The Sprinter

Chapter 10

Eloise stared in horror at Arothena, and the utterly ridiculous plan that she had just put forth. She turned her head, mouth gaping, to look at the reaction of her other companions. It was as if she had suggested that they get a cup of tea. Salene merely raised one eyebrow, and lifted her hand to brush against her chin, shifting to lean on her smooth, pointed elbow. As she moved, Eloise could see the grace, the elegance that flowed through her very veins, because it was a part of her. She was Demi-Rellae. Aidrel got up, and declared in his coarse, yet gentle voice,

“I suppose we leave in the morning?”

Arothena nodded. Aidrel turned to leave, and Arothena rose to follow him. No doubt to prepare for the journey that was now ahead of them. Ronan also stood from the table.

“Where are you going?” Salene asked, her sweet voice surrounding the room, enveloping it like a fog.

“I’m going to get more bacon, since someone stole most of mine,” he said, casting a pointed glance at her, daring her to laugh. Despite her shock, Eloise smiled. These people - they still laughed. Smiled. Joked. Eloise had to admire them. Even if they were about to journey to Yuhnig, to King Jotkur.

Salene rose from her seat, feline grace incarnate as she made her way around the table and took up the seat next to Eloise. Ronan looked back at her, and she put her arm around Eloise, plastering a coy smile onto her face. Ronan rolled his eyes, and turned back to his bacon. Salene leaned in, her eyes never leaving Ronan’s back.

“Look carefully,” she whispered, her voice tickling her ear, “you see Ronan?”
Eloise nodded.
“You see how he’s tapping his foot?”
Again, she nodded.
“Just wait; he’s famously impatient. It won’t take long for him to leave. Wait."
Eloise waited. Salene had been right. Ronan’s impatience eventually got the better of him, and he strode off, his footsteps silent on the stone floor. At that moment, Salene left her chair, making a move for Ronan’s pan.
“And now he’s gone,” she said calmly, raising her voice slightly over the sizzling of the bacon as her eyes twinkled with villainy.

Eloise smiled back at her.

“I suppose,” she said, surprised at the amount of courage it took to speak, and realising how silent she had been previously, “that he’s not getting that bacon back.”

Salene smiled wickedly, and swept her hand across the pan. The bacon came up in her hand - it seemed to move for her, as if her hand was only there as a guide. A tribute to the grace gifted to her by her Rellae heritage. She lifted it up to her mouth, and devoured half of it in one bite, grease staining the edge of her pretty, ruby lips.

“Not all of it, at least. Besides, it’d burn if I didn’t take care of it,”

Eloise cast a grin at Salene, who returned it eagerly. She flipped the bacon, then brought the pan over to her, offering her a piece. She reached out to take it, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped her - freezing her hand in its place, halfway to the pan. Salene thrust it at her. She had barely grabbed a rasher before Salene had twirled it away, whisking it back to the kitchen as the tall, broad man stalked in through the doorway.

Not a man, she remembered. Rellae. Ronan is Rellae.

He seemed so unreal. A Rellae! She had loved the Rellae since she was five. Some of her first memories were the many nights she had spent sitting by her keeper and begging for tales about their warriors, their lovers and their dancers, all beautiful and captivating in their own, entrancing way, as immortals were. To actually be in the same room as one - she wasn’t sure whether the shock implanted within her was from fear or admiration. As he stalked over to Salene, and growled - actually growled at her, Eloise decided that it was both.

Salene smiled at him, pure daring villainy dancing in her emerald eyes as she tossed her hair back behind her shoulders.

“It’s payment,” she said, her voice turning clear and calculating.
“For what, may I ask?” Ronan replied, his voice turning low and dangerous. Eloise closed her hands into fists, her fingernails cutting into her palms to stop her hands shaking. Salene merely picked up another rasher of bacon. Ronan raised his eyebrows, and crossed his arms. Salene bit into it, baiting him, daring him to take what was his.

“My services as a fire woman, and thereby, the reason your bacon still exists. And isn’t on fire,” she added in a matter-of-fact tone.

Ronan smiled at her.

“I believe the tax is limited to one rasher. You, fire lady, have stolen three.”

Salene shrugged coyly and walked past him, towards the couch. Ronan turned to watch her, a hand hovering protectively over the remainders of his bacon. He transferred his food from the pan to his plate and came over, reclaiming his seat opposite Eloise. She tried to smile at him, hoping that it didn’t look too forced, but he didn’t take any notice.

Then, a knock sounded. And again. And again. Three knocks. Ronan looked up, grease dripping from his fangs. He ran his tongue over them, cleaning them, testing the points. Eloise suppressed a shiver. He rose from his seat silently, and prowled towards the window, every inch a Rellae-trained warrior, his immortal grace showing through in perfect clarity. He peered behind the edge of the curtain, his heightened senses no doubt aiding him in seeing details below that normal men would have deemed impossible.

He released the curtain, letting it fall back to its normal position. Ronan turned on his heel and stalked to the door, brushing his hand across Salene’s shoulder as he went. He pulled it open, half yanking it off its hinges with his incredible strength as he growled,

“We have to leave. Now.”

~****~