Something caught my cloak. The force spun me around and jerked me back against the wall. I started to pull away but didn’t make it more than a few inches. Looking down, I saw a dagger embedded deep in the wall, catching my cloak. Stunned, my mouth dropped open.
Hawke stalked toward me, his chin lowered. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Well, he wasn’t going to think this was very nice either.
I gripped the handle of the dagger, wrenching it free. Flipping it so I held it by the blade, I cocked my arm back—
“Don’t,” he warned, stopping.
I threw the dagger directly at his annoyingly handsome face. He spun, just as I knew he would—
He caught the dagger by the handle, plucking it out of the air like it was nothing, and that was…impressive. And I was jealous. No way could I have done that. I didn’t even think Vikter could.
Eyes glittering like chips of gold, he tsked softly and started toward me once more.
Pushing off the wall, I started running again, seeing the stairs up ahead. If I could make it to them—
A dark form dropped down in front of me. My feet skidded, and I slipped, losing my balance. Damn slippers and their smooth, soft sole! I went down hard on my hip, swallowing the cry of pain as it lanced up my lower back. At least I hadn’t landed on my back.
Hawk rose from a crouch, the dagger held at his hip. “Now that really wasn’t nice at all.”
How had he…？ My gaze flicked to the narrow ridge of the wall above. He’d run along that? It couldn’t be wider than a few inches.
He was insane.
“I’m aware that my hair is in need of a trim, but your aim is off,” he said. “You should really work on that since I’m quite partial to my face.”
My aim had been spot-on.
With a silent snarl, I waited until he was close enough, and then I kicked out, catching him in the lower leg. He grunted as I jumped to my feet, ignoring the ache of what was surely a bruised hip and rear. I whirled to the right, and he jumped to block me, but I darted to the left. He came right back at me, and I kicked out once more—
Hawke caught me by the ankle. I gasped, arms pinwheeling until I steadied myself. Wide-eyed, I stared at him. He raised his brows as his gaze traveled the length of my bare leg. “Scandalous,” he murmured.
A growl of annoyance burst from me.
He laughed. “And such dainty little slippers. Satin and silk? They’re as finely tailored as your leg. The kind of slipper no guard of the Rise would wear.”
How astute of him.
“Unless they are being outfitted differently than I am.” Hawke dropped my ankle, but before I could run, he caught my arm and yanked me forward. Suddenly, I was against him and on the tips of my toes.
Air seized in my lungs at the sudden contact. My breasts were flattened against the hard leather and iron of his stomach. The warmth of his body seemed to bleed through his armor, sinking through my cloak and the thin gown underneath. A flash of heat rolled through me as I dragged in a deep breath. Beyond the rot of Craven blood, he smelled of dark spice and lush smoke. A flush crept into my cheeks.
His nostrils flared, and as crazy as it sounded, the hue of his eyes seemed to deepen to a striking amber color. He lifted his other arm. “You know what I think—”
The blade pressing into the skin of his throat silenced him. His lips thinned as he stared down at me. He didn’t move or release me, so I pressed the tip of the dagger in just enough. A bead of blood swelled just below his throat.
“Correction,” he said, and then he laughed as the trickle of blood seeped down his neck. It wasn’t a harsh laugh or a patronizing one. He sounded amused. “You’re an absolutely stunning, murderous little creature.” Pausing, he glanced down. “Nice weapon. Bloodstone and wolven bone. Very interesting…” His gaze flicked up. “Princess.”
Chapter 16
The dagger. Damn it. I’d forgotten that he’d seen the knife at the Red Pearl. Gods, how could I forget that? I jerked the blade away, but it was too late.
And it was also a mistake.
Hawke’s other hand moved lightning-quick, catching the wrist of the hand that held the weapon. “You and I have so much to talk about.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” I snapped, irritated at myself for making not one, not two, but three incredibly foolish moves. And beyond frustrated with Hawke because he’d gained the upper hand.
“She speaks!” He widened his eyes in false shock and then dipped his chin, causing me to tense. “I thought you liked to talk, Princess.” He paused. “Or is that only when you’re at the Red Pearl?”