Page 37 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

“That would be tragic. What good would I be to you without them?” Leaning in halfway, I wait for Lenore to close the distance between us. No matter how many times I kiss her, it’s never enough. Like drinking from an endless stream but never slaking your thirst.

My hand grips her waist as she meets my mouth, trailing down to her thigh. The unmistakable outline of a weapon takes shape beneath my finger.

Reluctantly, I break our kiss. “We need to talk about your dagger.”

Lenore presses her lips back to mine. “No, we don’t.”

I give in for a few seconds longer before pulling away once more. “We do. How much training do you have?”

“A little. I use a training sword when I practice with Gestin.”

I press two fingers over her lips to silence her.

“Tell me, Roseheart, is there a sword strapped to your thigh?” Gripping her skirts, I bunch them up on one side, allowing myself access to her leg beneath.

The usually cool metal of the dagger is warm against her skin. “Hmmm. This doesn’t feel like a sword.”

Lenore bites her lip. I give her inner thigh a light swipe before dropping the dress. “Harrow.” She pouts.

Planting a chaste kiss, I whisper, “Earn that. Show me you can defend yourself and I’ll use my tongue to show you what a good girl you’ve been.”

Lenore’s cheeks darken. I love that her blood is so visible beneath her fair skin. It allows me to see exactly when she’s affected by something. Her gaze is still fixed on my mouth.

“Focus, Roseheart.”

Her eyes snap up to mine. She wets her lips with her tongue, almost derailing my focus and willpower.

Focus, Harrow . My little raven may be hard to kill, but sometimes death is a reprieve compared to the terrible actions of the living.

If she’s ever captured again, if anyone ever tries to hurt her again, I want her to be capable of fending them off.

“Stand up.” I rise first, dumping the sleeping weasel unceremoniously off my lap. He gives an indignant squeak before scurrying off. “Sorry, Weasley.”

Lenore takes my offered hand, rising.

“Maybe you can help clarify something. You see, I’m struggling to imagine how you’re going to remove the dagger to use it when you actually need to.

Unless you’re naked, which I do not expect to happen with anyone else, ever .

It will be quite difficult to access. Please demonstrate your previous ‘training’ techniques. ”

Lenore scrunches her face up and sighs. Turning on her heel, she runs from me. There’s an instant coiling of my muscles as she triggers the predator beneath my skin. Almost right away, she falls. My predator relaxes.

“My leg,” she cries out, raising her skirts to clutch her wounded knee. After a few seconds of writhing in pain, she slides the dagger free. Lifting it in the air, she shouts in victory. “Ah ha!”

I stare at her, unblinking. “ That is your plan?”

Glaring, she folds her arms. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that plan?”

Where do I even start? “For one thing, you’re on the ground. How will you fight now that you have your dagger free if you’re lying on the floor?”

“I’ll stand back up.”

“Before your attacker gets to you?”

“Yes.” Her overconfidence is painful to witness.

“Alright then, let’s try that again. You run, I’ll chase you, and we’ll see if your plan can work.”

Doubt creeps across her features. “Okay. You have to give me a head start. And no supernatural speed or flying, anything like that. Agreed?”

“On my honor.” I place a hand over my heart in the way I’ve seen mortals do.

Lenore rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what that’s worth.”

She sheathes her dagger and gets to her feet. I take a menacing step toward her. Bolting away, she runs faster than before. Faster, but not near fast enough. Her legs are short, her strides even shorter. I wait until she feigns her injury, hitting the ground.

Springing forward, I give chase. Lenore’s eyes bulge as I land on top of her, pinning her to the ground before she’s gotten her skirts even halfway up her leg. “Wait!”

“Your attacker won’t wait. They’ll be ruthless in their pursuit. This plan is not practical.”

I have to fight to hold back my smirk as she glares from beneath me. “You have a better plan?”

“Can you trust your handmaiden?”

“Melly? Of course.”

“She knows about the dagger?”

Lenore nods. “She helps me get dressed.”

“Instruct her to cut a hole in your skirts, to the right of your waist, and sew in a secret pocket. That’s where you’ll keep your dagger. In reach.”

“In all of my dresses?”

“Every single one. And I expect it under your pillow while you sleep. I’ll be checking, personally, each night from now on.

” I toss her a wink that earns me a lusty look.

Focus, Harrow . “Now, let’s teach you to use it once you’ve successfully retrieved it.

Do you know the weak points on the human body? ”

“The heart.” Overconfidence, again.

“How accurately can you find the heart of a moving target?”

She considers before answering. “I’m guessing not that easily based on the way you asked the question.”

“Right you are. While the heart may be an excellent place to strike a killing blow, you have other options.” Reaching beneath her skirts, I unsheathe the dagger. I don’t miss the way she holds her breath when my hand brushes against her thigh. I hand her the weapon. “Here.”

The scowl on Lenore’s face tells me she’s had quite enough of my teasing. I’ll reward her later, but for now, she must train. The heat of her glare brings a smirk to my face. “What next?”

“The heart is a poor choice for several reasons.” Once the hilt is firmly in her grasp, I take her hand in mine.

“If you miss the heart, you could strike a rib. Not to mention your attacker may be wearing armor. What if it’s frost season and your attacker is in heavy winter gear?

The chest is the most well-shielded area on most men. ”

“Fair enough. No heart.”

“There are other places you can choose based on what you have access to. You want to go for areas with high blood flow. Let’s start with the neck. Slitting the throat can be extremely effective.”

“That’s true, unfortunately.” Lenore’s hand drifts to her neck.

Guilt fills me. Maybe try thinking before speaking, dumbass .

I clear my throat. “You need more space to swipe across the throat. Stabbing from farther back is more likely to work for you. When looking at the throat, you have two main options. Stabbing into the clavicle…” She gives a shriek when I guide the dagger to my neck.

I bring her hand to the open collar of my shirt.

“Look for the soft spot right here.” Her fingertips dig into my skin.

“Perfect. Your next option is the carotid artery. Here.” I raise her hand.

“Feel the pulse there? There’s not a lot you can do to survive once it’s been cut open. The last place you can aim for…”

She yanks back when I try to place her hand on the front of my trousers. “Harrow!”

“This is all part of the lesson.” I wink. She gives me a look that tells me she’s less than convinced. “If you do find yourself on the ground, you can go for the groin.”

“Alright, stab one of those three areas. Got it.” Lenore nods dutifully. I can’t help thinking she’s not taking this seriously.

“Never lose your grip on the hilt. Don’t leave it in or they may survive. Pull it out, let their blood flow.”

Lenore visibly shudders. “Alright.”

“Great. Let’s practice. Attack me with your dagger.”

“You want me to pretend to stab you?”

“No, I want you to actually stab me.”

She opens her mouth, aghast. “No!”

Why must this stubborn woman challenge everything I say? “And why not?”

“What if I kill you?”

“Really, Roseheart? I’m Death.”

She purses her lips, twirling the dagger. “You can’t be hurt?”

Mulling it over, I decide to tell her a partial truth. “I cannot be killed.”

“Killed and hurt are not the same thing.”

“I can be hurt, yes, but I cannot be killed. Happy?”

“Will you bleed?”

“Enough questions. Practice. Go for the kill.” Adopting an attacker’s pose, I raise my hands high.

Lenore looks between my neck and groin. I really hope she doesn’t choose to stab me in the dick. Actually, the thought kind of turns me on. Will she really stab me? It’s a savage act. I’d love to watch her maim, blood spilling across those fair fingers.

Lenore raises an arm above her head and swings the knife toward my carotid. I parry the blow with ease. She isn’t expecting it. The dagger flies from her fingers. The look she gives me is one of pure shock.

“What was that?” She rubs her wrist.

“I saw your attack coming the moment you decided where you wanted to strike.” Retrieving her dagger, I hold it out to her.

Lenore’s arms are crossed. “You saw it coming because you told me to stab you.”

“Wrong. I saw it coming because you wound up your arm like you were going to throw a snowball. Your intentions were obvious and your movements were slow.”

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel,” Lenore mumbles.

“Don’t hold back. Try again.”

She strikes again, this time going for my clavicle. I swat her hand away. The dagger hits the forest floor.

“Too obvious. Try again.”

“This isn’t very fun.” Those beautiful blue eyes are burning into me.

I retrieve the dagger. “It’s not meant to be fun. Again.”

She aims for my carotid. I block her. The next time, she goes for the clavicle. My wrist redirects hers. She yelps, rubbing at the spot where our arms connected.

“I really don’t think—” Lenore protests.

“Dead girls can’t talk. Strike me and earn your words.”

That one pisses her off. The next swing of her dagger is aimed straight for my balls. She roars in frustration when I knock her hand aside at the last minute.

“Come on, Roseheart. You’re not stronger or faster so find a strength your attackers don’t have.”

She swings for my neck. I block her. “Too obvious. Again.”