Page 114 of Death of the Glass Angel
Talon repressed the urge to respond. The voices had always sounded so real—as real as if they stood beside him. Why could no one else hear?
Was Des bathing in the glory of his anxious hesitation? Or did she fear rejection?
“So. . .” She finally broke the silence. “Are we going or not?”
“Gods. You’ll follow me anyway. Come on.”
Des stood straight and offered Talon her arm, inviting him to court. Dramatically sighing, Talon held his arm out for her to grasp as he led her across the street.
Gossip was not something cefra indulged in. What was there to chatter about? No, to hear rumors about Heras, they’d need a human-favored tavern. Flipping through a few establishments, Talon settled on one and guided Des toward it.
“If you die,” He said softly, “You’ve no one to blame but yourself.”
“I’d rather live my life than be safe.”
“Can’t exactly live if you’re dead.”
“You’d better protect me, then.”
Shaking his head, Talon paused outside the glowing windows of a lively tavern—packed. Perfect. Glancing up at the sign, he studied the painting of a woman’s generous bosom before smirking at Des and pulling the door open.
A rush of noise and music blew over them as they stepped inside and weaved through the crowd to find a seat. They managed to snag a pair of bar stools near the bard.
Des leaned in. “So, how do we do this?”
“We order a few drinks.” Talon hailed one of the bartenders. “Join a few games, and listen.” Setting a few coins on the table, he passedthem to the barkeep in exchange for two glasses of Altanese ale. “For the moment, we’ll enjoy a drink and feel out the crowd.”
Taking a glass, Des leaned her elbow on the bar. “Shame we didn’t get to dance at the last ball.” She nodded at the bard, a gray-haired man slamming his boot to the beat. “Shall we?”
A few drunken couples already occupied the dance floor. Figuring he could spare a couple of minutes, Talon drained his glass and offered her an arm. “This is Altanese dancing. Are you up for it?”
“Trust me.” She took his hand. “It’s perfect for me.”
Altanese dancing was fast-paced and sloppy. Partners competed playfully, trying to outdo each other’s moves. Des yanked her hair from its bun, letting her black locks fly free as she led him into a whirling dervish.
The world faded away, save for the music and her. Every time he’d pull her close, she’d slip his grip and dance away. It was like a game of cat and mouse, her grin growing wider with each escape.
Locking his arms around her, Talon pressed her back to his chest before lowering her into a dip. The bard strummed a final note, ending the song.
Pulling Des back up, Talon held her against him. “I think I won.” He whispered in her ear.
“How are you scoring it, exactly?” She twisted her neck to look up at him.
“It certainly feels like I won.”
Des turned away sharply. “Don’t we have work to do?”
“Unfortunately.” Talon slowly released her, trailing his hands down her arms and sides before stepping away. “See anyone you want to join?”
Des’s soft brown eyes darted around the room with palpable excitement. Talon caught himself smiling. She desperately wanted to be smooth, skilled, and in control.
Her inexperience was all too obvious to him, but he found her zeal terribly endearing.
The grin that washed over her face when she noticed a game of cards playing out behind them made him feel something else entirely.
Gods, she was beautiful. Not just because of her features. To have lived through unimaginable pain and emerged with her head held high. ..
Talon’s mind rushed back to her words in the alley. ‘Isn’tit obvious?’
