by Abby James
That small welcoming sound gave Sargon the safety line he needed to stop his forward prowl.
“Where am I?”
He shook his head, as if returning from amnesia. It wasn’t enough to totally suppress his urges, but it enabled him to gather his scrambled mind and answer her.
“You’re at my place.”
She pushed herself to sitting. “I am? I don’t understand. How’s Picard?”
“Recovering.”
She sunk back on to the bed and let out a sigh. “Thank god. Can I see him?”
“Not just now.”
“But he’s going to make a full recovery, right?”
“You’ll never have to worry about that again. Are you hungry?”
She’d found what he said strange, if her frown was any indication. He wasn’t going to say any more, and maybe putting it like that was revealing too much. Something told him Malachi was a smart girl, full of curiosity, which didn’t bode well for their secrets.
“Come to think of it, I’m starving. We never got to eat last night.”
“Do you eat meat?”
“Of course, I eat anything, especially when I’m this starved.”
She came after him, her head swiveling around his apartment as she followed.
“The perks of being the CIC.”
“It suits me, but it’s considered ordinary when compared to where the rest of the social elite live.”
“This whole social hierarchy thing is going to take a little getting used to. Where I’m from, everyone is treated the same. Well…our mayor liked to think he was above everyone else, but no one saw him as any better. It was all in his head.”
“Your mother was much like you.”
Her face lightened. “You knew her?”
“No, I was young myself when she left. But it was known how much she shunned attention.”
“Do you remember my father?”
“Yes, I do. He was a great man. Someone worth emulating.”
After a pause, she asked, “And do you?”
“I try. Your father made the position look so easy. He had a way about him. The people loved him. They mourned his passing.”
“They say you can tell a good man by the company he keeps. Your friends respect you. They would do anything for you. And Picard, I can still see his face the day in the dungeon when he first met you. It was obvious how much he wanted to serve you.” A smile brightened her face. “I would say you’re doing very well at gathering your own loyal followers.”
He pulled eggs from the fridge. “I do not see Ryker and Chett as followers. They are an integral part of who I am. I wouldn’t succeed without them.”
“And that is also a true sign of a great man—the loyalty and faith he feels for his friends.”
Sargon quirked a smile. “Careful now, you don’t really know me. If you keep complimenting me, I’ll have too far to fall.”
She came around the kitchen island and grabbed an egg out of the carton, placing herself close, too close. He’d suppressed his desire for her, not diminished it, and with her so close, it tested his restraint.
“Guests aren’t allowed this side of the island bench.”
“Don’t tell me you’re handy in the kitchen.”
“Is a man not supposed to know how to cook eggs?”
“Not where I come from. Although Gustav knew a thing or two.”
“Who’s he?”
“My stepdad.”
“Your mother remarried.”
“And I have a baby sister, twelve now.” Her smile dropped as her eyes wandered from him to the bench top.
“If it was in my power, I would never have brought you here.”
“But if what you say is true, that war is coming from the north, it wouldn’t matter where any of us were. We would be affected.”
He couldn’t argue with that. When the war finally came, as he knew it would, no one would be safe.
“That animal last night. It wasn’t natural.”
He stilled, waiting for her to finish. The less she knew, the better.
“No animal attacks like that. It fought to the death. Even when badly wounded, it continued to savage Picard. I’ve seen pictures of wolves. They aren’t even that big.”
Sargon cracked two eggs into the pan, stringing out the seconds. He couldn’t think of a plausible explanation. “It will be investigated.”
What had happened last night forced them to act with Picard in a way they had not planned. The ancient texts were not specific about what it meant to imbue the source, but the writings had been bleak about the outcome. While it seemed the only possible way for them to save Turmenian–especially with the threat from King Idrus tapping into the northern font—they were not prepared to subject anyone else to the darkness that now inhabited them. But Sargon had not been ready to let Picard die. He’d proved valuable, and would continue to be so, Sargon felt, during what lay ahead. Besides, there were few men who showed such loyalty.
“You have an idea about it, though, don’t you?”
There was something compellingly expressive about her eyes. He’d said the wrong thing, which piqued her curiosity, or perhaps it was his obvious reluctance to speak about it.
He tried for nonchalance. “As you say, it wasn’t normal behavior. Although there’s been plenty of cases of wounded animals turning extremely aggressive.”
“You didn’t see it.” Her body involuntarily shuddered.
“I’m sorry you did. Picard should never have taken you up there. Chett instructed him to take you back to Miss Tule’s.”
“He’s not going to get in trouble for that, is he?”
“Picard is not his own man anymore. He must learn to follow orders.”
“He did follow orders. Chett told him to keep me safe, and he did.”
Their stares clashed and in those short moments Sargon discovered her steel. A very attractive trait in a woman. Her protectiveness of Picard was admirable, but the fondness she showed irked him. They hadn’t known each other overly long, and yet she’d developed a bond with him so soon. Had Picard kissed her on the ridge? The idea twisted his gut. It had nothing to do with him, but regardless, he was being affected. And the emotion was coming from him, or what was left of him, and not the other he was becoming.
It was time to take her back to Miss Tule. Malachi was a woman they all needed space from for the time being, or else things might well happen none of them had any control over.
Chapter 26
My mind kept diverting to Picard and everything that had happened the other night, so that the words in the old manuscript became an undecipherable language. They were hard enough to understand as it was with all the olden-day words and sentence structure. I pushed the book away and sunk my head to the desk.
Miss Tule had remained with a ruler line for lips on my return. Marnena flew down the stairs and gathered me in her arms while Sargon spoke with Miss Tule. Two days later and no lecture was forthcoming. As punishment, though, she’d practically locked me in the vault—my term for the secret room with all the books. It seemed my punishment was to pore over the old manuscripts with no break in sight.
I pushed away from the desk and got up to pace. I’d not heard from Sargon or the other two regarding Picard, but I was hardly their top priority, and before leaving me, Sargon had assured me Picard would make a full recovery. After stretching my arms over my head, I returned to the desk. Reading was the only way I was going to fast-forward time. But who cared about the way the ancients lived? It was so long ago, what influence could they have on life now?
I looked up at the sound of the vault door opening. Maya burst in, rushing over to bear hug me from behind, while I remained seated at the desk.
“Oh, my god, you’re still alive.”
“You heard?”
“Yeah, of course, stories like that can’t be buried. I also happened to overhear Sargon and Miss Tule speaking.” She slapped me playfully across the back. “And you did not tell me you we
re with Sargon. Oh, my god, the commander-in-chief. How the hell did you end up with him? Sweet Jesus, you spent the night at his apartment.” Her eyes were saucers. “Malachi,” she screeched. “Do you know what this means?”
“That I’m in big trouble.”
She hit me again. “Stupid, he likes you. Like, really likes you.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
She jumped up to sit on the table, covering the manuscript with her ass. “Sargon doesn’t take women to his apartment. Since he let his courtesan go, like, ages ago, he hasn’t shown any interest in women. I would never dare say he is gay. I mean, what a waste.”
“I was traumatized after what happened to Picard, and I guess he felt responsible.”
She leaned down placing a hand on mine. “You poor thing. It must’ve been terrible. But of course that’s not the reason. So spill.”
I blinked.
“What did he do to you? More importantly, what did you do back? Don’t spare me the details. I want all, in graphic gore.”
“I can’t tell you what he did, but I slept.”
“Bitch. You want me to suffer. I don’t see you for over a week and you land the hottest guy in Fortescue.”
“His friends are delectable too.”
She slapped the table with a flat palm. “Jesus, them as well. Honestly, I had you pegged as a good girl. Boy, was I wrong.”
I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you but I’ve slept with only one guy, and although he was handsome, he didn’t know much about pleasing women.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t capitalize on your situation.”
“Maya.” Although I tried for exasperation, the smile ruined everything. Thinking of Picard soon brought in the sober expression I needed. “It was horrible.”
Maya slid off the table and wrapped her arms around me from behind.
“Sargon assures me he is going to be all right. He was so messed up. We went to the Arena afterward.”
“The Arena?” Maya came around to lean against the table.
“That’s what I thought. But they all seemed to think it was the best place for him.”
“Weird. There is a medical post within the Arena, but it’s not equipped to deal with near-death injuries. And no one would be there at that time of night to man it.”
“The animal that attacked us was not normal. Ryker said it was a wolf, but one like I’ve never seen before.”
“I’ve never heard of a wolf attacking. The wolves in these parts are generally timid of humans.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“You think Picard’s not going to make it?”
“No. I don’t know how to explain it. But for the last few days, I’ve been unable to think of anything else. Even the way Miss Tule’s been acting toward me and the other three.” I shook my head. “I’m messed up. I’m thinking stupid things.”
“Honey, that’s to be expected. Picard nearly died, and you with him.”
A knock at the door disturbed us. A woman I’d never seen at the academy poked her head through the door.
Maya straightened. “Hey, Tessa.”
Tessa flashed a small smile. “Miss Tule wants Malachi to be at the entrance in ten minutes.
Maya and I exchanged looks as Tessa disappeared.
“Sounds like you’re going somewhere.”
I sighed. “At last.”
Maya and I left the vault and made straight for the entrance. Eagerness sprung every step I made. This could only mean I was heading back to the Arena, since the only times I’d left this place had been in the company of Ryker or Chett. Almost at the great foyer, Maya grabbed my arm. “Listen.”
Voices and one of them was male. Chett. I broke from Maya’s hold and hurried through the arch. Miss Tule stood, arms folded across her chest. The attention she gave him meant their conversation was important, but our entrance broke Chett off. Something flashed in his eyes when he saw me and my body flared to life, the kind of thing that happened when you were hanging close to danger or about to experience something you didn’t want to miss. For me, the two were closely aligned and equally responsible for how I felt.
Drawn to Chett like a magnet, I didn’t notice as Maya melted from my side. What was it with these three? Something didn’t add up about them. They were tight, more so than just good friends, like they were cobbled together by a secret. And I’d slipped into unconsciousness at the mere touch of one of them enough times for it to be more than a coincidence. And then the other night with Picard. Why take him to the Arena? Sargon had been so sure he would survive, as if he was privy to something.
“Are you going to take me to see Picard?”
A slight twitch of his brow and narrowing of his eyes told me he wasn’t happy to hear me mention Picard’s name. Oops, if only I could take the words back. Was his reaction because of jealousy? Surely not. Although the idea he would be interested tingled good feelings in my stomach. As if that wasn’t confusing. How could I be equally attracted to all of them?
Miss Tule slipped a glance at me, but there was nothing in her expression for me to read. Her attention settled behind me. “Maya, where should you be right now?”
“Not here, Miss.”
I turned but she’d already disappeared. Miss Tule passed me without a word, leaving Chett and me alone.
This felt like a first date. “Where are we going?” I said to cover my sudden awkwardness that came with thinking about going on a date with Chett.
“To the Arena.”
I smiled. “Of course, stupid of me. Got to ask, though, why is it one of you always comes to collect me? Can’t I be trusted to get there myself? I know where it is by now.”
“It’s not you we don’t trust.”
“Oh.” More mysteries and secrets. “Are you ever going to be forthcoming with me?”
The expression on Chett’s face would’ve amused me if I wasn’t getting frustrated by how much they weren’t saying.
“You’re a problem.”
“Me? I’m not the one keeping secrets.”
The way he strode toward me inched my heart rate up one step at a time. “You’re going to be a devil to keep an eye on.”
“Isn’t that Miss Tule’s job?”
He was very close to me now. And all I could think about was the earthy scents that came my way. When had this scenario turned so hot?
“Yes,” he said.
What was that response in relation to? Oh, yes, my question. “I don’t get you, any of you. And I have questions.”
“I bet you do.”
“About the other night. And the times when I mysteriously fell asleep in your presence.”
Chett threatened me with a kiss, or so it seemed—and I hoped—by inching his face closer.
“Is this you trying to distract me?”
“Is it working?”
Totally. “No.”
In a confusing flash, Chett was knocked away by a punch to the side of his head. Picard’s face twisted in anger. “Don’t touch her.”
Oh, my god, he was here. He was all right. He looked like nothing had happened. What? But that didn’t make sense. Before I could voice any of my shock, Chett descended on him, a vise grip around his throat. Picard tried to smack his hand away, but Chett’s hold was steel. Picard lashed out at his imprisonment and the next thing I knew they were in a fight.
“Guys, what are you doing?”
Lost as they were in their fight, both ignored me. Picard was good, but Chett was so much better. I couldn’t stand by and watch Picard get pummeled. The only thing I could think of doing was trying to get in the way. But I was saved from risking that by Sargon, who came crashing through the door, followed by Ryker.
Behind me, people arrived. I looked over my shoulder to see Miss Tule, Maya and some of the other girls drawn to the noise of the fight.
“Enough,” Sargon bellowed. The two stopped. He shot daggers at both. “Get out,” he barked. Chett and Picard let each other go. Picard
looked suitably chastised, but it appeared as though it would take Chett a little longer to get over the unprovoked attack. All the same, they did as Sargon ordered. Ryker grabbed Chett’s elbow as he passed by, but Chett jerked him off.
Sargon looked to Miss Tule. “That should never have happened. I’m sorry. We won’t bother you any longer.”
He marched to the door, following Ryker out, leaving me. But they’d come to get me. There was no way they were leaving me here with Miss Tule. By the way she was looking at me—as if what had just happened was all my fault—I’d say she was plotting to lock me in the vault for the next week until I could recite all of the ancient manuscript by heart. Before I was thinking, my legs were running me to the front door.
“Malachi,” Miss Tule yelled. I ignored her, probably to my detriment, and chased the guys outside.
“Hang on a moment.”
Sargon waved Ryker to the car. The other two were waiting on either side, not looking at each other.
“Leaving without someone?”
“Not this time.”
“But that’s not fair. You owe me answers.”
He took a step toward me. “Do I now?”
“Why did you come here?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “For the wrong reasons.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I glanced at Picard. Even from here, I was washed in his vibe, which sparked and fizzled, ready to ignite. “And what happened to him? Two days ago, I thought I would be attending his funeral because his chest was gaping open and now he looks”—I glanced at him again—“good…really good.”
Sargon moved to block my view of Picard. “I thought you would want to know how he was doing. Picard wanted to reassure you in person. But I see that was a mistake.”
“To hell it was—”
Sargon grabbed me by the upper arms. “Malachi. Picard needs some time, and space.”
“From me?”
Sargon sighed, like he was attempting to explain something simple to a child. “We all need some space.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Miss Tule will handle your training.”