Read Online Knight Awakened by Coreene Callahan - Free Book Online

baffling. He was a hard man, an intelligent one not given to flights of fancy. How was she able to tie him in knots when naught else did? The answer escaped him, but self-preservation warned he needed to get whatever ailed him under control...now, before he lost himself in hazel eyes flecked with green and gold.
    “Aye,” he said, shaking vulnerability off like a wet dog did water, “but the lesson will be learned and not easily forgotten.”
    “Tonight then...when all is quiet.” Cristobal rubbed against the rough bark, chasing an itch.
    “More likely on the morrow, at the bazaar.”
    “She knows we are stopping there before heading into the mountains?”
    “Aye.”
    Xavian had made sure of it. Had told Qabil to let their destination slip in an attempt to stall her escape and keep her out of the woods. He didn’t want her running through swamps, tangling with dense underbrush and the assortment of wildlife that called them home. Hell, he wanted to teach her caution, not kill her.
    “So while you play shadow, we will gather what we need.”
    Straightened away from his knees, Xavian rolled his shoulders, stretching stiff muscles. “Take only what we require to get through the winter. And only from those who can afford to have their carts and purses lightened.”
    Cristobal snorted. “Assassins with a conscience.”
    “Ex-assassins,” he said, well aware of the inherent duplicity in his plan. He wanted a new life, one built on integrity, not theft. But with Afina in the fold, the promise of Vladimir’s coin dried up along with the ability to buy provisions for Drachaven. His newfound standards would have to wait. The lads in his care needed to eat this winter along with everyone else in his new keep.
    “
Ex
...past tense,” Cristobal murmured, the low rumble of his voice tinged with more than simple agreement.
    He glanced sideways at his friend, recognizing the emotion in his tone. Xavian felt it too. Gratefulness. A profound sense of gratitude mere words could never express.
    With a slow indrawn breath, Xavian tipped his head back, searching for solace in the give and take of the oak’s great canopy. Tree limbs swayed, their gentle murmur a cozy haven for the birds above. They chattered, talking to one another just as the silence engulfing him and Cristobal spoke, telling stories, reminding them both of what had been.
    After a time, the painful hush grew too great, and Xavian broke through the quiet. “’Twill be on the morrow. She’s quick and will use the crowded marketplace to cover her tracks.”
    “Mayhap.” Cristobal cleared his throat then raised a brow. “Care to wager?”
    “’Tisn’t a game, my friend,” he said, his voice soft with warning. His comrade’s gaze narrowed on him, no doubt wondering why he refused to take the bet. He and Cristobal always wagered. ’Twas their habit, one they both enjoyed, but Xavian didn’t want to play this time. It didn’t sit well with him. He disliked making sport of Afina, trivializing what would cause her pain. “She will suffer before she accepts us and her new life.”
    Cristobal’s brow rose a fraction, his silence as deafening as the clash of wooden swords in front of them. Unease pricked Xavian’s spine, senses honed by years of stealth and death balking at the thorough examination. He understood the calculated hush well. His friend wanted an explanation—wished to know why he cared about Afina’s feelings. He stayed silent. How could he explain what he didn’t understand himself?
    His friend straightened away from the oak. “I will inform everyone of the plan.”
    “Cristobal.” He glanced away from the basswood block and met his friend’s gaze. “Stay sharp. The closer we come to Drachaven, the greater the danger.”
    Cristobal cursed. “Halál.”
    “Aye. He’s sent two, and failed twice.”
    Frowning, Xavian turned the figurine over in his hand and cut the outline of a leg along its flank. A canny old goat, Halál had the