Chapter 19 #2
“What did you mean when you said they also captured a female in heat?”
His expression grew grim. He dragged out a chair and sat. “With so many younglings stolen and others dying, the females won’t risk bearing children. But Malcarion made it law—breed, or be taken. If they refuse, they’re forced to rut with his soldiers.”
Her breath snagged. “Oh, that vile bastard—”
The front door blew inward.
Ash leapt up, her heart jamming in her throat. Koal lunged in front of her, shoving her behind his enormous frame.
Race stalked in, his silver hair windblown, crimson eyes blazing. Blood seeped from a gash across his ribs, soaking his shirt. His gaze locked on her then shifted to Koal.
Koal hastily stepped aside and lifted his hands. “Didn’t touch her.”
Race’s growl vibrated the air. “And it’s the only reason you still breathe.”
Ash dashed to him before all hell let loose and clutched his arm. His muscles, like forged steel, twitched beneath her fingers. “You’re bleeding? What happened?”
“I’m fine. The bastard expected me to follow him like some dumb prey.
I am a fucking Guardian, my senses never sleep, damn assholes.
” He patted her arm and crossed to the table.
“I already sensed the other fucker on the rooftop and ripped out his throat. Then hunted down the window-peeping bastard and gutted him. Both are now charred carrion.”
He slammed two crested rings onto the table, the metal still smoking. “Why make it easy to identify the bastards?”
Ash’s attention darted from the rings to the blood drenching his shredded shirt.
“We’ve got maybe a few hours before they realize their scouts are done for.” His voice was pure ice. “We need to leave at first light.”
Despite their precarious situation, her anxiety grew at his horrific wounds—wounds he seemed to ignore completely.
“I’ll get a healer.” Attor started for the door.
“No.” Race waved him off.
“Damn it, Race.” She hurried to his side again. “Let Attor bring the healer.”
His gaze softened a fraction. Then he lifted his shirt, revealing long talon gashes already knitting, the bleeding slowing.
Christ. The man would give her a heart attack.
“We have more pressing matters,” he said, letting the fabric drop. “Both spies wore Flaeron’s crest.”
“How do you know that?” Ash asked, as Attor picked up one of the rings and glared at it.
“While he was puffing himself up at our table in the tavern, I took note of his uniform.”
Koal picked up the other ring, frowning at the insignia. “Flaeron’s personal guards?”
“Aye.” Attor tossed the ring down, his lips curling downward. “I can smell his treachery from here. He’s about to make a move. That’s why he didn’t turn up at the barracks. We must keep our guard up.”
“He’s coming after us,” Ash whispered, the blood draining from her head.
Attor nodded. “He’s not one to let any opportunity to get Malcarion’s notice pass him by, lass.”
Race drew her to him, and she gripped the back of his shirt, trying not to vomit as he turned his attention to the others. “Any news on the guards’ rotation?”
Both males shook their heads. “Skaldr’s still out hunting one down. We will try again tonight.”
“Not what I hoped to hear,” Race grunted. “We leave at dawn regardless. The portal basin isn’t far. We’ll wait there for an opening.”
Ash let out a shaky breath, but dread edged her relief.
Koal strode to the window, opened it a little, and the faint sounds of the vendors setting up for the morning drifted to them. He headed for the front door. “I’ll be back.”
The heavy wooden panel had barely shut when it swung open again.
Skaldr trudged in, looking like he hadn’t slept in ages. A rather large, yellowing bruise spread along his jaw, and his red hair hung limp, streaked with soot. He dragged out a chair and collapsed into it, groaning.
“Are you all right?” Ash asked.
He cut her a dark look, said nothing for a beat, then grunted, “Anything worthwhile to hear?”
Ash narrowed her eyes at him. Fine. I won’t ask about your well-being, then.
“Depends on what you think is worthwhile,” Attor responded.
She pulled her attention back to the problem at hand. “So, Race killed two of Flaeron’s lackeys sent to spy on us. And that scaled peacock of a Talon-Marshal has vanished now?”
“No, he hasn’t,” Skaldr muttered, leaning back in his chair. His gaze shifted to Race’s. “He is at the portal. They want her for her power. They haven’t figured out yet what it is, exactly, or that you are back.”
The words seemed to draw the air tauter.
“He can try.” Race’s expression hardened. “I will kill him before he ever reaches her. Keep my return quiet.”
“Here.” Skaldr shifted, pulled a soot-stained parchment from his trouser pocket, and tossed it on the table next to the rings.
Race unrolled it, his brow furrowing as he read.
Ash stepped to his side, peering at the page, but couldn’t read the strange writing. “What does it say?”
“Three guards cycling six-hour blocks.” He ran a finger down the writing. “That gives us four hours before the next change, but something’s off. Those intervals are too close.”
Skaldr shrugged. “It’s the new norm now. Changing shifts whenever it suits them.”
A scrape at the back door froze them. Footsteps, then Koal appeared, carrying plates and a cloth-wrapped bundle that steamed in the chill. The savory aroma made Ash’s stomach growl.
“Seriously?” Race snapped while Koal set everything down.
“We need to keep up our strength. And I’m sure Ash is hungry. It’s venison.” Koal plated and pushed a pie toward her, then grabbed the seat next to Skaldr. “The baker was already up. Said the guards have been asking about strangers.”
“Us?” Ash stilled, the plate gripped with whitening knuckles.
“Aye. Strangers don’t come here willingly,” Koal added. “Not this close to the portal, and not with the usurper’s lapdogs sniffing about.”
Her appetite diminished, but Ash forced herself to take a bite and chew. She would need all the energy she could get.
Race frowned as he paced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not much we can do but stay low till it’s time to leave.”
“The basin will be watched,” Attor said, flipping the schedule his way and studying it. “We’ll need a diversion.”
“Tea?” Ash blurted, before panic could take root. “Bregga mentioned a kettle?”
Koal started to rise. “I’ll help—”
“No.” Race’s voice could have cut steel. “You bought the damn pies. We need to plan.”
Okay, then. Ash carried her pie and made her way down the passage, slipping into the warmer kitchen, grateful for a moment alone. The place smelled of coal and old wood. A lit oil lamp cast a warm glow over everything.
A scarred table dominated the middle, a bench tucked against it, and cupboards with shelves stacked above lined one wall.
Ash found the kettle easily since it hung on a hook by the stove.
She set her plate down and cranked the dull brass tap. It choked, groaned, sputtered, then gushed water into the kettle. As she waited, she glanced toward the window. Outside, the world lay hushed in the quiet dark, hiding the monsters, and she shivered.
Kettle filled, she set it on the still-smoldering coal stove. Hands on her hips, she glanced around.
Right then. Where was the tea?
Her gaze settled on the shelves, lined with rows of tin canisters, each dulled with age. She brought one down, flipped the lid, and breathed in the sweet, smoky scent of real leaves.
“Oh, Mum would be proud. Proper tea.”
A sharp pang cramped her chest. Her parents must be frantic by now.
Just as well she’d be back on Earth soon.
As she lined the cups, the floorboards creaked behind her, and she spun around to find Race filling the doorway.
“You’re here?” She arched an eyebrow. “I thought you were plotting our escape?”
He pulled off his ruined shirt, revealing the healing lesions and smears of blood on his skin.
“No plotting.” He balled the fabric. “We reach the basin, they create a racket, we bolt.”
“Brilliant plan,” she teased, side-eyeing him while she scooped leaves into five battered mugs.
“Yeah, thought so, too.”
Ash bit back a laugh. Likely took him all of one minute to strategize.
“So, Koal’s busy doing…nothing?” she asked, her tone light.
“Better than staring at you. Next time, I just might kill him.” He swiped at the blood on his abs with the ruined shirt.
“Race.” She sighed. “He’s really nice. Stop growling and stop giving him a hard time because I chose him. He doesn’t know anything about our situation, and besides, I only did so because you gave me no choice.” Ignoring his narrowed-eyed stare, she took the shirt from him. “Here, let me do that.”
“He should stop watching you.”
“He’s only watching because you made it a rule, remember? Nothing must happen to me, or you won’t help them.” She pivoted toward the sink.
“Yeah. So?”
Gah. He refused to give an inch.
She shook her head and dampened a dishcloth under the pump, then turned to find him closer than she expected. Too close. Her chin tipped up of its own accord, caught in the quiet intensity of his stare.
That constant simmer of desire under her skin unfurled, and her body leaned toward him before her mind could connect. God.
Forcing herself to focus, she wiped the blood from his side, revealing the pink scabs forming. His breath hitched, his muscles tensing beneath her hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.”
“Gentle’s not the problem.” He grasped her hips, his mouth skimming along her jaw. “Ten minutes before Attor’s sigil fades. That gives us enough time for this.”
“Only ten?” She was already on tiptoe, looping her arms around his neck, the damp shirt falling to the floor.
His eyes burned with hunger. “Full-on fucking between us will take days, heart-fire—table, wall, the floor, anywhere—before I am satisfied. And even then, it’s not guaranteed.”
“Promises, promises.”
With a low, toe-curling growl, his mouth slanted over hers, his kiss fierce, desperate, tasting of darkness and smoky desire. His arms tightened around her.
Ash moaned, arching into him, her fingers tangled in his hair, an answering heat coiling through her. His mouth grew demanding, his tongue sucking hers, and she responded with the same scorching hunger.
The man was making love to her mouth. He lifted her, and she locked her legs around the base of his spine, his cock a hard branding bar against her core.
Only her desperate need for breath forced her to break the kiss.
“God.” Ash dragged air into her burning lungs. “That was—”
His arms tightened around her. He claimed her mouth again. She rubbed her core against his erection, needing more—
With a harsh breath, he broke the kiss this time, his eyes blazing like garnets in the dim light. “We should…”
“Stop,” she finished reluctantly, pressing her cheek against his. “I know.”
He let her slide down his body.
Hot and trembling, she turned for the hissing kettle, wishing they had a little more time together.
“Ash.” His hand closed around her arm, his serious expression slamming like a door. “Whatever happens at dawn, when I say go, you get the hell through that portal. No arguments—”
“Stop.” She pressed two fingers to his lips. “We both will get through. Or else, I’m dragging Koal along.”
His eyes narrowed. “Dammit, Ash, Flaeron will have his guards everywhere!”
“I know that.” She tipped her chin, knew she didn’t play fair, but she refused, not when it came to him.
He was all that mattered.
“If you think for one minute I’m leaving alone, you are wrong. It’s you and me or Koal and me.”
So there.