Page 21 of Lady Knight and the Thief

At his companions' disposal, he blanched, but squared up to Torren with a scowl.

Torren waved at the male to begin, his hands hanging loosely at his side.

The man charged with a yell, sloppily swinging his fists in great, heavy arcs. It was as if he were trying to recreate what Torren had done to his friend.

Smiling, Torren easily evaded each blow until the man was red-faced, his breath coming out in great heaves and sweat beading across his brow. It only took another couple of throws like that, with Torren easily keeping out of his reach for the male to exhaust himself.

Torren ducked under the male's arm, then came up behind him and grabbed him.

With his forearm around the male’s throat, head held tight, Torren easily broke his neck.

The crunch was barely louder than the songs still being sung only a stairwell away. As soon as the male’s heart stopped beating, Torren was on the move. He quickly dragged the body across the hall, toward the waiting open window. Below, there was a cart filled with scraps he knew from various reports his people had collected of the Inn’s movements that went to the hog farm nearby.

With one great heave, Torren tossed the body through the window and repeated the process for the first assailant. When he closed the shutters with finality, he finally took a steadying breath. Then, he dusted himself off.

From his position, he could hear the final notes of the song, scraping chairs, and a hushed series ofthank you for listening.

The inn was closing down for the evening, it seemed.

There was another hall of rooms on the other side of the Inn, which was where Torren suspected the remaining patrons were meandering off to.

He waited for a few more moments at the top of the stairwell, leaning against the wall in a picture of relaxed comfort. Thankfully, though, no one else followed the two men up the stairs.

The horses should be ready for them by now, but a few hours' rest sounded nice before they departed.

Mind made up, he aimed toward room number eleven, where Cypress was holed up.

Torren knocked twice, then leaned against the frame to wait for the Lass to answer.

The door cracked barely a finger’s width, one greenish eye laying sight on his form before it widened a fraction more.

“What?”

“Change of plans. Can I come in?”

Cypress scoffed. “Because all the ladies in this establishment thought better of themselves and decided not to bother with the likes of you?”

Torren laughed at her, then pushed past and into the room.

“I never said you couldcome in,” Cypress said, though the latch still clicked behind him when she closed the door and locked it.

“If you must know,Ideclinedher, but that’s not why I’m here,” Torren said, turning to rest his hip against the small desk on the opposite side of the room.

Surprise and arousal flooded his veins as he took in what she was wearing. Only a long white shirt hung over Cypress’s shoulders. Torren was unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her thick, long legs and bare feet.

Torren crossed his arms and rolled his neck, mastering his more baser desires.

Cypress crossed her arms, leaning on one hip as she pulled a face, and said, “I hope it’s not to try towoome with your…charm.” She waggled her fingers in his direction, sending blood rushing through him.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Lass,” Torren said, leaning forward. “You like my charm.”

“Why are youin my room? I thought you wouldn’t need one,” Cypress asked, redirecting their conversation.

“It seems yourdisplayon our arrival got more attention than I thought. Unwelcome attention.”

Cypress looked unimpressed. “And?”

“I’m here… To protect you.”