Steely fingers wrapped around her flailing arm and dragged her in through the window.
Chapter Fifteen
“You little fool. Develop a fear of heights.”
The words were hot in Calya’s ear. Never before had she been so glad to hear Lowe’s growling voice.
Relief and shock blurred together as the reality of her narrow escape took hold. A good thing he had an arm wrapped around her to keep her held against his chest, because her legs shook, threatening to give out. She’d be in danger of tumbling back out the window if not for his grip.
She nearly did, startling when Brint threw open his other window with a crash. On this side of the inn, unless she’d grown wings and managed to spirit herself safely out of view, a simple glance left and Brint would’ve seen her. Caught her mid-escape—if she hadn’t splattered herself across the ground first.
Lowe swept his hand to the side, golden light spiraling up from his fingers before winking out. The wind howled, sending a torrent of rain to lash the building.
Over the roaring weather, Calya heard Brint’s muffled cry, followed by the dull thump of the window swinging back to hit him. The sound of his cursing faded before cutting off altogether as his window was pulled shut.
Carefully, Lowe eased their own window shut with one hand, the other still holding Calya close. Only after they’d retreated farther into the room and Calya was stable on her own feet did he release her.
“You couldn’t just wave your hands to magic me down?” Her voice wavered as she teetered on the edge of hysterics.
“I don’t have the gift of flight.” Despite his dry tone, his shaky exhale suggested Calya wasn’t the only one grappling with a sudden spike of adrenaline.
“How did you…” She gestured at everything, as if the broad motion could make meaning of the myriad half-finished thoughts swirling in her head.
A faint smile was briefly visible before Lowe ran a hand over his face. “Luck. He left the main room in a hurry, and I couldn’t go after him for any plausible reason. I went outside to try and warn you when I saw this woman with a death wish traipsing about on the roof in the middle of a fucking storm.”
“Not traipsing. Escaping hastily and with no plan.”
“Fortunate for us, then, that this room is vacant. Can’t say the same for the trellis outside. Remind me to settle up with Froley later.”
“I’ve a key to return, too.” Calya held up the master key.
She shivered, the chill of her damp clothes making itself known now that there was no fear of impending doom to serve as distraction. She had to clamp her fingers around the key to keep from dropping it.
In the hallway, footsteps from the direction of Brint’s room thumped past. Lowe pulled Calya to him again, retreating to the wall on light feet. They waited, breaths held, until the sound of Brint’s passing faded and he didn’t immediately return.
“He’s probably gone to look for me,” Calya whispered.
“Then we should keep you where you can’t be found.”
Though his gaze was pointed straight ahead, Lowe must have felt the arch of her brow. The corner of his mouth twitched. He ushered her quietly to the door, peeking out to make sure the hall remained clear. They took the narrow servants’ stairway down to Lowe’s room on the main floor, located at the rear of the building.
His was a modestly sized room, the furnishings a single bed and small desk. Nothing as lavish as Brint’s suite, but there was a small hearth, an orange glow visible through the front vent. A low stool was placed next to it, with a blanket folded neatly on top.
Though the impulse to pitch face first into the warm air was strong, Calya held herself in check. “Careful, ranger, or I’m going to start thinking you’re a gentleman after all.”
“I can disabuse you of that notion,” he murmured in her ear. Plucking the master key from her fingers, he gave her a gentle nudge toward the fire. “Think on it while I return this to Froley.”
Her mind was already a few steps ahead.
“If my room is clear, some dry clothes would be nice,” she called after him. “And my belt bag. It has a few personal items I could use.”
“At your service.” With a mocking bow, Lowe left.
Calya required no further encouragement. She left her clothes in a sodden heap on the floor. Her bandages had come loose, soaked through with rain and sweat. They joined the pile of clothes as she wrapped herself in the blanket. She settled onto the stool, content to let warmth seep into her bones. It was hardly a plush seat, but in that moment, battered after the jaunt in the woods and rain-soaked from her rooftop escape, the stool and fire-warmed blanket were the pinnacle of luxury.
She examined one of the scrapes on her arm, fingertips pressing lightly around the newly healed flesh. A dull pain emanated from her ribs if she aggravated her bruised side, but short of any jarring impact, the injury was nothing of concern. Certainly not the kind of thing that would hold her back from any of the activities she might engage in tonight.
Might. Calya smiled to herself. She had every intention of letting her ranger prove just how wild he could be.
