His eyes were burning, fiercer than she’d ever seen, and for the first time in a long time, Kett was a little afraid.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling her hand back. “Good to know.”
Bael looked down at his food, then said, “I heard a rumor you were in the army.”
Her brows went up. “From?”
“Your sister’s boyfriend. Lot of rumors about you, Kett.”
“Discount any of them that say I’m sane.”
Bael grinned, and Kett wished she’d said something else. “Sergeant Almet, Royal First of Foot.”
Bael tilted his head to one side. “Sergeant?”
“Yeah, and that didn’t come easy, I can tell you. Peneggan’s got equality laws, but it also has a fuckload of fossils running the place.” She dipped some bacon in her egg. “You know, there were only two other women in the army at the time, and one of them was the Lyonette.”
“The…?”
“Lyonette. Heir to the throne. Mostly a figurehead. They’re too scared to let her fight.” Remembering her fierce step-cousin, Kett snorted. “More fool them. The other woman was in logistics or something. Of course, that’s not counting nurses. Nursing is a proper job for women.”
“Right.” Bael watched her eat, his own food apparently forgotten. “So what did you do?”
“Marched, dug trenches, you know.”
“No,” he laughed, “I mean to get flogged.”
“Oh.” Kett narrowed her eyes again. “I…assaulted a superior officer.” Bael raised his eyebrows and she clarified, “I ripped his balls off.”
Bael flinched visibly. “Ripped…?”
Kett made a tearing motion with her free hand. Of course, at the time she’d used claws, but he didn’t need to know that.
“He deserved it,” she said, shrugging. “He did try to rape me.” She looked up at Bael to see if that dark look was back in his eyes again, but instead he was shaking his head.
“What the fuck was wrong with him? I mean-hell, Kett, when was this?”
“About ten years ago.”
“I can’t see you being a weakling then. You were the only woman in a combat role in the Peneggan army, right? Bet they were merciless with you. And you’re hardly a pushover at the best of times. What the fuck was wrong with that guy that he thought he could rape you? Did he at least have a weapon?”
“Briefly,” Kett said, and they shared a smile. It warmed her more than it should have. If Bael had gone all possessive on her, she might have been able to dismiss him. But this?
He seemed proud of her. It wasn’t something Kett was particularly used to.
This was actually…kind of nice.
She shook herself. Kind of nice was not something she wanted from Bael. She didn’t want anything from Bael. In point of fact-
“I said I wanted three eggs, over easy, and four sausages, you fucking numbskull, not three sausages and four fried fucking eggs!”
The loud voice was accompanied by a crash, and a woman’s sharp gasp. Kett met Bael’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen a fried fucking egg,” he said easily. “Possibly we should investigate.”
Kett gave him a smile that had little to do with kindness and rolled to her feet, fork in hand, turning to face the table behind her own.
Four large men sat there, burly with fat and muscle, unshaven, grimy, stinking of fish. Traders from the river. They were all laughing at the waitress, a dumpy girl with a red face, who was now wearing the fried eggs all over her dress and half apron. The shattered pieces of the plate rocked at her feet.
“Y-you said four eggs and three sausages,” she whispered.
“Don’t think I fucking did.” The main bully had a shaven head covered with a tattoo of a leering fish. Kett was impressed-she didn’t think fish could leer.
“I think you did,” Bael said from beside Kett. He offered the trader a friendly smile, but Kett could feel the tension in his body. There was a miniature crossbow hanging from her belt, a present from Tane, and she casually rested her hand on it.
The trader rose to his feet, his smile fading. He was built like a mountain, tall and broad, his neck about the same width as Kett’s waist. He towered over Bael, who wasn’t precisely tiny himself.
The café went completely silent. A couple near the door slipped outside, and for a moment the howling wind was the only sound in the room.
“What did you say?” the trader grunted.
“I think she brought you what you ordered,” Bael said, smiling at the terrified waitress.
The trader’s three friends rose to their feet.
“Where’s your boss, love?” Kett asked the waitress, and the woman pointed to a skinny man with a pencil moustache, cowering by the kitchen door. He didn’t look like he’d be a lot of help.
“Okay,” Kett sighed. She turned to the trader, who was glowering at a still-smiling Bael. “Here’s how it’s going to happen. You’re going to apologize to her, pay for your meal and walk out. All right?”
The trader turned his squinty eyes on her. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, woman,” he spat, making the word an insult, and Kett ached to jam her fork into his crotch.
“Not smart,” Bael said. “Really not smart. You don’t know who she is, do you?”
Kett flicked her eyes at him in sudden panic. No one ever believed she was her father’s daughter, and even if this monkey did, she didn’t expect it would do much but make him laugh.
“She is my woman,” Bael said, pride in his voice, “and if you insult her, you insult me.”
The trader peered down at Bael, breathed through his nose for a moment then roared with laughter. His big friends joined in.
Bael continued to smile pleasantly but Kett saw his outline shimmer slightly. Then, like water flowing to fill a shape, Var separated from Bael and took the form of a smallish tiger.
A tiger with canines the length of Kett’s forearm.
As if someone had stolen his voice, the trader stopped laughing, and under the laughter of his friends came the low growl of the sabertooth. It rose in pitch as the traders fell silent.
“And Var probably wouldn’t be very happy about it either,” Bael added conversationally.
“Don’t let him kill anyone,” Kett murmured, but she knew the traders could hear her. “The ngardaí cells are bloody freezing this time of year and my dad’s probably not inclined to get us out immediately.”
She let that sink in then turned to the waitress, who was doing a decent impression of a statue. “How much do they owe, love?”
“Seven and six,” the woman whispered.
“And a decent tip. Couple of sovereigns should do it,” Kett added to the trader, who was staring in horror at Var and the drool dripping from his fangs. Kett was pretty sure he was drooling over the sausages under the table, but she wasn’t about to let on.
“Pay,” Bael said, and the man fumbled for coins, scattering a handful on the table. Much more than he owed.
“Leave,” Kett said, but the door was already opening, and two broad-shouldered young gardaí stood there.
“Now then,” said the taller of them. “We’ve been told there was a disturbance going on here.”
“They got a wild animal,” said one of the traders quickly, pointing at Var, who leaned against Bael’s legs and purred.
“City ordinances state-” began the shorter of the guards.
“He’s not going to hurt anyone,” Kett said, and shot a warning glance at Bael. “Is he?”
“Not unless he has a reason to,” Bael said insolently, watching the traders edging toward the door.
“What’s been going on here?” asked the taller garda, eyeing Kett’s crossbow. “You got a permit for that?”
The other one said, “I’m going to call for backup.”
“Call Captain Tanner,” Kett said, because he was a friend of her family and a reasonable man. He also had a sense of humor.