Instead of trying to engage me again, Carver sheathes his blade, signaling an end to our practice. He approaches, giving me a bold once-over. “I like a woman of many talents.”
“I think you just like women.”
He gets an odd look on his face, a flash of vulnerability, gone so fast I might have imagined it. “All shapes and sizes,” he magnanimously admits.
I roll my eyes, and he throws a sinewy arm across my shoulders, hauling me against his sweaty side. “You use a sword well enough, but that’ll only get you so far, especially because you’re tiny and weak.”
Frowning, I pinch him really hard.
“Stick to knives,” he says, twisting out of my grip. “Do some magic. Only engage in one-on-one combat if you’re sure you can win.”
In other words, my sword is for show. Sheathing it, I throw his arm off me. “I want to get better with a blade.”
He shrugs. “You have other skills.”
“Men don’t understand discretion. My goal is to survive on my weakest abilities. That saves other talents for when I really need them and doesn’t reveal important skills to any idiot who might be watching.”
Carver laughs. “You and ‘discreet’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”
I pinch him again. His response is to grab me and wrestle me to the ground. I’m pinned in five seconds flat. I know because he counts.
A shadow looms over us. “Go for your swim, Cat.” Beta Sinta doesn’t look amused anymore now that Carver is lying on top of me. “Then I have questions.”
I scowl. He gave me three days, which is actually more than I expected. My mood souring, I toss him a dirty look, wiggle out from under an extremely uncooperative Carver, and then head for the stream. At least I get to bathe alone.
Dry and dressed, I amble back to the clearing, in no hurry to answer Beta Sinta’s questions. Kato came back with two rabbits, and I caught a fish. It kept bumping into my legs, so I snagged it, thinking it must be a gift from Poseidon.
Kato guts the fish and skins the rabbits and then whittles something with his knife while Flynn does the cooking. Carver patrols the perimeter, staying relatively close. I look through my satchel, taking inventory of my possessions and trying to hit Carver with kalaberries from the bush next to me every time he comes near. Beta Sinta must get tired of waiting because he finally pins me with an impatient look and motions for me to join him near the fire.
“It’s time,” he says when I reluctantly plop down next to him. “I want to know about the Fisan royals.”
I lean back on my elbows to get away from the heat, glimpsing the first of the night’s stars overhead. “And I want a lamb steak slathered in butter oregano sauce with tiny red potatoes fried until they’re crispy.”
The look he gives me is flat and devoid of humor. “And I want one bloody night when you answer the damn question and finally realize there are bigger issues here than your obvious love of sarcasm, evasion, and sullen silence.”
I purse my lips, suddenly extremely uncomfortable. Something stirs inside me. Guilt? “We can’t always have what we want.”
“Clearly,” he growls.
I glance at him, frowning. Not that he’s wrong—I am sarcastic, sullen, and evasive—but he’s always in a bad mood after I spend time with Carver. Or Flynn. Or Kato.
Is he jealous? That’s ridiculous.
An achy tightness clamps around my heart at the idea, though, squeezing hard. Heat unfurls in my belly and then crawls up my neck. “I thought you cared about your team.”
His eyes turn tempest gray. “Have you decided to be part of the team?”
I thought that was obvious. I shrug.
He stares at me until I almost squirm. “Then you can start by telling me what you know about the Fisan royals.”
I know a lot. The question is what to tell Beta Sinta. There’s a dark look in his eyes tonight, making me wonder how much bending of the truth I can get away with.
I stretch my legs out and cross them at the ankles, hoping I look more relaxed than I feel. “The Queen, Andromeda, had eight children.”
“Andromeda. Ruler of men.”
“Ruler of men, women, children, large monsters… She controls everything and everyone. The King Consort, Dimitri, is useless. He sits around looking pretty and donating seed for her womb.”
“Eight children and Alpha Fisa. A busy woman.”
He mentions children first, which intrigues me. “What with terrorizing everyone, especially her own kids, I imagine she hardly has a second to spare.”