A Simple Love Story, Part Three: Victim of Love
Carus stiffened for a moment but turned the movement into a lazy stretch as he pushed himself up from the bed. He didn’t flush in embarrassment as he stood bare-assed in the middle of his room and smiled amicably at the intruder with his wings folded neatly against his lower back.
Inside, however, he was raging at the very gall of the man to enter his gods-be-damned room.
“Well hello, Dabbs,” he said casually. He stretched, wings extending to their full-length, then relaxed and gave the man a smile. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Grieven Dabbs had a snake’s smile and he gave it to Carus as he intoned carefully, “There are those that think your…indiscretions…with this girl should be ceased. They think you’ve…”
“Lost my touch?” queried Carus. He chuckled darkly at that and sat on the edge of the bed, legs splayed out with his hands behind him to prop him up. Carefully he touched Kara’s wrist, felt the quick pace of her pulse, and tapped his fingers in the old thieves signal for ‘quiet’. Her fingers curled against his in acknowledgement and she shifted, making a contented little noise that made him want to gut Dabbs so he could get back into the damn bed.
So what if he was in love with her? She’d stalked the streets with him for over a decade now and she knew every trick he did plus a few others. Any man (or woman) that thought her an easy catch or kill was quickly proven wrong; she hid her skills ever damnably well. Always playing the still innocent girl - woman, he amended mentally - just following her personal hero.
There weren’t many that paid enough attention to her or looked her in the eyes to see the sparks of cunning that twinkled in the dark. Sparks he’d personally stoked and turned from a dull needle into a damn fine sword.
She wasn’t just some girl anymore. Kara was a woman - his woman, in fact - and he was damn proud of her.
“Yes,” confirmed Dabbs. His eyes, dark and beady like a rats, flickered across the smooth expanse of Kara’s bare shoulder and Carus marked him up from just Someone To Kill to Someone To Kill Soon on his mental list.
“And what would make them think I’ve lost my touch?” asked Carus. He picked dirt out from under his fingernails idly, continuing, “I’ve been here from the beginning - before we started calling ourselves a Guild six years ago. Never been caught. Barely even been seen. Hell, there’ve been times when what I pulled in kept everyone in this damn place fed. So how, dear Dabbsy, have I lost my touch?”
The nickname made Dabbs’ pale countenance flush red across the cheeks. “Her,” he growled out. Carus allowed himself a mental smirk at that - Dabbs was just three years younger than him but he still hadn’t learned anything since he’d joined up with their little group. He still let the littlest things get to him and let it show. When things got to Carus, he made it look like they rolled off of him like water and smiled. And marked a notch on his mental tally for the person.
“Her, huh? Well…that reminds me, Dabbsy, I think my girl here got you out of an arrest a time or two.”
The flush darkened to crimson at that. It amused Carus to know that when Dabbs got really angry, the tip of his upturned nose turned red.
“Damn girl could’ve left well enough alone. I’d have killed that copper…”
“Ah, but we all know how much murder is really looked down upon. If you’re in a real bind, sure, but guards are off limits.”
Dabbs scowled and spat, “Look, Carus, just get rid of the damn girl. Elsewise someone might have to get rid of her for you.”
“That’s a very clear threat there, Dabbsy. You sure you want to make it?”
“Yeah. Not like you’re gonna…mmrggh!”
Dabbs stood, staring open-mouthed at nothing for a moment, then tumbled backwards. Carus tilted his head, regarding the angle and depth on the knife in his head with a smile.
“That was a fine throw.”
“Thank you,” said Kara as she shifted over to curl herself around his back. She smiled and pressed a kiss against his hip that made him growl in anger. “What?”
“I have to get rid of the body,” he snarled.
“Mmm, so?”
“And go explain to Ventin just why the idiot’s dead. Oh, I have to go threaten to be very murderous to anyone that thinks I’ve gone soft.”
Kara chuckled and said, “But you love threatening to be murderous!”
“Yes, but right now I’m rather distracted by the astoundingly delectable nymph laying my bed. Damn him!”
“I think its more ‘Damn me’ for killing him.”
Carus smirked at that and ran his hand through her auburn hair. “Oh, no,” he disagreed, “that was beautiful. Plus I was going to kill him anyway. Honestly, he called you ‘girl’!”
“You call me girl,” she pointed out.
“Yes,” he agreed, “but I do it to annoy you.”
“You’re lucky I love you, Carus.”
“I know,” murmured Carus as he leaned over to kiss her. Then he dragged himself away from the bed with a groan and started pulling on his clothes. As he tugged on his boots and secured them, Kara asked, “Why did he call you a ‘victim’ of love?”
He frowned and replied, “That’s what we’ve always called it when a thief falls in love. He becomes the victim in a very large crime that he’s probably going to fall for - and that usually gets him killed.
“And what if the woman’s a thief herself?”
He grinned at that and turned to steal another kiss as he fastened his tunic over his bare chest. “Well then she has gone and stolen his very soul,” he said in a joking tone, “and he’ll never be a good thief again.”
“Pff, superstition.”
“Superstition makes the world run, girl. Now you just lay there looking lovely until I get back to hear you scream again.”
Kara chuckled at that and arched her back, sheets clinging to the lines of her body - purely for his benefit. Carus leered appropriately then grunted and lifted Grieven Dabbs body up onto his shoulder, knife still embedded deep in the socket of his left eye. As he trudged out the door with his burden and pondered just where to dump it, he snorted.
“ ‘Victim of love,’ ” he said as he stomped down creaking steps. “HA!”
Inside, however, he was raging at the very gall of the man to enter his gods-be-damned room.
“Well hello, Dabbs,” he said casually. He stretched, wings extending to their full-length, then relaxed and gave the man a smile. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Grieven Dabbs had a snake’s smile and he gave it to Carus as he intoned carefully, “There are those that think your…indiscretions…with this girl should be ceased. They think you’ve…”
“Lost my touch?” queried Carus. He chuckled darkly at that and sat on the edge of the bed, legs splayed out with his hands behind him to prop him up. Carefully he touched Kara’s wrist, felt the quick pace of her pulse, and tapped his fingers in the old thieves signal for ‘quiet’. Her fingers curled against his in acknowledgement and she shifted, making a contented little noise that made him want to gut Dabbs so he could get back into the damn bed.
So what if he was in love with her? She’d stalked the streets with him for over a decade now and she knew every trick he did plus a few others. Any man (or woman) that thought her an easy catch or kill was quickly proven wrong; she hid her skills ever damnably well. Always playing the still innocent girl - woman, he amended mentally - just following her personal hero.
There weren’t many that paid enough attention to her or looked her in the eyes to see the sparks of cunning that twinkled in the dark. Sparks he’d personally stoked and turned from a dull needle into a damn fine sword.
She wasn’t just some girl anymore. Kara was a woman - his woman, in fact - and he was damn proud of her.
“Yes,” confirmed Dabbs. His eyes, dark and beady like a rats, flickered across the smooth expanse of Kara’s bare shoulder and Carus marked him up from just Someone To Kill to Someone To Kill Soon on his mental list.
“And what would make them think I’ve lost my touch?” asked Carus. He picked dirt out from under his fingernails idly, continuing, “I’ve been here from the beginning - before we started calling ourselves a Guild six years ago. Never been caught. Barely even been seen. Hell, there’ve been times when what I pulled in kept everyone in this damn place fed. So how, dear Dabbsy, have I lost my touch?”
The nickname made Dabbs’ pale countenance flush red across the cheeks. “Her,” he growled out. Carus allowed himself a mental smirk at that - Dabbs was just three years younger than him but he still hadn’t learned anything since he’d joined up with their little group. He still let the littlest things get to him and let it show. When things got to Carus, he made it look like they rolled off of him like water and smiled. And marked a notch on his mental tally for the person.
“Her, huh? Well…that reminds me, Dabbsy, I think my girl here got you out of an arrest a time or two.”
The flush darkened to crimson at that. It amused Carus to know that when Dabbs got really angry, the tip of his upturned nose turned red.
“Damn girl could’ve left well enough alone. I’d have killed that copper…”
“Ah, but we all know how much murder is really looked down upon. If you’re in a real bind, sure, but guards are off limits.”
Dabbs scowled and spat, “Look, Carus, just get rid of the damn girl. Elsewise someone might have to get rid of her for you.”
“That’s a very clear threat there, Dabbsy. You sure you want to make it?”
“Yeah. Not like you’re gonna…mmrggh!”
Dabbs stood, staring open-mouthed at nothing for a moment, then tumbled backwards. Carus tilted his head, regarding the angle and depth on the knife in his head with a smile.
“That was a fine throw.”
“Thank you,” said Kara as she shifted over to curl herself around his back. She smiled and pressed a kiss against his hip that made him growl in anger. “What?”
“I have to get rid of the body,” he snarled.
“Mmm, so?”
“And go explain to Ventin just why the idiot’s dead. Oh, I have to go threaten to be very murderous to anyone that thinks I’ve gone soft.”
Kara chuckled and said, “But you love threatening to be murderous!”
“Yes, but right now I’m rather distracted by the astoundingly delectable nymph laying my bed. Damn him!”
“I think its more ‘Damn me’ for killing him.”
Carus smirked at that and ran his hand through her auburn hair. “Oh, no,” he disagreed, “that was beautiful. Plus I was going to kill him anyway. Honestly, he called you ‘girl’!”
“You call me girl,” she pointed out.
“Yes,” he agreed, “but I do it to annoy you.”
“You’re lucky I love you, Carus.”
“I know,” murmured Carus as he leaned over to kiss her. Then he dragged himself away from the bed with a groan and started pulling on his clothes. As he tugged on his boots and secured them, Kara asked, “Why did he call you a ‘victim’ of love?”
He frowned and replied, “That’s what we’ve always called it when a thief falls in love. He becomes the victim in a very large crime that he’s probably going to fall for - and that usually gets him killed.
“And what if the woman’s a thief herself?”
He grinned at that and turned to steal another kiss as he fastened his tunic over his bare chest. “Well then she has gone and stolen his very soul,” he said in a joking tone, “and he’ll never be a good thief again.”
“Pff, superstition.”
“Superstition makes the world run, girl. Now you just lay there looking lovely until I get back to hear you scream again.”
Kara chuckled at that and arched her back, sheets clinging to the lines of her body - purely for his benefit. Carus leered appropriately then grunted and lifted Grieven Dabbs body up onto his shoulder, knife still embedded deep in the socket of his left eye. As he trudged out the door with his burden and pondered just where to dump it, he snorted.
“ ‘Victim of love,’ ” he said as he stomped down creaking steps. “HA!”