by Sela Carsen
The song ended, and Rodion stood, chest heaving. He clapped a hand over his bad shoulder and Carina went to him with a bottle of cold water that Cole had brought out.
He guzzled it down, and his breathing returned to normal. “So, we’re a good team, yes?”
His accent was back, thicker than usual, and it sent a thrill through her, warming up the parts of her body that responded to strong, capable warriors. It seemed he was finally learning that she didn’t need a man to stand in front of her, but beside her. That was incredibly sexy.
“Like I said,” she answered. “Our crazies match.”
Chapter Nine
They stood outside the door, side by side. Rodion, armed with the shashka handed down from his grandfather, the blade gleaming with its own light. Carina, with loops of glittering rope in her hand. She had braided her hair as efficiently as she’d braided the rope, and the streaks of blue, purple and pink shot color through the bright blonde.
They were the only spots of light in the grim mid-day darkness that awaited them. Trees swayed violently, and above the rush of gusting wind, he could hear branches cracking and breaking.
“It’s a little breezy out!” She had to yell the words at him, just to be heard over the storm. Her short sleeves flapping like tiny wings, exposing the black swirls on her arm.
He shrugged and shouted back at her. “I may be Russian, but I’ve spent a long time in Texas. This is nothing more than a little spring breeze!”
Apparently, the vikhor was offended by that, and the wind pushed him back a half step. Carina put a hand up to her eyes, but bent at the knees and leaned into it. She smiled grimly at him.
Together, they walked into the open. She got up on her toes and spoke into his ear. “What exactly am I looking for?”
“A sort of solid-feeling center. Most of this is just noise and flailing around, but it’s coming from somewhere. You’ll feel it when you get there.”
She nodded and he reached down to squeeze her hand, thanking all the gods for the gift of being able to use his fingers again, especially to touch this woman.
But it was time to work now, so he let go of her hand, and they stepped away from each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her shake out a loop and begin a rhythmic swing.
He did the same thing with his sword. Daria’s song – an old soldier’s ballad of bravery and savage ferocity – played in his head as he began an easy twirl, hand over hand, side to side. The unsharpened portion of the blade near the hilt, called the ricasso, rolled over his hand smoothly as he became one with the deadly movement. The rest of the saber was razor sharp, and the blade bayed like a hunting dog as he picked up speed. The repetitive sway cleared his mind of everything but his prey.
Around and around they walked, into the wind, buffeted by its force. The wind reached out and whipped at them, flaying their exposed skin with dust and sand, sucking the breath away from them to make them gasp, then pushing too much at them until breathing was like drinking from a fire hose.
Nazar wanted him dead, but Rodion wasn’t going to let the old sorcerer take Carina with him. They had to find the door.
He pushed into a strong gust and suddenly felt the wind falter – just the slightest bit – when he walked into something solid. He’d found it. The heart of the whirlwind.
As soon as he touched it, the shards in his arm began to burn like fire. His fingers stiffened in pain and he nearly dropped his sword. He didn’t mean to shout out loud, but Carina heard him.
“Rodion! Are you all right?”
He looked over and fury rolled through him. Blood smeared her lip and chin and the back of her hand where she’d tried to wipe it away.
“What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing,” she yelled out, trying to be heard over the wind. “A pebble hit me. Are you all right?”
He nodded back, lying to her. His right arm was useless again, the pain numbing his arm and hand as if they’d been dipped in lava, leaving behind nothing but cold fire.
He sneered at the wind, tightened his left-handed grip on the blade and stood firm.
“Is that the best you can do?” he yelled into the vikhor. It pushed harder and he shoved back, determined to stay on his feet. Carina leaned forward, trying to keep her balance.
“Is this it?” she asked, her voice loud and hoarse.
He nodded. “Come up on my right and let’s give it a whirl.”
She grinned at his pun and swiped at the blood on her face again. “Anyone ever tell you that your sense of humor is a little loopy?”
Roping puns. He’d happily listen to her terrible jokes for the rest of his life. If they lived through this. Which reminded him…
“When this is over, I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Then I guess we’d better get the job done,” she called back. She winked one green eye, then shook out another loop on her rope, enlarging the center. The magic worked into the rope kept it steady, even in the face of the raging wind, so he left her to her business while he faced the center of the storm.
“You hide in the vikhor, Nazar. Come out and face me. At least Burian had enough courage for that.”
“And it got the stupid boy killed!” the wind roared back.
He kept talking, taunting the storm, and keeping his senses trained on the center of energy that he’d found. All the while he watched Carina fight the gale as she moved around the vikhor, her rope twirling at her side.
Quick as a striking snake, the loop widened and swung out into the whirling center of the storm. There was every chance she was going to miss. She was trying to rope the wind, after all, and no matter who her great-great uncle had been, it was still the stuff of tall tales. Nonetheless, he held his breath for a moment, watching the gleaming blue of the rope fly out… and catch.
Nazar roared in fury as his body became visible, a line of blue pulled tight over his neck and one shoulder. In his free hand, Rodion could see a bright ball of flame pulling together to fling at the woman who had caught him.
His own battle cry ripping from his throat, Rodion charged the sorcerer, using all his skill and strength to strike down his enemy. With a whirling leap, he sliced deep into the tempest around Nazar, then spun back to face him again.
Wounded and trapped, the wizard lost control of the vikhor. The whirlwind spirit pulled away from the sorcerer and spun off into the clouds, leaving behind a rippling whirl of dust and leaves and a hint of magic.
And there in the dirt lay a dark-haired man with silver streaks at his temples and cruelty like black fire in his eyes. Blood pooled beneath him, but he wasn’t dead.
Carina’s rope was pulled tight around his body and he struggled against the binding as she used the other end of the rope to tie him. In seconds, the wizard Nazar was bound hand and foot like a bawling calf.
Then she shoved back from the rope and stumbled, crying out.
Her arm was encased in thick black lines that he could see moving on her skin, staining her, causing her the same agony he’d felt as the shards of Gebil burned inside him.
Nazar, the sadistic bastard, laughed. A weak wheeze that still managed to breathe evil into the world.
Rodion caught her before she fell, then lowered her to the ground. He pulled her into his lap and looked down at her pale face.
“Carina, are you all right?”
Her beautiful eyes opened, lines of pain creasing the corners. “You know, I don’t think so. Not right now.”
He wrapped his arms around her, carefully avoiding touching the black poison, and hugged her close. “You have to stay with me.”
Tears leaked from her eyes, and when she caught her breath in a sob, he wanted to weep with her. “I’ll try, but Rodion, it burns. All the way inside.”
She was hot under his hands, a dry, sickly, feverish heat that he could feel radiating out from her arm. But at her words, his heart stuttered. Carefully, he pulled aside the collar of her shirt.
The black had spread.
Not just down her arm, but past her shoulder, up her neck and over her chest.
He muttered a foul word, and miraculously, Carina chuckled. “That’s just what I was thinking.”
“Shh,” he soothed her, smoothing back her hair. Tiny tendrils had come loose from her braid, and he tucked them behind her ear. “You’ll be all right.” But he couldn’t hide the dismay on his face from her.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying, milaya. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
She nodded, tears making tracks in the dirt and blood on her cheeks. He laid her down in the grass, making her as comfortable as he could, before he stalked back over to Nazar.
The sorcerer had been watching them, and now he coughed out a broken laugh, a demented, wounded old man. “You may have caught me, but you haven’t fulfilled the terms of the curse. I told you what you had to do.”
“Let her go, Nazar.”
“Like you let Burian go?”
Rodion knew he wouldn’t win this argument. There was no reasoning with madmen, but he tried anyway. “He was trying to kill me. I wouldn’t let him spread his poison in Volshev, and he thought it was worth fighting me.”
“It wasn’t worth his life!”
Rodion shook his head. Nazar was right about that. He’d known from the moment Burian had charged him that it would end badly. The young man hadn’t been skilled, but looking back, Rodion realized he had been scared. As if what awaited him if he failed was worth than death. “No, it wasn’t. But he didn’t give me much choice. Now heal her!”
“No.” The sorcerer curled his lip. “I wouldn’t even if I could. You have one more quest to finish. And she might not make it. Then you’ll know how I suffer.”
Cold hatred filled him. “If she dies, I’ll make sure you suffer like no man has ever known.”
Chapter Ten
This was a Rodion she’d never seen before, and she didn’t like it. Gruff, rude and curt, she could handle. But this promise of vengeance frightened her.
Inside her, she could feel the poison spreading, hot fingers stabbing deep, tainting her organs. She couldn’t die now. She had too much to do. She had to make sure that Rodion didn’t become the monster she was seeing now.
Carina reached for him, and he was by her side immediately.
“What do you need, milaya?”
“I need for you not to kill him. No matter what happens.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Too bad. You have to, or I swear I’ll haunt you. And not in a romantic Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze kind of way. It’ll be like that Ring chick with the creepy walk.”
The laugh that burst out of him wasn’t pretty, but it did the job. The darkness in his eyes faded away and he held her close. His warmth seeped through her skin and the black tendrils inside her retreated a little. She reached up to cup his rough cheek in her hand.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.
“I’ll try.”
For a moment, all was still and perfect.
Then Nazar gave a hacking cough and ruined it. Mood killer.
Rodion’s warmth – and maybe a little of his magic – was making her feel strong enough to sit up on her own, but she didn’t want to move away from him. Instead, she wiggled around until he was sitting cross legged, and she sat facing him, her legs wrapped around his really nicely superbly muscled tush.
His hands found a resting place on her hips, and by the time she was settled, there was heat in his eyes, as well as his hands.
She grinned.
“Feeling better?” he asked, those hard lips tilting up on one side.
“Much better. Every time we touch, it makes me stronger.”
His little smile turned into a leer.
“Then how much touching would it take to heal you?” As he spoke, his fingers made their way under her t-shirt. The feel of his rough skin against her back made her gasp and arch toward him.
“If that’s how this works, I’m all for it.”
He pulled her forward to nuzzle his lips against her throat, and she couldn’t quite hold back her moan. When he licked his way up to her jaw, she gasped and moved closer.
And when Nazar coughed again, they both groaned. He dropped his head to her shoulder.
“Timing. We need to work on our timing.”
The silkiness of his hair tickled her neck, and she rubbed her cheek against him. “Stupid evil wizards.”
“Yeah. Stupid evil wizards,” he repeated, planting one more soft kiss on her neck. Then he pushed back a little, taking his hands out from under her shirt. It left a cold spot on her skin. “Feeling better?”
Carina sighed and nodded. “I am. Not great, but better.” She pulled aside the collar of her t-shirt to examine her super-creepy tattoo. “I think it retreated a little. It still burns, but not as badly.”
He examined it with her. Or at least he looked down her shirt. His fingers tightened on her hips.
“Rodion?”
“Yup. Looks better.” His voice was a little strangled, and she held in a chuckle. There was a decent amount of real estate to look at down there. Not excessive, but neither she nor any previous admirers had ever been disappointed. At least she was wearing one of her good bras today. A supportive foundation garment made everything better. And a little satin and lace didn’t hurt.
She let him off the hook and crawled slowly off his lap. Not to tease him, but just because she was still weak and tired. He helped her stand with one hand under her elbow until she was steady on her feet.
Carina walked over to Nazar, then slowly knelt next to him to examine his wound. The slash went across his chest, deep enough to lay open the flesh, but not enough to damage any internal organs.
“I’m not going to untie you, but I am going to bandage this up to slow down the bleeding.”
“Why bother? Czernovitch is just going to kill me, anyway.”
“No, he’s not. You’re going to live a long and healthy life. In prison.” She glanced up at Rodion, who stood over them with his sword. “Prison, right?”
“Absolutely. I know a place built especially for his kind of people. Very safe and secure.”
Rodion’s smile was enough to frighten a sorcerer. Nazar paled and moaned.
Carina’s bag had been left in the house, and Daria brought it out to her, flanked by Trick and Cole.
Touching him as little as possible, Carina and Rodion bound the old man’s wound. Tired after the effort, Carina scooted away and sat back.
“There’s more, right? Isn’t there supposed to be a door?”
“You mean that door?” Trick pointed and she followed his gesture.
A free standing set of doors rose from the ground. Mist curled around the edges of the frame, showing nothing but wisps before they faded into the air.
Carina swallowed. “Ohh-kay. That doesn’t look menacing at all.”
It was so, so menacing.
And she was so tired. Rodion’s touch had helped, but she was in more pain than she would let on. But she had to keep going because if she stopped, he would, too. Not because he felt obligated – at least, not that she could tell – but because he really seemed to care about her.
The feeling was mutual. And it wasn’t the same feeling she’d had about him yesterday or last week, when she’d only admired him from afar because she thought he was good looking and mysterious. Now she knew so much more about him. She knew how he’d been injured, and how it had wounded him inside, beyond the physical. But she had also seen how he let in those who were close to him, how he loved his sister.
And she knew he had let her in, let her see him vulnerable and in pain, let her see him angry, and let her see him desiring her.
As the focus of that desire, she was very pleased that he knew what he was doing. The little curl of heat in her belly revived her, making it easier to take a deep breath.
She pulled her bag close, but left her rope in Trick’s hands.
; “Ready, milaya?” asked Rodion, pulling her up by one hand.
“I guess I’d better be. Are you feeling all right?”
With his one strong hand, he kept pulling until she was pressed against him. “I’m better now.”
“You keep calling me milaya. What does it mean?”
She’d never seen him blush before, but the tide of red that rushed up his neck and over his ears was probably the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
“It means sweetheart,” called out Daria. “I think he likes you.”
He took a deep breath, but didn’t let her go. “I think sisters are a pain.”
“We are,” said his sister. “It’s in the instruction manual.”
“Does it say where there’s a shut-off switch?”
Carina watched the siblings banter and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It looked like Daria didn’t object, which was great because she didn’t want to lose her friend. Or her… whatever Rodion was.
She poked him gently in the side with a fingertip. “Sweetheart? So do I call you milaya, or is it different for men?”
“You would say miliy. And I would say solnyshka, radast, angel moya.” His eyes burned with passion as he spoke. Russian had never sounded sexier.
“And as much fun as I’m having watching my brother fall for one of my best friends, there is a door here that’s waiting for you.”
Flame touched her arm at the reminder and she leaned back. “I think they’re telling us it’s time to go.”
He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “We’ll finish this later and I’ll teach you more Russian.”
She shivered at his warm breath against her neck. “Sounds good, miliy.”
His eyes flashed. “Perfect. You’ll be fluent in no time.”
Her whole body gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up at that before she willed herself to settle down.
They faced the door together. “So… do we knock?”
“No need,” he said, digging in his pocket. “We have a key. And a plan.”