Flames lit in her eyes. “Not enough if you plan to stay.”
He paused and studied her white-knuckled grip on the bottle. The silence stretched between them before he said in a softer voice, “I know you told Brennen you wanted to be alone but—” He shifted like his body ached then sank down beside her and stretched his long legs. Maybe the ride wore on him too. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at taking orders.”
The muscles in his neck strained, as if he were in pain, but his face gave nothing away. As always, he was dressed in a soft black shirt, the sleeves cuffed at his elbows, his scarred forearms on display.
“You don’t like wearing colour, do you?” she observed.
“That’s an odd way of saying I look handsome in black.”
“Will they kick you out of the villain’s guild if you don’t?”
Destonne snorted and fiddled with his cuff. The top two buttons on his shirt were open, a vee of scarred skin on display. Emmery averted her gaze to look literally anywhere else. At that moment, Aera rose from her lap, flapped her wings playfully, then soared into the tree across from them.
“For fashion then?” she suggested. “To solidify your hardened, terrifying image?”
He turned to her, a challenge in his eyes. “Why don’t we make a deal?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I told you, I don’t make deals with villains.”
“And yet”—he flashed her the thorn-strangled rose on his palm—“here we are.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “You like challenges, don’t you?”
Too exhausted to tamp down her curiosity, she gave a hesitant nod.
“Let’s play a game.” He pulled a coin from his pocket then twirled it between his perfectly manicured fingers. “It’s called saber or serpent.”
Emmery’s brows pulled together. “What in the world is a saber?”
He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose they don’t exist in the mortal lands. They’re known as noble truth tellers in legend. They look like a lion with three tails and long fangs. They were rumoured to be Deimos’s dearest pets.”
Destonne pressed the coin into her palm, careful not to touch her.
It was a unique piece of silver, about the same size as mortal currency but with six blunt, squared edges and a playful shimmer of gold beneath the surface. On each side was a different creature, the saber with acavaeand the serpent azvezda. The saber, she now realized, was on Asaella’s crest. Noble truth tellers—what a joke that was.
“How do I play?” she asked.
“It’s simple. Ask a question and the other person flips. If it lands saber side up, you must answer honestly. If it lands on the serpent, you may tell a truth or lie.” He studied her face like he shucked away her carefully crafted layers. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a game of integrity. So, no cheating. You can’t just lie your way through it. That would bedishonest.”
Yet he would never know if she did. What a strange game to play with the King of Lies. Surely he would shape his answers to fit whatever agenda he had for this conversation.
“You first.” She pressed the coin back into his hand. “Explain the black ensemble.”
Destonne flipped and caught it in his fist.Serpent.
She glowered at the coin, convinced he rigged the game somehow.
“Black hides the blood,” he drawled.
The answer came so easily, Emmery narrowed her eyes. “That felt honest.”
“Did it?Hmmm.” The corner of his lips twitched as he flipped the coin into her waiting hand. “Your turn. What upset you?”
Before she could overthink it, she flicked it into the air, and gritted her teeth as it landed, sure the slice of metal would betray her.
Saber. Damn it.
Emmery’s chest tightened. This was an admission she wasn’t ready to make, a weakness she didn’t want to reveal, especially to him. So she spouted the first thing that came to mind. “It was something Reize said.”
“That’s hardly an answer.” He studied her with the intensity of a treasure hunter uncovering a long-lost map to riches.