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The sudden and unwanted attention twisted her gut. She stared down at her ale, letting the cowl fall over her face.
“Such a wee lass. Thought you were a child at first, but you’re one ofthem, aren’t you?” His hand whipped out to grip her by the wrist and yank her around to face him.
The sleeve of her cloak fell to her elbow, revealing her cuff and the binding hex inscribed along the outer edges.
“Witch!” he spat, his gaze flashing with a green glow. Oh, goddess! Was he on the verge of transforming? She had no defenses.
Suddenly the big man was mysteriously gone from her line of sight.
She barely clocked Khalstorm’s lightning-fast movement, having jumped out of his seat and tackled the man to the ground one handed by the throat. The sound of his body slamming to the wood flooring sent a deafening crack through the room. Heads turned, but nobody moved.
Khalstorm snarled, “You don’t touch her. Ever!”
Face reddening from Khalstorm’s constricting hold on his throat, the now-red-faced man managed to choke out, “Just like your father. Cock-whipped for a witch.”
Expression murderous, Khalstorm tightened his grip. The man thrashed, struggling to throw Khalstorm off, but couldn’t break his hold. His two friends appeared unsure of what to do. Did they consider this the start of an officialchallenge?
If so, to intervene would be dishonorable.
But if it were simply a barroom brawl, they could pile on at any moment. Could Khalstorm possibly fight them all off? Three against one was bad enough, but Khalstorm had to be exhausted from their travels. Not only that, if even one of them transformed into dragon form, Khalstorm was toast. That torc around his neck still prevented him from shifting.
When the big man’s complexion shifted toward an angry purple and his eyes bulged, his friends finally made their decision.
Just as they lunged to attack, Celeste shot to her feet. “I’m his prisoner!” she cried, stunning the group into halting the fight. Four sets of eyes snapped her way. She swallowed against the pain of what she was about to say, the lie she was about to tell. “Because I’m the one who killed Princess Lizbet.”
Khalstorm released the man and backed away as though the wind had been knocked out of him. She thought he’d be relieved to finally get the confession he’d been after, gloating even, but he only stared at her with a mixture of horror and confusion.
“He’s taking me to the new king as an offering in hopes of rejoining your clan.” Her heart squeezed as she realized the gravity of her words, false or not. Any hopes of convincing Khalstorm of the truth was now and forever lost.
But the outburst worked, curtailing the ensuing chaos that would have undoubtedly ended badly for both her and Khalstorm.
For a tense moment, all the men just stared. Khalstorm still appeared thunderstruck.
“You?” the big man hissed through heaving breaths as his two companions helped him to his feet. Rubbing his neck, he gazed at her with new interest while sliding Khalstorm hostile glances, the fight not quite drained out of him. Was he thinking of taking her as his own hostage? Perhaps she hadn’t quite thought this through.
The cock of a pistol drew their attention. The busty barmaid had a barrel pointed straight at them. “That’s enough. All of you.” She aimed the gun at Khalstorm. “You’ll be leaving this establishment now. And take your witch with you.” To the others, she said, “If you lot want to brawl, you can damn well do it outside. I ain’t cleaning that shit up.”
“We’re done here,” Khalstorm declared, his narrowed gaze trained on the big man. “Follow us and you’ll be sorry.” Then he grabbed Celeste by the hand and tugged her along as they made a swift exit.
On the darkened street, she noted the tension in his body as she rushed to keep pace with his much wider steps. The twin moons had shifted low in the night sky, covering the path in hazy blue darkness.
They’d made it several yards when Khalstorm suddenly whirled on her, his eyes almost crazed. “Tell me you did it.”
She cocked her head in confusion. “Did what?”
“Tell me you killed Lizbet.”
Mouth clamping shut, she pursed her lips, not about to lie twice in one night.
He shook her by the shoulders and bellowed, “Say it, dammit!”
Jaw set stubbornly, she just stared at him.
Expression darkening with a fearful rage, his fingers dug into her shoulders until she winced. “You just said it in there. So, say it again. Look me in the eye and say it again!”
Fed up and exhausted and no longer caring if he believed the truth, she glared up at him and snapped. “I did it. Are you satisfied? Is everything right in your world again? You hate me anyway, so what does it matter if I say I killed her or not? You’d never believe otherwise.”
Yet, he’d released her halfway through her speech as though she’d burned him, horror coating his features. “It can’t be,” he muttered as though to himself. “I know what I saw.”
