LONG ROAD AHEAD

7

The gaming house was full of rowdy gamblers and women of easy virtue looking to make some coin. Craven insisted Phoenix stay close to him while they toured the gaming hall for her protection. What he did not seem to understand was she did not need his protection, but it was easier to humour him than to argue. They found the proprietor of the gaming hall and requested a room only to receive the same response they had gotten at the inn.

            “I’m sorry, Sir, I have rented the last of my rooms, but please feel free to stay and play for a while,” he welcomed them before moving on to deal with some others.

            Craven stood beside Phoenix, looking out over the gaming tables. “No rooms. I suppose we could try the bar,” he suggested.

            Phoenix noticed a card game with seats open, and an idea came to mind. “Can you play cards?” She asked.

            “I have from time to time, but I hardly think this is the time for games. We need to find a place to stay.”

            Phoenix smiled up at him; for a smart man, he was slow. “On the contrary, Craven, this is the perfect time for playing games,” she said, heading for the table. Phoenix pushed her cloak back over her shoulders to show off her womanly charms as she reached the table. She offered a dazzling smile as the men at the table took notice of her. “Might I buy my way into the game?” She asked.

            A chuckle rose up from the table. “You want to play?” One man laughed. “This is the big boy's table, darling,” he was tall and thin, with a long hooked nose and one good eye. The other was covered with a hide skin patch. He must have lost it some years ago. 

            “Afraid to play a wee slip of a girl?” Craven goaded the men as he took the only other free seat at the table while placing his funds on the tabletop buying his way into the game.

            “Not at all,” the man snapped, insulted by the inference that a mere woman could intimidate him. “She is welcome to lose her money at our table if the others welcome her,” a sudden agreeable mumble went around the table. No one wanted to be the one to deny her now and be called a coward for his trouble.

            Phoenix took the last seat at the table. Taking her small purse from her belt, she placed it atop the table and bought herself into the card game. “Do you even know how to play cards?” Another gentleman at the table asked as he placed his drink down while he watched the dealer shuffled the deck. He was short, almost as short as she was but easily the oldest at the table and stark bold, his head clean-shaven with a blade. 

            Phoenix offered the table an innocent smile. “Oh, I am sure I will pick up on it,” the other players laughed as they began to receive their cards. If there was one thing that served Phoenix well in life, it was a misconception. It never failed to work to her benefit to pretend to be simple. Though she came off as foolish, she was far from stupid. By the time those around her caught on, it was far too late.  

            “It is too easy.” Laughed the third man at the table. He was the youngest of the three as he dealt the cards. “I almost feel guilty for taking your money,” he smirked. “Almost.”

            Phoenix took her cards, giving them a quick look. She glanced up a Craven who had just done the same. She then studied the face of each man at the table as they viewed their cards and decided the best course of action to take. The man with the eye patch took two cards, the older one took three, Craven took one, and the dealer held. He must have had a good hand. Phoenix took another look at her hand then took three of her own.

            Each man placed their bet, and the bluffs went around the table. Craven raised, as did the man with the eye patch. Phoenix called, and the older man followed her lead. The dealer raised, Craven matched his bet, but the man with the patch folded before Phoenix called. The older man folded, and again, the dealer raised the stakes with a smug smile on his face. Craven tossed his cards face down on the table folding, and it came down to Phoenix.

            “Well, darling, it looks like it is just you and I? Will you call or fold?” He asked, relaxed in his seat.

            “Oh, gee,” she said, biting her bottom lip like she could not decide. “I’m just not sure. That is a lot of money, and I was supposed to use it to buy a room,” she said sweetly.

            He flashed her a brazen grin. “I’ll tell you what. Since you are so pretty, if you lose all your money tonight, you can come to my room with me,” he offered, suggestively winking at her.

            “You have a room here in the gaming hall?” She asked coyly.

            “I do,” he admitted. That was all she had wanted to hear. Phoenix called and then raised. “A bold move,” he smirked.

            “I like to live on the edge,” she smiled.

            He matched her bet and then laid out his cards. “A flush, darling,” he grinned, reaching for the pot.

            Phoenix reached out and placed her hand over his to stop him as she placed her cards atop his. “A royal flush,” she smirked. Phoenix gathered up her winnings and sat back in her seat as she observed the surprised faces at the table. She flashed them an innocent grin. “Beginner’s luck?” She giggled innocently.

            They played for three hours. Craven won a few hands as did the others, but for the most part, Phoenix cleaned up. She took the table for a big score, and soon, the other players were preparing to leave the game, having lost enough money for the night. She had periodically thrown a few hands to keep the young one in the game just long enough to get what she wanted from him.

            Finally, the opportunity she had been waiting for presented itself. She had come to notice his tells. He impatiently tapped his finger on the table each time he thought he had a good hand. He was down to his last few dollars and was eager to win some of his money back. Phoenix looked at the cards she held and raised the stakes far more than she knew he had left, then waited for his counter.

            He shifted in his seat, awkwardly for a moment, looking at his cards and contemplating his options. “I’m afraid I am at a disadvantage. I have nothing left to match your bet.”

            Phoenix smiled. She finally had him where she wanted him. “I would be willing to accept something of equal value as collateral,” she offered.

            He searched through his pockets. “What could I have that you would want?”

            “Perhaps your room?” She suggested. He stared at her for a moment considering the risk. “Of course, you could always just fold,” she offered. If he folded, he lost everything and conceded defeat. She was betting his pride would not allow that to happen.

            “No,” he snapped, taking his key and tossing it into the pot. “I call, lay down your hand, little lady,” he said, turning over four queens.

            Phoenix flipped over her cards to reveal four aces and smiled as she claimed her winnings, quickly snatching up the key and placing it in her pocket. She gathered her winnings, tossing them into the satchel Phoenix rose from the table. “Well, gentlemen, it has been a pleasure, but I think I will turn in. Good-night,” she and Craven gathered their things and headed for the stairs that led up to the second story where the rented rooms were.

            “That was quite the hustle,” Craven remarked as they mounted the steep stairs.

            “I got us a room, did I not?” She said as they reached the top and turned down the hall. “Now, all we must do is find the door that this key unlocks,” she said, trying the key in the first door and then the next.

            “Are you going to try every door until one opens?” He asked.

            “Do you have a better plan?” She asked.

            “We could have asked him which room it was before we left the table.”

            “Perhaps, but the fact remains that we didn’t, and now we are here,” she said, trying another door and then another. Finally, one opened. “See, that was not so hard.”

***

            Phoenix went inside, and Craven followed close behind her, locking the door. It was a simple room with a blacked-out window, a small table with a candle for light, and something to sleep on. The floor was bare unfinished wood, as were the walls. It was a small enough room with an old rusted bed, night table, and very little walking space.

            Craven looked at the dimensions of the room and realized that he would never fit laid out on the little space left on the floor. He was going to have to sleep with Phoenix in the bed. There was simply no other option. She came to the same conclusion when she spoke first. “We’ll have to share the bed,” Phoenix said, placing her bow and quiver on the floor against the wall. He watched as she removed her shotgun and weapons belt, placing them on the tabletop, preparing to make herself comfortable for the night. She then removed her heavy cloak and laid it out over the bed.

            “I suppose we will,” Craven agreed, following suit as he laid his arsenal out on the table. He took off his cloak and placed it on the bed. Craven removed the last of their food from the satchel. He handed Phoenix half of what was left, and they sat down on the bed to feed their bellies. Craven looked in the satchel, counting her winnings. It was quite the haul. “You won quite a bit. Where did you learn to play cards?” He asked, intrigued by her skill.

            “I spent a few months in a sanctuary. The priests that took me in taught me to play. It was their favourite pastime; of course, they did not bet money,” she smiled.

            “A priest taught you to play cards?” He chuckled. “Well, I suppose I have heard stranger things. Why were you in a sanctuary?” Phoenix went suddenly quiet and stopped eating. Her smile was gone, and she simply stared at the food in her hand. Craven could not shake the feeling he had struck a chord with her. When she did not answer, he changed the subject. “I have an idea. We’re not going to need this much coin; it is only going to weigh us down anyway. What do you say we take some of it downstairs? We get drunk and live it up for the night. Enjoy some entertainment, and have some fun before we head out again. We have nothing better to do, and I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

            “That is not a bad idea,” Phoenix agreed as she continued to finish her meagre meal. “Did your father teach you to play cards?” She asked casually.

            Craven leaned lazily against the rusted-out iron headboard. “Yeah. He was good at cards. He taught my mother too. We would waste away nights just sitting around playing cards until the cards themselves were so worn out you could not even read them anymore,” he said with found memory. He missed his parents very much. They had been good people. Finishing his meal, Craven tossed the bones out the window, locking it shut once more when he was done. “Come on, let’s go back downstairs,” he said, taking one gun with him for security.

            Phoenix stood up and took hold of the satchel. They each took a portion of the winnings filling their pockets. Phoenix saw to it that the door was locked before they left, and Craven watched intently as she slipped the room key down the front of her shirt for safekeeping. “To elude pickpockets,” she smiled. “Trust no one.”

            “You are a very cynical person,” he teased.

            “It is a very cynical world.”

            Downstairs they avoided the card tables heading straight for the bar where they bought themselves a few drinks and enjoyed the house musicians. After a few drinks, Phoenix was smiling and laughing once more when she had gotten the urge to dance. There were already a few others out on the floor dancing when she decided to get up and join them. She grabbed Craven’s hand, trying to coax him to come out on the floor and join her, but he was not having any of it. He could not dance, and he was not interested in making a fool of himself.

            Giving up on him, Phoenix went out on the floor alone and, like the others, began to shake and shimmy to the music. It was hypnotic the way her hips shook and rolled. Like a snake charmer, she had him, and the surrounding men, entranced. Her body rocked, and the men flocked to watch. It was not long before one got brave enough to try to dance with her.

            Craven watched from his seat at the bar as the other man mirrored Phoenix, taking his chances and moving close enough their bodies almost touched as they moved together. Craven scowled at the amused smile on Phoenix’s face as she gazed up at the man that was currently amusing her. She had never looked at him that way, he thought with minor annoyance.

            From the sidelines, Craven noticed the young man they had been playing cards with stalk out on the dance floor and shove the other guy aside, cutting in aggressively to dance with Phoenix. Phoenix glared at him for his intrusion, and Craven could see words pass between them, but from where he sat, he could not hear a word either spoke. He could infer they were not pleasant from the scowl on Phoenix’s pretty face.

            Suddenly his hand shot up and closed around her throat, and Craven shot to his feet and closed the distance between them in seconds. “You are a cheat, and I want my room and money back, you dirty little wench,” the man growled.

            Craven pulled his pistol and pressed the barrel to the side of the irate man’s head. “She cheated no one. You lost fair and square,” Craven growled. “You had better release the girl before I ruin the floor with your blood,” he released Phoenix and held his hands up in surrender. “Wise.”

            “So, you are in this together. I should have known she was your w***e,” he said with contempt.

            “I am no man’s w***e,” Phoenix snarled, balling up her little hand into a tight fist and slugging him with all her might. He stumbled back a few feet and shook his head, his hand coming up to his jaw to cradle his injury. Craven could not help but laugh. She had a mean right hook for such a spunky little thing. Phoenix immediately turned her enraged gaze on him. “And I did not need rescuing,” she barked at him. “I had it under control.”

            She was now yelling at him, and all he had done was try to help her. “Excuse me?” Craven snapped back defensively.

            “You heard me,” she growled and stormed off.

            Craven holstered his weapon and began to follow her. Why did women always walk away when they started fights? “I was only trying to help.”

            “I didn’t ask you to.”

            “You couldn’t. He was choking you,” he pointed out as they reached the stairs.

            “I had the matter under control.”

            “I could tell by the lack of air. Tell me, what was the plan? Were you going to kick his butt before or after you fainted from lack of oxygen?” He mocked.

            “I have gotten by just fine without you this long, and I sincerely resent the fact that you feel I need your protection simply because I am a woman. I don’t need rescuing,” she stressed, taking the key from her top and unlocking the door. The act was momentarily distracting him from their argument.

            They went inside, and Craven shut the door and locked it. “Fine next time, I will let him kill you.”

            “I wish you would,” she snipped, placing the key on the table and crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need a man,” she growled.

            “A man is exactly what you need,” he muttered to himself. She was uptight and temperamental; she needed a good stiff one between those creamy thighs to help work off some of that pent-up stress.

            “Excuse me?” She snapped, glaring daggers at him. Clearly, he had muttered too loudly.

            He didn’t care anymore about avoiding a fight. She might have a feisty temper, but he was not exactly a calm summer’s breeze himself. He was sure he could hold his own. “You heard me,” he growled back, standing tall, he squared off against her.

            “Typical man to think everything revolves around his lower extremities,” she said, harshly straightening her back and squaring her shoulders.

            “Perhaps if you got laid more, you’d be less bitter,” he snarled down at her, standing toe to toe.

            “What on earth would I want to put myself through that for? So, some smelly filthy old man with something the size of my little finger can grunt like a rutting pig on top of me for five minutes… and I’m being generous, leaving me bored and unsatisfied,” she scoffed. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

            Craven pause a moment, he searched her smoky eyes for sarcasm and was surprised to find none. She really, truly, genuinely disliked s*x. “Is that what happened to you?” He asked curiously. “Has that been your experience? A shrivelled old man rutting like swine?” Phoenix quietly withdrew her gaze from his. His heart went out to her. It was a lousy experience. It was no wonder she disliked the idea of being with a man when the only experience she had to draw on was ghastly. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he promised. “It can be quite enjoyable.”

            Phoenix laughed. “Sure, if you are a man, it’s a blast, but for a woman, it’s often painful, unsatisfying, and degrading,” she said, sitting down on the bed.

            “And how is it you know that?” He asked. “Do you have much experience?”

            “No,” she snapped bitterly. “I know because I grew up listening to my mother cry afterwards. Every time,” she said, looking down at her hands. “And when I was given to the brothel, the other women told me their secrets to get through it without breaking down. To go somewhere else in your head and do your best to leave your body while they abuse you,” she said with venom. “So, you see, I have more than enough second-hand knowledge to decide it is not for me.”

            Craven sat down beside her on the bed. He had never known his mother to be unhappy with his father. Nor had he ever known a woman to be left unhappy when he left their bed. He could not believe that what she said was true for all women. “I’m sorry you’ve had such bad examples, but I assure you it is not always like that. There are men out there that take the time to see to your pleasure as well as his own. The experience can be mutually enjoyable. You should not give up on it completely, maybe just chose a bit more wisely,” he suggested.

            Phoenix scoffed, not believing a single word he spoke. There would be no changing her mind with words. She had been burnt far too often in her short life to trust mere words. If he were to convince her of anything, he would have to show her.

            Craven captured her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to his. His mouth captured hers in a soft but eager kiss. Her lips tasted sweet from the drinking. His tongue slid over the part of her lips, coaxing her mouth open, and when those lush, plump lip parted to his invasion, Craven deepened his kiss. His fingers caressed her face and twined in her hair, pulling her closer as he kissed her, his desire growing when she began to kiss him back.

            A fire sparked inside him, and Craven knew he had to have her. His mouth ate at hers; he pushed Phoenix back against the bed, his powerful body half covering hers. His hand moved to her waist and slowly slid up her body. Craven froze instantly when he felt something sharp pressed firmly between his legs. He stared down into Phoenix’s smoky eyes.

            “Did you enjoy that?” She asked softly. “I certainly hope so because it will never happen again,” she said, giving her hunting knife a twitch and causing him to jump from the contact. “Unless you wish to wake up with an amputation. Now, if you will kindly get off me,” Craven moved carefully as he shifted his weight and climbed off Phoenix.

            “A simple stop would have sufficed,” he said, keeping his distance, and she sheathed her knife.

            “Not in my experience,” she said, rolling over in bed and taking the spot nearest the wall. She tapped her hand to the hilt of her knife as a reminder that she would use it if he tried anything during the night, then she closed her eyes for the night. Craven was a bit leery now of getting into bed with her, but he did. He laid down and gave her his back. He would sleep lightly this evening and hopefully wake in one piece.            

***

            Adam coughed hard, his lungs aching from the effort. He frowned at the blood he saw in his handkerchief. There was more and more lately. He wiped his lips and tucked the stained cloth into his pocket as he sat down at the table with the two burly men that had just come into the bar. The meeting had been set up by the gentleman that ran the local brothel in Kurtson.

            Adam dropped a sack of one hundred gold pieces on the table in front of the men. He was furious he had been forced to hire another to retrieve his book from that bloody thief. The first man had double-crossed him, and he had come so highly recommended. A man that never failed. He should not have taken as long as he was. He had either joined with her or realized what she had and had taken the book for himself.

            Either way, Adam now found himself forced to send out a second attempt to retrieve his property. The two assassins opened the bag and inspected the fee. Finding it acceptable, Adam took it back. “I’ll pay you when you return with proof that they are dead,” he said.

            “Who is the target?”

            “A thief. Female, very pretty, blonde with grey eyes; she goes by the name of Jezebel. Also, the first man I sent after her, an assassin by the name of Craven.”

            They both perked up immediately. “Craven?” One asked.

            “Yes. He was hired to do the job but betrayed me. I want them both dead. Will that be a problem?”

            They both grinned sadistically. “Not at all.”

            “Wonderful, also they have a book the girl took from me. I want it back. Bring me proof of their death and the book, and you will be rewarded,” he promised.

            “How do you wish them to die?” 

            Adam drew his brows together with evil satisfaction. “Painfully.”                    

***          

            She felt his warm breath at the nape of her neck. Craven’s hand at her shoulder was slowly moving down her arm as his lips placed soft kisses against the column of her throat. Phoenix’s first instinct was to fight, but his hand closed around her wrist, restraining her as his hard body pressed against her from behind. He lifted her arms above her head and pinned them against the headboard with one large hand, encircling both her small wrists.

            Phoenix opened her mouth to beg him to stop, but no words came out, as his hand moved down over her body and began to remove her leather armour. His hot kisses burnt a path down her neck and over her shoulder. Before she knew it, he had freed her from the confines of her armour, and his hand had cupped her breast.

            A surge of excitement coursed through her at the forbidden contact. A damp tantalizing tingle began to form between her legs. A sensation she was not accustomed to. She gasped with pleasure when Craven rolled her back against the bed and pushed her top up, exposing her breast to his full view, dipping his head and captured her n****e in his mouth.

            He released her hand, and she found her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, holding him close as his mouth worshiped her. His hand caressed her thigh before moving higher to the junction between her legs, and when she realized his intent to caress her there, she panicked.

            Phoenix shot up in bed. The room was dark. She ran her hands over her body to find herself still fully dressed. Her sudden motion had startled Craven, and he jerked awake, shooting straight up and drawing his gun as a reflex before he was even aware of what was going on. Still half-dazed and sleepy, Craven looked around in the dark and then turned to her. “What is it?” He asked, noticing the flush in her face.

            She had been dreaming, she realized. Craven’s kiss had left her feeling bewildered and disturbingly thrilled, not that she would have admitted it to anyone. She had never had such a desire for a man. Certainly, she never had such vivid indecent dreams about a man that irritated her so much. 

            “I thought I heard someone at the door,” she lied, not willing to confess the real reason for her sudden disturbance.

            Craven slipped from the bed and walked to the door. He unlocked it and turned the handle. She watched as he cracked the door, the light from the hall spilling into the room. He poked his head outside and looked around. Finding nothing strange, he shut the door once more and locked it.

            Craven returned his pistol to its holster and then came back to the bed. He stretched out beside her and gave her his back. “It was probably just someone taking a streetwalker to their room. Ignore it and go back to sleep,” he grumbled as he went back to sleep. Phoenix laid back against the bed and draped her arm over her eyes. Hopefully, this time, he might stay out of her dreams.