Roar (Stormheart #1)(37)

“Enough.” Locke’s voice came out in a deep rasp. He captured her long, delicate finger in his fist before she could continue poking him. He felt short of breath at the sight of her—livid and lovely. “Enough.”

The old Locke might have kept arguing, and Roar would have met him toe-to-toe. But if becoming a storm hunter had taught him anything, it was that fighting head-on wasn’t always the way to win. Sometimes strategy was required. He met Duke’s eyes over her shoulder, and if he had thought Roar looked smug before, she had nothing on his mentor. The man raised his eyebrows in a challenge and asked, “You?”

He hated the idea of bringing someone into this dangerous life, but if it was going to happen regardless, he sure as hell wouldn’t hand her safety over to anyone else, not even Ransom. And at the very least, it would give him the opportunity to change her mind. He gritted his teeth and nodded his acceptance.

“Good.” Duke smiled. “Roar, Locke will follow you home and help you get everything you’ll need for the journey.”

Roar had been about to celebrate her victory, but she stopped short. “I don’t need his help.”

He smirked in response. “Then you’re going to be sorely disappointed, princess. Because I’m in charge of your training.”

Her eyes widened. “But … why? You didn’t even want me to come.” She asked Duke, “Can’t I learn from you?”

“It’s me or nothing,” Locke cut in. “Duke is just the mastermind these days. So if he teaches you, you’ll do nothing but pore over maps and measurements.”

She twisted her fingers together, clenching and unclenching them. After a moment, she sighed. “Fine. But I don’t need your help to get my things.”

“Well, you’re getting it anyway.” He stalked toward her and grabbed her elbow. She dug her heels in, and tried to break free.

“I can go without you. I’m not a child in need of a nursemaid.”

“What a coincidence. I’m no nursemaid.”

He gave another tug, and this one got her feet moving. She stopped fighting and said, “Fine. Let go of me.”

He released her as they approached one of the exits that led out of the market. “Don’t bother trying to run. I’ll catch you.”

She gave him a tight smile, her blue eyes blazing. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

She ducked into the dark passageway between the buildings that hid the market, and he followed her into the cramped space.

“Because you can’t help yourself. You have to fight everything.”

He couldn’t see more than her silhouette, but he heard her clearly as she spit back, “Or maybe I just have to fight men who try to bully me into doing as they say.”

He sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth.

“And another thing—” She stepped out of the darkness, and the rest of her words were muffled. He turned sideways and worked to squeeze himself through the narrow opening of the passageway.

He knew something was wrong the moment he emerged. He spun, pulling one of the blades from his hip, but ground to a halt when he saw Roar. She was panting with exertion, and her glare was a dare to say something. Sprawled at her feet was a man groaning in pain. Blood streamed down his face from a broken nose, but his hands were too busy cupping his groin to stem the flow.

“What?” Roar barked. “He tried to rob me.”

Locke lifted his hands, holding back a smile. “You’ll get no complaints from me.” He narrowed his eyes toward the man. He was about as tall as Roar but near double her weight. An impressive takedown. Though in Locke’s opinion, the thief wasn’t in nearly enough pain. “Want to kick him again before I turn him over to the market’s enforcers?” he asked.

Roar’s lips pressed into a line, the edges trembling upward like she fought a laugh. “No. The first kick was hard enough.”

He lugged the man up from the ground, jerking him up to his tiptoes. The thief wailed at the movement, but one good shake shut him up. “She might be forgiving,” he growled, “but the enforcers won’t be. They don’t take kindly to thieves preying on their clientele.”

He dragged the man toward the tunnel, but stopped first to meet Roar’s gaze. “I’ll be right back.” She smiled innocently in response, and he knew. “You’re not going to wait for me, are you?” Her smile grew. “Fine. Clearly, you can take care of yourself. Meet us at dawn on the eastern road just outside the city gates. Don’t be late or I’ll leave you.”

“I’ll be there,” she promised. “Tell Duke I said thank you.”

The thief started groaning again, and Locke shoved him into the passageway. “I don’t get a thank-you?”

“Maybe you’ll get it when I’m no longer angry that you called me a liability.”





Do not fear the thunder, nor the fire in the skies.

Rest little darling, and close your tired eyes,

For up above us now in that great, golden dome

A Stormling stands against it all to protect our sacred home.

—Pavanian lullaby





9

Novaya was wide-awake in her bed when a low tap sounded on her door. She was lying on top of the covers, still in her day clothes. She eased the door open enough to peek outside, and when she saw a familiar cloak, she took hold of Aurora’s wrist and tugged her inside.