Page 153 of Sword & Shadow
Rafferty raised his white-blond eyebrows, a wily lift to his lips. “You and Eve...”
Deckard turned away to stare at the branch in his hand, chipping bits away.
Rafferty wasn’t dissuaded. “You two never . . . ?”
The innuendo wasn’t lost on Deckard.
In typical circumstances, Deckard would have told the man to mind his own business. Discussing the condition of his and Evylin’s marriage wasn’t a topic he cared to broach with anyone but those he trusted most. Namely, Hewitt. Examining the state of his and Evylin’s intimate relationship was even less welcome.
However, Deckard recognized the opportunity for what it was.
Slowly, Deckard raised his eyes from the branch and met Rafferty’s expectant, silvery gaze. The moment was exactly what he’d been hoping for when he suggested they hunt together. He could use the man’s curiosity, indecorous as it might be, to his advantage.
“I’ll tell you what,” Deckard said, keeping his voice steady to belie the anticipation within him. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Rafferty asked, a gleam in those cunning eyes.
Deckard gave him a firm nod. “There’s something I need to do that involves magic Auden wouldn’t approve of. In exchange for your blind eye and silence, I will answer one question.”
A wicked grin lifted the corner of Rafferty’s mouth. “Our colonel has some Night business to attend to, eh?”
“Is that your question?”
Rafferty raised a finger. “One question seems stingy, by my reckoning. Highlord Calder said Night magic could be dangerous to you and the rest of us. Said it could lead to madness. No, no. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to such potentially perilous behavior... Not for anything less than five questions, withhonestanswers.”
Deckard anticipated the bartering. “Two questions.”
“Make it three,” Rafferty held out a hand, “and you’ve got a deal.”
Deckard accepted the handshake. “Deal.”
Rafferty’s smirk was downright malicious. “You and Evie never had sex?”
“Really?” Deckard replied, unsurprised. “That’s the best question you can think to ask?”
“Consider me fascinated.”
“I’ll consider you debauched.”
Rafferty shrugged.
Deckard scoffed. “No, we haven’t.”
“Holy hell!” Rafferty’s face screwed up in disbelief. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t answer—that’s not one of my questions. Why not? That’s not a real question either. Allore’s might, man! I’ve seen how she is with you, all flirtations and cuddles. How have you not lost your damn mind sleeping next to her? Don’t answer that either.”
“Do you have a real question for me?” Deckard asked, irritated.
Rafferty tapped a finger to his nose, considering. “Not yet. I need some time to think on it.”
Deckard pushed himself up. “Enjoy your thinking. I’ll meet you back here in half an hour. Don’t follow me.”
Sly grin back in place, Rafferty waved him off. “Don’t worry, Colonel. I won’t risk losing my questions. Because, believe me, I’m not holding back for want of them.”
Deckard had no doubt.
Leaving the weasel to ponder whatever hierarchy of inquiries he might have, Deckard moved deeper into the trees. Part of him worried about his sanity, entertaining Rafferty’s curiosities this way. Though his time as a soldier had exposed him to indecent and often explicit conversations of his comrades’ intimate relations, he’d retained his sensibilities. Such affairs should be between a man and his wife, he believed.
Granted, in this situation, such affairs were nonexistent between Deckard and his wife. So perhaps the point was moot.
