Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(17)

What a bloody irritating discovery.

Chapter 7

“I will ask you again: where did you get these weapons?” the Captain said, his irritation coloring the tone in the room.

Changing her story now would be suicide. Instead, Shanti changed tactics and met that powerful blue gaze with a violet one of her own. She would not yield to his bullying, and it was important he knew that. She was vulnerable at the moment, yes, but she did have her own power. A good leader would respect that. Hopefully.

“Can you use these weapons?” the Captain continued, only a slight edge in his voice. It was commendable, because his irritation was thrashing at her mind. She didn’t need to step closer to feel it anymore; he was broadcasting.

“As much as the normal woman, I’d wager,” she said in a light tone.

The Captain stood up. Up and up until Shanti was sure his head would glance off the ceiling. He was huge. Taller than Xavier, and broader. Well over six feet tall, his shoulders strained against his shirt, causing small holes along the seams. His torso was all bump and valley. His back probably was, too. Power and brawn and extremely fast, not to mention poised and balanced, graceful and agile. If that bastard were mentally trained, things would be extremely dicey. Good thing he wasn’t.

“I bet this city goes poor trying to feed you,” she let slip.

“Molly, you are excused,” the Captain pronounced, sparing the woman a glance. “Thank you for your help. I’ve already arranged payment.”

Shanti kept herself from begging the woman to stay. Less violence usually happened in front of homely nursemaids. Or so she’d heard.

“Oh. Yes, of course. Yes, thank you, my Lord. Thank you, yes.” Molly bustled out, followed by a shaky Xavier, who closed and guarded the door behind her, his knees bent. She hadn’t noticed him climbing off the floor.

Shanti backed up two steps so she could see the whole room now that Xavier had switched positions. Her feet stepped on the rug, dragging her focus down to the floor. The thing was incredibly ugly, but so soft. It was luxurious. Her feet sang as they sank in, and then tried to go to sleep. Her lids got heavy in commiseration.

“Is there a reason you retain her shoes, Cadet?” the Captain asked Xavier, interrupting her rug analysis.

“She handed them to me, sir. She didn’t like their height.”

“I see. Cadet Rachie, take the shoes away and come back with some slippers.”

“Yes, sir.” Rachie, a kid near the front, nearly fell over himself leaving.

The Captain moved around the desk with an easy glide, that fighting balance evident. He paused in front of the desk, three feet from Shanti. With such a long reach, she should’ve stepped back immediately, given herself room. But something else had caught her attention. His brain pattern was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Everyone had a certain essence, or energy, about them. That energy usually had a mood, which some people referred to as an aura. Often the aura would convey itself to the human brain via a hazy color, or sometimes with movement—bursting and lively on some, smooth and tranquil on others. That energy was usually a consistent hue, however, lightening and darkening with mood.

The Captain housed a vivid rainbow. A surging, swirling, spinning rainbow. Colors mixed and merged, dancing and playing, pounding from his body like its own life force. She’d never seen something so unique. Or beautiful.

Her eyes refocused. Reality seeped back in.

Without thought, she quickly yanked the metal contraption on her dress down the rest of the way and stepped out of her green death trap. If he planned to rush her, she could at least try to kill him before she passed out.

All the boys gasped.

“May I ask why you are shedding your clothes?” the Captain asked lightly, humor coloring his voice.

“You dress your women like cake with frosting. I didn’t want you to think I was offering myself for dessert.”

“You’re half starved. We’d go hungry. Not my type of fulfillment.”

“Offering me as a reward for good conduct is not farfetched.”

Colors stilled and darkened, eyebrows dipped low. “My men have an aversion to violence against women. Most of my people do, in fact. Violence against the weaker sex is not tolerated. Punishment is fast and harsh.”

The weaker sex? Interesting philosophy.

“That’s a luxury you may not always have,” Shanti stated in an indifferent tone, though she silently threw out a giant thank you to the Elders for their care.

“How do you mean?” The Captain didn’t move, but suddenly he seemed to lounge where he stood. It irked her for some reason she couldn’t explain.

“War is not only fought by men.”

“My people limit the casualties of war to those on the battle field.”

“Spoken like a man who has only fought battles, instead of an actual war.”

Confusion replaced the scowl. “I see. And you know something of war?”

“I do.”

“You’ve seen it, perhaps? Are those weapons a husband’s? Or a brother’s?”

“No. And while we are on that fascinating subject, might I have them back?”

“And that ring? A lover?” he pushed.

“Let us cut a chase, as you said. I need that bag, and I would like to leave. A map and some provisions would be ideal, but I can do without.”