Page 133 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

“I will. I don’t know if they’ll need help; they seem to have it in hand—ooh, excellent shot, Mal!”

Lirion focused harder, trying to discern through the water what was happening. It was almost impossible, and fear started clawing up his throat. What if Fenric was in trouble? Or Rain? He couldn’t see anything over this distance except some churning of the water, which told him nothing of what was going on.

Should he cast a long-range healing spell, just in case?

What if that was premature and Fenric didn’t need it, though? He’d have burned up some of his magic for no reason.

His nerves jangled, unease and agitation building like acid reflux. Next time there was a fight, screw this being support on the back lines, Lirion was going to keep Fenric in sight at all times because he was going to be at his fucking side. Being in danger was better than standing here, wondering if something was going wrong.

All doubts about his feelings for Fenric had burned away days ago. All he wanted to do now was find a quiet moment to confess everything.

How Fenric would respond to it, Lirion didn’t know. Humans seemed quite wrapped up in romantic love, to the point of fairy tales, but…Lirion wasn’t sure if he could promise him a fairy-tale love. He wasn’t sure what he could offer Fenric other than just himself. The only thing that mattered to him was Fenric being his, and he wanted to be Fenric’s in return. Hopefully that was enough.

He hated something of his being in danger. Hated it with a passion. Fenric better not be too tired after all the swimming and fighting, as Lirion had some pent-up frustration to work out tonight.

Lirion focused so hard on the water, he almost missed it when Belstrom gave a mighty swing and knocked the middle of the dam flat out. In fact, the barbarian gave a very un-Belstrom-like yelp of surprise as he scrambled across the crumbling structure and onto land, narrowly missing being swept downriver as the rest of the logs gave way under the water pressure.

In seconds, the dam fell into disarray, with a few thick clots of logs floating down the river, the rush of water almost forming a waterfall.

“The dam is down!” Lirion reported with a cheer.

“Excellent!” Maxie bounced up and down, thrusting his fists into the air. “Hapi and Malfas seem to have won here, too. With the finfolk retreating and possibly getting sucked downriver, they’re now patrolling the rest of the village to see if there’s any other finfolk left. I wish we knew what the head count of the enemy was.”

Lirion huffed a laugh. “That would be nice.” Yet, even with the water quickly receding, Lirion couldn’t fully relax. Not until he saw Fenric in his new shark body and was sure he was safe.

A shark? Never in a hundred lifetimes would Lirion have guessed that one of Fenric’s other forms was a shark. He’d seen Fenric as a raven, a black cat, and a gryphon. The first two made sense for a thief to have in his repertoire. They could be sneaky, allowing him to get into places where humans would easily overlook them. And a gryphon form could be useful during a fight and easily overpower most opponents.

But a shark? Why a shark?

He’d ask, but only after they had their talk and he convinced Fenric they had to remain together as more than comrades in arms or in a brotherly bond. No, they had to be together as a couple. And naturally, as a couple, Fenric would have to spill his guts about all his secrets, starting with why he could shift into a shark.

As the water poured back down the once-dry riverbed to rush toward the sea, Lirion locked his attention on locating where Rain and Fenric had been guarding Belstrom.

He blinked and Fenric suddenly stood up from the water in his human form. The murky liquid was now down to his knees where he stood. He had his back to Lirion and was gesturing to Belstrom, who laughed and waved a hand at him. What the hell were they saying? At least there was no urgency in their gestures and Belstrom was smiling. A moment later, Rain’s dark head popped up out of the water and he sat himself on a rock. He grinned and kicked up his long, thick silvery tail lined with golden fins. Wow. It was hard to believe. That foulmouthed, sneaky bastard was really part merman.

At last, Fenric turned toward the manor and its high walls. He lifted his hands to his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he seemed to search the wall. After a moment, he lifted one hand and patted the top of his head.

“What the hell is he doing?” Lirion muttered.

“Oh! That’s the everything is okay signal. Malfas and Bel taught it to me. If we’re ever in a fight or something and you get separated but want to signal to the group you’re okay, pat your head.”

Not what he’d expected, but it didn’t matter. Fenric was safe and sound. Lirion finally breathed properly. Seeing his lover standing there unharmed was what his heart had needed.

“They’re fine; no one’s injured over here.” Lirion lowered the glass. His heart was unclenching, and he was ever so glad the fight was over.

“And look!” Maxie pointed away from where the lake had been toward the road they’d followed to Lord Mire’s manor. With each passing second, the wall of fog was growing thinner and thinner, disappearing before their eyes. There was no sign of the finfolk lingering in the water as it poured out of the area, so there was no one to maintain the barrier. “We should have no problem leaving now!”

“Excellent. Puppy, I’ll keep watch on them, but I say you go down and check that our wagon of loot is ready to go. I want to get out of here before anything else is demanded of us.”

Fenric’s smile was quickly becoming a grimace as yet another person grabbed his hand and effusively pumped it while gushing with praise. People constantly rapped him on the back and shoulders, going on about how their group had saved their lives and set them free. He wasn’t entirely sure if they were talking about the finfolk or Lord Mire when it came to the free part. Either way, this kind of talk was not helping their villain rating in the slightest.

He lifted onto the tips of his toes and found all the members of his team surrounded by the villagers. Women were weeping tears of joy and pulling his comrades in to press wet kisses to their cheeks. It was somewhat unnerving. He was more accustomed to red faces and fists clenched in anger. What he wouldn’t give to see a pitchfork shaking in anger right about now.

“All of you are the most courageous heroes we’ve ever seen!” shouted a tall, beefy man with broad shoulders. By his rough hands and slightly smoky smell, Fenric was willing to guess this was the town’s blacksmith.

“We’re not heroes!” Fenric burst out, his voice on the verge of pleading as he grew more desperate. “Please! We’re not heroes. We’re villains. Evil, despicable, wretched villains!”

Around him, people laughed and didn’t pause in their thanks for even a breath.