Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

the bent foreleg, and threw a leg over Torgny’s wide back. Sitting comfortably astride her beast, Gunhilde reached a hand out for me.

Here goes nothing.

The moment my fingers touched hers, Gunhilde pulled me behind her so that I sat bitch behind her on Torgny’s broad back. Without being asked to do so, I wrapped my arms around my new mentor’s metal middle and let out a steadying breath.

“Ready?” Gunhilde asked, a tint of humor coloring her voice.

Do not let people see your fear. It only gives them a means to defeat you.

My eyes opened with new determination. I was going to rock this shit. Then, I was going to get my mother’s ring back and use it to have a vision so I could save her. In short, I was getting my mother back.

No sooner had I nodded than I was flung backward, only barely keeping my seat because I had a death-grip on my hostess. Torgny’s powerful body lunged into motion, galloping forward. Air raced across my skin, blowing my long hair in our wake like a silver cape. I had a fleeting thought that maybe we appeared like a superhero to the naked eye before the heavy clopping sound of hooves against asphalt suddenly disappeared. The jarring motion traveling from my ass up through my teeth ceased entirely. I gasped in awe as we swiftly left the ground to rise five, ten, twenty feet into the air and higher still.

My eyes snapped shut. I did the same with my lips, hoping to keep from doing to Torgny what I’d done to Stone.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, attesting to the speed of traveling by flying horse, we were descending toward the rundown corner shop I’d visited such a short time before —back when I had no realization the object in my pocket would be priceless to me. I couldn’t wait to relieve myself of the money bulging my pockets if it meant getting the ring back.

A few clopping steps slowed our momentum once back on the ground, and Torgny halted at the rear of the pawnshop, waiting for his passengers to disembark before swiftly reverting to broody man status.

Since I was no longer in physical contact with the pair, they assured me I was visible, and I trucked around the building to enter at the barred front door.

The overhead bell dinged loudly to announce my return, but I decided to make a little noise myself as well. I didn’t care that someone else was in there, attempting to hock an item not nearly as shiny as what I wanted to get back. As far as I was concerned, I was the only one in here who needed addressing.

“So, it turns out I don’t need the money, so I’ll take my ring back,” I cajoled toward the weasely shop owner. “I’ll give you... three grand for it.” Pulling out the wads I’d divided between several pockets, I laid the bills on the glass case the greasy attendant stood behind.

“Excuse me, lady. I need to get paid first,” the affronted customer barked. Irritated at my intrusion, both men attempted to intimidate me with glaring looks and clenched jaws.

If they only knew just how little I care about their thoughts and feelings…

“By all means, please settle on a minuscule amount for some—” I peeked around the burly, bikeresque customer to the black handgun sitting on the case between them. “—unregistered weapon most likely used in the commitment of a crime first.” I may have taken the act a little far with an exaggerated shrug but a snigger from behind indicated that Torgny — who had apparently followed, silent and unseen — was amused, so I considered it a win.

After gathering up my wads of money, I leaned an elbow on the glass case, about a foot from the transaction, and proceeded to wait my turn. Gunhilde and Torgny contented themselves with inspecting the random items littering the shelves and cases. With hushed tones and many a furtive glance, the transaction was completed, and the customer left the shop sans implicatory evidence.

“Now, what’s this about buying a ring?” the attendant drawled, drumming his fingers lazily atop the display case I’d used to prop myself up.

“Cut the shit. I’ve decided I don’t need the money, so I’ll just give you this…” I pulled the cash out of my pockets again, slapping the wads on the case, again. “And take back the ring.”

A smarmy grin unfurled across the greaseball’s craggy face. “Oh, okay. That’s easy enough. Ten grand, and it’s yours.”

“No… three, and it’s mine,” I growled through clenched teeth. Both hands pressed so hard against the glass top to keep from punching the asshat that heat fogged up the surface beneath my palms.

“No… you sold the ring. You no longer have any rights to the object. It’s mine now, and I decide how much I’m willing to part with it for. So, ten thousand dollars, and this exquisite, one-of-a-kind, platinum-and-diamond beauty can be yours.”

“Listen here, ratface—” I snarled, lunging for a grip on some piece of the slimeball.

A loud crash drew our attention toward the back of the space. Another shrill clatter greeted our ears as I watched Torgny grab some gaudy-looking vase littered with large floofy flowers and thrust it violently to the floor. Shards skittered to reach my booted feet several yards away.

“What was that? What did you do?” the shopkeeper accused with narrowed eyes aimed at me. His formerly shrewd gaze now appeared disconcerted.

You have to be quick on your feet. Work with what you are handed.

That was a Sekeism I could work with.

I’d forgotten until that moment that my compatriots were cloaked from human sight and that the clerk thought I’d returned alone. “I’ve been right here. You think I have some kind of superpower or something?” Scoffing loudly, I stared at him.

He flinched behind the counter when the case to the left shattered, raining shards of razor-sharp glass in a halo around the stand.

“Seems like