She doesn’t doubt herself before she guesses this time. “You watch them before you play them.”
“Why shouldn’t I? They watch me.”
“Discerning, indeed.” Her head tilts. “Sounds a little like hunting.”
“Only a little?”
She laughs, and I find I love that sound. Love the way it makesher eyes dance, the way it brightens her smile. There’s so muchlifeto her that the world has been unable to snuff out… I’ll probably kill anyone else who tries. If Aiden doesn’t first.
“If you were hunting, how did you become the one that needed saving?” she asks, lightly teasing now. “How did you become prey?”
I look over her shoulder, catching the sight of a far-off rider flying closer. “I forgot who I was supposed to be hunting.”
“Its name is actuallyLast Chance? I thought you were joking.”
Cypress and I are stopped right outside the beginning of the town’s main street, both of us on horseback since we left the wagon in what Aiden declared to be a safe location a ways back. He took off again almost as soon as we’d stashed it, riding ahead to town so that he could make inquiries and so that no one would see all three of us arrive together. And so that Cypress would be the one stuck nannying me, since that’s apparently what Aiden thinks I need.
“I believe the name was given because this is one of the last places to supply before people travel farther north,” Cypress says before his brow furrows. “Although they might also simply be trying to set expectations.”
He clicks his tongue at Cerberus, urging him forward into the sparse throng of people on the street, the number growing as we make our way into town, and I immediately understand why peoplewatchhim when he appears. I’m having trouble notdoing the same.
While Aiden tends to ride with an air of comfort that speaks to countless hours in the saddle, Cypress rides like a conquering king returning from a successful campaign. His black clothing catching in the sun, his back straight, and his head held high as Cerberus struts beneath him. He’s gorgeous, so much so that I don’t blame a single person who turns to look in his direction with obvious awe.
But then their eyes land on me, and based on their frowns, I realize how we must look together. Slowly, I hold Tess farther and farther back until Cypress notices and draws up to wait for me.
“Maybe I should have stayed with the wagon,” I tell him when we come even again. “Might have been better.”
“In what way?” he asks, appearing genuinely unsure. “Are you nervous to be in town? We can go back. Wait for Aiden to tell us if his contacts have any news.”
“No, no,” I reassure him, following him when he starts to lead us toward a nearby hitching post. He gets down first, secures both horses, and I glance around to see who is still looking when he reaches up to help me down as well.
“I only remember you saying you usually come into town alone,” I reply as he gently takes my waist, and I can feel the rapidly blooming color in my face telling my secrets. “That it helps with your, um…hunting.”
He settles me on the ground, only to guide my arm through his as we step up onto the sidewalk planks. “Don’t concern yourself about that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a very versatile hunter, little bird,” he says, nodding politely at someone who walks by in the opposite direction before he grins. “Besides, having you here will likely bring others closer to my trap.”
“Only so they can try to work it out for themselves,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“Cora?” Cypress asks, noticing my growing unease. “What’s upsetting you?”
I sigh, frustrated with myself for not holding my tongue while also wishing I could avoid this topic all together. Suddenly running away as Aiden does seems mighty tempting, but since his partner still has my arm captive in his, I’m not sure that’s an option.
“People are staring at us,” I point out to Cypress, not able to meet his eyes. “With you looking like you do, and me looking like…”
His steps start to slow slightly, until he stops entirely. “Does it bother you how I look?”
My head whips his direction so fast that I nearly injure myself. “Howyoulook?”
“I know the scars…”
The scars.It had never occurred to me that he might think I see them in a negative light. Not when they are a feature on a face I so like to admire. The same as his clever eyes and his mischievous smile, they are simply…him.
“No, I didn’t mean—I think you’re beautiful, Cy. I meantme.”
The temporary concern in his eyes vanishes, giving way to that very smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”