Dark Warrior Unbroken

by Dark Warrior Unbroken (lit)

  This time she was the one with wandering hands and mounds of lather. When she slid further down to fist his erection, he tried to stop her.

  “What’s the matter? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” she teased.

  His eyes flashed wide with golden heat. “I was just going to suggest that the bed’s more comfortable. And it has more room for what I have in mind.”

  “I still get to be on top.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  They stood and rinsed off under the shower, kissing long and sweetly. Then Sandor dried her from head to toe, taking extra time at certain stops along the way. She took the same care with him.

  Afterward, snuggling under the covers, she reminded him it was her turn to set the pace. He surrendered without a fight, and let her have her wicked, wicked way with him.

  Such a prince.

  Sandor wasn’t sure if he could move a muscle. Hell, he could hardly breathe—not that he was complaining. Lena lay cuddled against his side, her head on his heart. Maybe he should have been sleeping, too, but he could feel their time together slipping away and didn’t want to waste a single moment.

  How was he ever going to let her go? He remembered all too clearly telling Ranulf he would be a fool not to claim Kerry as his own. The Viking must think it was a hoot that Sandor found himself with the same dilemma so soon afterward. Why was it always easier to give advice than to take it? Of course, their circumstances were different. Kerry needed to be part of the Kyth. Lena would be better off if she’d never heard of them.

  “You’re thinking too hard.” Lena lifted her head briefly to peer up at him. “Can’t you sleep?”

  “I can’t seem to shut off my mind.”

  “Well, it has been an eventful couple of days.” She snuggled back in again. “Maybe you need something to distract you.”

  A woman after his own heart. “What do you have in mind?”

  He felt her smile against his chest as she began lightly tracing patterns on his skin with her fingers. “Well, I was thinking about something hot…” She paused to nibble his shoulder.

  “That sounds promising.”

  “With a lot of spice…” Her hand trailed lower down his body.

  “Even better.” He’d thought he was all played out, but he was willing to be proven wrong.

  “And with lots of cheese.”

  “Cheese?” Had he heard that right? Or had all the blood in his body rushing south affected his hearing?

  The minx giggled. “Yep, I’m hungry for pizza. Is there a twenty-four-hour delivery place around here? It’ll even be my treat.”

  “Okay, pizza it is, then.” His hands did some sneaky exploring of their own. “But what will we do while we wait for the delivery guy?”

  She scooted to the other side of the bed. “After you make the call, we’ll see.”

  Luckily, he had the pizza joint on speed dial.

  Kerry watched a couple of squirrels squabbling out in the garden and smiled. It had taken them less than half an hour to conquer her newest squirrel-proof bird feeder, setting a new record. Their previous best had been forty-five minutes.

  Some people might find that frustrating, but she appreciated their antics, which were a welcome distraction from the business of mastering her duties as Grand Dame. Most of the time she enjoyed the challenges of learning her new culture and its rich history. And luckily, she’d absorbed a lot of information directly from her predecessor, which had simplified the process to some degree.

  However, because Judith had been dying when she’d transferred her memories to Kerry, she’d been unable to filter the content. It was disconcerting to see the world through the eyes of someone who’d witnessed over a millennium of history, to feel that it had been Kerry herself who had met people who’d lived out their lives centuries before she had been born.

  But it was the personal memories that were the hardest to incorporate into Kerry’s new view of the world. Through Judith’s eyes, she’d seen Ranulf as a young man, stricken with grief over the death of his first wife. His pain had been so raw, making her wish she could find some way to reach back through the centuries to comfort him.

  At times it was hard to sort out her own feelings and beliefs from that of the late Dame. Now was one of those tough moments. She turned away from the window, resisting the temptation to blow off the lengthy To Do list on her desk.

  Sitting back down, she checked the file that Sandor had sent her sometime during the night. It contained the latest information on his investigation into the renegades. Her heart hurt with the burden of what she had to do, what her people expected her to do, what their law required her to do. Kerry had trained to be a graphic artist—not exactly a background conducive to comfortably signing an execution order.

  She understood the need for it. She’d seen firsthand the horror that a renegade Kyth could perpetrate. Though these particular renegades hadn’t killed anyone yet, Sandor and Ranulf were convinced that it was only a matter of time. The attacks were growing more frequent and more violent.

  Kyth law was clear on the matter. If a Kyth deliberately harmed a human, the penalty was death.

  She set the pen down, needing more time to come to terms with ordering someone’s death. She worried about the effect that carrying out her orders would have on Sandor. Ranulf had offered to step in, to save the younger Talion the heartache of another execution so soon on the heels of his first one. But they both knew that Sandor would insist on doing his job, and her husband had already borne that burden for far too long.

  Third on her list of worries was Lena Wilson. The woman was an unknown quantity. Kerry was relatively sure that Lena wouldn’t turn Sandor in to the police for executing Coop’s killer. There was no evidence.

  But what did Lena think was going to happen when they found the renegades? Kerry leaned back and briefly closed her eyes. She so didn’t want to think about this anymore.

  Instead, she picked up the heavy vellum envelope that had been delivered by courier earlier that morning. The letter inside was handwritten in ornate calligraphy, the wording stiff and formal. She was the pinnacle of royalty among the Kyth, and all it took was one letter from the Old World contingent of her people to make her feel like a low-rent upstart.

  She scanned the words for the tenth time, looking for some clue as to what they really wanted. All she knew for sure was that they’d sent an emissary to present their greetings to the new Grand Dame, as well as their concerns about ensuring a smooth transition. And he was due to arrive in the next twenty-four hours.

  As a strategy, she couldn’t fault it. Rather than give her an opportunity to tell them that this wasn’t a good time for anyone to visit, they’d waited until their man was already in transit to announce his arrival. She didn’t need a stranger sitting in judgment on her actions right now, and she had no doubt that he’d be reporting back to someone on a regular basis. Greyhill Danby: his name reeked of Old World sophistication.

  Ranulf picked the perfect moment to stroll through the door, and she immediately deserted her desk in favor of a kiss for her husband. Smart man that he was, he didn’t question his good fortune until they came up for air.

  His callused hand cupped her cheek gently as he banked the flames in his bright blue eyes. “Not that I mind being swept off my feet by my lovely wife, but what’s up?”

  “I can’t just be glad to see my husband?”

  “I’ve only been gone for an hour, so I repeat: what’s up?” He led her toward the chair in the corner, sat down, and tugged her onto his lap.

  “I’ve been reading Sandor’s report. He’s narrowed the search area down and wants you to help him track down our elusive renegades.”

  “And?”

  “And I need to sign an execution order for the first time, with this Talion from Europe due to land on our doorstep any minute. Which reminds me, I need to make sure Hughes has a guest room prepared.”

  Ranulf’s hand stroked her back in comfort. “I don�
��t suppose there’s much chance he’d prefer a hotel.”

  She shook her head. “We can always hope, but I want to be ready just in case. Besides, until we know who’s jerking his strings, we can assume his orders are to keep a close eye on how I operate. He’ll do that better from here.”

  Ranulf held her close against the worn flannel shirt he wore over a plain white T-shirt. Her Viking was a man of simple tastes but rock solid through and through. Surrounded by his strength and scent, her stomach unclenched and she could breathe.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I think you’re doing a fine job. And if this visiting Talion causes you any problems, leave him to me. I’ll tie his strings in knots.

  “And as far as the renegades are concerned, just think about the people they’ve been hurting.”

  “I know. And I know the degree of violence will start to escalate.”

  “So what’s the problem? Our law is crystal clear on this subject.”

  “So Judith’s memories keep telling me. I find myself wanting to lead the charge for justice, sword in hand and screaming a Viking battle cry.” She frowned. “You did have battle cries, didn’t you?”

  He laughed. “Some of the best. Remind me the next time we’re up on the mountain, and I’ll teach you a few. I’d do it now, but we’d probably upset the neighbors.”

  “Do I get my own horned helmet?”

  He looked a bit insulted. “My tribe never wore anything like that. But if you want to, you can borrow one of my knives to wave around and menace the local fauna.”

  He was making fun of her. She just knew it. “A knife? Why not a sword?”

  “Because you couldn’t lift one of my swords, much less swing it. One of my longer knives would be the perfect size for a little bit like you to brandish while you practice screaming oaths in old Norse.” From the way he chuckled, he obviously found the whole idea hilarious.

  She loved making her husband laugh. From Judith’s memories and her own, she knew that Ranulf had gone way too many years with no joy in his life. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t extract a little revenge.

  She tweaked a lock of his hair. “Well, I might not be able to lift your sword, my Viking love, but if you keep making fun of me, I’ll flatten you against the nearest wall and keep you there. How would you like that?”

  The blue flames were back. “I’d like it just fine, if you promise to take advantage of me while I’m at your mercy.”

  Now that was an image to be savored. “Are you sure I can’t play with your sword? Right now?” She basked in the warm approval in his eyes.

  “Only if you promise to take really good care of it.”

  She slid down to kneel between his legs. “Believe me, I plan to.”

  Sean hated making Tara unhappy, but right now he had no choice. Neither did she, though she obviously didn’t agree.

  “I’m not leaving and neither are you!” She plopped down on her chair, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared up at him.

  Sean prayed for patience, but it was in short supply. Where was the easygoing woman he’d been living with for all this time?

  “We have to go. It’s not safe here anymore.”

  “No! I won’t pack, I won’t leave, and you and Kenny aren’t going to either. This is our home, the first one any of us have had for years.”

  “We’ll find another place in another city. Portland, or San Francisco maybe. You pick.”

  She stared at him, defiance coming off her in waves. “Well then, I pick Seattle.”

  “Damn it, Tara, that isn’t an option.” He began pacing to maintain control over his temper. Despite having fed heavily the other night, he was already hungry again. Maybe the sickness had caused him to burn up his reserves faster than normal, but he needed to feed again, and soon.

  “Make it an option, Sean. I’m tired of running all the time.” She looked around their cramped quarters. “Every time we move, we have to start all over again. It takes us weeks, even months, to find jobs and save up enough money for an apartment and all the stuff that we need to live.”

  She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. He thought of all the hours they’d spent haunting thrift shops to find furniture and dishes and everything else in the room. They’d come a long way from living on the streets and existing on what they could beg, borrow, or steal. That way of life had its own dangers, and he couldn’t stand the thought of Tara and Kenny back out on the streets and going hungry at night. But if that’s what it took to keep them safe, so be it.

  Maybe it was time to lay all the cards on the table. He pulled a chair over close to Tara and sat down. He gently took her hands in his, and for the moment he let the skin-to-skin contact soothe them both.

  “Tara, I don’t think it’s an accident that someone has twice come to the rescue of one of our prey. The first time, I’m pretty sure the guy stumbled into that alley by chance. I had sent Kenny home, but I hung around. I went too far when feeding and was going to call for help, when this dude in black leather dragged a woman into the alley.

  “I couldn’t see what they were up to, but after a few minutes I heard sirens. They must have called the police and EMTs.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Because I didn’t want to scare you. And the guy who interrupted Kenny sounds like the same guy I saw in the alley that night. Tall, dark hair, and major scary.”

  Tara’s voice got real small. “I think there might have been a woman with him that time, too.”

  She tried to pull her hand back, but he didn’t let her. “Neither of you said anything about a woman. How come?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure. She seemed to be headed straight for me, but when I ducked around the corner and out of sight, she didn’t try to follow me. She was still window-shopping when Kenny and I got on the bus.”

  Sean closed his eyes and counted to ten, then to twenty. “She saw what bus you got on?”

  “Maybe. But we didn’t come straight here when we got off, just like you’ve always told us to do. No one followed us home.”

  Any damage had already been done, so there was no use in making Tara feel worse than she already did. “You and Kenny followed the rules. That was good thinking.”

  “But who are these people? Why would they be looking for us?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

  He’d hunt closer to home tonight. He wasn’t about to lead danger right to their door, but he wanted to end this fast. He’d take the guy out—permanently.

  “Sean, what are you thinking?”

  Sometimes her ability to read him so well was a real pain. “I’m going to find this guy and ask what he wants. That’s all.”

  She didn’t believe him. “Sean, don’t do anything stupid. We don’t know for sure it’s the same guy.”

  “And we don’t know that it isn’t.” It was time for this conversation to be over. “Look, why don’t we go for a walk? I could use some fresh air.”

  “I’ll tell Kenny where we’ll be.”

  “He can come, too, if he wants. I might even scrape up enough money for ice cream.”

  As soon as she was out of sight, he thought about the guy who was after them. As he pictured the man in his head, he realized his hands were burning. When he looked down, his blood ran cold as he held his hands up in front of his face and tried to deny what he was seeing. Blue flickers like lightning danced under his skin.

  What the hell was happening to him? What kind of weird monster had he become? The more he concentrated on the light show, the more intense it got. He touched his face with one fingertip and flinched from the heat. What was he supposed to do now?

  Tara was coming back with Kenny, chatting about what flavor of ice cream they were going to have. Sean stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. No use in scaring Tara. He was terrified enough for both of them.

  Chapter 14

  “No, I’m not going to stay here while you go out trollin
g for trouble.” Lena sipped her coffee, trying to reason with one very stubborn man.

  Sandor sat sprawled on the couch. He might have looked relaxed and unconcerned, but she knew him too well now to be fooled. He probably thought that if he acted as if his proposed outing with Ranulf Thorsen was no big deal, she’d fall for it. Fat chance. He and his buddy were going hunting for humans, plain and simple.

  Sandor obviously wanted her to hang around his house. She was welcome to sit on the deck, read a book, and drink wine coolers until he got back. He’d even offered her the use of his washer and dryer if she needed them.

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen. He just didn’t know it yet, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell him. She knew where they would be hunting. There was no law against her going for a drive in Seattle, and if her path happened to cross his, well, what a coincidence that would be.

  “What’s that look in your eye?” Sandor frowned and sat up straighter. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

  “You have your plans for the evening; I have mine. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” She picked up her car keys. “I’m going to run back to my hotel for a few things.”

  “I’m not supposed to meet Ranulf for another hour or so. I could take you.”

  “No, that’s all right.”

  He followed her outside, clearly not happy that she was leaving. “At least take a house key with you so you can let yourself back in.”

  Maybe she should resent his assumption that she had nothing better to do than wait for him, but before she could say anything, she noticed the lines of strain framing his mouth. Did he think she was walking out the door for good?

  She held her hand out for the key. “Thanks, that will simplify things.” Rising up on her toes, she gave him a quick kiss. “Stay safe.”

  As she drove off, she watched him in the rearview mirror until she turned the corner.