Page 17 of Immortal Sentry

Kene stepped into the middle of the road, face covered except for eyes, nose, and mouth, without a sign of her rapier or knives. She could draw either in the blink of an eye. The carriage squeaked to a halt.

“Stand aside,” the driver ordered. “By order of the king.”

Kene pretended to examine her cuffs, deepening her voice. Even to Eron, who knew better, she sounded decidedly male, with a rich baritone. “King? I see no king here.”

“We are on the king’s business. I demand that you let us pass,” the driver insisted. Poor blighter mustn’t have heard that unescorted coaches in the forest were considered fair game.

As Kene trod carefully forward, Eron braced to jump. The moment Kene had the horses under control, Eron launched himself, landing on the carriage roof. The horses startled, neighing and rearing, but the carriage only rolled a few paces. That ought to shake the rich nobles’ composure.

In a flash, Kene climbed into the driver’s box, sword extended. Eron dropped to the ground and flung open the carriage door, dancing out of range in case either of the men inside fought back.When nothing happened, he entered the carriage, sword at the ready.

Davin lay across one seat, hair in disarray and lightly panting. His lips were kiss swollen—or perhaps swollen for other reasons. The Duke of Whatever in the other seat fumbled with his breeches, breathing hard.

Having a family reunion, were they? Or perhaps they weren’t uncle and nephew after all. Eron certainly hoped not. “I could likely win more coin from your duchess for news of this little incident than I will by robbing you.” There had to be a duchess. Pompous lords who paraded around with convenient outlets for their lusts always seemed to have a wife at home.

Eron held out his hand, waggling his fingers. “Now, give over. Your pouch, if you please.”

“Now see here you—”

“Youwhat?” Kene asked, opening the other door. The mask made her grin far more sinister, as did her icy eyes. “Your money, if you please. And anything else you have of value. Come now. Neither of us has all day.”

The duke quickly handed over his extremely light pouch. No one visited the king with so little.

“Now, the other one.” Kene moved her blade closer to the duke’s throat.

The duke gulped, then reached beneath his ample ass to extract another, much thicker pouch.

Kene hefted it. “That’s more like it.” She turned her attention toward Eron. “Now, kind sir, you take the young one, I’ll take the old man, but you’ll owe me.” Kene winked.

Those crystal blue eyes would be a giveaway were they ever caught, if not for one-third of northerners sporting the same.

“Wha… what do you plan to do with us?” Davin asked after several mis-starts.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. But you’d like that, too, wouldn’t you? Ravished by a lawless highwayman.” Eron stroked his gloved fingers over Davin’s cheek, eliciting a shiver. Oh, yes. If only Eron had more time, he’d make this beauty his.

If only for a few hours.

Davin’s pupils dilated, and Eron knew he would fantasize about exactly what Eron said once he recovered from the shock of this encounter.

Eron took the rope Kene offered, tying Davin with way more touching than necessary. What a pity. They could’ve had such fun. “I would kiss you if I didn’t know where your mouth has been.” Eron glanced at the duke, now firmly tied. “A word of advice,” he told Davin, “find yourself a better protector. You’d certainly find me more to your liking.”

Eron hopped from the coach to the sounds of the duke’s curses. The driver lay on his side in the road, tied and gagged.

Kene and Eron took their leave, heading for the stream and their cave. They’d be well on their way to the tavern by the time the men untied themselves, giving Simona a portion of their takings to be distributed among the villagers. If anyone asked, yes, Kene and Eron stayed in her inn. No, they hadn’t left all day, instead spending time in the public room, drinking and playing cards.

While Davin dreamed of a dashing thief tonight, Eron looked forward to dreaming of Davin.

A gargoyle filled his dreams instead.

Chapter Seven

They returned to Kene’s estate after several days’ absence, where Eron amused himself by flirting with a new footman who wandered into the room once too often for coincidence.

Eron intercepted him the next time, trapping him with one arm against the wall and his body angled to allow passage—if the footman wanted to get away—putting his mouth close enough that his breath wafted over the man’s neck. “Did you miss me while I was gone?” Not that they’d known each other long enough for tender feelings to develop.

The footman gave a coy smile, casting his gaze down. “I felt strangely empty in your absence.”

Ah, promising. Eron brushed his lips against the footman’s stubbled jaw. “Let’s remedy that. Are you ready to welcome me home?”

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