This was easy, or at least it should be. That's what the bastard assured him. But even Quinlan knew better than to trust in the word of a two-bit fool. Nothing was ever easy, not for him. If life just started handing him lemons, expecting him to make lemonade, well, then life would get two black-eyes and a split-lip!
Quinlan Duirne scanned was already in the tavern, the Bloated Bosom, in the small ramshackle village of Pumpernickel, taking its namesake from the bread. It was a squat little settlement settled deep along the main road in the Draconi forest. Just when he thought he'd never find his way back to Adela, there he was again.
He sighed, taking a deep drink from his ale and looking down at the description in a small page given to him by his employer, who so conveniently remained unnamed. Typical.
He took another drink.
There was no guarantee his mark would show up at a place like this. In fact, he wasn't even on 'active duty' yet. He figured he could take a few days to become acquainted with the area, and see what was what. But for now, he drank.
Quinlan gave a sigh of satisfaction, and put his feet up on the table nearest him, spilling the drink on the person sitting there. He just looked across and gave a derisive sniff.
Ah, The Bloated Bosom! Usually, these taverns didn't sell what they advertised, but the lovely red-headed wench in Wakiza's lap certainly had bloated bosoms! Bosoms he would just love to get his face between. Alas, she was working, she said. Wait until she's done with her shift, she said. But the tavern wasn't all that crowded, compared to the big city taverns he was used to frequenting, and she certainly wasn't working now.
Hm. He supposed that was untrue. She was working her mouth, and she had quite the skilled tongue, this little Ginger!
Ginger broke their kiss breathlessly and stared up at him, smiling. "So ya promise, then? I can really come with ya?"
"Oh, of course, doll," Wakiza said, tucking a strand of hair behind her dainty ear. "There's plenty of room in my caravan. And if there wasn't, why, I'd make room. A beautiful little spitfire like you? You're worth more than ten of my men."
Ginger snorted and slapped his chest. "Yer full of it!"
"Mm, okay. Maybe five men."
Ginger glowered, and Wakiza laughed and kissed her lips. "I'm teasing you, dollface. Come morning, we'll ride for my estates in Essyrn and you'll want for nothing ever again, I swear it. You'll wear all the finest robes and sweetest perfumes, and you won't have a finger or toe that isn't decked in jewels. Gods, but I can't wait to see that on you."
"Jewels?" Ginger asked, head tilted.
"That, too. But I was thinking of the robes. Have you ever seen what the Essyrni wear?"
When she shook her head, Wakiza grinned and continued, his hand lightly stroking her neck. "They're sheer. Only the richest can afford the transparent ones, so soft they're like wearing nothing at all. They leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. But it's just enough to make you desire her, letting you see what you could have, if only there wasn't that thin barrier between you and her flesh..." He kissed her neck, and Ginger shivered and blushed.
"How scandalous!"
"Mhm."
"Wait," Ginger said suddenly, and Wakiza lifted his head and arched an eyebrow. "What if there's bandits along the way?"
And Wakiza's grin only grew, and he cupped her chin and drew her face close to his. "I don't think you have to worry about that, beautiful," he said, and kissed her hard.
Which was also the moment when some idiot knocked over his drink!
It spilled all over the table and Ginger let out a yelp when it sloshed into her lap and down Wakiza's leg, and the girl flung herself to her feet, gasping, while Wakiza looked up and glared daggers at the only man that could be responsible.
Because he was the only one sitting right there, and also he had the audacity to give him a derisive look!
"What the fuck, man!"
Admittedly, the spill had been an accident. But Quinlan could well play like it wasn't. And when the drink's owner started barking at him, Quinlan noticed a few things familiar about him. Wasn't he supposed to be looking for a man of that similar description. He couldn't be sure just yet. Quinlan just sipped his drink and looked over Wakiza with a shrug.
"You should pay more attention to your beer than your bosoms. Besides I'm sure the lovely lady would prefer a real man to you. They don't have to make empty promises," Quinlan said snidely with went back to his drink. The beer was just starting to taste better.
"What?" Wakiza said, looking offended at the notion. He wrapped his arm around Ginger's waist to draw her closer as she tried to escape, all cold and wet and sticky now from the beer. "Pay more attention to my beer than to this beauty here? How absurd. How dare you insult such a--"
"Eli," Ginger cut in, her eyes on the new man. She squirmed a little, prying at Wakiza's arm. "Eli, what's he mean, empty promises?"
"Nothing, baby. Don't you worry your pretty little head. He's just mistaken his ass cheeks for lips. Listen, friend, if you want to talk out your ass, do it elsewhere. Don't stink up my table," Wakiza said, eyes narrowing. Stupid man better now have fucked this up! He was so close! So close to those wonderful tits!
Quinlan looked over to the buxom beauty and eyed her breasts too for a few long seconds before washing down his thirst with a sip of beer. He laughed a little and winked to the young woman. "Allow me to clarify, darling. Empty promises such as his lovely estate in Essyrn, which I'm sure he's used to entice you with. Lovely walks through the sands! Sweaty rides on a kaadir! Look, do you really want to spend the rest of your prime in the middle of the damn desert, sweating buckets and passing out on a daily basis from heatstroke? The guy's got bum written all over him. Just look at how the barflies swarm around him. There's stink all right. But it ain't me. Nor you, darling. Just for the record."
Awwwww shiiiiiiiit.
And right before his eyes, Wakiza could see all his dreams of creamy, pillowy tits and more going up in flames, shriveled up like his cock after being so effectively blocked! Ginger stared at the stranger, her eyes going wide with realization and indignation, and she covered her mouth with a soft gasp.
"He did mention taking a ride on his kaadir..." she said, and suddenly her cheeks flushed red. She smacked Wakiza over the ear, so fast not even he expected it, and he let out a yelp and cupped the side of his head. "There's no such thing as a kaadir, is there?! That was something dirty, wasn't it?!"
"W-what? No, wait! No, baby, seriously, it's a giant fucking lizard--OW!"
Another hard smack over his other ear. "A 'giant lizard'! I'm sure!"
And then, with an indignant huff, Ginger turned on her heel and marched away, bouncing delightfully in all the right places, and Wakiza watched her go in stunned silence for a moment before he turned and fixed the stranger with a death glare.
"What. The. FUCK. Did you seriously just--I oughta wring your fucking neck!"
But all Quinlan could do was snort, chortling into his beer as he took another drink. The girl was lovely indeed and even his eyes moved to the motion of her ass as she walked away. Maybe he could buy her a drink after her shift was owner.
In the meantime he would laugh. So he did and looked at Wakiza after another snort. "As if YOU have a 'giant lizard'. Pfft! Bwahahahhah!"
Wakiza only continued to glower at him, so not amused! He rested his chin on his hand and scowled.
"You know what you just did? You just broke like...one of the most sacred of man-rules. You don't do that, brother. You just don't do that. You see a guy trying to get lucky? You wanna interfere? You interfere to talk them up. You don't sneak in and loosen the bolts on their wagon wheels so it crashes and burns. Did no one teach you these things?"
He took a long gulp of ale. "And if you do butt in to sabotage, it better because you're after the girl, too. I can respect that. I get it. May the best man win and all that. But you, my friend. You just wanted that wagon to burn, didn't you?"
Oh the 'Man Code'.
He knew he was messing with that, but gods be damned if the bloody fool just didn't make it so easy. Quinlan just grinned up at him, glaring with amusement really. "Listen, er...brother," he said. "I know about this legendary guy-code, you're talking about. But frankly it was more entertaining to watch you crash and burn. I did you a favor really! You think she would've stuck around long enough for you to show her your 'lizard'? PPffft!"
He laughed again and sat up. "All those promises? Please! Like any of that shit was believable."
"It wasn't believable," Wakiza said, and took another long sip, finishing off his drink. "But she believed it. Until you. What? Is your own bed so cold that you can't stand the idea of someone else having a little fun? What a bitter way to live."
At that Quinlan laughed again and nearly fell out of his chair. "Well, this isn't a competition, brother son buddy. No need to get touchy," he said. He shook his head and sipped his beer. "Listen, man, from one guy to another, let me tell ya, you could probably shoot higher than some bar wench that's been had by at least half the patrons in the bar. For all you know, you'll be gettin' more than just your bopper bopped. Like say some kind've crotch itch or bumps where they shouldn't be for the next six bumps."
He laughed and gestured to the drink, and then to another wench with a carafe full of beer. "Another over here, darling. Looks like brother son is getting a little bit dry." The woman nodded and refilled their beer and he offered her a copper and wink.
Quinlan moved his chair over to sit beside Wakiza and made himself comfortable. "You've got to aim higher, brother son. You've got to be like a bloodhound. Scent out the money, follow your nose. Don't just lead with your dick."
Wakiza's eyebrow twitched at the mockery, for though he might laugh at it another time, he was still feeling rather surly about getting cock-blocked. It had been a long day! The release would have been nice! And those tits, GODS. Like big, ripe melons...
He curled his lips in a scowl at the man, but the free beer did take away some of the sting. He took a long swallow of it, and snorted.
"So you're saying you're just looking out for me, is that it?" he asked, and gave a throaty chuckle. He did maybe have a point. Wakiza had made some bad decisions in the past, bad decisions that would no doubt happen again, and had wound up with some odd rashes and painful urination as a result that sent him to the healer, buuut...
He leaned his cheek on his hand and eyed the man. "Or rather, you're saying I should take advantage of some lovely rich lady? Am I getting this correct, bro--man?"
Quinlan wondered just to how many ways he could play this. Should he go subtle? Or just crack right to the chase and knock the bastard out? The last way was faster, and he'd never been one for overbearing subtley. Still, the man was still obviously peeved at missing out on those tits. Couldn't blame him, they were like globes.
"I'm saying, why settle for less? I mean sure she's got great tits, I can't say I blame you. I'd like to squeeze those things until they pop like fresh frothing beer from a barrel. But that's neither here nor there. But it seems you've got my point more or less," he said, grinning. He took a long sip of beer.
"But it ain't the only way to make good money, just a fast an easy way. Show a lovely dame a good time, tell her she's prettier than all the other skanks, and she'll give you a gold ring and maybe a nice hat. On the other hand, you could always just collect." And with that he lifted his mug of beer and slammed it on Wakiza's head.
Welp.
Wakiza couldn't say he saw that one coming.
One minute, he's discussing tits and ass and having a fabulously torrid bromance, the next, there was an explosion of pain, bright lights, and darkness.
He probably should have seen that coming. Wasn't like he wasn't a wanted criminal! But he'd had more than his share of booze here--and it wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten overly confident and comfortable.
With a groan, he crumpled, slumping sideways out of his seat and crashing onto the ground like a rag doll. A rag doll that made a rather impressive THUD when it landed. But Quinlan hadn't knocked him out cleanly; he'd knocked him out, but not cold, and when he landed he stirred after a second or two with a groan and clutched at his head, dazed and disoriented and only aware that his head fucking hurt.
"Motherfucker," he groaned.
"Ugh, I always hate it when I don't get it right the first time. But that can be easily remedied," Quinlan grumbled with an exhausted sigh. He stood over Wakiza, about to finish the task of knocking out his target when he felt a chair collide into his back. Quinlan yelped and was flung forward, landing right on top of Wakiza.
And in the background, someone yelled, "BARFIGHT!" And that was when the glass started flying. Shattering, good beer spilling everywhere, and every able body with a sore spot on somebody else started to burn off that steam, slamming fists into jaws and throwing people on tables.
Quinlan rolled off of Wakiza, the wind knocked out of him, and looked up at the chaos he had wrought. He grinned through a bloodied lip. "Well ain't that a bitch," he said, as another wooden chair came flying their way.
"Oof!" Wakiza grunted as the oaf landed right atop him, driving the air from his lungs with some unfortunately placed elbows. Before he could even fully register what had happened through the fog in his brain, the tavern erupted into chaos, and it made Wakiza's head throb all the more.
Yet as glasses went flying and chairs splintered, as it turned out...
The floor was actually the safest place to be, as it all went sailing overhead.
Fuck. Just his bloody luck, really, that he'd get taken out by a stupid cheap shot with a mug, of all things, and then he'd miss out on all the fun! With another groan, he gave his head a shake to try to clear the fog in his brain, and when he felt Quinlan roll off of him, he grit his teeth. Oh no. No fucking way. No fucking way that prick was getting off that easy! His head may still be swimming, but he was pretty sure he didn't need clear vision to break the guy's nose!
With a growl, he lashed out with a hand and grabbed Quinlan by the arm before he could go too far. "C'mere, you lil' sonuvabitch!" he snarled, yanking him back over to him--just in time, too, because a chair crashed and splintered right where Quinlan's head had been just seconds before.
Though it was far from a lucky break for Quinlan, because at the same time, Wakiza was winding back his arm and swinging a punch right for the guy's face.
Quinlan honestly should have seen that coming. Really even he knew there were consequences when you decided to punch somebody in the face and you didn't get them down first. Wakiza's fist smashed against Quinlan's face and would have sent him feeling backwards were it not for his grip on his arm. Quinlan used it like a slingshot to spring him back forward and bashed Wakiza head to head.
"Hey! There's plenty left for you!" Quinlan laughed triumphantly, perhaps a little too soon! As bottles suddenly came flying their way.
As if Wakiza's head wasn't already splitting with pain! Now it was literally, er...split. Kind of.
Pain exploded in his brow and his vision whited out for a moment as their skulls cracked together, and when his vision cleared, it was soon filled with blood. The blow opened up a shallow cut on his head, but of course head wounds were bleeders, so it looked far more dramatic than it actually was as blood dribbled down his face and splattered onto the front of his shirt--and got all over Quinlan in the process, no doubt. Hard to tell. Wakiza couldn't really see since it was in his eyes, all salty and stinging!
"Oh! I've got more for you, alright!" he roared, and tightened his grip on Quinlan's arm before he grabbed for his throat with his other hand, ready to throttle him--
But a heavy bottle whacked him right between the shoulder blades then, and he toppled on top of Quinlan instead, which would no doubt drive the wind from the smaller guy's lungs.
And Wakiza was so distracted by trying to murder the man (well, maybe not murder--he wanted to find out what the hell that was all about!), and avoid getting whacked over the head by anymore bottles, he didn't notice the small group of armed men that slipped into the tavern during the chaos, and stood back by the far wall, arms crossed as they watched the brawl.
And watched he and Quinlan fight.
"FUCK MAN! WHAT'S YOU'RE SKULL MADE OF? FUCKING ROCKS? JUST GET KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT ALREADY!"
Quinlan was quickly getting frustrated by the fight and considered for a moment just turning on the pain. That'd make Wakiza stop in his tracks for sure! And it'd make dragging the poor stupid bastard out of here all that much easier!
"Just HOLD STILL!" Then he suddenly landed on top of him and he coughed, gasping for breath. "GET YOUR FAT ASS OFF OF ME!" He growled again and rolled over, shoving Wakiza to the floor and pulling a dagger out from the inside of his wrist, but when a table landed on the pair, it knocked the blade from his hand and sent it clatter out, and was soon lost in the chaos of scattering feet.
The table saved Wakiza--but it also pinned him just long enough that he had to work to shove it off of him, which gave Quinlan a precious few seconds of not having his fist in his face! What the fuck was even going on?! Get knocked out already? It took a second or two for his rattled brain to make sense of the words and connect the dots.
If this guy wanted to knock him out--ugh. The answer was pretty obvious. He'd probably seen his goddamned bounty.
Pulling his legs back, he kicked the table off of him, rolled forward--which he regretted when his head swam--and grunted when a chair leg hit his shoulder. But rather than shove it aside, he grabbed it, wielding it like a club.
"Oh, no you DON'T!" he snarled, as he shoved Quinlan down and forced his makeshift club under his chin. "I'm staying good and conscious until I get some fucking answers!" Wow. That came out wrong. He tightened his grip, threatening to choke the guy. "And even AFTER THAT. Who put the fucking hit on me, huh?"
Oh-ho-ho, looks like there was a rattlesnake in the cup cake after all! Quinlan croaked beneath the pressure of the chair leg now being used as a club in an attempt to choke him out. Did Wakiza NOT realize how counter productive it would be to start interrogation just when he put his intended target in a position that made it impossible for him to answer!?
"AS. IF!" Quinlan coughed and held the stick back with one hand and wedged out the small blade on his left wrist with the other, the tip sprung out just enough to cut into his palm and it stuck it into his hand, drawing a few droplets of blood. He snatched his wrist and turned the blood that spread there ice cold, an ache that spread like oil on fire.
And the ice would continue to spread across his flesh. "I ain't telling you shit!" he growled. He wasn't in much of a position to resist. But when another bottle came smashing across the back of Wakiza's head, this time by one of the men that had managed to stay out of the fight so far. And Quinlan felt a wave of relief over him, even as another man dragged him up by his collar.
"Oh, good. Thanks guys. I was afraid this'd have to get messy," Quinlan said, fixing his clothes, only to have another bottle smashed across his own head and everything suddenly went black.
When Wakiza woke, his head a throbbing mess of pain that sent lights dancing in his vision, he was...
Not in the tavern anymore.
It took a few moments for him to register that. The room he was in was dimly lit, and it wasn't a room at all, on closer look. He was inside a tent, stretched out onto his side with his arms bound behind his back and his legs bound at the ankles. A little wriggling confirmed he wasn't bound with rope, but with iron shackles. Smart. Whoever had done it knew thieves were a squirrely bunch. A little more wriggling revealed what he'd already assumed--he'd been thoroughly disarmed, his bracers gone from his wrists and his hunting knife gone from his belt.
He took all this in rather calmly for someone who was realizing they'd been knocked out and captured, because this wasn't the first time he'd been captured. Calmly save for a flicker of outrage when he realized, shiiit. That one auburn-haired dick had been trying to clobber him. Not even outrage at the other guy, but outrage at himself for getting beaten by the dick! But then, as his eyes adjusted and focused more, he saw that he wasn't alone.
Because said auburn-haired dick was laying across from him, likewise trussed up.
Well. That changed matters significantly.
Glancing around to be sure they were alone, he started to wriggle his way toward him, gritting his teeth against the aches in his body. "Hey. Hey. You awake?"
Quinlan had had headaches before. They might have even been called divine. It tended to happen when you had drunken tussles with people you had no intention of ever seeing again for the rest of your natural born life. He just about thought he'd had one when he recalled a stinging pain from the back of his head. No, that couldn't have been from a headboard.
He opened his eyes and saw the other bound man wriggling toward him. "What the fuck!?" he hissed and tried to get up and run away only to wiggle little better than Wakiza. "What! What did you do!?" he growled.
He turned to man and kicked him hard in the legs with both feeth and rolled away on his hands. "The fuck did you do to me, man?! It ain't supposed to've happened like this!"
"Ow, you fucker!" Wakiza snarled, and tried to aim a kick back at the bastard, missing by a foot. "What the hell are you talking about? What did I do? What do you mean what did I--"
And then he barked a laugh at the implications and gave a rather dramatic (if fish-like) flop at that to demonstrate that he, too, was bound tight. "Oh, right! What did I do? Obviously I tied myself up and locked us both away! Also, I hit myself over the fucking head, too. For fun. And to fuck with you. It's all an elaborate ruse, you see."
Despite their situation and clear cause for over dramatics, Quinlan glared at Wakiza's clear mocking of him. The bastard. This was all his fault anyway. Perhaps not by a direct cause, but it was all the same to him! Instead of just getting knocked out like he was supposed to, he had to go and mess this whole job up! What a fucking selfish asshole!
Quinlan sat up and spat in his direction, but not at him. "Fine, fuckface, I get it. Cut the shit," he said with a roll of his eyes. He looked up an around at their surroundings. Fuck his head felt like it'd been split open, and he might've thought just as much if he felt blood on his hair. If it was, it was already dried.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Look, man, if you think I have any idea where we are, you've got it wrong. I'm as clueless as you are."
Wakiza glared death at the man, ready to lay into him some more because he was pissed. He came out to have a good time (and smother his face in some tits) and he was honestly feeling so attacked right now.
Just. One night of fun. That's it. He wasn't even working! Not even trying to con anyone! (Except, well, to con his way under their skirts.) Of course it's the one time he's not doing anything ridiculously illegal or dangerous that he gets thrown into bloody limbo!
But just as he opened his mouth to snap something back at him, what poured from his mouth weren't expletives--it was laughter. Quite abruptly, he burst into laughter, rich, cackling laughter that made his head pound all the more, but once he started, it was difficult to stop, and the fact that he was hurting himself laughing over a stupid thing only made it funnier to him in his half-delirious state.
"Pffffffhahaha! HAH! Eheh. Hehhh. Excuse me! I'm just reveling in the irony right now," he managed to wheeze. "You tried to fuck me over, man! Now you're fuuuucked!"
"Correction, Cleaton," Quinlan replied with a dull, half-bored glare. "You're still fucked. But apparently both of us have pissed off the same person. And you're still worth a shiny brand spankin' coin. Maybe I won't collect, but somebody will have your head. But, hell, get your laughs out while you can. It's really all you can do right now."
"Someone will have my head? Tch, I think not. I plan on blowing this joint."
Wakiza started to work at his wrists, testing the manacles, and then he grit his teeth as he pressed hard on his thumb--and dislocated it with a pop and a grimace. He'd done it before, so it popped out easily, but it was never pleasant. "And I say 'I' and didn't include a 'we' for a reason," he growled.
"Oh, no you don't!" And Quinlan mustered the energy to roll up onto his knees and throw his whole body over Wakiza to hold him down. But even if the blood mage could keep him down for long, it seemed he didn't have to. Two men came into the tent with two leashes each.
"Look at 'em, like dumb drunk worms, thinking they can try to escape. C'mon Weasels. Boss won't wait for long." And with a quick kick, Quinlan was shoved aside and leashed. And the other man did the same to Wakiza, but when he observed his hands, he clicked his tongue. "Trying to do the ol' thumb popping trick eh? Well, we'll need them elbow clamps for you!"
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Wakiza hissed, thrashing against the man, but before he could ask him if he'd lost his mind or elbow him in the nose--
Well, that was when their "hosts" showed up, and the asshole ruined everything! If he hadn't jumped him, he could have been free and...and...well, he could have been free! He hadn't really thought much farther ahead than that, like whether or not their little room was locked and how he'd be getting out of here.
He squirmed uselessly in his captor's grip, and spat at his feet when he suggested the elbow clamps.
Goddammit.
"Thumb popping trick? The fuck? No, my thumb was fine until asshole over there started trying to kill me! C'mon, this is hardly necessary! Unless you're into some weird shit. Are you into weird shit? These leashes are pretty weird. Please don't tell me we're sex slaves. I know I'm pretty, but c'mon."
Quinlan spit at Wakiza. And the leash around his neck was tightened. The man that held him reached down and slashed the bindings at his feet. "Because we need you to walk," he griped. The leash was wrapped around a long stick, to keep the captive under control but at a distance from the controller.
The other thug popped Wakiza's thumb back into place and took the extra rope that had been discarded from Quinlan's feet and bound them around Wakiza's elbows. "Pfft, sex slaves. Please," the other guard rolled his eyes. "You talk too much, anyone ever tell ya that? Oh I'm sure they have, never you mind. Probably why you pissed off some pretty nasty people. Now get out here."
And he took that leash and knotted it tightly around the bandit's neck and ushered him outside as well.
"Son of a bitch!" Wakiza snarled through his teeth when one of the bastards went and fixed his thumb for him, which seemed to hurt more since he didn't expect it. And then he was leashed and hauled to his feet, and his elbows were bound together with rope. Those would be significantly more difficult to slip.
Tugged along by the leash, he shot Quinlan a withering glare. It was his fault he was in this situation. If it weren't for him, he'd be rolling around in the sheets with what's-her-tits right now, but no! Some people just hated nice things.
"I don't know who I could have pissed off," he said, deciding that if they thought he talked a lot, why stop? "I don't even know who you bastards are. Do I look like someone notorious or something? Who do you think I am? Oh damn, your boss is gonna be pretty pissed when he finds out he's captured a pig farmer! I'm kind of secondhand embarrassed here. Apologies in advance. That guy over there, though--"
Wakiza jerked his chin in Quinlan's direction. "Knew he was no good from the start. It's the eyes. I mean look at them! Those are the eyes of a criminal. I can just tell he's seen things."
"Yeah, I had a look at your mother's backside pretty good the night before. Damn what a good fuck," Quinlan quipped back and spat at Wakiza's direction. "That one's for free."
It seemed the men handling them were both pretty irritated at the fact that these two just wouldn't shut the hell up. So fists boxed both of their ears and stuck rags into their mouths to quiet these two idiots. Once they were dragged free of the tent they were held in and presented before a buxom beast of a woman.
She could have easily mistaken her for a man were it not for the flowing golden locks and heavy breasts. She was well-muscled, and had arms that could choke a bear. And it was clear from the scars running across her face that she'd seen her fair share of battle and contests of will.
"Taka," one of the grunts said, shoving Quinlan forward onto his belly. "These the blokes you're looking for."
She raised a brow. "Those are the ones."