Theo squatted down, his knee hovering over her chest. Her blue eyes grew wide, but her attempt to speak caused a cough to ripple through her.
He leaned in, lightly pressing his knee onto her chest to keep her pinned as he bent his head and whispered in her ear, “In a moment, I’m going to remove my knee, and you’re going to get up and follow me.”
If she continued to run, she would only further incriminate herself, and Bennet or Alan wouldn’t be far behind them. Theo studied her hand as she grabbed her head, and her eyes crinkled together. Blood caked everypart of her body, but her hand appeared to have more than traces of the man’s blood.
He took hold of it, and she let out a muffled cry. Her knuckles were smashed and puffy, but when he went to set her hand back on her chest, something sparkled, reflecting the waning hours of moonlight.
“Is that glass?”
“Mirror.” She groaned and tried to pull it back, but Theo refused to relinquish his grip.
“What did you do? Punch it?”
The subtle twitch of her eye gave her away. There wasn’t a village for miles. How could she have punched a mirror? He pinched a shard between his fingers and pried it from her flesh. Sure enough, it reflected what little he could see. She bit her bottom lip and squirmed beneath him.
“When?” he whispered more harshly than he intended as he dug another piece from her hand.
She winced as he prodded at a piece of glass between her first two knuckles. “Maybe thirty minutes ago,” she squeaked. “Stop touching it.”
He allowed her to pull her hand from his grasp. He would’ve expected her injury to be from a punch to a jaw, not a mirror. There was no pus or signs of inflammation. She was telling the truth.
As Theo contemplated the situation, an irksome thought occurred to him.Would she have been able to take a man of Lord Freville’s size?He may have been older, but Freville had been a decently sized man, and where they were camped, they should’ve heard the fight. She appeared strong, but Theo doubted she would’ve had the strength with her fingers in that state. Lord Freville’s body was cut beyond recognition, and their fight would’ve been loud and brutal. It wasn’t possible she killed him in the last several hours.
“Are you going to get off me?” She eyed his knee still pressed to her chest.
Theo hesitated for another moment as all the information jumbled in his head. Something wasn’t adding up.
He lifted his knee and stood. “Are you—”
Cutting him off, she rolled and kicked his legs out from under him. She tried to jump and make a run for it, but Theo grabbed hold of her ankle and brought her to the ground. She was strong as she kicked and fought him. Her nails scratched at his arms, and she attempted to knee him several times in the groin. He grappled with her, finding one wrist and then the other. He pinned them above her head and settled on top of her as she screamed and raged against him, but he restrained himself from an overbearing grip. He couldn’t allow the monster within him to escape, the man he was during the war. He had no idea who she was. She could be running from a slaver or caught up in something entirely unrelated for all he knew.
“Let me go, you prick!” She spat in his face, but he kept her arms pinned.
He leaned closer and allowed his voice to deepen. “I don’t think you quite understand your situation. We found you at the scene of a brutal murder.”
“I didn’t do it!”
“Then quit fighting me.”
“You’re the one trying to kidnap me!” She bit back the choking in her throat.
Kidnap her?Did she not recognize their uniforms?
“I’m Captain Theodoric Fastrada. I’m not kidnapping you. I’m arresting you.”
She blinked, and her heavy panting slowed. Theo let go of her hands.
“You’re what?” Her shoulders released their tension, but it was only a diversion. Her fist collided with Theo’s mouth, and he rolled over, grasping his jaw.
Her hand slid along his belt. Before he could draw a weapon, she was standing over him with his dagger pointed at his chest. He couldn’t reach for his sword. She would attack before he had the chance to draw it. Theo raised his hands in surrender.
“What do you mean arrest me? Are you some private militia?” Her voice cracked as she stumbled over her words.
Theo’s dagger shook in her hands, but he focused on her rose-tinted lips and the accent escaping them. It was an interesting drawl he couldn’t place. He could easily take her down, kick her legs out from under her. But he wanted to see what she would do, what she was capable of.
“We’re no militia. We’re soldiers in the king’s army, Luana’s forces.”
She sputtered incomprehensibly, but he made out “king” and “shit.”
