“I like a bit more privacy,” I purred up at him as Xiver scowled, rubbing my hands up and down his chest to soften the insult.
Xiver glanced over his shoulder at his gaping roommate, who was sitting on his cot, eyes wide as he watched us. “What, you mean Wilton?” He laughed. “I planned on giving him a show. The way he blushes every time he sees you two in the mess hall, I figure he needs a crash course on how to handle a woman.”
I arched a brow. “Before we do that, I need to make sure you can handle me.” I pressed my tongue between my teeth as I grinned up at him. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friend if I prove to be too much for you.”
Xiver’s upper lip curled. “I’ve never met a woman I couldn’t handle, but if you insist.” His hands were around my waist, and I turned my yelp of outrage into a girly squeal as he hauled me over his shoulder and carried me up the creaky stairs to his room. “Hang tight, Wilton!” he called down the stairs to his roommate. “As soon as I’m done with the shifter, you can have her next.”
We entered the small upstairs room, which was barely big enough to hold the cot and dresser in it. Xiver didn’t bother with a light – the window in his room was one of the few in this town that was still intact, and moonlight washed over the space. He tossed me unceremoniously onto the hard bed, and I considered kneeing him in the balls. But I didn’t need his roommate running up here to see what all the crying was about.
“Strip,” he ordered, his fingers moving to his belt.
I sat up and pretended to fumble with the buttons on my shirt. “I think I need some help,” I said with a shy smile. “It’s hard to see in the dark.” I spread my legs apart, inviting him to step between them and giving him a hint of what he thought was coming.
His dark eyes gleamed with hunger, and he stepped between my legs without hesitation. As soon as he was close, I clamped my thighs around his hips, then drew him into my embrace and whispered the same Word I’d used on the soldier guarding the mineshaft. Xiver’s body stiffened as the magic washed over him, and then every single muscle in his body relaxed as he slipped into a deep sleep.
“We’ve got him,” I told Fenris as Xiver’s forehead knocked against my shoulder and a loud snore erupted from him. “Now come help me get him out of here before I change my mind and kill him after all.”
With our bags packed and a heavy, unconscious Xiver slung over our shoulders, Annia, Fenris, and I snuck out of the camp, heading back into the forest. Fenris and Annia carried him while I forged ahead, making liberal use of the sleeping spell Fenris had taught me on the few guards who were on night watch. I’d knocked out Xiver’s roommate the same way – since we weren’t planning on coming back until after we’d rescued Iannis, there was no longer any point in trying to hide my magic.
We trekked several miles into the forest before we decided we were far enough away that we could interrogate Xiver without interruption. My nose detected no scouting parties in the area, so we tied Xiver to a tree, and I delivered a good, hard slap across his face to wake him up. After the way he’d manhandled me, it felt good.
“Oww!” Xiver’s eyes popped open, and he jerked, likely wanting to clap his hand across his stinging cheek. When he realized his arms weren’t moving, he looked down at himself, and his eyes bulged as he realized he was strapped to a tree. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Aww, does little Xiver not like being tied up?” I crooned. “I bet the delegates down in that mineshaft feel the same way.”
His eyes narrowed. “So Captain Milios was right! You three are traitors.”
“You’re the traitor,” Fenris growled, taking a step forward. “You and the band of renegades you run around with, terrorizing good, innocent people in the name of justice.”
“Those filthy mages we’ve got down in the mines aren’t good or innocent,” Xiver sneered. “They’re part of the institution that oppresses us. What the fuck did they bribe you three with to get you on their side? You’re all shifters and humans, the same as us. You should be helping us, not them.”
“Thanks for the speech, but we’re not interested,” Annia interjected. “We brought you out here because you seem to be the only one who knows what happened to the Chief Mage, and I intend to drag his ass back to Solantha so I can cash in on the big pile of gold the government’s put up as a reward. Now would be a good time to tell us what you know, before we disfigure something of yours.” She pulled a knife from the sheath at her side and tested the point with her thumb.
“Like I’d help a gold-digging whore like you.” Xiver spat at her feet, narrowly missing Annia’s boots.
I cracked my palm across Xiver’s face again, and his head snapped to the side. “You might want to use better manners on my friend. She’s pretty good with that knife.”
“I’m not scared of a little pain,” Xiver snarled. The fear gleaming in his eyes told a different story, but I had to admire him a little for his refusal to give in. “You bitches probably don’t even know how to use a blade outside the kitchen anyway.”
The knife in Annia’s hand landed with a thunk to the right of Xiver’s head, slicing off a lock of his inky hair as it buried itself into the tree trunk. Xiver’s face paled, and I snickered.
“I’ve got more of these,” Annia warned, pulling another knife from her boot. As she straightened, the blade gleaming in her right hand, she pretended to yawn. “It’s kinda late though, and I’m getting pretty tired, so my aim might not be the best—”