Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
“Well, I should get going,” I say, moving away from the desk before they start making kissy noises at each other or something embarrassing. “I promised I’d cover Kerta’s nestmaid shift, and I need to go home and change out of these sweaty clothes. Thanks for the chitchat, Sparrow. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Her face glows at my use of her name. She gives me a quiet thumbs-up and I know she’ll keep my secrets. My relief feels intense, as if I can suddenly breathe again.
At her side, her Taurian husband is sniffing the air. “Did Raptor come by?”
I freeze in place. Damn Taurians and their elite senses. I scrubbed at the mess the big white Taurian had left between my thighs earlier, but perhaps I didn’t do enough.
“No, why?” Sparrow glances up at Hawk.
“I’m picking up his scent.” His bullish mouth pulls into a frown and he eyes the room, nostrils flaring.
I decide to play dumb. “Is he an oversized sort of bull with a white face and vicious horns?” I wiggle my fingers by my temples in an imitation of horns. “There’s a big male like that in the hospital. I was cleaning in his room earlier.”
Hawk relaxes. “That must be it.”
“Well then, I really had best be going,” I chirp in a bright voice. I need to bathe again once I get back to the nestmaid quarters to ensure that no one picks up the scent of Taurians—or sex—on me. “See you soon, Sparrow!”
One more month, I remind myself. I just need to lie low for one more month.
Surely I can manage that.
Four
Raptor
Weeks Later
It’s never a good sign when I’m called into the head guild master’s office. I like to spend my time on the fringes, because you can get away with a lot more. Unfortunately, it seems that I’ve caught Rooster’s attention in some way. Lucky me. It means he’s about to assign me a muck-ton of extra work, or someone important has gotten lost in the tunnels and every single Taurian in the guild is being called to action, even the more recently injured ones like me.
But when I get to Rooster’s office, I’m surprised to see that there’s no one else waiting except for Hawk. Master Hawk, I remind myself, proud of my friend. Took him a long mucking time to get some recognition, and I’m glad for him…but the fact that we’re here alone with Rooster means nothing good.
Rooster is seated behind the heavy, ostentatious wooden desk of the head guild master, his short arms resting on the surface. “Please close the door behind you, Artificer.”
Well, that’s not a bad sign. He doesn’t know my name. To him I’m just another Taurian, another set of hooves to send into the tunnels to do the hard work. I glance over at Hawk, who’s seated on the other side of the desk, but his expression is impossible to read. I shut the door behind me and then move forward to take the seat next to Hawk, opposite the head of the guild.
“Your wounds look like they’ve healed well,” Hawk says, nodding at me in greeting. “How are your eyes?”
“Good as new,” I reassure him with a lazy grin, putting on an air of casualness I don’t feel. I rub the bare patch on my skull that covers my head from horns to just below my eyes. “The healers say the fur here will grow back, too. Good thing, as I’d hate to disappoint the ladies without even a sexy scar to show for my troubles.”
“A sexy scar?” Rooster echoes, his expression sour.
“Sure.” I sprawl my legs out in front of me, making sure to take up as much space as possible. I slouch on the delicate wooden chair, meant for human builds and not Taurian ones, and cross my arms over my chest. “Hard to impress pretty girls when half your head looks like a roasted chicken.”
Hawk says nothing.
Rooster’s expression grows sourer, his small hands clasped on the desk in front of him as if he’s some sort of penitent monk. Even for a human, Rooster’s a small, squat type. The desk dwarfs him, and I mentally picture him sitting on a cushion to make himself appear taller. It feels like something he’d do. If he doesn’t get up during this meeting, I’m probably right.
The guild master politely scratches the side of his nose, and it makes the healing patches on my face itch in response. “You mention females. I’ve heard that you headed for the brothels the moment you left the hospital. Is there…a problem?”
“No problem. I just like the ladies,” I say, voice flat. My tail twitches. Neither knows that I’ve got the god’s hand upon me. That I’m forced to rely upon illegal magic potions that keep my knot from making me crazed at all times and I was out of my potion recently. That I needed a woman while at the hospital. I don’t want to tell anyone that I’ve been obsessively hunting for Sarya since the moment the bandages were removed. No one needs to know I’m infatuated with a sex worker who likely thinks of me as little more than another job.