Page 15 of Held

Briar toyed with the amulet using the hand that wasn’t turning the spit. “Speaking of control. What’s with yourblood frenzy, anyway? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Then you are like all else I have spoken to,” Wick said. “I have memories of fighting. My brother insists they’re dreams; he says any wars Skullstalkers fought were won long before we were born.”

Briar had no knowledge ofanywars involving Skullstalkers. She didn’t know Skullstalkers dreamed. She didn’t know Skullstalkers had siblings. It was an oddly cute idea.

“Your brother?”

“Slate,” Wick explained. “Mortals know him as the Bygone. He rules the wanderer’s void.”

Briar hadn’t been warned of the Bygone since she lived on the other side of the country. As far as she knew, he was a fairy story to stop travelers from stepping off forest paths.

Wick sighed, his tail flicking distractedly behind him. “I wish I could speak with him. He could get us to your witch’s place with a portal.”

“A portal,” Briar repeated. “Since when can Skullstalkers make portals?”

“He is very old and very powerful,” Wick replied. He gripped his tail, stroking it absentmindedly. “I am not good at magic. Only killing.”

He sounded sad about it. He was obviously trying to hide it, but Briar was well-versed in seeing past the emotional facades of men. Even if they were Skullstalker men. And Wick was surprisingly easy to read, for someone who had a motionless skull for half his face. His fiery eyes narrowed and contracted, his wings and tail twitched, and his body language might as well have been verbal for how helpful it was in spelling out how he was feeling.

Which, as far as Briar could tell, was deeply awkward.

Briar leaned over the campfire to pat his arm. “Well, at least you feel bad about it.”

Wick blinked at her hand. Briar leaned back and continued turning the spit, ignoring how her hand was tingling. She’d spent a long time pressed up against this monster, never mind that she was unconscious for most of it. There was no reason for the thrill that ran through her at the feel of his cool skin.

“So,” she said. “Say this works. My friend lifts your blood curse using whatever magic she used to fuel my protection necklace. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Wick admitted. “It is not as if I can live in a town. Mortals do not like Skullstalkers, and I am not suited to crowds. I suppose I would find somewhere quiet, like I always do. But I would venture wherever I wished and know that I would only attack if I wished it.”

You would have to attack everywhere you went,Briar thought to herself.People would ambush you on sight.

Still, it was an admirable ambition. It was actually shockingly close to hers, if she thought about it.

“That sounds peaceful,” she admitted.

“That is all I want,” Wick replied. “Peace.”

He tipped his head up to the sky. Watching the birds, Briar thought. Or maybe watching the sunlight through the branches.

Do not get attached to the Skullstalker,Briar told herself sternly. She had been very good at not getting attached. It only brought pain and regret. She was not going to break a good streak just because some monster wanted to settle down sometime.

She pulled up a lazy grin. “So, what, you’d buy a little cottage somewhere?”

“What? No. I only need my nest. Ideally, in a cave, or somewhere else secluded.” Wick paused, cocking his head at a bird flying above the trees. “But perhaps a nest near a waterfall.”

Do not get attached, Briar hissed to herself, even louder than last time.

She eased the rabbit off the spit and examined the hot flesh. “Maybe I can come and visit you when I’m rich!”

Wick looked surprised. “I would enjoy that. I… I have never had a friend before. Except my brother, I suppose.”

Briar stopped, her mouth snapping shut before she could bite into the rabbit. She moved it out of the way to stare at him.

“You want to be friends,” she said, only managing to make it sound funny on the last words, “With lil ol’ me?”

“I do,” said Wick.

As if it were that easy. As if Briar wasn’t a husk of empty smiles wrapped in a lot of charm. As if she would ever be friends with someone who could kill her so easily. But his face was so damn earnest she actually had to hide how touched she was.

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