A Sinister Game (22 page)

Anders was very smart. It was a touch
unnerving.

Victoria
was saved from having to say anything when
the serving “we
nch” sidled up to the table
and placed a dish
full of food and a mug full of ale in front of Victoria.

“Here you are, miss. That’ll fill you up right nice.” She turned to Anders. “Anything for you, sir?”
s
he asked. Her voice carried an accent that Victoria had never heard.

Anders
shook his head, waving her away.

The f
ood on the plate in front of Victoria smelled divine. It smelled b
etter than anything she’d ever caught a whiff
of
on the Field. She stared down at the meal. There was a baked potato, still in its skin but split open, and atop it was some kind of gravy. The gravy was thick and creamy
looking, and covered both the potato and the sliced, juicy meat beside it. There was some kind of vegetable there as well, which seemed to have been roasted. Instead of each item being compartmentalized in portion-appropriate division platters, as she was used to, it all ran together.

And it looked
so
good like that.

She picked up her fork.
The prongs on the fork were
roughly hewn
,
and there were three as opposed to the four she was used to. The knife beside it was also roughly shaped, seemingly sharpened using some kind of scraping technique, if the scratches down its length were any indication.

“Fascinating, is it?”

She jumped a little and looked up. “What?”

“You’re staring at the cutlery. I take it you do use these items where you’re from?”

Victoria
smiled, a little embarrassed. “We do, but they’re different.”

With a touch of regret,
she began cutting into the mea
t. She didn’t normally eat meat. She’d never liked the way it tasted, a
nd she’d grown too fond of the wolves on the Field to appreciate the thought of eating animals
.

But r
ight now, she was very hungry – a
nd this smelled very good.

She
forked a piece of gravy-covered meat and stuffed it into her mouth.

It tasted as good as it smelled. She couldn’t help
an
eye
roll of pleasure
,
as she started
eating the meal with genuine gusto.

Anders was polite enough not to mention the speed with which she downed her dinner. He said nothing as she ate. He just sat there and watched her in silence, smiling a small, pleased smile as she finished each bite off with a few swallows of her ale.

When she
finished, she placed the knife and fork across the plate and licked her lips, picking up her goblet for a final drink.

“Better?” Anders finally asked.

Victoria nodde
d.

“Good. Now, here.” Anders
set a small leather pouch on the table in
front of Victoria. “It’s enough mo
ney to pay for a room tonight
and breakfast in the morn. I wouldn’t argue if I were you, little one, as I can see you’ve no money on you.” He nudged it toward her. “Take it.”

Victoria truly didn’t know what to think of this. “Why would you do this?”
s
he asked.

“It’s my right, litt
le one. You’re a woman in need,
and I am a man who can provide. Take it and think no more on it.” He rose then, drawing to his full height with the effect of a mountain growing from a chair. “I’ll see that you get to your room safely and I’ll bid you goodnight.”

Victoria gazed up at the stranger before her.
He looks like a god
, she thought, bewildered. She
recalled stories Simon had told them all of ancient gods and goddesses, figures from fantasy and history that he’d read about in his plethora of books. The man before her now fit the profile
of one of those ancient figures
perfectly.

Victoria felt a little
overwhelmed. She was
blissfully
full and
inordinately
tired and
very
confused about where she was and what the hell she was going to do
next
.

It was hard to make sense of all that had happened to her over the last few days. In the end, she really didn’t have the means, or the reason, to argue. If he wanted to help, she would accept.

She nodded,
closing her eyes and looking down as she said, “Thank you.”

It took them a f
ew minutes to secure a room.
Victoria had to endure a few strange glances from the tavern keeper, or “
inn keep
,” as Anders
had
called him. But once Anders gave the man a warning glare, the
inn keep
tended
to their transaction with quick efficiency.

Anders walked her
upstairs the
door
of the room she’d rented,
opened it for her, scanned the room beyond, and then gestured
for her to enter
.
It
seemed strange to Victoria that he was so cautious, but she reminded herself that this was a different world,
and
she had no idea what most people were like or could expect.

He waited outside the door
as Victoria
turned on the threshold to thank him one last time.

“Think nothing of it. Get some sleep. I’ll have someone bring you a change of clothing in the morning.”

Victoria glanced down at the downtime uniform she wore.

“Whoever you are running from will no doubt question those he comes ac
ross,” Anders explained
. “A physical description of you will be the first thing to leave his lips. So,” he smiled, “you’ll want to fit in.”

“Anders…
.
” She looked down,
licking her lips before she went on.
She’d never before been at someone else’s mercy for the basic necessities. It was uncomfortable to her, but the stranger’s generosity also touched her warmly. It gave her hope.
“Anders, I can’t thank you enough
for all you’ve done
. I don’t know why you’ve helped
me, but you’ve been kind, and I’
m very grateful.”

Anders smiled and shook his head
. “As I said little one, it is my right.” His eye caught sight of something near her neck. “That is a lovely pendant. Family heirloom?” he asked.

Victoria looked down. Her gold locket shimmered in the flickering light of the candles set into sconces along the wall. It must have come out from under her shirt while she was running. “I…” Family heirloom? Something niggled at her memory.

Suddenly antsy, Victoria slipped the necklace back under her jacket and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Anders’ eyes shone. “I see,” he said, smiling easily. “Good night little one.” He turned and headed back down the hall, leaving her alone.

Victoria
closed the
door and bolted it shut. S
he turned
to
the roo
m’s interior and took it all in: One bed, one dresser, o
n
e window,
and
a
rocking chair.
T
hat was it.

She yawned and pulled off her leather uniform jacket.

That’s good enough for me.

* * * *

Max watched the large man leave the tavern. He finished off the drink that was in front of him and then concentrated on the two coins a patron down the bar had left on the counter before leaving the i
nn. It was exactly how much Max himself
would need t
o pay for his own drink
.

When the barkeep wasn’t looking, and he was certain that no one else in the tavern would no
tice either
, Max telekinesed the coins into his palm.
Then he plopped them onto the table loud enough to get the keep’s attention and pushed away from the bar. The barkeep turned and nodded toward him, bidding him a wordless good night.

Max left the tavern, walked around the building to the alley between the tavern and what appeared to be a neighboring shop of some kind, and waited as his form melted from the rather scrawny appearance of a blonde man in
the
village clothing
of a blacksmith’s apprentice
to the tall, well-built team captain that he was.

Then he turned and looked up at the second
floor window above him. Candlelight flickered behind thin, gauzy windows. The slim form of a woman moved in front of the dancing light, casting an erotic shadow across the curtains as she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Max’s blue eyes lightened into glowing ice.

It was Victoria’s room. Max had spent the last hour watching h
er flirt with another man. K
nowing that she was up there now, alone and undressed
,
did not hamper the dark mood he was in.

For the second time that night, Maxwell Blood willed himself into invisibility.
Next, he used
another of his powers to
move with blurring
speed through the tavern and up the stairs just before the innkeeper closed and locked the doors for the night.

While the man downstairs was busy shuttering the windows, Max knocked lightly on Victoria’s door.
She gasped softly from beyond, no doubt surprised and wary about the unexpected interruption.

He listened as she
moved around hastily, most likely rushing
to find something to cover herself with. And then she was at the door, her ear pressed up against it. He could tell that much.

“Who is it?”
s
he finall
y asked
.

Max opened his mouth to respond, but at the very last moment, he paused, reconsidering. Slowly, he closed his mouth again, and a strange smile curled the corners of his lips.

Instead of responding, h
e
lightly rapped again.

Victoria was a very smart woman
. On the Field,
Max had always been awed by the skill with which she str
ategized her team’s next moves and was able to
accurately predict their opponents’ moves as well. However, at the moment she was not herself.

Perhaps it was the meal. Maybe it was her mad-dash run through the forest and fields beyond the Mare’s shore.

Or
maybe
it was Max’s
d
ark infl
uence from his side of
the door, where he sent a hard weariness coursing through his team leader’s veins, forcing a befuddlement into her tired mind and willfully erasing any lick of sense she’d formerly possessed.

When she
thoughtlessly opened the door to peek outside, he knew he’d been successful in his attempt to
partially
control her.

Victoria had wrapped the sheet from the bed around her otherwise naked form. Max almost lost control of his invisibility when his glacial gaze was met with the creamy skin of her shoulders and the long, lean leg that peeked out from between the two ends of the white coverlet she
so tightly
fist
ed
.

She looked left and right, and not seeing anyone standing there, she sighed, rubbed her eyes with her free hand, and shut the door once more, slamming the bolt home with great, frustrated force.

“I must be losing it,” she whispered to herself.

Max’s strange smile broadened into something wicked
.

Victoria strode to the bed and dropped the sheet.

Max’s
entire
body went rigid. Every muscle
in his tall form flexed to the point of pain. His
hands curled into fists
at his sides
. He forced one of them open and ran it through his
thick brown
hair, grasping a bunch of it at the roots because he had nothing else to hold on to.
And the pain had a centering effect.

She was breathtaking. The
candlelight
caused her skin to glow like warmed honey and crushed gold
.
She was under the effects of his power, tired beyond real reason. So she left her clothing and her sheet at the foot of her bed and
crawled across it to finally
lie
down on her stomach at its center. What Max wanted to do in that moment
was shameful
.