Page 4 of Vicious Princess (The Trials of Death and Honor #1)
CHAPTER TWO
I have no clue when I took the wrong turn. Maybe my poor navigation skills are to blame, or maybe the map I hold in my hand is misleading. But the moment I turn the corner into a dirty alley and three heads snap to me, I know I’m in trouble.
The three fae exchange a few words I can’t catch. Slowly, they rise to their feet from an old, clearly discarded couch leaning against the tarnished earthen building.
“You don’t look like you belong here, girl,” the fae says in Ekiosh, taking a few steps towards me.
I pretend I don’t understand Ekiosh, staring at him silently. Maybe it’s a mistake, but I don’t want to reveal all my cards immediately.
The fae wears blue linen pants with holes in them. His lips are chapped, and they curl into a wicked smile as his eyes scan me from head to toe.
He’s evaluating the enemy. Clearly he’s not very good at it, because he takes another step closer to me despite the knives strapped to my waist.
Or maybe he thinks he can take me because he’s twice as big as I am, as a mere human. The thought that I might be a Decarios doesn’t even cross his narrow mind.
You’re about to make a big mistake, Blue Pants.
The other two fae circle me, as if they’re wild predators and I’m their prey. People pass us, not even throwing a glance towards me or the three fae ready to harass me.
It’s clear that it’s not an unusual occurrence in this part of the city, even in the middle of the day.
The tallest of the three, a fae with odd ears—not as pointy as the others’—with black hair falling over his forehead and rings gleaming on each finger, steps forwards. He says something to me in a language I don’t understand.
My heart races at the way his eyes glimmer, dark as the deepest hour of the night. One of his eyebrows rises in question, a corner of his mouth curling up.
His gaze makes my insides turn.
The next words he speaks, I do understand.
“Wetra, then?” Sparkle Boy inquires, waving a hand in an elegant gesture, the stones of his rings glittering with each movement.
I’ve never seen a thug so fancy—will he invite me to an afternoon tea party or rob me?
I blink, not bothering to answer his question. But, somehow, he knows his guess is correct because his smirk deepens, and to his friends, he says in Ekiosh, “We have a lovely human lady all the way from the land of barbarians on our hands, boys.”
The other two snicker, rubbing their hands together. Anger bubbles hot and thick in my chest.
“Wetra is not a barbarian land,” I snap at them in Ekiosh. The two thugs are surprised to hear me speak their tongue fluently. Sparkle Boy only looks amused. “Now, why don’t you back off and let me mind my own business. This way nobody has to get hurt.”
I’m not surprised when they all holler with laughter. Like a pack of wolves. Blue Pants and the third thug bump into each other, brushing away the tears from their eyes.
We’ll see whether they laugh this hard once I stab them with one of my knives.
Sparkle Boy isn’t laughing, though. He narrows his eyes at me and tilts his head to the side as if I’m a curious specimen.
Heat rises to my neck and my cheeks. Instinctively, I slip one hand around my favorite knife with a black onyx handle.
“Why don’t you empty your pockets for us, beauty,” Blue Pants says to me and jerks his chin. “And then you can go mind your own business.”
The only reason I don’t stab him immediately is because I don’t know Ekios laws that well. If I stab someone in the street before they attack me, does it still count as self-defense?
I should have asked Vasquez about that, gods damn it.
One thing I know for certain is that Ekios is not tolerant to the likes of me—humans—nor is it kind to dwarfs. Fae are welcoming only to their own kind. I don’t want to risk my plans by being thrown into jail on my first day. Not after all the trouble I went through to get here.
I look around, trying to find a friendly face. Someone who might be willing to step in and diffuse the situation before I have to draw the knife or use my power.
But nobody pays attention. I’m on my own.
A blade glitters in Blue Pants’s hand, which draws my awareness back to my opponents. He sneers, lifting the blade and pointing it towards me.
I barely hold off a scoff. He doesn’t have a good grip on the handle, clearly lacking training. One gentle bump and he’d be disarmed.
Despite how easy it would be for me to take them on without tapping into my power, I’m curious enough to open my senses.
The first hit of emotions radiating from fae is always the most startling. I take a long, deep breath, steadying myself, and try to separate what’s mine from what’s theirs.
Blue Pants pulsates with hatred so hot and red, my cheeks warm even more. But there is a small sprinkle of cool fear coming off him. That’s why he clings to the hatred so badly. The third thug is so afraid, the muscles in my throat freeze for a moment.
At least someone has good enough self-preservation senses in this trio, because Sparkle Boy’s wicked amusement and curiosity tingles on the tips of my fingers.
I lock gazes with Sparkle Boy and narrow my eyes at him. What is wrong with this guy?
A heartbeat later, he straightens his back and blinks rapidly. The tingly amusement and curiosity changes to awareness that washes over me from head to toe like a cold ocean wave.
“This isn’t very gentlemanly of us, buddies,” Sparkle Boy says to his comrades, voice light as a feather. There’s a dazzling smile on his lips. But he’s not fooling me. His cool consciousness is seeping into my bones. I flex my hands. “How about we leave this one alone, Herafin?”
Blue Pants completely disregards his words. His whole focus is on me and me alone.
He blinks. I close off my senses. Another blink. I put one of my feet closer to Blue Pants. A third blink. I wrap my fingers around his wrist. Blink. I twist his wrist with a force he doesn’t expect, and he groans.
The blade clings to the stone pavement between us.
With a grunt, he swings his free fist at me. I twirl around him, dodging the clumsy swing, and with my heel, I kick the back of his leg. He stumbles, losing his balance. I hook my foot over his ankle. He falls forwards, greeting the stone pavement with his nose, and I twist his arm behind his back.
A scream tears out of his throat when the shoulder pops from its socket. It’s such a thrilling sound.
I love it.
I let go of his limp arm and turn my attention to the other two. The nameless thug swings a punch at me, cursing me in Ekiosh with the nastiest words I’ve ever heard. Some I have not heard before and don’t understand. I take a step back, dodging the fist, and grab the back of his arm.
His eyes widen in terror when I push his elbow inwards, towards him. The bones crack easily, and he screams like an animal being butchered.
Cradling his arm close to his chest, he stumbles away from me. He even whines. I scrunch my nose in disgust and whirl around on my heel to face Sparkle Boy.
One more to go. Then I can go mind my own business.
Sparkle Boy watches me with awe. As if he’s witnessing magic unfold in front of his eyes.
I grab him by the wide white shirt and slam his back to the wall behind him so hard his bones rattle. He blinks a few times, startled.
I press the blade of my knife to his exposed moon-pale neck. When instead of cursing me or snarling at me, he huffs a laugh, I’m the one who’s startled.
“You’re about to die, and you find it funny ?” I sneer at him, bewildered by his illogical reaction.
“Admit it, the circumstances are quite funny.”
I blink, searching his face. His eyelids are heavy, his long dark eyelashes almost brushing the top of his high cheekbones. He has a look of a man enjoying himself. Not one who’s on the verge of death.
I push the blade closer to his skin. Maybe he doesn’t understand just how easy it would be for me to kill him.
Maybe he thinks I wouldn’t dare.
“Is that a kink of yours or something? Flirting with death?”
“Flirting with stunningly dangerous women is definitely my thing,” he says. A wicked smile blooms on his face. “It’s a good death, to go down at the hand of woman who could have been the love of my life.” He winks at me.
I’ve seen men do many things when faced with the sharper end of my blades—curse me, snarl, cry, beg, and try to fight back. One even tried to bite my hand like a rabid dog. At least two wet themselves from fear. But none had attempted to flirt their way out of death.
“How do I get to Bussek?” I ask.
Slowly, he lifts his hand and points a long finger with two silver rings stacked together, aimed at the south.
“Spuleb and Bussek are very close together. I can see why one might have gotten lost their first time in Jaakii,” he says.
“Would you want me to show you the way to Bussek? I know the city better than the back of my hand. I’m sure I could be a finer guide than that moldy map of yours. ”
“Shut up, Sparkle Boy.”
I shove him into the wall not so gently before walking away.
“Hope to see you again, Grumpy Blade,” he calls after me.
Without turning back, I flip him off.