Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She really wished she could read his mind, to see if he was lying. He’d said he couldn’t, but how could she believe that now?
Quite easily, he said. I didn’t lie once a moment ago. Think over it and you’ll see. I told you I had a cunning way with words. I was not lying at that, either. All fae do, though some are better than others. I’ve had to become the best of them all.
She also didn’t know why he would barter on behalf of someone else. Almost offering himself up in their stead. That didn’t seem like his style.
Despite his words, she didn’t know how to trust him. The recent situation still burned. She needed more pieces of his story.
“And you shall have them, before the end, though you will likely wish you hadn’t,” he said. “Regardless…” He held the knife higher. “I will return this to you if you do not try to kill the Fallen. Not any of the ten. Not ever.”
She made a face at him. “Really? Not ever? They come for my throat and I just whistle and look the other way?”
A smile tried to peek through his serious exterior. “I will return your knife—”
“For how long?”
The smile grew a bit wider. “I will return your knife…forever, only borrowing it from you if your life is in danger or should you will it. In return, you will not kill or seriously harm my Fallen, unless they are trying to kill you. If I should keep this weapon from you, the deal is off.”
“Any time I do not have that weapon in my possession, the deal is off.”
The smile was in full bloom now. “You continually surprise and impress me. You are also continuing to help me make a statement. Okay, let’s see if I can get this right…”
He couldn’t. They went at it for a few more rounds, tweaking and adjusting until each of them had a deal they could live with. When they were done, she wanted to sag in fatigue and hunger.
“Yes, let’s get back,” he said, handing over the knife and the sheath, which had dropped from her person in the struggle.
The others waited where she’d left them, not as straight and tall as when they first stepped into the path. They had a few more holes in their bodies too. A few more cuts and scrapes.
“Daisy, these are four of my ten Fallen,” Tarian said as he limped beside her.
“What does that mean, the fallen?” she asked.
“They gave up their place in a proper society, and within a proper court, for me. I take their allegiance very seriously.”
She wondered why they’d do that for him but didn’t ask. She’d undoubtedly learn more through observation and analysis.
Tarian inclined his head, hearing her thought. “This is Lennox.” He indicated a male of about six-two with the muscular build that they all possessed, the mark of a warrior. His wheat-colored hair was half tied on the top of his head and then flowed down around his face and over his back and shoulders in gentle waves. A couple braids tamed a portion, but otherwise, it was loose and wild and more than a little pretty. His reddish beard had a ponytail-holder thing right at his chin with a metallic decal. Leather cords and amulets and leather braids circled his neck and hung down his heavily inked-up chest. Except for the one she’d cut off, which was clutched in his fist. A similar mess of tattoos covered his arms and dotted his legs. It was like he’d been in prison and gotten bored and started marking himself up. His nose was straight and came to a fine point, and his light brows hung slightly low over sky-blue eyes. He was a looker with terrible taste in jewelry, and looked exactly like the Vikings in the Chester history books. She wondered if those hadn’t actually been fae raiding and pillaging their way through the lands. It would make a lot of sense.
“Ryoden,” Tarian said, indicating a slightly slimmer male. He had black hair, straight, with that same topknot, a couple braids, and strands of his thinner hair flowing down his back. His head was half buzzed, with a wavy line through it as a decal. The other two had the same. She assumed the Viking had a similar style hidden within that mane. Ryoden didn’t have any facial hair, showing off his square jaw and cleft chin. Also a looker.
Let me remind you, Tarian said with an edge to his mental voice, what would happen should your lips land on anyone but me. I do not want to have to kill my own men.
She grinned at the hint of possessiveness in his voice.
The other two, Niall and Darryn, were similar in appearance, as though they might be brothers. A little shorter than the others, they stood at about six feet and had been the last to engage in their skirmish. Niall’s long braid rolled over his shoulder and reached down to his stomach. The rest of his wispy hair half floated around his back because it was so thin and light. He really needed a trim. Darryn had a little dusky-brown braid on each side of his forehead with white string or ribbon or something entwined within it. His topknot was wild, as though someone had yanked on it, and more ribbon-entwined braids streaked the otherwise thin and straight hair. They…hopefully had great personalities.