Chapter 12: 12_Four encounters

“Take that!”

He jerked to the side and the swift draft of air from her sword ruffled his loosened hair. She’d just missed his ear.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” he demanded, ducking out of the way of the weapon she brandished.

“I told you!” Amie muttered through tightly clenched teeth as she attempted to cut him. “I would hunt you down!”

She snapped across the room, coming for him as fast as her specie was known to do and Thoran was just a little too late in evading her.

The edge of her sword nicked at his arm and he grunted, jerking away. Fire flared up in the flesh she’d cut, making him grit his teeth.

“You thought some measly ropes would hold me?” she taunted. “I’m a Vampire Viking. I eat ropes for breakfast!” Amethyst would later be cringing at that last line.

Thoran was gripping his arm. What on earth? Mildly confused, he looked at her. Her weapon, it wasn’t a normal sword. The amount of pain inflicted was proportionally larger than the size of the cut it had given him. She’d gotten her weapon altered by sorcery, hadn’t she?

With a grunt, she swiped the blade at him and he ducked out of the way, more agile and quicker with his reaction after the blow she’d landed.

A low, dull clang reached his ear. The sound of metal on metal. Gunnar was tapping against the metal chute inside the adjacent room. The secret chutes Lady Hadgar had installed in each bed chamber to provide a rapid escape for her guests in cases where they were caught in their acts of infidelity would finally be put to noble use today.

Thoran would vanish through the chute in the adjacent room, both he and the jewels that were now his.

The blade of a sword narrowly missed his throat. He’d vanish as soon as he managed to get rid of *her,* bloody hell.

Just as she reached back for another reckless swipe of her weapon, he lurched forward and grabbed her wrists in one hand.

“No!” Amie said angrily. Not again. She held tightly onto her weapon. Curse him and his one hand! Why was she easy enough to defeat with a single hand?!

She tried to jerk her arms about, lowering them to point her sword at the ground. Still, his tight grip remained. Her wild movements robbed them both of their balance and his boot stepped on her gown.

One jerk of her weapon put a huge gash in the dress and, staggering around, both their shoes trapped the hem of her dress enough to tear a long slit up to her knee. She tripped over a portion of the dress and lost the sword as he reeled forward, falling against her.

The earth tilted when Amethyst fell, a low scream tearing out of her throat as she landed on a thick pile of fabric.

She bounced about for a moment, her chest trembling with her rapid breathing and pounding heart. That was the most terrifying fall she’d ever experienced.

Her thoughts shut down in a split second and Amie realized she couldn’t breathe, crushed into the bed by the Barbarian’s heavy body.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered angrily. “What’s the matter with you?”

Regaining her senses, she realized the battle wasn’t over. She’d lost her weapon, but that was the good thing about being a Vamp. She *was* a weapon!

Thoran had barely raised his head when he saw a flash of pretty, white fangs come right for his face.

He jerked his head away, slamming her head back into the bed with one hand on her forehead. She struggled against him, hissing, and he grabbed her wrists as she tried to claw his face, holding both hands over her head.

His blood was rushing and, after a long time, he truly felt like he’d had a brush with danger. That alone was enough to shock him stiff as he stared down at her. Her white fangs gleamed as she hissed at him, her green eyes more vicious in their glow. A disbelieving scoff blew quietly out of his mouth.

Amie struggled for a bit longer but quickly accepted that she wasn’t going to be breaking out of this grip.

He was studying her, his gaze unknowingly filled with interest. He watched the fight melt out of her until she stopped struggling, glaring up at him. The interesting thing about it was how much accusation sharpened that glare. She looked at him like he was an arsehole for not allowing her to rip his throat out.

It put a humorous glint in his eyes. And a deep tension in his groin. Drawn to her most bizarrely, he lowered his head toward hers, studying her face. "What's wrong, poppet?"

The velvety depth of his voice filled her ears and glided through her body. She hated it! Grunting, she jerked in his arms and he chuckled hoarsely, his breathing shallow with both exhilaration and mild awe. “Hold still.”

How amusing she was, he thought.

Her failed attempt at freeing herself was another quick reminder that she was well and truly trapped. Thoran watched as her expression shifted, going from fierce anger to solemn resignation. Sadness welled up in her eyes, her body slackening beneath his.

The effect was bewitching, feeling her body soften, melting against him. He lay there, transfixed, staring down at her.

He’d never seen such. She switched from a vengeful spirit to a pouting angel in mere seconds. Any other fool would’ve been quickly tricked. But Thoran Steel was no fool.

Was he?

“What’s wrong?” His voice was a mere whisper.

Her gaze met his, something akin to surprise tinging the expression on her face as the gentleness of his voice filled her ears.

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” he continued, his eyes falling to where her lips were parted. “That you cannot beat me.”

The deceiving kindness vanished as mockery curved his mouth and she snapped out of the spell his gentle voice had cast. The flash was back in her eyes with a vengeance. “I *will* beat you. Mark my words.”

His eyes glinted, a sudden bolt of excitement sizzling through his blood. Was he crazy or was it becoming fun to have this girl challenge him?

“Do your best, then… *Amethyst.”*

Her name on his lips was as annoying as it was hypnotic. Suddenly, he did something even worse. She felt his hand, large and calloused, trail down the smooth curves of her arms. A frightening rattle shook her heart and, staring at him, she was stunned to feel her body respond. What was this? What was he doing?

She became acutely aware of how warm his muscled body felt against hers and failed to stop the blush that reddened her face. Her hands were free but she didn’t move them, laying beneath him as he slowly lowered his head, tilting it to position his mouth over hers.

The distant sound of running feet reached them from somewhere in the house but she didn’t seem to realize it. She couldn’t think past the fingers teasingly tracing her arms. His eyes were on her lips, his mouth an inch from hers.

Amie made the unforgivable mistake of closing her eyes.

He vanished.

By the time she regained enough sense to snap out of it, he was across the room. Jerking to an upright position, she watched in self-inflicted shame as he opened a secret door and disappeared through it into the dark room beyond.

“So long,” his deep voice echoed back to her. “Amethyst.”

There was the loud noise of clanging metals and then silence in the adjacent room.

Amie sat in cold shock at her own inexcusable, inexplicable actions.

The sound of running feet was louder, closer. She blinked, glancing at the door as she regained her sanity but it was too late.

The guards burst into the room, armed to the teeth.

“We found the thief!”

*********

The giant sack of jewels was tossed in the back of the fancy carriage.

“What on earth kept you?” Gunnar questioned.

Thoran got into the vehicle, ripping his jacket off. “Nothing important.”

Gunn glanced at the castle entrance. “I don’t see anyone chasing.”

“They’re not,” said Thoran. “Not yet.”

He’d very subtly made his way by the gardens outside the massive ballroom windows. He hadn’t needed to get Lady Hadgar’s attention, catching the eye of the other guests was more than enough. Those women who’d passed him in the hallway had probably been trying to find him in the crowd all night. Immediately after spotting him through the windows, the ladies had excitedly flooded their hostess, asking after the mysterious guest outside in the gardens.

A clueless Lady Hadgar had turned in his direction and then Thoran had had the pleasure of seeing her caked-up face crack with horror as she let out a piercing scream.

He’d instantly vanished then. For all the riches she had, she’d really failed to hire a better security team. Really, even the crazy girl attempting to hunt him down had given him more trouble than the useless guards.

“They’re really not chasing,” Gunn murmured, looking at the castle.

“There he is!” someone shouted. An entire army of guards came running out from around the castle.

Thoran smirked. “Now they are.”

With a rapid crack of Gunnar’s whip, the carriage lurched forward and they began their escape.

“My carriage!” screamed the owner, watching with the other guests from a balcony above.

Leaning out of the carriage as he held on with one hand, Thoran watched Lady Hadgar jump about in the doorway of her castle, angrily smacking her guards as they ran past her to chase after him.

She pointed a red-nailed finger at him, screaming her promises of murder and vengeance.

Evil laughter shook his chest and, after ripping the ribbon out of his hair so the thick locks flew free in the wind, he raised his hand up high, making certain she saw his middle finger.

Fuck her. And fuck all her rich friends too.