“What if we used that against them?”
She looked at me blankly. “You’re going to have to elaborate a bit more.”
“If you pretended to be ill, I could pretend to be distraught. Then we could lure the guards inside and …”
Her eyes widened. “Spoon time!”
“Spoon time.”
Skye walked to one end of the compact cell and pivoted, walking back the same way. “What kind of illness would be convincing? I feel like any guard worth anything will be suspicious if I just moan and flop around.”
“I hoped you would do more than that,” I said, “but you’re right that it needs to be convincing. It needs to be bad enough that they’ll forget their suspicions.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “Blood might do it. I could cut myself and spread the blood around enough that it looks worse than it is.”
My pulse quickened. Blood did not bother me, apparently. But the thought of her blood did.
“You will not cut yourself.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not afraid of a little blood. Jasmine and I cut our palms when we were kids so we could be blood sisters.”
I shook my head. “I will do it. Vandar have a higher tolerance for pain.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This you remember?”
She was right. I did not remember, but I felt confident in assuming that as a battle chief I would be more accustomed to pain than she would be. Besides, the idea of her hurting herself made my heart twist. I did not want to tell her that the enemy had gotten their way already. I could not allow her to be harmed. Not even for an escape plan.
“You are arguing with me about who gets to stab themselves?” I asked.
“You know what? You’re right. If you want to bleed yourself for the plan, be my guest. That means that we can’t let the guards get too close, though. And we have to be careful not to let them see where you’re cut.”
“My leg is the only place.” I lifted my battle kilt to expose my thighs.
Skye’s gaze lingered on my bare skin, and then she snatched it away. “As long as you avoid the arteries.”
I eyed her long pants and long-sleeved top. At least it would be easier to hide her fake injury. “You can hold your gut, and we’ll cover your hands with blood.”
She shot me a wicked grin. “Or we put it all over my mouth and neck, and we can say that I’m turning into a bloodsucker.”
“We want the guards to come into the cell,” I reminded her. “Not run away and leave me to be devoured.”
She laughed. “Good point. They would totally leave you to be eaten.” She dropped to the ground and sprawled out with her hands clutching her gut. “How does this look?”
I bent down and pretended to be attending to her, wrappingmy arms around her back and cradling her. “This should be convincing.”
“Especially with blood all over me.” She looked up, her eyes dancing.
I met her gaze with our faces so close I could feel her breath. Then my chest tightened as my gaze drifted to her mouth. This was not the time to kiss her. Do not kiss her, I told myself fiercely.
Skye broke the moment first, patting my chest forcefully and pushing me away. “Time to get bloody, big guy.”
Chapter
Thirteen
Skye
“Ithink that’s enough,” I said after Kolt had smeared a scary amount of blood onto my palms.
