Excerpt: The Living King

Eventually, after far too long, he groaned and twitched against her. “That’s it,” she said, rubbing at his arms. “Come on. Wake up.”
“Fucking… fuck,” he said, and coughed.
“Eloquent,” she said, but had to smile helplessly; even in the short time she’d known him, she had come to appreciate his constant use of profanity.
“Fuck… you…” he wheezed. “My fucking head feels like somebody shat on it.”
“Seriously, Severin, you’re charming.”
He hawked and spat, then doubled over again clutching at his ribs. She rubbed his back, worried. “Are you all right?”
“Bastards zapped me. It’ll pass.” He waved one hand negligently. “You?”
“Um… Choking,” she said, trying to match his matter-of-fact tone.
“Any idea where we are?”
“None,” she said. “Well. Underground.”
“That much I could tell by the smell. Help me up.”
She pushed herself to her feet, leaning against the wall, then offered him an arm to haul himself up as well. He patted his hands over himself. “Damn, damn, damn.”
“They searched you?”
“Got all the guns,” he said. “Fuck.” He rested one hand on the wall and bent over, fumbling off his boot.
“Severin?”
“Hush up, I’m checking something.” He had the boot off now, turned upside down in his hands; he ran a careful thumbnail along the sole at the hell, and it lifted up slightly in his hands. “Yes! They never think to check in my boots.”
“How many times has this happened to you?” Kora wondered, but he was fumbling the boot back on, holding a small slip of metal in one hand. “Is that a weapon?”
“No,” he said. “But it’s a start. Lockpick.”
Kora managed to refrain from throwing her arms around him, but it was a close thing.
“First we get out,” Severin said. “Then we get out of the building, getting our guns if we can. Then we go somewhere safe. And then I am going to yell at you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kora said, shakily. “Getting out first.”