Page 18 of Queen of the Night
Darvy interrupts me with a friendly shoulder bump, pulling me from the downward spiral. “You appeared so comfortable on the sharp flyer that I almost don’t believe Ikar’s story.” His eyes are light with humor, and I know he’s trying to help me relax. For a man who appears a somewhat lightheartedrogue, there’s an intuitive depth behind his green eyes that I can’t deny.
“Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes. Ikar, unfortunately, didnotleave out the fact that I almost sabotaged his rescue and escape attempt by refusing to board the creature until the shift king was almost upon us when he retold it at dinner the other night. “Ikar exaggerated, I’ll have you know.”
Darvy chuckles. “I’m sure.”
He doesn’t believe me one bit. Ikar isn’t prone to humorous dramatics like Darvy is, and we both know it.
“Cheer up, Vera. You’re going on a fantastical journey with three strapping soldiers,” he says, tossing his knife into the air and catching it with a bit too much swagger in his stride.
“None of you are merelysoldiers,” I remind him blandly while eyeing Ikar’s broad shoulders, trim waist, and long legs with attempted disdain.
For a moment Darvy’s eyes widen in surprise, like I’ve learned something I shouldn’t have.
I quirk a brow. “What? You’re all officers, aren’t you?”
His quick smile is back. “Oh, right. Yes, of course. But that’s even better.” He raises his eyebrows twice in quick succession.
“No, it’s not.”
I see when his expression turns from teasing to genuinely curious. “What is it, then? I thought this is what youdo. You’re a bounty hunter. Adventuress extraordinaire.”
I snort. “You do know I hardly know how to use this, right?” I pat my sword. I’m no delicate flower, but I’m also not going to pretend I can hold any sort of weight in a battle.
“Like I said, strapping soldiers.”
Darvy’s smile is infectious, and my lips can’t help but turn up. “My correct title is much closer to hunterassistant. And it’s what I’vehadto do, not always because I wanted to. AllI’m saying is don’t depend on me to save you from a deathstalker.”
He cuts away some foliage to better clear our path and presses more of it aside while I step past a particularly thick section. I quietly thank him as I pass, hoping he’ll let the matter drop.
He smirks. “Lend us lucent and you won’t need to.” With another flip of his knife, it’s expertly sheathed. “Why did you contract for this job? It sounds like you don’t feel you’re qualified.”
I curse inwardly. I didn’t intend to sow doubt in my abilities. “I’m more than qualified to share lucent. I can send you as much as you want.”
He has no idea how true it is.
“The pendulum swung from under- to overconfident.” His eyes are still light with teasing, like he doesn’t believe me but knows I can do enough.
I shrug. That’s better anyway. “I’ll show you when I need to.”
He leans in a little and whispers. “Careful, or Ikar will want to hire you on permanently.”
We both know Ikar can hear it, but there’s no indication in his posture or stride that shows he intends to answer.
“You evaded my question,” Darvy reminds me.
“Which one?”
“Why’d you contract for this journey?”
“I want to be free, and to be free I need money.” I’m unable to keep a bit of weariness from coloring my tone.
“Free from what?”
I struggle to come up with a response. The conversation went from light to deep in half a second, and I’m kicking myself for my choice of words. I’ll have to be more careful aroundDarvy; it seems he has a way of tricking people into getting personal—fast.
“What Imeantis that I want to retire.”
Darvy laughs. “You’re all of what…twentyyears old?”
