Page 47 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

A hint of guilt pinged Lirion’s conscience and he cleared his throat. “Sorry. All of that heightened emotion at the bar got to me.”

“Well, I got a fantastic blow job out of it, so I don’t want to argue.” Fenric started straightening himself up.

Lirion pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned up enough to do the same, standing again. Still, he kept a watchful eye on Fenric. Normally, at this point, people thought of ways to exploit this newfound knowledge. It could range from “Hey, let’s continue this elsewhere” to something far darker and more sinister. His sister’s fate was certainly nothing new. It was far too common a fate for his kind. Lirion didn’t know this man well enough to predict what he’d do next.

Instead of leering or making suggestions, Fenric stretched his arms overhead. “Not sure who benefited from that more, me or you. Damn, it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I feel so much more relaxed right now.”

That was…an interesting response. Really? No questions, no demands, no trying to twist this so it was all Lirion’s fault and he now owed him?

What the hell was wrong with this idiot? He had the upper hand; why wasn’t he using it?

Fenric must have caught the look because he paused mid-stretch. “What?”

“That’s all you’re going to say about it? I just had my wicked way with you, and you’re not even upset.”

“Yes, because having my brains sucked out by a gorgeous man is such a hardship.” He paused and smirked as he added, “Was my sarcasm thick enough?”

Despite himself, Lirion grinned. “It was.”

“Good. Try not to get into any more bar fights, okay?” Fenric shot him a wink before starting to saunter off.

“For the record, I’m really not following you,” Lirion called out. Fenric stopped and spun easily on the balls of his feet as if he really was part cat. “Those times…when we ran into each other, they really were a coincidence.”

Fenric’s expression was blank, utterly unreadable, then he nodded and made a soft noise. “And for the record,” he said, seeming to playfully mimic Lirion before his expression turned serious, “I am sorry for messing up…whatever you were trying to get out of Lance. I know what it’s like to be fucked over by a hero.”

Fenric’s roar about the murder of his mother echoed in the darkest part of Lirion’s mind. His pained expression was seared into his memories. Yeah, he did know.

“Thanks,” Lirion murmured softly.

Fenric saluted with one hand and resumed walking out of the alley, where he disappeared around the corner.

Lirion watched him go and felt this strange mix of relief and curiosity. For a self-proclaimed villain, Fenric was far too forgiving. And nice.

Men could be nice. Who knew?

He still didn’t know if he liked Fenric, and he was still on the fence about trusting him, but, well. It wasn’t like there was any need to get on the man’s good side, was there?

With a mental shrug, he followed Fenric out to the main street. The man had already disappeared into the crowd, and Lirion intended to do the same. He was well fed now, and it should hold him for the next two days.

Lirion absolutely had to figure out the logistics of how to reach his sister now that he had a direction. That would be his entire focus until he had a plan and a route secured.

Getting kicked out of Pomor had been worth it. Björnkill had already given far more.

Improved living quarters over their last place. Check.

Beat the shit out of Hero Lance. Check.

Reacquired some of his mother’s possessions. Check.

Got a new lead on the precious jewelry box. Check.

Received a toe-curling blow job from a sexy incubus. Double check.

It also didn’t hurt that Belstrom got to knock the shit out of “illiterate, inbred, mouth-breathing plebeians.” Whatever made the big guy happy and kept some semblance of peace in the group. After Belstrom was kicked out of the tavern for fighting, he and Fenric had even managed to grab a bit of lunch from a street cart—roasted lamb and peppers on skewers.

Now Fenric just had to find a way to sell a trip to Lord Mire’s place to the group. If the finfolk were as much of a problem as the listing mentioned, this wouldn’t be a one-person job.

“You wanna go where?” Rain drawled from where he lounged across the one sofa in the main parlor with Hapi. Maxie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Rain, staring up at Fenric like he was weaving some magical fairy tale and not attempting to pitch an actual job to the crew. Malfas sat in one of the wingback chairs with his feet up on a small footstool, looking like some rich lord. The new place was the nicest house they’d rented yet, which only made Fenric wonder what was wrong with it. The walls were all standing and the plumbing worked. The kitchen even possessed an oven and a small magic-fueled cooling box that worked. The building had to be haunted or cursed. That was the only way to explain how they could afford it.