The Assassin's Blade
Page 66

She glanced at him sidelong. “Not the way I thought it would.”
“I’m surprised he accepted the money without a fight.”
She didn’t say anything. In the dim light, Sam took a ragged breath.
“I think I might leave,” he whispered.
She almost tripped. “Leave?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m going down to Eyllwe—to Banjali, to be precise.”
“For a mission?” It was common for Arobynn to send them all over the continent, but the way Sam was speaking felt … different.
“Forever,” he said.
“Why?” Her voice sounded a little shrill in her ears.
He faced her. “What do I have to tie me here? Arobynn already mentioned that it might be useful to firmly establish ourselves in the south, too.”
“Arobynn—” she seethed, fighting to keep her voice to a whisper. “You talked to Arobynn about this?”
Sam gave her a half shrug. “Casually. It’s not official.”
“But—but Banjali is a thousand miles away.”
“Yes, but Rifthold belongs to you and Arobynn. I’ll always be … an alternative.”
“I’d rather be an alternative in Rifthold than ruler of the assassins in Banjali.” She hated that she had to keep her voice so soft. She was going to splatter someone against a wall. She was going to rip down the sewer with her bare hands.
“I’m leaving at the end of the month,” he said, still calm.
“That’s two weeks away!”
“Do I have any reason why I should stay here?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed as loudly as she could while still maintaining a hushed tone. “Yes, you do.” He didn’t reply. “You can’t go.”
“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Because what was the point in anything if you just disappear forever?” she hissed, splaying her arms.
“The point in what, Celaena?” How could he be so calm when she was so frantic?
“The point in Skull’s Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in … the point in telling Arobynn that you’d forgive him if he never hurt me again.”
“You said you didn’t care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I lied! And you know I lied, you stupid bastard!”
He laughed quietly. “You want to know how I spent this summer?” She went still. He ran a hand through his brown hair. “I spent every single day fighting the urge to slit Arobynn’s throat. And he knew I wanted to kill him.”
I’ll kill you! Sam had screamed at Arobynn.
“The moment I woke up after he beat me, I realized I had to leave. Because I was going to kill him if I didn’t. But I couldn’t.” He studied her face. “Not until you came back. Not until I knew you were all right—until I saw that you were safe.”
Breathing became very, very hard.
“He knew that, too,” Sam went on. “So he decided to exploit it. He didn’t recommend me for missions. Instead, he made me help Lysandra and Clarisse. He made me escort them around the city on picnics and to parties. It became a game between the two of us—how much of his horseshit I could take before I snapped. But we both knew he’d always have the winning hand. He’d always have you. Still, I spent every day this summer hoping you’d come back in one piece. More than that—I hoped you’d come back and take revenge for what he’d done to you.”
But she hadn’t. She’d come back and let Arobynn shower her with gifts.
“And now that you’re fine, Celaena, now that you’ve paid off your debt, I can’t stay in Rifthold. Not after all the things he’s done to us.
She knew it was selfish, and horrible, but she whispered, “Please don’t go.”
He let out an uneven breath. “You’ll be fine without me. You always have been.”
Maybe once, but not now. “How can I convince you to stay?”
“You can’t.”
She threw down the torch. “Do you want me to beg, is that it?”
“No—never.”
“Then tell me—”
“What more can I say?” he exploded, his whisper rough and harsh. “I’ve already told you everything—I’ve already told you that if I stay here, if I have to live with Arobynn, I’ll snap his damned neck.”
“But why? Why can’t you let it go?”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Because I love you!”
Her mouth fell open.
“I love you,” he repeated, shaking her again. “I have for years. And he hurt you and made me watch because he’s always known how I felt, too. But if I asked you to pick, you’d choose Arobynn, and I. Can’t. Take. It.”
The only sounds were their breathing, an uneven beat against the rushing of the sewer river.
“You’re a damned idiot,” she breathed. “You’re a moron and an ass and a damned idiot.” He looked like she had hit him. But she went on, and grasped both sides of his face, “Because I’d pick you.”
And then she kissed him.
 
 
CHAPTER
10
 

She’d never kissed anyone. And as her lips met his and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him, she honestly had no idea why she’d waited so long. His mouth was warm and soft, his body wondrously solid against hers, his hair silken as she threaded her fingers through it. Still, she let him guide her, forced herself to remember to breathe as he eased her lips apart with his own. When she felt the brush of his tongue against hers, she was so full of lightning she thought she might die from the rush of it. She wanted more. She wanted all of him.
She couldn’t hold him tight enough, kiss him fast enough. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat, so full of need she felt it in her core. Lower than that, actually.
She pushed him against the wall, and his hands roamed all over her back, her sides, her hips. She wanted to bask in the feeling—wanted to rip off her suit so she could feel his callused hands against her bare skin. The intensity of that desire swept her away.
She didn’t give a damn about the sewers. Or Doneval, or Philip, or Arobynn.
Sam’s lips left her mouth to travel along her neck. They grazed a spot beneath her ear and her breath hitched.
No, she didn’t give a damn about anything right now.
 
It was nighttime when they left the sewers, hair disheveled and mouths swollen. He wouldn’t let go of her hand during the long walk back to the Keep, and when they got there, she ordered the servants to send dinner for them to her room. Though they stayed up long into the night, doing a minimal amount of talking, their clothes remained on. Enough had happened today to change her life, and she was in no particular mood to alter yet another major thing.
But what had happened in the sewer …
Celaena lay awake that night, long after Sam had left her room, staring at nothing.
He loved her. For years. And he’d endured so much for her sake.
For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. She’d been nothing but horrible to him, and had repaid any kindness on his part with a sneer. And what she felt for him …