Page 8 of Snake Eyes & Bad Luck

Callum folded his hands over his dining table and leveled his total focus on her. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

“What’s it matter?” She furrowed her brows.

“You want me to call ya ‘toots’ instead?” he scoffed.

“Avelina,” she spat.

“Atta girl.” He winked, earning a repulsed shiver from her. “Now, what’s a warlock such as yerself doin’ in these parts?”

“You mean why was a woman covered in blood running for the only cover from Parandor Paladins?” She shifted in her seat. Plucky, I’ll give her that. Avelina picked her battles, letting out little pockets of steam. However, it didn’t escape his notice, her eyes continued to dart away from him. Her hands were balled into fists around the hem of his shirt, trying to keep that delicate cunt of hers covered. Callum would have let her pull on some of the backup trousers left in his abode, but he didn’t want her comfortable. A comfy warlock meant a fried snake tail.

Plus, he liked how she squirmed.

“Aye, how did ya come to be so…dirty?” he purred, reveling in the way she licked her lips quickly and glanced to her lap. Her everything was tense. Shoulders up to her ears, she was on high alert. Good. Be afraid, little viper. Maybe you won’t end up dead. Being scared means ye’ve got sense.

“Someone robbed the train. They killed my father and I kind of panicked” Kind of? His eyebrows went up into his hair as she bore holes into the table in front of her. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to hurt anyone else, but then the people on the train started acting like I was the monster. And maybe I am, because next thing I know, I wake up. Covered in blood, and I’m running from Paladins.”

“Hmm…so ye’ve not been a warlock for long, huh?” He pushed his arms up on his elbows and planted his chin on his folded hands.

“No,” she confessed with a huff. “How did you know?”

“Not many spellslingers I know can knock a pack of Paladins with an acid blast. Not really in their skill tree,” he teased. Her gaze finally darted up, and in the candlelight, her blue eyes were more silver with cracks of black than sapphires. Interesting. “Been some time since a warlock walked through Gloomsdale.”

She didn’t answer, instead staring directly at him. They sat there, locked in a contest for a while. He waited, having all the time in the world for her to fess up. She broke, after an impressive few minutes, exhaling heavily. “What do you want?”

“I want you to work for me.”

She blinked rapidly, mouth ajar. “What?”

“What? Like ye’ve got something else lined up?” He snorted, sitting back on his coiled tail.

“No one would hire a wretch like me,” she muttered.

“Oh, she splatters a couple heads and suddenly she’s a wretch,” he snickered under his breath. She glared at him, but those puffy lips of hers were trembling. Poor thing, this world is rough. Time to suck it up, buttercup. “Listen, ye’ve got a Paladin problem. I have a habit of getting’ rid of those. Work for me, pay off that debt, and yer a free warlock.”

The slight narrow of her eyes said she didn’t believe him. Ahhh, so clever, little viper. She shifted forward in her seat and finally put her fists over the top of the table. “What do you want me to do?”

“I have a lot of use for a warlock such as yerself. And besides, where else are ya gonna go? No coin, no clothes on yer back. Nothing but…well…this…” he shrugged, pulling out the rock from his bag. When he stripped her for the bath, the smooth opal tumbled out. At first, he thought it was the reason she blew up a whole train but the rock itself was nothing more than a simple enchantment. Pretty, but otherwise useless for one task. It didn’t interact with him, so he assumed it was attuned to the warlock.

However, when he fished it out, holding it up with two fingers her body language changed. Her eyebrows shot up, and she lunged like she might climb over the table. Callum immediately wrenched his arm backward and hung it high. A darkness he’d never seen came over her. A shadowy shroud draped over her face. Inky lace coated her skin, droplets of glossy obsidian dribbling out of her eyes. “That’s mine! Give it back!”

The sound of her voice was haunting. Dark and scratchy, she was possessed from beyond the grave. A shiver, cold and merciless, ran down the length of his spine into the tip of his tail. Her enchanted stone snapped out of his grip and reappeared in her cupped palms. With a blink, she was returned to her regular pallor. Eyes soft and full of regular tears as she hugged the rock to her chest.

How…intriguing.

He lifted up and she jerked back in her chair. Scrambling back into its embrace, she cried out. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I so—”

Callum whipped around the table and caught her by the chin. Her feet flailed, trying and failing to catch something to hold her up. Lifting her an inch out of her seat, he let her panic for a moment. Let her struggle to find her footing, her sharp inhale mixing with a ragged exhale through her nose. Even though it would behoove her to strike him, she didn’t. Avelina continued to clutch that useless rock to her chest and flung her legs left then right.

He set her back on her feet and locked her gaze in his. “That’s a mighty fine trick ye’ve learned.”

“I won’t do it again. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Tell me what the rock does,” he growled.

“It’s just a communication stone. My best friend got it for me. It only goes to her.”

“Nifty. Show me. Tell her yer alright, safe and sound.” He nodded at the rock that she slowly lifted to her mouth. Pressing her thumb to it, all the little grooves around the rock lit up and filled with magic. It was distinctly not hers, which meant someone made this for her. Before she could speak, he pushed her thumb off it with his finger, the light dying on the rock. “Never mind that. Best if this little trinket of yers sits here with me, yeah? Wouldn’t want you giving anyone the wrong idea that yer being mistreated.”