Gilded Serpent by Danielle Jensen (top 10 novels txt) 📕

out of focus so that she could see the life of whatever was out there. Then hands closed over her shoulders, drawing her back.

“Don’t listen,” Killian said, his breath warm against her ear. “It’s a trick to lure you out.”

“I know.” She resisted the urge to lean back against him. “But…” She trailed off, her eyes latching on a small glowing form huddled perhaps a dozen paces away.

“Help me,” it whimpered. “I’m scared.”

“There’s a child out there! I can see it!” She tried to pull out of Killian’s grip, but he hauled her back, arm around her waist.

“Gertrude, it’s not a child.” Agrippa had come up next to them.

“Then what is it?” she demanded. “What sort of creature can speak with a child’s voice like that?”

“I suppose being from Mudamora, you wouldn’t know of them.” He exhaled a long breath. “We don’t know what they are, exactly. They’re called mimics because there isn’t a sound or voice they can’t replicate. Whatever they are, they have an uncanny ability to choose just the right thing to set people off. I’ve lost more travelers to their tricks than to the wildmen.”

“Have you seen them?” Killian asked, still holding her tight, his heart throbbing steadily against her back.

“Yeah.” Reaching down, Agrippa picked up a burning stick. “Let’s see if we can get a look at this one.”

He cocked his head, listening to the sound of the child crying, then threw the branch. Lydia held her breath as the flames flew end over end before striking a tree. An enraged shriek cut the air, and for a second, Lydia saw it. White fur and claws and a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth, and then the flames flickered out.

“Gods,” one of the men whispered from behind them. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Nor I,” Agrippa said. “Lern must have been in a foul mood the day he made these beasts, if he can be credited with creating them at all.”

All around her, the travelers made the sign of the Six against their chests, and as she did the same, Lydia was again struck that these people were not at all what she’d expected.

Killian drew her backward toward the cook fire, and Lydia felt a stab of disappointment when he let go of her, her back growing swiftly cold away from the press of his chest. The family had followed Agrippa’s advice and wrapped fabric over the ears of the children to muffle the mimics’ voices, the four of them already readying to fall asleep inside the makeshift tent. The other travelers were wrapping themselves in blankets and joining them, the space tight enough to be unappealing.

Going to her pack, Lydia unfastened her bedroll, grimacing at the dampness of everything. It was going to be a cold night.

“I’ll take first watch,” Agrippa said to Killian. “Then Baird, then you. Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be far worse.”

The giant was already snoring loudly next to the fire, clearly unconcerned by the mimic, which had returned to the trees around camp, whispering and crying in a child’s voice, although it was easier to ignore it now that she’d seen it.

Killian was unrolling his own blankets next to the fire. He looked up right as she looked at him, and her face warmed as she considered just exactly how to manage the sleeping arrangements given the story they’d told Agrippa.

As if hearing her thoughts, the Cel legionnaire said, “Don’t hold back on my account. I’ve seen it all at this point.”

Killian scowled at him, but Agrippa only laughed and pulled a blanket over his shoulders, eyes roving the trees beyond the fires.

Biting her lip, Lydia laid out her bedroll between Killian’s and the fire, rolling up her cloak to serve as her pillow. Lying on her side, she pulled her blanket up to her chin and watched the snowflakes fall into the flames, acutely aware of Killian moving behind her. Of him rolling up his own cloak, then lying down. Close, but not touching her.

Then the loud screech of a deimos split the night.

Lydia jerked upright, turning to see Killian already had his sword in hand, his eyes skyward.

“Mimic,” Agrippa murmured. “Too cold for the deimos.”

Lying back down, Lydia curled in on herself, trying to calm the racing of her heart. But it was impossible to relax with the mimic imitating the deimos’s screams, the pounding of wings. Not with open sky over her. A cold wind blew down the slope, piercing through her blanket, and she shivered, clenching her teeth.

Then Killian’s arm slipped around her waist. His hand pressed against her abdomen, he pulled her back against him.

Instantly her body went as stiff as a board, fear fleeing as her mind fixated on each place they were touching. Her shoulder blades against the hard muscle of his chest. Her bottom against the flat planes of his stomach. The heels of her boots against his shins.

She could feel the heat of his breath against her hair, and instinct caused her to lift her head so his other arm could slide beneath her neck. It was not lost on her that this was the position she’d dreamed of finding herself in night after night when she’d slept alone in her room in the temple. Fantasies of being wrapped in his arms, except it had never stopped at just that. And part of her was afraid to relax lest her body betray her with desire for what she couldn’t have.

“Try to sleep.” His voice was low, something in the tone of it causing heat to flood into her belly and her chest to ache. “I’ll watch your back.” His fingers interlocked with hers. “So will the Six.”

And though the thought of sleeping seemed impossible with the mimics screaming and her nerves thrumming, eventually, exhaustion took hold of her and she slipped into darkness.

“You were the last person I expected this from.”

A cool, polished voice filled her ears, and Lydia’s heart leapt into a gallop, her skin turning to