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Chapter One
Esme
The Splinter and Cask is a cesspool of questionable decisions if I’ve ever seen one.
I hunch over a mug of ale at the scarred wooden bar, grimacing as the sour liquid assaults my taste buds. Despite the unpalatable flavor, the stuff must be serving the intended purpose of liquid courage, and quickly. Otherwise, I doubt I would have braved those second and third swallows after the first revolting one.
Mismatched tables and chairs litter the cramped space, and cheap alcohol, burned stew, and unwashed bodies form a sour stench that quelches my appetite. I’m convinced generations of spoiled barley and wine have taken up permanent residence in the tavern’s grimy, warped floorboards.
Between sips, I sneak in fascinated peeks at my surroundings. A few tables over, a group of men in rumpled clothing play a raucous game of cards, and the low moans of pleasure spill from a threesome in a darkened corner. When I inadvertently make eye contact with the busty barmaid in the middle of the man sandwich, her wink causes my cheeks to blaze.
I whip my head back to my drink. If my father knew I was here, he’d probably disown me.
That’s my cue to leave.
The front door swings open, guttering the flames from the tallow candles scattered across the tables. Movement sweeps the edge of my vision, accompanied by a flash of auburn hair. Every nerve fires as my senses shriek that danger just prowled into the tavern.
Definitely time to move on.
Slapping enough coins on the bar to cover my drink and a sizable tip, I rise from my stool. The jitters immediately kick in again, because a lot rides on my successful completion of tonight’s upcoming assignment. Once that’s over and the Everhand is safely in my possession, I can finally relax.
Keeping my head down, I head across the sticky floor, skirting the edge of the room. Halfway to the door, a stout man lurches into my path and slaps one meaty palm on the wall beside my head.
“What’s the hurry, love?” The fumes from his alcohol-laced breath punch me in the face. “Lemme buy you a drink. We could have ourselves a little fun, if you know what I mean.”
Gross.
All too aware of the attention we’re starting to garner, I swallow an acerbic reply and angle myself toward the gap beneath his arm.
He blocks my path with his bulk. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said—”
“I heard you the first time,” I interrupt in a flat tone. “I’m picky, not deaf. Now get out of my way.”
The drunk’s grin wilts, sharpening into a sneer.
I sigh. Great. Guess we’re doing things the hard way, then.
Snarling, he seizes my wrist and yanks me forward. Before he can trap me inside his massive arms, I grab his shoulders and knee him in the groin with all my strength.
His agonized cry rings out as he releases me to clutch his manhood. I eye him with little sympathy. “Next time, make better life choices.”
I only manage two steps before the man recovers and lunges.
In the next heartbeat, a figure thrusts himself between us and latches onto my assailant’s wrist. Based on the howl of pain that follows, I’d wager a bag of coin that the newcomer’s grip is bone-crushing.
“The lady said she’s not interested.” His voice is unruffled yet somehow carries an edge. My scalp prickles, and the red hair confirms the reason behind my uneasiness.
This is the danger that walked in a moments ago.
Conversations around us falter as the lush attempts to wrench free. “I was just being friendly.”
“I suggest you find somewhere else to practice your social skills, then.” My protector squeezes tighter, grinning when the other man yelps. “If you so much as lay another finger on her, I’ll finish what she started and turn you into a eunuch.” The drunkard pales. After he scurries off, the newcomer directs his lazy grin at me. “You’re welcome.”
I stifle a gasp. The coppery hair frames a breathtakingly rugged face accentuated by a stubborn jaw and faint scars. He’s big too. Tall with the broad, muscular build of a laborer or soldier.
His eyes steal the show, though. They’re the clear, vivid blue of a summer sky, and so penetrating that I momentarily avert my gaze.
Not that his attractiveness or eye color has any bearing on my mission.
