Page 35 of Rogue Elves of Ardani

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He suppressed another groan and rolled back toward the wall to hide his obvious arousal. It wasn’t going away. “No,” he grunted. Still facing the wall, he stood and wrapped his cloak around himself, then went to the window. He opened it and started to climb out.

“Where are you going?” Crow asked suspiciously.

“To relieve myself. Is that permissible, mistress? Would you like to supervise?”

She frowned. “Don’t call me that.”

He started to climb out the window, then paused again. “Is there an outhouse?”

“Around the corner, at the side of the building. But if anyone sees you—”

“No one will see me,” he muttered, and climbed down.

He located the outhouse and hid himself inside, slamming the door behind him. He took himself in hand and, because it was regrettably the freshest visual material on hand, thought of Crow. The angle of her sly smile, the sultry darkness of her eyes, her narrow, clever fingers, the faint curve of her breasts under her tunic.

He was imagining what she would look like naked when it occurred to him that she could read his mind and extract this memory from him in the future. She’d doubtless be able to see exactly what he’d been doing and what he’d been thinking about.

He was so annoyed that he almost stopped and went back to the room unsatisfied out of pure spite.

But that would be just what she wanted, wouldn’t it?

Serves you right for rummaging around in my head, asshole,he thought loudly, just in case she might be listening at some time in the future.

He pictured her beneath him—in ecstasy, not annoyed and vaguely threatening like she’d been in the dream, like she always was in reality. He imagined her gasping his name.

She really was beautiful.

He began to think that maybe he was being unfair to her. She wasn’t that bad, all things considered. And she was only half human, which must have been only half as bad as an ordinary human.

Then he finished and stepped out of the outhouse, and didn’t know what in the hells he’d been thinking. Of course she wasthat bad.

* * *

As they left the village,Vaara looked over his shoulder frequently—not that he could see much with the sun blinding him.

Crow had found—stole, probably—a pair of gloves and a scarf for him, and when he kept his hood up, his race was hidden. Not that an outfit like that wouldn’t garner some suspicious looks on its own.

But he was still unarmed. If anyone attacked them, he’d have no viable option but to flee.

“You’re going to have to get me a weapon if you want me to kill somebody,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the scarf.

“I know,” Crow said. “We’ll find you one in Valtos.”

“Sooner would be better.”

“Do you see any blacksmiths around?”

He didn’t care where she found one, as long as she found one soon. He’d have felt ten times more secure with a weapon in his hands. Right now, with nothing to defend himself with, he had little more power than he’d had back in his cell.

“Is there… anything else you want?” Crow asked tentatively.

He eyed her. “What?”

“I don’t know. Anything… special? Anything you’ve been missing? You were stuck in that place for a long time, and...”

She must have sensed his disgust with her, because she frowned a little and looked away, staring straight ahead instead.

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