Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson Read Free Book Online Page A

turned away before she could vent her annoyance. She’s probably decided I’m an ass . That shouldn’t bother him, but it did.
    Something about the woman threw him off balance. It wasn’t just that she’d popped into Alfheim as his ancestors had. She distracted him from his duty. He must get his men and the information for which they’d risked their lives safely home. Instead of thinking of that, he’d lingered this morning, enjoying the feel of her against him, and now he was rattled by her thanks for an ordinary courtesy. What was the matter with him? He was as taken with her as his men, admiring her stubborn courage and her long, lovely legs. He couldn’t afford that kind of distraction. None of them could. Not in hostile territory. He didn’t expect trouble from the Tewakwe, but the Outcasts and Renegades were still a threat. A very serious threat to a party as small as theirs.
    He signaled their departure to the others and tried not to think about how Lady Celia’s green eyes slanted over her high cheekbones. Instead, he forced himself to focus on Pathfinding the quickest way home to Nuvinland.
    The general direction was clear, even without the use of his Talent. But he could find the quickest or easiest route without the use of a map simply by concentrating on where he wanted to go. He needn’t have been there before, which made his Talent especially valuable for reconnaissance.
    Now that they were climbing into the hills, they walked single file, traveling in two groups of four while he took the lead. Sorn walked behind Lady Celia where he could keep an eye on her; Fendrikanin was in front to help her over the rough spots. Falsom ranged above them on the ridges, using his Talent of Heimdal’s Sight to scout their surroundings. The other team followed several minutes behind to lessen the risk of drawing the attention that a combined group might attract.
    Dahleven looked back at Lady Celia as she walked between Sorn and Fendrikanin. She looked down, concentrating on her footing. Then she glanced up and met his gaze. She frowned and her eyes narrowed again. Pointedly, she looked away from him.
    He continued to watch her over the course of the morning. Though he set a brisk pace, she didn’t lag.
    He regretted his brusqueness. It wasn’t his habit to be rude to women. She probably wasn’t responsible for the inconvenience she presented. She probably shouldn’t be blamed for the effect she had on the men, either. Nevertheless, her presence was a distraction. A woman, especially a beautiful woman, didn’t belong on a drylands mission. He and his men needed to stay focused and move quickly.
    Good advice. Now, all he had to do was follow it.

 
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    What a jerk !
    Cele refused to meet Dahleven’s eyes when he looked back at her, checking on her again. Well, she’d said she could keep up, and by God she would. Her legs ached and she felt a blister rising on her left heel, but she kept to the brisk pace he set.
    They traveled single file. Fendrikanin walked ahead of her, Sorn behind. Most of the sparse vegetation was comprised of thorn bushes, with the occasional Spanish Dagger-like plant thrown in. The group’s path twisted through the spiny growth. A careless hiker could easily find her leg impaled if she didn’t watch her step.
    Dahleven led the way with an unconscious grace. She’d seen that same smooth gait in some of the firemen she’d met and in her self-defense instructor. They walked with confidence, trusting their bodies to do whatever was needed. Dahleven moved the same way. He never hesitated or looked at a map, just forged ahead, never pausing, never slacking his pace. Just looking over his shoulder now and then to see if she was falling behind. Jerk .
    They walked in relative silence, the crunching of their footsteps on the sand the only noise. They didn’t talk, and Cele didn’t miss the conversation. She needed all her breath to keep up.
    The sun moved higher in the