“I’ll help.”Her hands brushed against his on a buckle.
That touch, even that miniscule touch… Holy Hades.He completed securing the saddles, moving to the second one and letting her finish with the first.She stood before it—a side saddle—expectantly.
He had no choice.
He stepped close.His hands.Her waist.When he lifted her, she rested her palms on his shoulders.She wouldn’t surrender his gaze, and when she was finally safely situated in the saddle, time had slipped away entirely, meaningless thing.There was only the forever blue fields of Sybil’s eyes.
He cleared his throat, mounted his horse, and they took off, riding in silence, and when they reached the low, open structure near the center of the village, Apollo helped her off the horse.There was but a short walk to the building, and he carried her.
“I’m putting you down as soon as we’re inside,” he grumbled.
“I do hope so.”
“You’re my penance, aren’t you?You’ve been put on this earth to drive me mad.”
“I’m not sure I like being someone’s penance.”
He ducked beneath the doorframe and stepped inside, setting her down immediately.She balanced herself and studied the place with a greedy gaze.
At the back of the forge, a large man looked up, his head bald and shiny in the firelight.His arms were huge, and Apollo, who hadn’t spent much time near a flame in the last four days, rather wished he was suffering the effects of fire energy.He might boil a tub of water, but at least he’d meet this behemoth in height.
“Whad’ya want?”the man asked, one thick dark brow curling high into his forehead.
Apollo took a step backward, toward the door.
Sybil took a confident step forward.“I am…” She hesitated.He could see it even from behind her—her back curved in a bit, her shoulders rounding.She lifted a hand to pick at the stray hairs curling about her nape.When she looked over her shoulder at him, he was boiling.No need for metalwork to get him that way.
“Yes?”Apollo drawled.“You are…”
“Perhaps you should speak with him,” she whispered.
“I don’t think so.You’re the one who wants the tools.Not me.”
“You?”The blacksmith shaped like a mountain rounded his anvil, slinging a large hammer over his shoulder.He came toward Sybil, making her curve farther into herself until he stood towering over her.She didn’t tremble.But she didn’t lift her goddamn chin either.The blacksmith sneered.“Youwant tools?What’r ya goin’ to do with ’em?”
“Well, erm… give them to my brother?”Her arm flinched slightly, a gesture toward Apollo.“He’s an alchemist.”
The blacksmith rocked back a step and scratched his head as his gaze swung to Apollo.“What kind of tools ya need?”A much friendlier tone now.
The bastard.
He was much bigger than Apollo, but Apollo was likely quicker.He could kick the fellow between the legs, grab Sybil by the waist, and be out of there before the man recovered.
“Hesperus,” Sybil hissed.
Or he could?—
“Hesperus.”
Oh, that was him.“Yes?”
She slipped her hands around his upper arms.“Please?”Oh hell, who knew her eyes could get even bigger and bluer.
He turned to the brute.“All the tools.I need them all.I’m just back from my apprenticeship in Germany and setting up my own forge at Foggy Hill House.I need everything.”
But the brute still seemed hesitant.He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.“Little girls shouldn’t play with fire.They get hurt.”
PerhapsnowSybil would eat this man alive.
