Why must every damn thing go to hell? For once, once, could luck be on my fucking side?
But I could cuss the gods (who were probably throwing a fucking party right now) later. Right now, Sophie and I just had to stay alive.
When Sophie dropped, I immediately hid behind the prongs and into the darkness, out of the guard's sight. My hands were throbbing, the burn from the rope aching, and my fatigued arms sat limp at my side. With a small groan, I lifted my jacket off my shoulder. Underneath, blood was slowly gathering, soaking through my shirt.
"Damn it." I ripped the stitches from the bullet wound. Heaving a shuddering sigh, I looked around the prong, listening carefully to the conversation below.
"What do you think you're doing?" One of the guards barked. I heard Sophie shift in the snow and sighed knowing she was okay. Carefully, I got to my knees, pulling out two knives from my thighs.
"Oh, is this not the entrance?" She asked, laughing sweetly. "My mistake, officers. I'll just-"
"Wait, I recognize her," the other said, leaning closer to get a better look. His eyes widened. "It's the p-"
The blades I had in my hands landed into the back of both of the officer's heads fractions of a second between each other. They collapsed. Sophie stood there in momentary shock but scoffed a second later and bristled to the dead (or quickly dying) guards.
"I could've handled it," she said, grabbing one of the guards under his arm and dragging him toward the treeline.
"Well, then, next time we're in this situation, you can be the one to kill them." Sophie grunted as she gave the last pull and sent the first guard tumbling down the slope and into the bushes.
She straightened herself and fixed her hair. "Thank you." I watched as Sophie moved to the next one and heaved him, like the last one, into the bushes. She checked her watch.
"A minute." Hurriedly, she made her way to the rope, now tying a loop around her waist. "You better not drop me this time." I tied two pieces of cloth I'd ripped from my shirt and tied them around my hands so, one, my hands wouldn't slip and, two, to ease the burning sensations in both my palms.
I grasped the rope. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Great," Sophie mumbled sarcastically.
This time, I pulled her up with ease, and when she got to the top, Sophie was able to reach up to the spikes and haul herself up the rest of the way. I quickly pulled the rest of the rope up and unlaced it from the metal prong.
And not 20 seconds later, like clockwork, two guards rounded the corner. Sophie and I got onto the other side of the spikes, flattening our backs to them. The slow sensation of blood soaking my sleeve continued.
When the guard's voices faded, I whispered softly, "When you jump, try to land on your back. Keep your arms and legs bent and tucked in, and put your chin to your chest so you don't hit your head. It's not going to feel good, but the snow is loose enough that it should cushion your fall at least a little." Sophie nodded and glanced down. Surprisingly, she didn't need more than a second before throwing herself off the edge and effortlessly landing exactly as I'd instructed. I followed her and when my back struck the earth, my bones rattled in response.
Beside me, Sophie groaned but rolled to her side, pulling herself to her feet. "You okay?" She asked, reaching for her pack. I nodded weakly and got to my knees.
"Yeah. You?"
"Better when we get out of this cold." I agreed. My body could barely hold still in the cold. Sophie shivered, teeth chattering. I pushed to my feet.
And when I turned to face the city, I found myself gaping. This was the first time I was getting a good look at it. Enormous buildings stood before us with long, rolling streets and the people conducting their business hurriedly. Shops had their doors open and street performers played music on corners. It looked as if the city itself was alive.
We had dropped in an alleyway where the lights on the streets didn't hit us. We were hidden in the darkness, tucked in a tiny corner of the city. Compared to the other Targaryen villages, this one was by far more diverse, more advanced. It was large, looking to stretch for miles and miles without end.
Sophie looked toward me, giving me a questioning glance, and I nodded at her as if knowing what she wanted to say. And still shivering and exhausted, we set off into the city.
Not two miles down the road, we saw a man leaning against an entrance to an alley that was similar, if not identical, to the one we dropped in, and the closer we got, the closer his features began showing clearer. Any anxiety flooded from me as we stopped in front of the man who was none other than Sorin Stryker.
"You're late," he said with his usual gruffness, but I noticed his face relax at the sight of us.
"Technically, we never told you an exact time, so we can't be late," I said back, shoving the pack that had been slung over my shoulder into his arms. I tried not to think of my arm. God, it hurt.
He took it but bit out, "I didn't think I'd be standing here in the cold for four hours."
Sophie sighed but smiled. "Oh, you poor thing. We were laying in the snow for four hours and had to scale a thirty-foot wall guarded with gun-equipped-nimrods." She walked forward and tapped his chest twice. "Just be happy we're alive." Then she walked off.
"She seems happy," Sorin commented, watching her walk down the alley where a familiar black carriage sat, barely touched by the light.
I shrugged. "The cold's getting to her head. We didn't have ideal clothes to be taking an ice bath." Sorin looked at me, eyes watching my body. He shifted the pack over to one arm, and with his other hand, he lightly held my chin.
"Yeah, your lips are blue." His mouth hovered over mine. I felt his breath on my face. "I bet I could help with that." I placed a hand on his chest, preventing him from sealing the kiss. It took a lot of strength to push him away--a lot.
Sorin looked at me surprised, but I just raised a brow at him; when he understood what I was saying, his lips sank into a frown. "I don't care about them," he pouted.
"Mmm, because that's why you kissed me behind the carriage earlier where no one could see."
"I-"
"Later," I whispered, giving him a wary smile. Sorin sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Fine. But I'm gonna hold you to that."
"You do that," I said with a short laugh, my last words to him before walking away.
By the carriage, Rafe and Sophie were already making out. Sorin and I exhaled exasperatedly nearly at the same, stopping to wait for them to finish.
Rafe was the first to pull away. His gaze found mine and he smiled, moving swiftly to me and embracing me.
"God, I was worried about you two!" My arms stayed stiff by my side.
"Okay, and we're hugging. Great-"
"Why did it take you so long!?"
"Rafe-"
"All you had to do was climb a stupid wall!"
"Rafe you can-"
"We've been here for hours!"
"Mmhm, mmhm, let go of me." Rafe paused at my harsh tone but immediately took his arms off me.
"Oh. Sorry." I brushed off my clothes.
"We should probably go," Sorin said between stifled laughs. I blew out a breath. Asshole.
"Yeah, I need some warm clothes and food," Sophie agreed, moving to Rafe's side and intertwining her hand in his. Rafe immediately squeezed her hand back as if it was an instinct, as if he hadn't even thought about what he'd done. I don't even think he realized what he did. He looked at her and smiled, and I knew, at least for the time being, things were right between them.
"You'll love the house," Rafe began, guiding Sophie into the carriage "It has plenty of rooms and a kitchen with..." his voice faded as they stepped into the carriage. I turned.
Sorin was already on the perch. He extended a hand to help me up, but when my palm fell into his, he grabbed my hand and frowned, turning it over. I grinned at him and stepped onto the perch. "Rope burn." Sorin shook his head and sat down, dropping my hand.
He clicked his tongue and sighed. "Can you not go two hours without being injured?"
"What can I say, it's a gift."
"Mmhm. Have Carter look at that when we get to the house."
_______________________
Our assigned townhouse was on the outermost edge of the city, by the North wall. We got a surprising seven rooms located on a total of four floors with four bathrooms, a few living spaces, and a kitchen with an attached dining area. It was more than any of us were expecting, but according to Sorin, Carter was a natural when talking to the guard and sweet-talked his way into getting one of the larger houses. It was a shock to hear, but I'm sure Carter picked some stuff up from his father. He was smart after all.
After bathing in a nice tub and having my wounds treated, my muscles ached and my body was tired. Physically, I wanted to collapse, and mentally, knowing the long next few days, sleep sounded like the best option. But here I was, sitting on the very edge of my bed, my foot bouncing anxiously on the carpet.
It was pathetic. I was being pathetic.
Sorin's room was on the second floor, only one below mine. I should just go. It wasn't far...
I stood up and began pacing. My stomach was a bundle of nerves I didn't know why I had. I went to the full-body mirror in the corner of the room, staring at my reflection intently.
I'd never been self-conscious of my body, never hated anything about it, but I suddenly became very aware of what the trip, of what years living in Vadon had done to me. I ran a hand over my front, chewing on my lip. Sorin was crazy, I decided, to even give me a second glance. My fingers touched my sides. I hated the feel, hated how my hips protruded out then dipped to meet my thighs, hated how dry my skin was and how sickly I looked.
I moved from the mirror and collapsed onto my bed, deciding that I wasn't going to go. Sorin was probably asleep by now anyway, I reasoned with myself. He had more than likely forgotten this stupid 'incentive' or whatever the fuck he had called it.
I began chewing on my nails.
Or maybe he was waiting for me. Maybe he'll think I forgot or worse, that I didn't care. But, come to think of it, that wouldn't be awful. Actually, that would be practical, because even being in the same room as him put me at risk of him snapping and slicing my throat. Or worse. I'd gotten too comfortable with him, spilling my fears to him, letting him in. It was unlike me. He was trusted by my sworn enemy to kill me, and I was contemplating going to his room and fucking him. It shouldn't even be a question.
Yes, it shouldn't be, my mind conceded.
That's it. I'm not going.
_____________________
My knuckles lightly rasped against the wooden door leading to Sorin's room.
Do you honestly blame me? Come on. A girl's gotta live a little.
You won't be saying that when he kills you, my head sang as Sorin's thick voice said,
"Come in." I pulled the robe I'd thrown on tighter around my body and opened his door.
But I was surprised when Sorin was nowhere to be found. Brows narrowing, I took a step further into his room, my hand staying on his door. "Uh, hello-"
"I'm in here," Sorin called, his voice coming from the bathroom that was tucked away in the corner. I hadn't known he had a bathroom in his room.
Softly, I closed his door and made my way to the bathroom. Pushing the door open, I saw Sorin standing in front of a dirtied mirror, a white foam lathered on his face and a small knife in his hand. I realized he was shaving.
For a while, I just watched him. He struggled with the spotty mirror and the sharp knife, and once, the knife was angled wrong and he pricked himself. Cussing, Sorin grabbed a towel and wiped the bead of blood that began dripping down his cheek.
"Here," I said finally, so softly I wondered if Sorin even heard me, "let me help." Keeping my eyes on the ground and my blush under control, I dragged a stool that sat by the tub to the middle of the room and filled up a small bucket that had sat on top of the stool. "Sit," I told him as I slid my robe from my arms.
Sorin did. "Have you ever done this before?" Standing in front of him, I held my hand out for the blade he used.
"No," I admitted, "but I'm a fast learner." He inhaled, eyes burning into me.
"Okay." He nodded. "I trust you." He set the knife in my hand, but I didn't pull away. Not immediately anyway. We stared at each other, and my heart began hammering; because hearing those words–I trust you–and believing that he believed him was both frightening and thrilling. This dangerous line we walked was getting thinner and thinner every second we spent with each other.
I sunk onto Sorin's lap slowly, his eyes following me intently.
"You know, usually when an assassin has a knife near your throat it doesn't end well," he said in a raspy voice. I looked into his eyes, for the first time looking down at him. I admit I could get used to this angle.
"I just assumed you were into this."
"What? You being on top of me?" He laughed softly. "I prefer it the other way around, dear."
"But, as memory recalls, you haven't had the pleasure of me being on top of you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Now stop talking. You wouldn't want my knife to slip, would you?" When he didn't respond, I carefully began downward strokes on his cheek, washing the blade in the water every few swipes. It was fairly simple, yet I knew his jawline would be tricky.
But when I got to it, I pulled his head back carefully by means of his hair. That too had grown rather long.
I dipped the blade into the water and washed off the foam before wiping it on the towel I'd grabbed, starting on a new row. I felt Sorin's eyes on me, felt them watching me. His fingers rested on my back, sending a wave of shiver up and down my spine. Other than to the path the knife made, I only paid attention to my breathing, controlling it. But no matter the smoothness of my breaths, my heart continued its quick, erratic beats. And I swore Sorin's were too.
Finally, I finished.
Sitting back, I admired my work and tossed my blade in the bucket. It actually wasn't bad at all. As far as I could tell, there wasn't any more stubble. His face was smooth from the foam. I wondered if it was soft as it looked.
Sorin reached up to the back of my head. He played with the elastic to my braid for a moment before sliding it off altogether and letting it fall to the floor. And, unbraiding my dried hair, Sorin let it rest against my shoulders.
He played with the tips for a moment, then let his eyes meet mine. We stayed like that for a long while.
A muscle in Sorin's jaw ticked. "Vera... I need to tell you something." He swallowed hard. "I-"
But I didn't wait to hear the rest before surging forward and kissing him.