The Deceiver's Heart (The Traitor's Game 2) - Page 30

Immediately a plan began to form in my mind. Three leaves consumed directly were lethal, but if I diluted only two of them in Simon’s water skin, he’d get sick enough that I could easily make an escape.

I didn’t know where I’d go afterward or how I’d get there. But at last, I had a plan, and any guilt for what I was about to do was muted when I remembered that it was his fault I was here in the first place.

I picked the leaves and stuffed them into my boot just as Simon sat down across from me. His eyes fixed on mine, solemn and intense, and I felt a tightening in my belly, heat rushing through me. I could no longer deny that I was drawn to him in ways I couldn’t explain and certainly couldn’t understand, but the pull was as real to me as the binding cord on my wrist. It frightened me, and yet I was still staring back at him.

After a moment, he said, “I owe you an apology for what I said earlier. You didn’t deserve that.”

I said nothing and became the first to look away.

He added, “If it feels like a lot of different groups have been fighting over you, then there’s a reason for it.”

“What does it matter?” I let out a sarcastic, humorless laugh. “Whatever their reasons, they are mistaken. There is nothing special about me, nothing noteworthy. There is nothing to me at all, and I don’t know how to make you see that.”

When I looked up, his gaze back at me had sof

tened. “Do you really believe that of yourself?”

I wasn’t about to surrender to the tender expression in his eyes or the gentleness in his voice. Arching my neck, I said, “Whatever I believe, you or someone else will be there to tell me I’m wrong.”

“You are wrong, Kes. If you describe yourself in such small terms, then you are wrong.”

I needed to escape this conversation. Escape him. Something about his presence kept my pulse uneven, and I couldn’t allow it to continue. But as soon as I began walking, he stood and pulled on the binding cord, stopping me.

“I’m trying to help you, but I need your help.” Simon closed the distance between us. “Can you trust me, maybe a little? I am your friend, Kes.”

I laughed again, keeping my defenses up. “A Corack and a Dallisor, friends? If you wanted to lie, you could have done better than that.”

“We were friends. Even something more.”

“I love Basil.” Why had I said that? I didn’t love Basil, and he’d never made my heart race the way it now was.

Simon didn’t even blink at my words. “You don’t love him. You were only following orders to marry him.”

He stepped closer to me, and I countered with a step back. “If we were friends, I would remember it. I’d remember how I feel … when you’re close.”

He took another step toward me, and this time I refused to step back, refused to acknowledge that strange emotions were flaring up within me, filling my chest until it seemed I couldn’t breathe. I fought them, tried to push them down or to ignore them, but the harder I tried, the stronger they became.

As he drew even closer, he asked softly, “How do I make you feel?”

“Nauseous.”

That wasn’t true. There was a fierceness in his eyes that kept me as captive in his gaze as I was with this binding cord. When his fingers brushed against mine, a shiver raced up my spine, though I couldn’t explain why. I only knew that when his glance shifted down to my lips, my heart stopped altogether.

Then his hand went to my cheek, cupping it in his palm. He was so close to me, his face nearly against mine. His body even closer. I couldn’t catch my breath.

That single thought triggered something in me, something deeper than emotion or reason. It was familiarity, a memory just beyond my reach.

It set my heart racing in an entirely different way than it ever had before. What was happening to me?

“We’ve been here before, Kes, in a different place, but in this very position. Do you remember it?”

I barely heard him. Panic was exploding within me. I wanted to hide or fight, or to escape from some terrible danger I couldn’t see, but which I certainly felt. Invisible walls seemed to press in around me, blocking out my air. Why couldn’t I breathe?

I pushed Simon back, drawing a harsh breath as I did. Struggling for my next breath.

Simon looked at me, eyes widened with concern. “It’s all right, Kes. Everything is fine.”

How could he say that? Nothing was fine! Why had he come so close? Why had he looked at me that way, made me feel that way? And why had it stirred up such feelings of panic?

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen The Traitor's Game Fantasy
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