs on the door.
It’s Mag, looking disheveled with a tear in his shirt, but otherwise none the worse for wear.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“I’m fine. A little shaken and feeling pretty stupid, but otherwise fine.” I swallow hard, hiding my shaking hands behind my back. “What happened to the guy?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone,” I repeat, considering the many possibilities that live in one word. “In what way is he gone?”
“He disappeared. Let’s hope he falls off the cliff in the dark.”
Something tells me I might not get that lucky.
Chapter 3
Reva
Ineed to run.
Just like the dozens of times before, my internal alarm bells are blaring, telling me I am not safe here. As my mother drilled into me as a pup, ignoring your instincts is how you end up with your skin nailed to a sorcerer’s wall after they’ve plucked out your eyeballs and turned them into soup.
And if that fishy fuck was willing to assault me over a few coins, that makes him a serious, unpredictable threat. So I have two choices: fight or flee.
The two instincts battle inside me as I pace from one end of the kitchen to the other, while Mag watches on. His expression only softens once Frannie steps out of her workshop, coming to a sharp halt when she catches sight of me and my panicked pacing.
“What’s going on?” She turns to Mag. “What has you charging in here with your blood pressure sky-high?”
“I’m an orc, Francesca. My kin are ancient warriors. We don’t have problems with our blood pressure.”
“Tell that to the pulsing vein in your forehead,” Frannie mutters. I fail to fully stifle my snort of amusement, earning me a glare from Mag.
“Just having a minor breakdown over here,” I explain with a frazzled smile. “How would you feel about going really, really far away from here and starting a whole new life?”
Her eyebrows quirk. “What are you talking about?” She strides closer, peering down at me with a furrowed brow. “Why are you having a breakdown after midnight on a Tuesday? What happened?”
I scrunch up my face and rub my grinding jaw with my bruised fingers before filling her in on all the details from my visit to the pub.
“So.” She levels me with a stern look and then speaks slowly as she lays it all out for me, “There’s a man who threatened to out you to the authorities and this entire village is full of pieces of shit who’d sell anyone if they suspected it’d earn them a coin or two, me and you included.” She prods the open hearth with a poker, sending sparks flying before she adds another log to the fire.
