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‘Ah, too many things to count these days,’ he replied.
Thea’s eyes narrowed as she spotted several other men lurking in the shadows behind him. ‘Friends of yours?’
The man waved his companions forward. ‘Acquaintances,’ he corrected. ‘All united by the same goal.’
‘Fascinating.’ Thea wiggled her toes in her boots. At least they hadn’t taken those… ‘And pray tell, what’s that?’
The leader came forward and kicked Wilder’s chair, causing his chains to rattle and Wilder to stir.
‘There’s a price on the Warsword’s head. Yours too.’ He offered her a feral grin.
‘I didn’t realise there’d be someone stupid enough to enact a kill order on a Warsword,’ Thea said thoughtfully. ‘Though I suppose if there are people stupid enough to give the order, someone will inevitably try.’
The man scoffed. ‘He wasn’t so hard to catch. Only had to wait until he was about to get his dick wet, then he was just like any other man.’
The bastard reminded her of Seb Barlowe, and what he might become in twenty or thirty years’ time. Still the same old bully, but given enough power and influence, he’d become a bigger problem, like the man before her.
Thea studied him and the men leering in the background. There was nothing distinguishable about them – no sigils on their clothes, no distinct accent, no tattoos or fancy weaponry. Who were they? Were they an organised unit? Or simply mercenaries for hire? If so, who had hired them? Thea counted seven in sight, but she suspected there were more in the wings of the storehouse. It wouldn’t have been easy to move both her and Wilder unconscious and unseen from the palace grounds.
‘See something you like here, girl?’ the man sneered.
Thea wrinkled her nose in disgust. He definitely reminded her of Seb – as if she needed another reason to hate the spineless prick.
‘Can’t say that I do,’ she replied, rolling her ankle subtly, seeking the brush of metal against her skin.
‘You’re mouthy for a girl in your position.’
‘And what position is that?’ She loosened her foot in her boot.
‘All tied up and nowhere to go, around a dozen men who haven’t seen a pair of decent tits in months.’
A dozen. Interesting.Thea’s boot gave a little more. ‘Thought I had a price on my head?’
‘I’m sure we can have some fun with you first.’
Chains rattled. ‘Lay a hand on her, and you’ll die a slow, painful death.’ Wilder’s deep voice rumbled through the space, full of violence.
‘You’re pretty confident for a man in chains, Warsword,’ their captor said. ‘But I don’t think we need to worry about the likes of you just now.’
To Thea’s surprise, Wilder laughed. ‘I didn’t say it was me you had to worry about.’
And that was all the diversion she needed.
She slipped her foot from her boot and kicked it upward, sending her throwing stars flying. They span, a blur of silver.
The men stared. Time seemed to slow while they rotated through the air.
Thea smiled. Catching two stars in her bound hands, she sliced through the ropes in one effortless motion.
In an instant she was on her feet, the stars already flying, spearing through her captor’s hand and pinning him to the crate behind him, a wail echoing through the space. Thea kept moving, as quick as a shadow, more of her stars hurtling through the air and finding their marks, shouts of pain sounding all around.
They didn’t see her coming.
She was that good, that fast: a deadly whisper in the night.
From a moaning heap of a man nearby, she swiped a sword and a dagger, twirling them deftly. ‘Who wants the price on my head?’ she taunted. ‘Come and get it.’
Three men rushed her, and Thea grinned.
