Page 5 of Kept to Kill
‘Have her taken to my tent,’ he ordered, ‘but don’t touch her any more than necessary and keep a guard on her until I arrive.’
With that, he turned on his heel and left, having no interest in the affairs of the tent. Some of the women, the ones who enjoyed being there, tried to entice him, but he ignored their efforts, exiting into the winter sunshine and finally feeling like he could breathe again.
He meant to meander, make the bitch wait upon him, let her mind twist and turn as it mulled over why she’d been taken to the Commander’s tent. She should be scared. He’d have to make an example of her, after all. That was part of being the leader of the Brothers, a position he’d only held for a few weeks yet had worked towards all his life.
He was anticipating seeing her again and that annoyed him. He was usually a patient man, content to work quietly in the shadows to further his own agenda. So why was it that as soon as he’d mether, he couldn’t help but want to be in her presence once more?
He found himself outside his tent already and sighed, conscious of the eyes that ever watched him. Anonymity was gone. That was the thing he disliked most, that and the tedious, never-ending politics.
He walked in as if he’d been planning to come straight here all along. His eyes found her immediately. She was standing in the middle, by the main beam that held up the high-top. Two guards stood close by, staring at her. She was staring back at them, the wisp of a smile on her face. Odd, but at least the maniacal laughter had stopped. He’d never admit it aloud, but the sight of her lying on that bed laughing with the bodies around her was not something he’d soon forget – and not all of what he felt was horror.
He waved the guards out. He could deal with some slip of a girl himself, that was certain. He grabbed a drink and sat at the Commander’s great desk. His desk now. And he watched her in silence. In his experience, women always tried to fill the quiet with talk. His mother had been the same. He’d loved her dearly, but gods, she’d talked.
But this one didn’t. She stared at him for a while and then, to his surprise, her eyes left him as she moved around the tent, looking at his possessions,touchinghis things. Not only did she ignore him, she turned her back to him. The girl was either very brave or very, very foolish. One did not take their eyes off a predator, and one certainly did not turn their back on one.
Deciding to teach her the first of many lessons, he moved out of his chair and stalked towards her in complete silence. Nothing gave him away, not a creak of the chair, not a shuffle of his boot on the thick woven floor nor on the thick furs as he moved across them.
‘You shouldn’t do that,’ she murmured, not even deigning to turn around.
How had she known? Most of his best skills lay in stealth. He was sure he’d not made a sound to alert her.
‘Don’t feel bad.’ She turned to him, her eyes fastening on his. ‘I’m very good at knowing where everyone is in a room.’
He raised a brow. ‘One of the detriments of being Vineri’s woman?’
She canted her head. ‘You said that before, in the tower. What makes you think I was his woman?’
He gestured to her dress. Slaves didn’t wear silk, nor the latest fashions from the north.
‘Ah, yes.’ She looked down at herself, frowning. ‘Well, you are right, I was his, but not in the way you think.’
‘Go on.’
‘I was merely an item in his Collection. He kept me separate from it, but part of it I was.’
‘You?’ Quin asked incredulously.
‘I’ve killed three of your men. Two were full Brothers. Do you doubt it?’
‘How?’
She looked away from him as if ashamed. ‘My touch is death. It’s a curse I’ve borne most of my life.’
Quin almost laughed at the absurdity. Did she think to save herself from the pleasure tents by telling outlandish lies? ‘And what do you hope to gain by telling me this?’
‘If you were wise, you’d take me back to the tower and lock me in.’
He went back to his desk and sat down, taking his goblet in his hand. ‘Vineri’s fortress is to be destroyed once we’ve stripped it bare. There won’t be a tower to imprison you in.’
So many emotions flashed across her face that he found himself riveted. Shock, sadness, desperation, fear, hope. She was an open book to him. She couldn’t hide her feelings at all. How long had it been since he’d met such a person?
‘Then,’ she looked into his eyes and stepped closer, ‘you should kill me.’
‘You wish for death?’
‘Not really. Sometimes,’ she said truthfully, shocking him. ‘But I’m a danger. You should do it.’
‘Oh, I will.’ He took a swig of his wine and was gratified to see her wince. She wasn’t as unaffected by her situation as she seemed. ‘But I think I’ll make you suffer for what you did to my men first.’
