❝ when she looks into his eyes, she feels the gripping temptation to tell him all her darkest secrets; the names of the men she has killed, but she learned a long time ago that the only people who can keep secrets are resting in overgrown graveyards...
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The wind howls in a lonely wail, picking up its strength as distant lightning ricochets through the layered clouds holding floods of rain within them. Delicate drops of water pitter against the muddy path that leads to the tavern at the end of the road and roars of laughter escalate through the air, jumbling into the abstracted rolls of thunder. The faint candlelight from the tavern bleeds through the windows creating enough visibility for Calliope to peek inside and focus on her target.
She clutches the smooth handle of her blade, leaning over to conceal it in one of her mud-caked riding boots. Calliope inhales a sharp breath before stepping towards the door. She pulls it open swiftly and steps into the atmosphere of the tavern.
The strong stench of alcohol mingled with the odor of the dirty men sitting around the tables causes Calliope to scrunch up her nose in disgust. Barks of obnoxious laughter consume the drunken air. She remembers what she's there for, and hones her mind on her task. Calliope moves through the tavern like a cat—quiet and focused on her prey.
She comes to a halt at the table in the back of the room. A bearded man sits with a girl on his lap as he throws back the remnants of ale in his glass. Calliope leans forward, placing her small hands on the wooden table. Her eyes are fierce and alluring.
"Can I get you another one?" She asks in a milky tone that grabs the man's attention instantly. He forgets about the brunette on his right knee, shoving her off with his hungry stare on Calliope. She withholds a smirk as the man bends right to her will like a deer in a clearing, unaware of the hunter watching its every step.
"I think I should be the one buying you a drink, darling," he says through drunken slurs. The stench of ale in his breath is repulsive. "Why don't you have a seat so we can get to know each other better."
"I'd love nothing more," Calliope has him enticed with her as he gives her another lustful look before hurrying to the bar to grab another round of drinks.
Calliope scans the tavern. Everyone is so drunk that they probably wouldn't even notice if she stabbed the man in front of them, but Calliope doesn't like causing a scene in public.
When the man returns, he sits on the bench beside Calliope, moving closer to her than she would like, but she plays along with a flirtatious glint in her eyes. Calliope unfastens her cloak and sets it beside her, revealing the plunging neckline of her shirt. The man's eyes wander to her breasts in a way that makes Calliope's stomach churn in a nauseating way.
Calliope places a soft hand on his thigh, an alluring promise of the night, "Why don't we go somewhere more... private to finish these drinks?"
He eagerly agrees, standing up and grabbing both drinks. He motions to the back door, "After you."
Calliope flashes him a light smile as she grabs her cloak. Her heart pounds as he follows her to the back door. They walk outside into the drizzling rain, and Calliope barely has any time to react as the man drops the drinks and wraps his hands around her waist. He pushes her against the wall of the tavern, his hot, abhorrent breath fanning over her face as his eyes glide over her body. Calliope brings her right knee up slowly, resting her foot against the wall. Inside her boot rests her dagger.
