by Marie Harte
Miranda swore at her inner conscience and told it to shut the hell up—the obscenities Danner’s influence, no doubt. She smiled and silenced her unspoken objections. I never claimed to be a lady. Now I’m a woman without regrets.
She wondered when they could try some of the other things from Philippe’s moving pictures.
Chapter Seven
Four days later Danner continued to steal glances at Miranda, but the danged woman acted as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He’d fully expected to deal with hysterics, clinginess, tears or, at the very least, an affronted innocent demanding he apologize for using her.
Instead she hummed as they walked over the hot sands of the Damned Plains. She made small comments here and there about the local wildlife. She pointed out clusters of water boulders and sand lizards. And she had the nerve to smile at him while keeping an obvious distance.
He didn’t know what the hell to think.
He should have been cocking around, proud and full of himself for not only being Miranda’s first, so to speak, but for also getting her to agree to more carnal explorations. But dammit, he didn’t like her lazy attitude about the whole thing. He’d never come so hard in his life, and that was including with the goddesses of lust. Yet this naïve female didn’t seem to mind his distance. Sex or no sex, Miranda was enjoying herself. Danner felt fucking insulted.
“Miranda,” he barked, talking to her for the first time since they’d left camp earlier that morning. Thankfully, they hadn’t hit much but a few rambling longtooths that avoided the warning shots of his rifle.
“Yes?” She glanced at him with a smile, her eyes hidden by the wide brim of her hat.
He took his own hat off and wiped sweat from his forehead before slamming it down on his head once more. “You okay?”
“Just fine.” She started humming again, and he clenched his jaw tight.
“I mean, you don’t have any problems with what happened between us the other day.” Four and a half long days ago.
She chuckled. “Not a one.”
“Out here, in the West, normal people touch each other. It’s not wrong, and it doesn’t automatically lead to marriage.” There, he’d out and said it.
“Heavens! I don’t want to marry you.”
He should have felt relief that she wasn’t taking their time together seriously. Instead, he glared at her. “Why the hell not?”
She shrugged, her dainty shoulders silky smooth and soft under that shirt she wore. Damn her, but he could see her so clearly in his mind’s eyes, naked and hot and writhing for him. “We haven’t yet consummated the actual act. I know you have no intention of getting me with child, so all is well.”
He paused at mention of children. With any normal woman, pregnancy wouldn’t be an issue, nor would disease. Godlings like Danner didn’t suffer from human illnesses, and unlike the gods, who could reproduce at will, only certain human females were compatible for breeding with demigods. But Miranda was a journeyman, like him. Who the hell knew what would happen if he came inside her? And why does the thought of that make me stiffer than an iron rod? He grimaced and subtly adjusted his hard-on as they continued their journey.
He watched her long legs eat up the plains. “So you’re not plannin’ on marrying me anytime soon.” She rolled her eyes at him, and he had to refrain from swearing out loud. “What about kids? You figure on having any, ever?”
“I don’t know. I only know I’m taking my life one step at a time.” Her accent sounded lighter. No Western drawl polluted her speech, but there was an easiness to her tone that hadn’t been there before. So she felt relaxed around him. Fucking fantastic. Except that it left him sexually frustrated, uncomfortable and short of temper.
“So we’ve another two days of travel, do you think, before we hit the Spyder Haven?” she asked, oblivious to his annoyance.
“Yeah. But if you’d shut your yap and move faster, we could get there in less time. We’ll continue through the night and rest in the morning. We’re heading into dangerous territory as we get close to the Spyder Haven. It’s best we travel during the night now if we can help it, to get through the bad parts faster.”
She stopped in her tracks and focused on him. “Why is traveling at night faster? What kind of bad parts?”
“At night we won’t be seen in the dark. The scum that normally wanders the desert has been scarce, and that makes me nervous. Crooks’ Pass is between another mess of mountains right before we get to Last Chance, the shantytown between the Damned Plains and the Spyder Haven. The pass is the perfect place for an ambush.”
“Crooks’ Pass, hmm? Sounds interesting.”
He grunted. “Yeah, if you don’t mind being staked out by cannibals and whoremongers.”
She didn’t look so jaunty now. Her mouth turned down. “Wonderful.”
Cheered that he’d brought her down a peg, he nodded. “Yep, the longtooth would just kill you; the cannibals will eat you alive. But don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
She nodded. “I trust that you will. Every step I take closer to Clarissa is a step closer to freedom. All of this has been vastly worth the trouble.” Miranda walked to him, pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Danner, from the bottom of my heart. Oh, and though you’ve eschewed payment, I don’t feel right putting you in danger for nothing. Your payment, in coin, is in the auton’s rear compartment. The ninety we first agreed upon.”
He stared at her as she walked in front of him again. The kiss and her thanks made him feel taller, stronger, more important. But the coin she’d given him as payment shot to hell his sense of goodwill. I don’t want her paying me. I want her needing me, and not just for protection. The woman should want me to marry her, to promise her forever. Why the hell doesn’t she?
Growling at the insanity taking over the rational part of his brain, he tried to separate the man lusting after Miranda’s body from the journeyman with a mission. He didn’t have time to be soft and emotional. He’d never had that problem before and he didn’t know how to handle it. He felt an urge to commit himself to Miranda, and the woman hadn’t done more than handle his cock with those firm hands. Just the thought of what she’d done, and the honeyed taste of her, had him obsessing about sinking his dick into her tight, never before used body.
The rest of the night and the next day passed by in a blur of arousal, broken only by Miranda’s occasional comments. To his surprise, he found he liked her sense of humor. More often than not he found himself laughing at her dry jokes. But he continued to refrain from touching her, wanting to control the lust that filled him in her presence.
Unfortunately, by the time they reached the start of the mountains at the entrance to Crooks’ Pass, Danner still hadn’t managed to overcome his attraction to the stubborn woman. By the lightning, it was growing worse. He really liked Miranda. A lot. Danner didn’t do like. The one time he’d tried it, he’d ended up sleeping with the wrong woman and had his ass tossed out of Vanaheim. The caw of blood ravens cackled overhead, interrupting his thoughts. But for the first time in a long time, they didn’t bother him. They drew his attention to a few places where he and Miranda could take a break and get naked. Gods knew he needed the respite. The woman had burrowed deeper than a sand tick under his skin, and he had to have her.
The ravens cawed again.
“Danner? What are they doing?”
He glanced up at them, watching as they formed a strange formation, a line pointing almost like an arrow to a direction just ahead of his and Miranda’s path.
A flash of lightning appeared in the sky and stopped him in his tracks.
“What the hell?” If he wasn’t mistaken, he’s just seen the familiar pattern of godwarning—a signal for him to right a human wrong. Ever since he’d been punished he’d lost all connection with the gods except for Vi, who taunted him with godbolts. No powers to ride between worlds. No flickers of foresight to guide the unwary and unsuspecting. When Danner saw something needing
to be fixed, he decided whether or not to fix it, with no help from anyone. He’d had to make do with his human limitations and the lingering lightning that sweetened his blood.
“Danner?” Miranda drew closer to him.
He blew out a frustrated breath. “The little bastards seem to be pointing the way to the Crystal Palace. Looks like whoever’s watching upstairs is interested in this quest of yours.”
“Wonderful.”
He didn’t want to think about what trouble those above might have in store for her. Damn if he’d let them toss her around the way they’d done him. “Don’t worry. There are ways around the gods.”
Miranda’s eyes widened. “Danner, shh. They might hear you.”
“Like I give a shit.” He wanted to go another round with Vi. Anytime, anywhere, jackass.
“But Danner—”
“Miranda, I know what I’m dealing with. Trust me, the gods aren’t what you’ve been taught your whole life. I can guarantee that.”
“Well, with the rate you spout heresy, we’re bound to be struck by lightning again. Good thing I’ve got my charm to protect me.” She tugged the necklace out from under her shirt.
The perfect lead-in to what he’d been building to tell her. “We need to talk about that charm, Miranda.”
They started moving again, and Danner set a faster, harder pace toward a large grouping of trees up the mountain.
“What about my charm?” she asked.
“Where did you get it?”
“My mother gave it to me when I was a young girl. She said it had been given to her.”
“By who?” He had a bad feeling. If what he suspected about Miranda were true, either her mother or father had been a god. Many times gods took the form of man to fuck with humanity, both literally and figuratively.
“She never said. But she told me I had my father’s eyes, which is odd, because the king’s eyes are brown. She got sick and died before telling me any more.”
Shit. “Honey, your father isn’t King Norcross.”
She stopped by a large shrub and didn’t move until he prodded her. “What does that mean?”
“It means what I said it means. He’s not your daddy.”
“He’s not? But he claimed me, not publicly of course. But he provided for me. The king would never claim a child out of wedlock that wasn’t his own.”
He hated that she sounded hopeful, because the alternative was far worse than a selfish monarch. “You know purple is a sign of the gods. The color of your eyes and your ability to handle the godbolts can mean only one thing. You’re a journeyman, like me. One of your parents, your father, I’m thinking, was a god. He probably took Norcross’s likeness when he met your mother, then forced the king into taking you on. Congratulations, darlin’, and welcome to my world.”
She blinked in shock. “You must be joking. Perhaps the heat has made you ill?”
Danner didn’t look as if he were joking. His pace hadn’t lagged either, as his gaze vacillated between the warning in the sky and her. “I’m just fine.” He drew a deep breath. “Look, I know this sounds off. But Miranda, charms can’t contain a godbolt and call it down from the heavens.”
She’d wondered about that a time or two herself.
“Didn’t anyone ever ask about your momma? Why you have such unique coloring? White hair and violet eyes aren’t common, Miranda. And hell, you can call lightning.”
“People rarely look at the lower classes, and the king had my mother and I sequestered in the royal gardens for much of our lives. We mingled with few servants, and those we did see were like me, misbegotten wards of the royal court. Sons and daughters of earls and dukes. Unwanted bastards who never talked about our pasts.”
“And after your mother passed?” he asked. “What about your time with the princess?”
She shrugged. “No one seemed to care much about me until Philippe.”
“The lightning never caused question?”
She flushed. “I never practiced where anyone could see. A few times my mother and I were allowed to leave the castle to gather seedlings or herbs from other places. I’d practice there, but Mother always told me never to show anyone.”
“So you really were stuck at the royal palace until you served Clarissa?” He added up the years, figuring her maybe a year or two past twenty.
“You could say that in some ways, Clarissa saved me.” She sighed. “She and I traveled to so many places, and I’ve seen much because of her. I know much more about the world than I once imagined.” She shot him a smile. “I daresay I’m here with you because of her.”
“One good thing to come from the princess of York, I guess.” He stayed next to her, matching his pace to hers. “Journeymen can do all manner of things, Miranda. In time you’ll find what you’re called to do. Heal the sick, inspire artists or craftsmen, wage wars against the oppressed. We do all manner of things, but mostly we help. Hell, keepin’ the gods off the backs of mankind is a job all by itself.” He chuckled but gave her a searching glance.
Since she had no idea what she might be capable of, she let herself wonder, imagining great and impossible things. They walked in silence for some time, as Miranda grappled with the thoughts running amok in her mind. For the past few days she’d dwelt on nothing but Danner. Her attraction for him, his unwilling attraction for her. The way a dimple flashed in his cheek when he laughed at her jokes, the affectionate interest he displayed when he didn’t think she was watching. She wanted him, but he needed to make the first move. For all that she and Danner had played, she was still a virgin and not at all confident in her ability to seduce a man.
But even a virgin could tell when a man had a constant erection. Yet Danner left her alone. He respected her person and her ability to take care of herself. He acted gruff, but he was the first to lend a hand to help her over a stubborn tree root. He made sure she ate and drank before he did, and he went out of his way to see to her every need. For a man determined to keep his distance, he sure did seem to have her needs in hand.
So why won’t he touch me again? She glanced at him and kicked an offending rock out of the way. And why should I be thinking about him when the blasted man ignores me at night? She needed to spend her time worrying over her future, not loving a man like Danner. She had enough problems to deal with, and now another mind-blowing revelation to handle: Norcross was not her father. When would the surprises end?
“King Norcross is not my father.” She liked the way that sounded. So many questions in her youth might now have answers. The king’s disdain, her mother’s solid love for a man seemingly so foul, Miranda’s strange coloring that resembled neither her mother nor father. Relief and fear mixed. She was overcome with joy to know she had no relation to the monarchy. But the daughter of a god? “So I’m a journeyman. A demigod.”
He winced. “Uh, I guess you could say that.”
“But you said you’re a journeyman.” She narrowed her eyes as understanding dawned. “You really do have a tiff with the God of Thunder. Vi, you called him.” Those in the East didn’t refer to gods by a given name, but by position. God of Thunder, Father God, Goddess of Love…
“Yeah. And I don’t think ‘tiff’ is the right word for it.”
The sky rumbled above them. Blood ravens flew closer, as if to listen in on the conversation.
She blinked, realizing they might in fact be doing just that. She leaned closer to Danner and whispered, “Do they work for him?” She nodded upward.
“Yeah. The damned birds have been trailing me for years.”
“Years?” What she’d heard of travelers—what Danner called journeymen—summed up their relationship to men and gods with one word. Service. Some of them helped to deliver the blessed contraptions that continued to push civilization further in terms of social advancement. The steam train, the auton, moving pictures and the like. Other journeymen ferried messages from the gods, while still others helped lost souls and wanderers find their way through life.
&
nbsp; “I used to travel between worlds. Midgard has its own beauty.” Midgard, an archaic term for the very world she stood upon. “But I really miss the mead in Vanaheim and the fighting in Asgard. Warring gods can be real entertaining.”
She stared at him so hard her eyes hurt. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “The journey, that’s what it’s all about, Miranda. And I haven’t been able to move around so fast or easily in years.”
“Why not?”
He opened his mouth and closed it with a snap. “That’s a story for another day.”
She wanted to press him, but the flash of lightning in his eyes warned her not to. Lightning. By the gods, he wasn’t lying. “Who is my father, then? My mother was a wonderful human woman.”
“The gods like to take other forms, to work their magic on the unwary.” He sounded bitter, and she knew he’d been tricked in some fashion by those above.
“But we buried her. I watched the light leave her eyes. I knew my mother.”
“She said you have your daddy’s eyes. Those are god eyes, honey. Purple with streaks of lightning. They make me think of one particular bastard who likes nothing better than to fry my organs.” He cursed under his breath
“Who? This Vi person?”
“God, or so he likes to call himself. The Western Overlord, as a matter of fact. Asshole loves all his titles.”
The sky crackled again, and the press of dark gray clouds loomed in the air.
“My word.” Miranda couldn’t believe it. To her shock, a blood raven appeared right above her head and landed on her shoulder. She stopped and didn’t move.
Danner groaned. “Well, hell. Vi’s your daddy, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
The large black bird cawed its laughter, and Miranda leaned away from its sharp beak. “I can’t believe this.” Her father, a god? Not just another man, but a living, glowing deity? She felt faint, unsure yet so very, very hopeful to learn she was no relation to King Norcross the Third.