Page 40 of The Great and Terrible

There wasn’t a suggestive note in his voice, and yet I reacted as if he’d purred the words straight into my ear. Goose bumps spread over my limbs, inviting a warm flush to my skin. I…he…

Was Jasherflirtingwith me? No, no. Of course not. I was still reeling from the world’s sexiest embrace, that was all.

Not sure what else to do, but knowing I’d only get myself into trouble if I continued our conversation, I bumped my shoulder into his, and stated, “Okay, funny man, I withdraw the question.”

“So you do not wish to demonstrate on me? I learn by example.”

What thewhat?He did not just say that. Nope. He was teasing me for some reason.

Mercifully, he explained, “There is no fraternizing between a winner and her prisoner to prevent emotional attachment. Which happened in the past. A woman fell in love with a bounty hunter and set him free, intending to run off with him. He killed her and freed the others, and they burned the village to ash.”

What a brutal world this was.

From the left, a plump grandma type approached the dais holding a black bowl. From the right, a tall, willowy matron approached with a red one. Silence gripped the room as Mayor Leona drew a small piece of paper from both. “Kitty Higgenbothem, cage eleven! Congrats!”

More applause filled the airwaves. An older woman jumped up and down, clapping. Kitty, I presumed.

Other winners were chosen. But the more names that were called, the less enthusiastic the crowd became.

“Only one number remains.” Leona raised her hands and wriggled her fingers, then reached inside the black bowl to pull a name. When she squealed with happiness, any lingering excitement turned to frothing irritation. “Leona Narwood, cage eight!”

Silence. Then, “Cheater!” someone cried. “You won Drogan in the last lottery.”

“Now, ladies,” the mayor admonished, a teacher with unruly students. “You watched me make the draw. The odds of a back-to-back win aren’t great, but they aren’t impossible, either. You all saw me draw. How could I possibly con you?”

“You cheated,” someone insisted. “I demand a redraw!”

All hint of civility wiped from the mayor’s features. “You are maligning my character.” Fury crackled from her every pore. “That is a crime punishable by banishment. I suggest you tread carefully.”

When spectators stormed from the building, Jasher snaked an arm around my waist and tugged me in front of him, out of their path. He maintained his hold, as if I might bolt. Ha! I leaned into him, my will to resist clearly damaged. Perhaps beyond repair.

As we stood together, the most sublime heat enveloped me, bringing another hit of his incredible scent. My pulse fluttered. We waited, silent, time suspended, until the doorway cleared. As he led me out, I missed our closeness.

Once outside, we crossed the street to enter the only four story structure in the area. His boots thumped against the wooden floor as we approached a counter manned by a lovely woman with pale hair anchored in a bun. Liquor bottles filled the display shelves behind her. Lively piano music played, the perfect accompaniment to the wanted posters that decorated the walls. The same women who’d attended the lottery now occupied round tables spread out throughout the room. Some played cards, but all were tossing back drinks and laughing, even those not chosen in the lottery.

The wild west theme continued. Hello, saloon.

The moment the bartender noticed Jasher, she paled and looked down. “We’ve paid our taxes.”

What did royal guards do when peopledidn’tpay their taxes, hmm?

“I’m not here for that,” he responded.

Her lips slowly parted. “Jasher?”

Again with the uncertainty.

He gave a clipped nod. “Has Anders come through?”

“Not for about a month.”

His muscles bunched with disappointment. “Give me two rooms.”

The gal winced. “My rooms got snapped up earlier today so revenge lottery attendees could remain close to the jail.” She rested her elbows on the counter in a relaxed pose, and yet she remained tense. “There’s only one room available. It’s the honeymoon suite, so it’s triple the normal rate.”

One room, and the honeymoon suite, no less. “Told you,” I muttered.

Jasher worked his jaw, very careful not to glance my way as I smirked at him. “We’ll take it.” He threw a gold coin the blonde’s way, and she caught it.

---