Garin shifted his weight back to his feet, ignoring it completely when she scooted away in disdain. “Well, you fainted. And you hit your head. You were parched, and I guessed a little hungry, so I fished inside your little friend’s bag that he so generously left us and found some food and stoneware. Plus, that fabulous cast iron, which I would’ve relished in another life.” He shook his head and tsked twice. “His mummy dearest must take such great care of him.”
“Except, this is my mother’s pie.” A pang of emptiness resounded in her chest. Fork in hand, she skewered a tiny bite. Marguerite probably cooked it for Sinclair before he departed on his search for her. After the night’s events, the thought of her mother handing him the bundle of supper made her stomach churn.
She inspected the plate once more before popping the forkful into her mouth, where the mixture of meat and vegetables instantly burned her tongue. She nearly dropped the utensil.
“I just removed it from the fire. That’s often how it works.” Garin placed the tips of his fingers together, his condescending glare morphing into one of contemplation. “Speaking of your beloved, we need to find some shelter quick in case he returns with reinforcements.”
Lilac couldn’t be sure, but Garin looked as if he had attempted to wash himself off in the river. His face appeared far less matted with blood than she could recall, and his dark hair had regained some of its bounce.
She stared. Despite his monstrous truth now unveiled, not a thing had changed; on the outside, he was still a barkeep. Still caddishly tousled, still cautious, but in a way that seemed for her benefit instead of his. He’d been the first vampire she laid eyes on—to her knowledge. Like shifters, like Freya, there was no way to tell until you got too close. How many more of them were there? How many more could disguise their eye color, blend in with the crowd? Had there been any in the castle, deadly and glittering at her mother’s soirées? Did the castle’s stupid preventative bundles even work?
She scooted away from him while chewing on another mouthful of buttery mushroom. “We,” she swallowed, “as in you and me?”
The vampire nodded mutely.
“You,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, “are delusional if you believe I am going anywhere with you.”
“Pity. I also thought it a marvelous opportunity for our previously forged friendship to blossom. Since both our facades were shattered in a mere matter of minutes, the only thing that’s prevented our reconciliation has been your contempt for me.”
Lilac squinted, as if seeing him more clearly would help make sense of his bullshit.
“Contempt isn’t even the half of what I feel for you. And I can take care of myself.”
“You’re heading back to the castle, then?”
Her pause was but a moment too long.
“It’s obvious you’ve come to Brocéliande for a reason. Plus,” he drawled, “I didn’t think you wanted to be saved by Sinclair. Especially not after what he tried with you.”
Blood rushed to Lilac’s cheeks and she suddenly couldn’t see through the moisture in her eyes.
She bitterly stuffed in the last mouthful and stood, taking the goblet with her. It was heavy, but better than having no weapon at all. She hoisted her sack over her shoulder before marching into the trees, ignoring his protests.
Once he was out of sight, Lilac spun to her left and then her right. She groaned, unable to recall which direction she and Sinclair had come from.
“Please.” Garin was suddenly in front of her. Lilac lowered her head like an angry bull and tried to shove around him, but he sidestepped and mirrored her movement with ease. “I’m being serious. It isn’t safe out there.”
Upon realizing what he was doing, she took a step back. “So just to be clear, this is a kidnapping?”
“Call it what you like. I’d like to think of it as attempting to do you a favor by saving you.”
“Saving me? From Sinclair? He’s harmless—look, touch me, and I’ll hit you with this goblet as hard as I possibly can.”
He stared at her in disbelief, traces of anger sharpening his angled features. “You do know that Sinclair tried to rape you, right?” He didn’t seem to care when she flinched at his words. “If you’re going to start justifying the intentions of that poor excuse of a man, please, do not do it in front of me.”
She glowered at him incredulously. He’d trapped her back at the inn and showed no intent of letting her go. He’d tried to kill Sinclair. Now he expected her to simply follow him?
“No,” she said through clenched teeth. “I only meant that you are no better.”
The confused shock plastered upon the vampire’s stupid, beautiful face didn’t stop her from shoving at him with all her might. It was like pushing at a boulder; her shoulders ached with effort. Eventually, he stumbled backward out of astonishment.
“Get out of my way.”
“Princess—”
“You’re infuriating.” The words were useless, but they felt good coming out.
Garin clutched his chest. “I’m gutted.”
“I’ll have you executed,” she snapped.
“I’d like to see your men try.” He folded his arms, a wry grin tugging the corners of his mouth. “By all means.”
With a frustrated snarl, Lilac feinted left—then took off to the right. She sprinted with everything she had in her, with the pie and water sloshing inside her. She determinedly ignored the sharp pains stabbing at her sides. Not bothering to check if he pursued, she ran until she came to a screeching halt at the edge of the sloping riverbank. It was another clear night. Moonlight reflected off the wide surface of the Argent, casting tinsel halos onto the dew-covered leaves above it.
“Your Highness,” Garin called merrily from the trees, as if they were on a pleasant nighttime stroll.
Anger surged through her chest as she caught her breath, glaring out over the water. She would never shake him.
Unless…
“Beautiful night,” he said, sounding closer now.
Without thinking, she slid the sack off her shoulder and charged into the river, gasping as the cold water soaked first her socks, then her dress from bottom up. She kept going until the river floor gradually dropped out from under her, and she began to tread water.
Garin stumbled out of the tree line and froze at edge of the bank. His jaw fell open. “Are you mad? What are you doing?”
“Saving myself,” she yelled back, keeping her voice even with effort. The water swirling around her was frigid.
The vampire began pacing along the bank like a ravenous animal. “By drowning yourself?” He grunted, frustration mottling his collected calm. “Don’t be ridiculous. Come back here this instant.”
“N-no.” She could’ve been imagining it, but the water beneath her legs grew colder still. If the surface water was cold, the undercurrents were downright freezing. “You—you can’t cross r-running water. I’m safer in here.”
But, based on Garin’s sudden burst of barely contained laughter, Lilac wasn’t so sure.
“Is that what you mortals are telling each other these days?” He threw his head back, howling madly as Lilac watched in horror. After catching his breath, he was serious again. “You do need to come back. The water isn’t safe.”