backed up a step, hoping to put a tree or five between his hungry grin and me. “He’ll know they wouldn’t eat flesh they’d poisoned. It would be suicide.” I shuddered. “Besides, Theridiidae aren’t cannibalistic, like you.”
He bared his fangs, licking the tips as he allowed himself a slow perusal of my body. I was grateful again Henri had lent me his coat, so all my more interesting parts were covered.
“Who said anything about eating?” He swiped a hand down his face, and gods I hoped he wasn’t wiping away saliva. “Well, all right, maybe a taste.” He slid the same hand down his shirt as though he were smoothing wrinkles. “I find innocent females, such as you, are all the sweeter on the tongue after they’ve been…” his gaze dipped to my breasts, then lowered, “…tenderized.”
His sword forgotten, he reached behind him, and the leather of his belt creaked. When he brought his hand around, a short mace was clutched in his fist. Spikes jutted from the spherical head, and I realized why the manner of my death mattered little to him. Bludgeoned to a bloody pulp, I’d be left a meaty corpse so pulverized a bite or two taken from my hide could be missed.
I backed when he advanced. “Rhys will kill you for this.” I hoped he made it hurt.
“He’d have to know, then, wouldn’t he?” He twisted his wrist. “Your people are safe. They’ll stay safe until Isolde gets the armor she wanted. After that, you’ve another sister or she has a niece who can wed one of your brothers.” He shrugged. “Plus Rhys has sampled you.”
“He’s my partisan.” Indignation warred with fear and won. “Our affairs are our own.”
“I’ve heard it said Rhys the Cold despises women—their heat burns him, threatens that wall of ice he keeps between him and the rest of the world.” He grinned. “I’ll wager he didn’t lay a finger on you.”
I swallowed and broke eye contact.
“He didn’t, eh? Figures. How’d he resist?”
His tone had changed, lulled me. So when he charged, I spooked and bolted straight into the trees without a second thought as to what I knew prowled the forest beyond this small copse.
Dead limbs slapped my face as I ran, slicing gashes unable to bleed for the cold.
When I’d planned my escape, my goal had been simple. I wanted to see for myself where my sister had gone. My mistake was in assuming the Mimetidae would let me be if we crossed paths. At worst, I expected to be dragged before Rhys, where I’d explain myself. I’d been a fool.
Banishment to the spinning rooms was a milder fate than the one I’d created for myself. My estimation of my cleverness had been generous. My reality, though, was lacking. I should have gone for Rhys . I’d rather he picked my motives apart than this male pick me from his teeth.
I stumbled, and pain seared a red-hot seam from my shoulder to hip. He must have swung his mace. Pumping my legs harder, I couldn’t dwell on how my misstep had likely saved my life.
Ahead, an overturned tree’s blackened limbs stretched toward the sky. I leapt the trunk and circled, keeping the tree between the Mimetidae and me. His face was flush, but instead of aggravated, he appeared invigorated by the chase. With brute strength, he slammed the mace through the thickest part of my cover and splinters flew. With a grunt, he crashed to my side of the tree.
Panic stripped me of all logical thought. I doubled back, jumped the trunk and circled as he laughed and gave chase. His strike from above had snapped the limbs below and made a gap between the trunk and the ground. As I ran, I measured the hole and decided I’d fit through it.
Heart pounding and lungs burning, I’d made myself drunk from the circular path I’d trodden over and around the tree. He had only to outlast me, and he showed no signs of slowing.
Was this it, then? I’d die alone in the forest to a chorus of my own screams?
When I jumped the trunk this time, my knees buckled and I