He offered a chagrined smile that made his expression into the perfect personification of Tallis: cynically good-humored, a little baffled by the world, yet willing to learn more about the mysteries he hadn’t yet solved. For all his wandering and anger, he still seemed genuinely curious about life and accepting of new adventures. He didn’t like the unknown—who did?—yet he sought new experiences with an intensity that suggested he’d be bored with anything less.
“And you, goddess? What will you feel lying next to me?”
She couldn’t breathe, not when he stood to his full, impressive height and stared at her with predatory intensity. She wasn’t his enemy, but she did feel like his prey. “I’ll be scared.”
“You don’t show it often. Being scared.”
“And I won’t tonight either. That doesn’t mean it won’t be true.”
Kavya readjusted her sari. She was speaking the most suggestive, honestly sexual words she’d ever uttered to the man who would take what she’d given no man. The urge to be beautiful for him was becoming an imperative, like eating and breathing.
And why not? Sex was just as elemental.
She took a deep breath. “Hand over the money.”
“You think I can’t haggle?”
“You don’t know how to haggle here, in possibly eight languages. And there are Dragon Kings.”
“Indranan?”
“Of course.”
“Why haven’t we been jumped and beheaded?”
“The ones in hiding don’t want to be found. They live in a metropolis for a reason. Make their living. Stay clear of their siblings. Live to see the next day. Some might be lucky enough to live happily in a pod.” She threaded her arm through his. “Think of it this way. Have you ever been in a bar when you could feel the tension? Where under the surface, a brawl was waiting to touch off?”
“Better to ignore it. Keep drinking and talking.”
“That’s what it feels like here. Indranan keeping their heads down. If you feel that little tickle of awareness, Northern or Southern, you ignore it and move on.”
I’m coming for you, sister.
The words were a memory, not an immediate threat. But he was on his way. He wouldn’t stop. That constant awareness made Kavya more reckless with Tallis than she might have otherwise behaved. Events had moved between them at four times the normal speed, all because she dreaded the next day, the next hour. As long as Pashkah lived, she would carry that fear—and she would try to stay with Tallis.
And after . . .? If she was lucky enough and prepared enough and strong enough to take Pashkah down, would she and Tallis part ways?
Why wouldn’t they?
The next stall sold clothing, which gave Kavya a much-needed means of avoiding thorny topics. “This one,” she said bluntly to the stall owner. The sari was plain cotton, dyed blue, with few embellishments. It bore a striking similarity to the maroon one Tallis had stolen. She still wore it, but it had suffered the rigors of the day. Even a simple change of clothes would make her feel like a new woman.
“And this one.” Tallis held up his choice.
She froze.
No. Not that one.
She wanted to tell him the truth, but it was too terrifying. What he’d chosen was the style of garment a woman wore when she was ready to commit fratricide. When she was ready to claim the other half of her Dragon-given gift. How could she explain the significance of an outfit that blended seamlessly with the market stall’s other vibrant wares?
I can’t buy that, Tallis, she’d have to say. It would set the future in stone. I would be obligated to kill Pashkah. I would take his mind into mine. I would go really, truly mad—beyond logic or redemption.
I would lose you.
Instead she forced a harsh laugh and turned back to her simpler choice. “That’s practically a costume. Better suited for belly dancers.”
“So? You already know I’ve thought about your belly. If you aren’t going to wear jewelry there, the least you can do is give me an unobstructed view.”
“You and everyone else.”
He slunk closer, his shoulders curved around hers—the slightest intimidation, as if he could cage her with just his stance. Maybe it was true, because she didn’t move.
“What’s the matter, goddess? Afraid of showing off who you really are?” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles.
Kavya worked to hide a shiver that had nothing to do with Tallis’s touch.
Who I really am.
“And to think I couldn’t read you at all,” he said, smiling. “Now it’s like rereading a book. You want it, too.”
Kavya eyed the outfit, chilled by the double meaning to his words. The two-piece sari had a bodice of amethyst silk that shimmered in the waning sun, with an underlayer of deep purple velvet. The skirt would hang low on her hips, where two bronze medallions adorned with more flowing purple and layers of brocade in shades of gold, orange, and red. The scarf was of the same graceful amethyst, with the barest fringe of gold trim. The colors should’ve been garish together. Tallis couldn’t imagine how those colors and that cut of fabric called to her in primitive ways.
“Haggle away,” he said in the common tongue of the Dragon Kings. “But we’re getting this, too.”
He stood near enough that she could see the tick of his pulse along his neck and at his temple. He had a wild gleam in his eye. The gleam spoke of something deeper than haggling and the marketplace. Perhaps some part of his gift? The berserker side? She couldn’t tell, because he was also simply . . . Tallis. A man. A Dragon King.
Yes—a living god.
They didn’t need telepathy after spending days reading each other’s every movement, watching for clues, depending on each other. That was as frightening as the ornamental bronze medallions she stroked with her thumb.
“Yes,” she said quietly “We’re getting this, too.”
He moved behind her and curled warm, broad palms on her shoulders. “You’ll be beautiful wearing this, Kavya. I’ll be proud to stand by your side when you do.”
—
They finished shopping, during which Kavya had concluded the long-winded process of haggling for every item. She and the vendors spoke so quickly in some local tongue, maybe Hindi. Tallis hadn’t been able to keep up. That she came away with a nod and a small smile told him of her satisfaction with an exchange. That he’d walked away from each encounter with a few extras tucked in his pack—old habits died hard.
The process was repeated at a few stalls containing foodstuffs and hand-milled soaps. They even found him a relatively new leather jacket, this one lightweight yet durable. He might actually feel like a man again, rather than a wild animal that had crawled down from the mountains. Those weren’t his mountains, and the animal was firmly set on its target. He would have Kavya alone.
In that hotel.
“We’re out of money,” she said. “We can’t afford to stay there.”
“We can’t afford to, but we’re staying.”
He took her hand and practically dragged her to the back of the building. An ancient fire escape was an obvious choice for breaking in, but he eyed the metal. It was rusted and pitted with holes at the hinges. Either it wouldn’t hold them, or it would make hell’s own noise as he pulled down the bottom set of steps. Yet as a man who’d spent twenty years without a home, he wasn’t out of options. He liked to think he never was, but he glanced back at Kavya and knew better. She was another wild mountain creature, blazing with fire and an unknowable darkness that had overtaken her in the market.
She was alive with a vitality he wanted to suck into his bones. His bones felt old.