Page 22 of Wicked Curses
“Good, someone has told you about The Reaping. Be prepared; it gets ugly.”
She rested her hand against the dagger she’d strapped to her hip before leaving the pub. Thankfully, she’d brought the fae-forged metal with her when she went in search of Orin.
The light fae’s eyes went to the dagger. “That won’t do much against a scarog.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll be ready for them.”
And that was only if she didn’t figure out how to escape before then.
A dwarf arrived at the steps and stomped her way up. Her battle-ax thudded off each step as she climbed.
“I’m ready when you are, Alette,” the dwarf said in her accented voice that resembled the humans’ English accent.
“I’ll be right in, Holgi.”
The dwarf grunted before going inside. Alette turned back to her. “The library is two streets over that way.” The barber pointed across the road. “It’s almost directly across from us. There’s a big sign; you can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime. My name is Alette; come see me whenever you need a cut.”
“Thank you, Alette. I will.” Sahira held out her hand. “I’m Sahira.”
Alette clasped her hand in both of hers. “It’s nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances, but you’ll learn it’s not so bad here.”
“It could be worse.”
Alette gave her a wan smile before releasing her hand and turning away. “Excuse me; I can’t keep Holgi waiting.”
When the door closed behind Alette, Sahira jogged down the steps and across the road. She strode through an alley and found another street where she discovered more homes.
She traversed another alley and emerged to find Orin standing on the bottom step of a building marked Library. Everything in her tensed, and she braced herself as she crossed the road to him.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
“What took you so long?”Orin inquired.
He tried to hide his amusement over the fury radiating from her, but it was impossible when her amber eyes sparkled in that way and red stained her cheeks. Stalking toward him with fisted hands, she looked ready to punch him.
Who couldn’t smile at that?
“Did you get lost?” he asked.
Her scowl was his answer.
“You should have waited for me,” he said. “I would have walked you here.”
“I decided to explore the town and meet some of its residents,” she retorted.
Orin didn’t believe that for a second, but he didn’t argue with her. He leaned against the railing and propped his head on his hand as she stopped before him. He couldn’t help admiring the way her clothes fit again.
Like him, she’d probably found a closet and dresser with assorted clothes inside. They were all different sizes and once belonged to those killed during The Reaping or in the pit.
Orin had no problem wearing a dead man’s clothes, but he suspected Sahira had squirmed as she put them on. She’d probably squirm more if she realized how good she looked and how he imagined peeling those clothes from her.
He was going to enjoy winning this game. And no matter how stubborn and prideful his witch was, he would win.
Before this realm, he’d noticed how pretty she was and her alluring hourglass figure, but she was always far too prickly for his liking. He preferred his women eager and compliant; they were much more fun that way.
