The War Priest

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The War Priest Page 22

by Ann Aguirre


  “Don’t give up hope.” He wasn’t good at this, but he clasped Jere on the shoulder, hoping it was enough. “You’ll lead the clan in my absence.”

  “But I want to fight!”

  “We can’t leave the people leaderless, and you’re kinder than I am. Warmer, too. They’ll do better with you at the helm.” While he didn’t add ‘if I die horribly’, it was implicit. “We can’t both go to war and leave them rudderless.”

  Jere frowned for a few seconds but eventually nodded. “I’d argue that you should remain behind, but my people skills are better than yours. No offense.”

  “None taken. I’m off to make that call then.”

  In the security office, he silently activated the wireless and switched off the jammers, hoping people had gotten away from carrying their phones everywhere. Quickly, he connected to the factory. “This is Callum at Burnt Amber.”

  “What the hell is happening? I’ve got people from Bright’s Landing asleep in my breakroom and a stockpile spilling out of the warehouse. There haven’t been any pickups since—”

  “I don’t have time to listen to your complaints,” Callum cut in. Such terseness might cost him later, but he couldn’t worry about employee relations right then. “We believe that the Golgoth are heading for your location. I need you to sabotage the machines and…” He hated like hell to give this order. “Destroy the warehouse. Then get the hell out of there. Do you understand?”

  There was a brief silence. “How long do we have?”

  “Twelve to eighteen hours. Gone before dawn, that’s your target. Will you comply?” he asked.

  “Affirmative. I’ll rig the warehouse to blow when they try to open the door without the access key. If we’re wasting our shipments, we should at least take out some Gols as well.”

  “Good thinking,” Callum said. “That’s all. We’ll be out of touch again until it’s safe to turn comms back on permanently.” If it ever is. “You can reach us in an emergency using the old signal device, if you can find one on your end.”

  “I’ll remember that. Goddess bless and keep you. Martens out.”

  Neither Trini nor Emilia spoke as he switched off communications again. Callum activated the public announcement channel, used so rarely that everyone knew it must be a grave matter the moment his voice boomed across the hold. “We need everyone who’s willing and able to fight ready to march this evening. Assemble in the square. No one will be conscripted or compelled. We’re moving to protect our other settlements.” And the factory, but he didn’t mention the latter, aware that he would sound like he cared about weapons more than people.

  He tapped the button to turn off the transmission, well able to imagine the shock and fear rioting throughout the hold. Callum had tried to keep how bad the situation was under wraps, but now everyone knew. Trained soldiers or not, they had to defeat the Gols. Pledging fealty to Tycho Vega wasn’t an option.

  “We’re with you,” Emilia said, offering her hand for him to shake.

  So bad at this sort of thing. Callum never knew how much pressure was right or how long he should hold, and it would be simpler if he could simply demur without looking like a total ass. He got through it and left the security chiefs to their work.

  Though he wasn’t a monk anymore, he still took comfort in the rituals. People kept stopping him on the way to the chapel, inundating him with terrified questions. Callum answered as best he could, offering consolation by pretending he was still a holy brother. That was easier somehow, speaking dispassionate words of comfort even if he no longer entirely believed that this was all part of the goddess’s plan. Even before Joss, war had stripped away some of his faith, leaving him to question divinities that allowed such evil to flourish.

  At last he reached the serenity of the chapel, where he lit the candles and knelt, praying for those they had lost, praying for the survivors as well. In time a semblance of peace suffused him, fractured but still tangible. He groaned as he straightened to find Joss waiting for him silently in the last row. Her hands were folded and her head was bowed in a respectful posture, but her eyes? They were fixed on him.

  “You heard the news,” he said.

  “Everyone did. They’re weeping in the garden out back. I thought I might find you here. Making peace with the goddess in case you don’t come back?” She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, the green of an icy sea with a storm threatening.

  “The war won’t kill me,” he whispered. “But leaving you might.”

  “Then don’t. Let me come with you. I’m officially blooded in battle, and before, you said anyone who was willing to fight. Here I am.” Joss stood and did a little twirl, then ran down the aisle toward him.

  Callum caught her in both arms and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, leaning down to get as close as possible. She feels so good. “I’ve never been able to refuse you. Not even when I should.”

  “If nothing else, I can scout.”

  Breathing her in, he shuddered at how much he wanted her, though it hadn’t been that long. “We have about six hours, kit. How should we spend them?”

  She leveled on him a look that absolutely smoldered. “Let me swing by the club to tell Nayan I won’t be performing tonight.”

  24.

  Joss found Callum waiting for her in bed. Already naked.

  I could get used to this.

  Maybe it was the years of celibacy that made him so hungry. Regardless, she was on board with this program, especially if they only had six hours.

  Three hundred and sixty minutes.

  Not nearly enough.

  After that, it would be all death and destruction, so it was totally normal to do a little life-affirming first. Even if it wasn’t, she had no intention of stopping.

  She flung her clothes to all corners or the room and pounced on him. He hauled her in for a long, luscious kiss—gods, but he’s good with his tongue. She nipped and nuzzled into his mouth, relishing in the feel of his beard.

  “You were right,” he gasped.

  “About what?”

  “It’s getting stronger. I can hardly look at you lately without wanting to—”

  “Tear my clothes off? It’s mutual. Lay back, I’m tasting you all over. You had a go, but I haven’t, and that’s criminally unjust.”

  “Can’t have that.”

  “No, we cannot.”

  Obligingly, Callum propped himself up against the headboard, taking up most of her bed in his absurdly sexy sprawl. Joss started at his neck and worked her way down with her mouth, biting his chest and shoulders, until his breath caught. Tracing his nipples with her tongue. Kissing his chest. Biting just hard enough to make him quiver and dig his hands into the covers.

  “Fuck,” he snarled. “We don’t have that much time, kit. And you’re taking yours.”

  “Long enough for me to savor you. Just let yourself feel good for once.”

  “I’d rather feel you,” he muttered.

  But he didn’t use his physical power to stop her and she kept nuzzling lower, over his belly, to the sizable cock throbbing for attention. To torment him further, she loved his thighs with her tongue, licking between them, ever so slowly inward.

  He squirmed and groaned and when she showed no urgency, he fisted his cock and stroked it while she kissed and licked his balls. “Don’t know what you have in mind, but my self-control is hanging by a thread.”

  “Can’t have that. And you’ve had ample opportunity to play with this. It’s my turn, hands off.” With that, she pulled his cock toward her mouth and tasted the tip with her tongue.

  First, fluttery licks, then more thorough ones. He was already leaking, and his whole body jerked when she sucked him into her mouth fully. Callum tangled his hands in her hair and tugged, then he urged her head down.

  “All the way if you’ve a mind to pleasure me.”

  She smiled with her eyes since her lips were occupied, and then she devoted herself to sucking him off, using lips, teeth, thro
at, and tongue in sensuous concert, working him until his hips moved, urgent, furtive little thrusts as if he wanted to control himself but couldn’t.

  His unleashed need drove her own even higher, so she worked her pussy against the mattress each time she tasted his excitement on her tongue. She felt each insistent swell and throb, and his groans sounded like he might be getting close. But he pulled her mouth free with a wet pop.

  “I’m fully primed, but I want to make love to you before…”

  “Yes,” she breathed as he pulled her up for a long, delicious kiss.

  He sipped at her tongue and ran his hand down her back, massaging in sweet circles, and then he palmed her ass, rubbing it as well. The motion drew their bodies together, creating friction, the slick slide of her pussy against his cock.

  “That feel good?” he whispered.

  “Yes.” That one syllable was all she could get out as he adjusted her on him effortlessly, moving her slowly back and forth across his shaft.

  Then he caressed her clit with a delicate touch, one she couldn’t have imagined just by looking at him. He strummed her like an instrument, watching her face the whole time for cues and adjusting speed and pressure according to her slightest reaction. Her nipples were tight, aching for attention, and she touched her own breasts, but as she had done with him, he tugged them away.

  “What did you say before? Let me.”

  He caressed and stroked, kissed and sucked, until she trembled with need. But when she tried to finish their connection, he gave a sultry smile and flipped her over.

  “Like this.”

  Callum was so big as he pushed into her from behind, and he was everywhere, his scent enfolding her just as his body did, curved above her, over her. He played with her breasts as he fucked her, deep and slow, and offered the occasional stroke to her clit. The fifth time he touched her there, she came all over his shaft and he kept moving, working her to another orgasm.

  Only then did he let go, sweeping aside her hair to kiss the side of her neck as his cock throbbed and softened. She felt…claimed by that kiss. Taken. And it was odd, because it was the softest, gentlest touch, one that she would feel on her skin forever. The heat of his mouth, the scrape of his beard.

  She rolled over into his arms and settled with her head on his shoulder. “That was beautiful. And so are you.”

  “I’m not, but I believe you think so.”

  “I am never wrong,” she declared. Which was, in fact, a spectacularly inaccurate statement.

  Callum must be truly fond of her, however, because he didn’t dispute the issue. Instead he buried his face in her messy hair and said, “I love the way you smell.”

  Joss grinned. “Right now, I smell like you’ve royally fucked me.”

  “Like I said.” A lazy stroke of one big hand down her back.

  “Tell me a secret, something nobody else knows about you,” she demanded.

  “That won’t be difficult, kit. You’ve gotten closer to me than anyone has in years.”

  “Okay, I love that, but I’m not letting you off the hook.”

  “Fine,” Callum said, sounding thoughtful. “I wanted to be a…sailor when I was small.”

  “You mean a pirate,” she guessed.

  He shot her a startled look. “How did you know?”

  “That’s adorable. My turn. I had a completely filthy sex fantasy about you when I first saw you in full ceremonial regalia.”

  He levered up on one elbow. “That’s remarkably wicked. Perhaps I should assign penance.” Then he cupped her ass as if he might smack it, and while Joss wouldn’t have said that was her thing ten minutes ago, she might get on board with naughty penitent and stern monk, if Callum had those inclinations.

  For a few moments, he held the imposing stare, then he started laughing. “Relax, kit. I’m teasing. I’ve no mind to punish you for admiring me. One day I’ll put on the robe so you can strip it off, if you like.”

  “Are you allowed to do that?” she asked, wide-eyed, feigning shock.

  “I won’t tell the abbot if you don’t.”

  For some reason, she imagined confessing that fantasy to the old monk and couldn’t stop giggling. “Let’s agree to keep quiet for the sake of my reputation if not my immortal soul.”

  “You certainly imperiled mine,” he muttered. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to resist you?”

  “Terrible and torturous, I hope.” To soften those words, she kissed his nose. “In a perfect life, what would our life look like for you?”

  “Our life,” he repeated in a musing tone. “I do enjoy the sound of that.”

  “That’s not an answer.” She tipped her head sideways to see his face better.

  “In all honesty, I haven’t had the leisure to consider. Everything has happened so fast, and we still don’t have time to think about where we go from here.”

  The word ‘time’ made her flinch. Only five hours left. “That’s true,” she said softly.

  “What about you?” Callum asked.

  Gods, she couldn’t admit that she’d been building houses with him in her mind from the first moment she saw him. So she prevaricated. “Music has been the only permanent fixture in my life so far. I hope you’ll be the next immovable object.”

  “Just try getting rid of me now.” Callum kissed her temple, her brow, her chin, and the warmth seemed fleeting somehow, a joy she could too easily lose.

  Joss didn’t want to sleep, but it would be incredibly ill-advised to march without resting at all. With a regretful sound, she closed her eyes.

  Callum gazed down at her sleeping face. His lover. No, more than that. His beloved. That word was big enough to represent the space she occupied in his heart. In the courtyard, volunteers had begun to assemble. It was almost departure time and…

  He would not awaken her.

  Earlier, he’d spoken the truth when he said he couldn’t refuse her. Which was why he’d chosen the coward’s route and elected to leave without a personal farewell. She might not forgive him and perhaps she shouldn’t.

  Let’s leave it up to fate then.

  Though he was many things, he wasn’t bastard enough to slip away without leaving a message, and if she woke up while he was writing to her, so be it. Then she was meant to fight alongside him. In the sitting room, he set pen to paper and let the words flow.

  My dearest kit,

  By the time you get this, I’ll be gone. Goddess willing, I’ll see you again soon and you can berate me to your heart’s content. Claw and hiss and bite if you will; I’ll take it all.

  The one thing I can’t do, love, is see you wounded. Not in body, not in spirit. You’re willing to fight, but you’re not a warrior. Taking lives changes you. I saw clearly how tormented you were after saving me, and I can’t stand to see your bright spark extinguished. I’m afraid more killing will damage the soul that sings like an angel, and I can’t live without that light. For me, you’re like the sun, rising suddenly when I’d lost all hope of seeing another daybreak. I need you at Burnt Amber where I know you’ll be safe. The drones can scout and if they’re taken by the enemy, it won’t break my heart.

  Stay with our people. Love them as I can’t. Comfort them. Sing for them. Keep the fire of hope alive. I truly believe there’s magic in you and it doesn’t belong on the battlefield. You are a blessing I never expected, a treasure too dear for my possession, if I’m honest. Your grace belongs to the whole damn world, and I’m so lucky that I got to be with you for a while.

  I hope this isn’t all, but if the worst comes to pass, don’t mourn me. Just call me an awful bastard and forget me. Part of me hopes that you won’t be able to, but then, I’m a selfish ass. Cowardly too, which is why you’re getting this letter. (I’m afraid I’ll yield if you look at me with those eyes. When it comes to you, I have no self-restraint.)

  Please stay safe. Stay strong. Goddess willing, this will be over soon, and I can come home to you. There are words I’m saving to speak to you in pe
rson.

  The rottenest of bastards, Callum

  Quietly, he set down the pen and listened. Still no noise from the bedroom. With precise motions that revealed nothing of his anguish and turmoil, he folded the note and wrote her name on the back side of the page.

  Then he crept to the doorway to drink her in. Red hair, in shadow now, so it hid the fire, smooth skin, her soft, generous mouth curved in a half-smile. She must be dreaming, hopefully about me. But she didn’t stir, deeply asleep and sprawled in the warm spot where his body had been.

  Then he gathered himself and padded from the apartment, boots in hand. He didn’t put them on until he got to the end of the hallway. Frightened and fluttery, Renna stepped out into the corridor and she seemed like she was about to ask him something, but she appeared to change her mind.

  “Good luck out there,” was all she said.

  Callum offered a curt nod and when he stepped into the stairwell, he was startled by a damn trickle on his cheek. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wept. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he reined himself in. This wasn’t the face of a man ready to win a war.

  In the square, there were more people assembled than he’d expected. Fully half of Burnt Amber’s population, a sizable force. But pitting untrained civilians against Gols in brute form, eh. Even bear strength might not be enough. Not everyone had the instinct to rend and tear into another person.

  But everyone gathered seemed determined, and Callum didn’t mince words. “We’re leaving in five minutes. We don’t have supplies to spare, so we’ll travel in bear form and hunt on the way.”

  “That will leave more food for the survivors,” a young woman said.

  That cut him to the bone. These folks suspected they might be following him to certain death, but they were going anyway. I’m not worthy of this. The tears that got away from him before threatened again.

  “We don’t have squads,” he said then. “Just listen and follow orders out there. If you hear from Trini or Emilia, they speak with my voice as well.”

 

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