“No. Peacians defend against warrior attacks. We can’t get onto your land.”
“Which is exactly why we’ll never see eye to eye. Enemies, even though soul-bound.” He marched off, and with no choice, I trekked after him.
Stupid mated bond. What power that be ever thought he and I should be mated, needed a good talking to. “Guy, wait up. You’re not personally my enemy.”
“I know.” He slowed, and then stopped in front of two swinging doors. He glanced through the top square glass panel of one. “We’re here. Don’t speak to anyone unless I give you the okay.”
“Gladly.” I didn’t want to communicate with these people anyway.
He held open the door and I snuck in. Two dozen trestle tables packed out the dining hall. Warrior men and woman sat in full training gear, their swords glinting from their sides.
Shuddering, I opened our link. “Okay, so why are they all so quiet? That’s highly abnormal for this many people in one room.”
“They’re speaking, just in hushed tones since most of us hold the advanced senses.”
“Protectors don’t worry about that. They just turn their receptors down so they can hear as they please.”
“We lower our voices instead. It’s called practice, for when we’re out in the field. It’s all about stealth.”
“Of course. I should have thought of that.” Everything they did probably pertained to training.
“Lead the way to the servery. We’ll draw attention to ourselves if we don’t move.” He waited one step behind.
“Shouldn’t you go first? I’m just the recruit.”
Guy pressed on my lower back. “That would be the custom, except I wish to guard your back.”
“Because…”
“You don’t fast-heal, and it’s not unusual for a warrior to test a new recruit on their first day out.”
“As in ‘toss-a-dagger’ test? Lovely bunch, aren’t you?”
“Stop stalling and start moving.”
“If a dagger comes my way, you’re welcome to step in its path.”
“You talk too much.”
“You hover too much.”
“Must you always argue?” He nudged me along.
“Absolutely. Where’s the fun in life, if you don’t?” I walked to the servery. No turning back. I was here, and I had a job to do, roomful of warriors included.
An array of food waited in deep metal dishes. Steam curled from the bacon and sausages, releasing a heavenly aroma. Potato hash overflowed the next dish, and kitchen staff topped up the last platter of scrambled eggs. At least I didn’t have to worry that Guy wasn’t eating well.
He passed me a plate and leaned in to my ear. “One day, we should have a meal on our own, just the two of us. We haven’t done that yet.” He eased back. “There’s toast, cold cereals and fruits farther down if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“No, this looks good. Hold out your plate.” I loaded our plates with the hot offerings.
He munched on a hash brown. “Do you have a favorite place to eat? You know, on…”
Why was he asking me that? “Ah, you sound suspiciously like you’re asking me out.”
“No.” He scratched his head. “I’m just curious.”
“Well, stop with the curiosity.” I side-stepped to the toast, buttered two slices and then added one to each of our plates.
He brushed against me. “Dralion’s beaches are predominantly black sand. They hold such heat. You’d like them.”
“Are you trying to tempt me?” Because boy, he might with that kind of comment.
“Maybe.” He took my plate along with his. “We’ll sit with Vitaria. She’s a new recruit too.”
He led the way to the far corner where it was quietest. That totally suited me. We approached a young woman. Her white-blond hair was cut into a short bob, the ends flicking softly out. She jiggled in her chair as she spotted Guy. “Hey, you’re back. You said you’d be in the outback this morning.”
“I had a change of plans.” Guy edged onto the wooden bench and set our plates down. “Vitaria, meet Silvie Moyer. She’s testing the waters like you are. Silvie, Vitaria.”
“Hi.” I sat, keeping to the other side of Guy.
“Nice to meet you.” She beamed and reached out a hand, the short dagger sheathed at her wrist nicking her skin.
“Um, you should watch that.” I ignored her hand, but pointed at the blade.
She followed my gaze. “Oh, I keep forgetting to pick up a new casing from supplies. Thanks.” She unstrapped the blade and set in on the table. “So, a Moyer? Are you related to Guy?”
“His cousin. A fourth or fifth.” Grinning, I knocked my shoulder against Guy’s. “We played together as kids.”
“Don’t let your food get cold.” Guy poured a glass of milk from the jug on the table then set it in front of me. “Drink that too. It’s good for you.”
“Did I say cousin? I meant Dad.” And since our people didn’t physically age past our eighteenth year, not a gray hair or a wrinkle, I could easily run with that scenario.
“It’s cousin, and rein in your—”
“Playfulness?”