The pounding of hooves signaled Drake’s arrival, and Ashlyn looked up mutely, seeing the vampire riding one horse and leading another.
Skye turned to her, yanked her out of the crevice and picked her up to hand her off to Drake. Ashlyn bit back a cry of pain as she he scrambled into Drake’s lap on top of the horse. She held on tightly to her shuriken and knapsack, wrapping her other arm around the vampire to keep herself from falling off.
“I’ll lead them off,” Skye said, vaulting up onto his own horse. He yanked the reins, and the horse turned away just as the cliff behind the army began to shake from the power of Skye’s earth stane. “Get her out of here!” the blond yelled over his shoulder.
Ashlyn was too busy sobbing into Drake’s shoulder to protest, and the agony began anew when Drake spurred his horse forward and they galloped away, weaving among the tents as they headed for the forest.
It occurred to her later that under any other circumstances, straddling Drake’s lap on horseback with her chest pressed against his and her legs wrapped around his waist, especially considering her lack of decent clothing, would have been both mortifying and titillating- like a horribly wonderful nightmare come true. But at that moment, outside of the extreme pain and as the world began to spin, all she was thinking was, Please don’t let me throw up all over Drake Lockhart. I promise, Drago, if you help me out right now I will never ask for anything again.
Chapter 3
Free Will
When Ashlyn finally opened her eyes, she expected to be exhausted. After a moment, though, she blinked. She wasn’t tired at all. Her ribs weren’t hurting, either.
She inhaled tentatively, testing her limits. No pain.
Drake’s face entered her line of vision as he crouched beside her. “How do you feel?” he asked gently, his fingers resting briefly against her forehead.
“I feel…fine,” Ashlyn said, perplexed. “Can I get up?”
He offered his hand, and she took it, using her other hand to brace herself as she sat upright. Ashlyn looked down, and put a hand to her chest. There were no bandages beneath her tunic.
“You fixed my ribs with heal?” Ashlyn said, looking up at Drake in disbelief. He nodded, and Ashlyn’s jaw dropped.
“Are you serious? Do you know how hard it is to fix broken bones with magic? It’s almost impossible. The magic doesn’t pick and choose. It makes a whole big calcified mess. People are killed. They die horrible agonizing deaths from it.” She paused, and took another blessedly painless breath, hardly able to believe it.
Drake glanced down at their joined hands, looking strangely unsure of himself. “I wouldn’t have risked it if it weren’t absolutely necessary,” he said.
“But you did it!” she exclaimed, too much in awe to consider thanking him. “How did you do it? I wasn’t even going to risk it, I mean, if a broken bone had been anywhere near my heart, I can’t even imagine-“
“You may not agree with my methods,” he admitted. “It wasn’t only the heal magic.”
“Well, whatever it was-” she started to say, and stopped, realizing suddenly that he was still holding her hand.
There was a pause as they both stared at their clasped fingers, Drake’s bandaged hand rough against her palm.
After a moment, she gingerly extracted her hand from his, and rubbed her chest, fingers tingling as she tried very hard not to focus on the fact that Drake had been holding her hand of his own accord.
She never thought she’d be so grateful to not be in pain. Breaking her ribs had been the single most agonizing experience of her life, and now- thanks to Drake- she didn’t have to suffer through the excruciating healing process. “What else did you use?”
Drake crouched by her for a moment longer, then stood and walked to a pair of horses tethered to a tree, both of which were already in full tack, waiting placidly.
Ashlyn slowly climbed to her feet, expecting the usual pain that came with bumps and bruises, and was surprised when she could feel none. It occurred to her then that she was still wearing the dead soldier’s gi. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around. They were still surrounded by trees, so they hadn’t left the forest, but otherwise there was no way for her to tell their location. “Did Skye…?”
“He led them off,” Drake answered. “Most of them.”
She knew what he wasn’t saying. Ashlyn walked to the horse, leaves crunching beneath her bare feet. So they’d been attacked, and she had been unconscious through the whole thing.
Some leader.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t any help,” she muttered, reaching up to grasp the reins.
He reached up, hand covering hers, and Ashlyn’s heart leaped into her throat, her pulse accelerating as she fought to tamp down her own stupidity. Hormones, that’s all it was. Just hormones.
She lifted her chin, eyes meeting Drake’s determinedly. He’d broken her heart once already this week. She would not give him that power over her a second time.
His gaze was fierce and liquid, scarlet depths shifting as he searched her face. Whatever he saw, he gave no indication of his response, and instead nodded to the pack that was neatly tied behind the horse’s saddle. “Clothing,” he said.
Ashlyn pulled her hand from under his and quickly turned to the pack. It was a bundle of clothes and flat-soled boots that were exactly like the ones she’d destroyed while shifting- these had presumably been taken from another ninja. Well, that made sense. Drake couldn’t have anticipated her nakedness when he’d set out from Toryn. She was glad he’d managed to get another horse, too. Riding double with him had definitely been much too close for comfort.
She deftly untied the knots that held the clothes in place, noting with some delight that her shuriken and sword were secured underneath. She pulled the clothes down, clutching them to her chest. “Turn around,” she said to Drake, and he obediently walked around to the other side of the horse, facing the opposite direction as she untied the belt of her bloody tunic.
Ashlyn paused as she unfolded the pants, eyebrows knitting. Her right arm felt…strong. She held it straight out, examining it for any changes. It was the arm that had been shredded by wolves seven months ago in Landi, and she’d spent countless hours since the attack training herself to use her left arm instead. But now her right arm felt as strong as it had before the attack.
“What did you use besides heal?” she asked Drake, hopping on one foot to pull on her pants.
“What do you mean?”
“You said it wasn’t only the heal magic that fixed me. What else did you use? Something stronger?” As she tied on her new tunic, wrapping it tightly around her slim torso and securing it with a green leather belt, it occurred to her that Drake might have some stories of his own to tell, new magic that he’d discovered in the three years since she’d last seen him. Restlyn had mentioned that he owned a weapons shop, but hadn’t disclosed much else about the enigmatic vampire.
Ashlyn paused, realizing he still hadn’t answered, and walked around the horse, boots dangling from one hand. “Drake?” she said, cocking her head. “You didn’t just fix my ribs. You fixed my arm, too. How?”
He was staring at the ground, jaw clenched, perfectly still and silent. After a long moment, he looked up, and his eyes were still molten. His gaze dropped to her mouth, his lips parting, and then he looked away, and Ashlyn frowned in spite of herself.
She almost hesitated, having seen some of his moodier moments back when Lord Angelo was still alive. But she’d never before caved to his darkness, and she wasn’t about to now. Instead, she flopped down gracelessly on the ground in front of him, pulling one boot over her foot. “What’s the matter, Lockhart? Did you give me the vampire kiss of life or something? You don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. Vargo and I have already had some hot and heavy make-out sessions that were epic, I am telling you, epic. It takes more than a single smooch from a vampire to freak me out. Just consider me all grown up now.” And totally over you and your meaningful angsty silence
s, she thought but did not say. She pulled on her second boot and stood, brushing leaves off her pants.
He didn’t meet her eyes this time, but held out one hand, the hand without his glove. Ashlyn looked down at it, not comprehending. His hand was heavily bandaged, old blood seeped through to stain the gauze covering his palm.
“Vampires heal fast, right?” she said.
“Vampire blood has healing properties,” he answered quietly.
“Vampire…blood,” she repeated.
Oh.
“Oh,” she said, and frowned. “You gave me your blood? Like a transfusion?”
“Like a…drink,” he corrected her.
His obvious reluctance was aggravating. “Oh, Drake, is that what you’re beating yourself up over?” she said incredulously. “You used vampire blood to help heal my bones? I thought it was something serious, like a new magic or whatever. Geez. Freak me out, why don’t you.”
“Vampire blood can be used to overcome its drinker’s free will,” he said, and his words were clipped, like she’d somehow managed to offend him.
“Do I look like I’m in any danger of losing my free will?” Ashlyn replied, perhaps a little too snidely, spreading her arms out and turning for inspection. “Seriously, Drake. Thank you for your concern, but believe me, losing my free will is the last thing I’m worried about right now. I’d probably be more concerned about becoming a vampire, but that takes a lot more than just one drink, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “The conversion to vampirism takes weeks, even months, and requires several instances of blood-drinking.”
To cover up the way her stomach twisted at his response, Ashlyn stomped around and pulled herself up onto the horse, fuming silently for several long moments before she looked down at him again. “Are you coming? We need to find Skye.”
He paused for a moment, looking as though there was something more he wanted to say, but eventually he shook his head and swung up onto his own horse.
They rode in silence for quite some time, with Ashlyn seething quietly. Drinking blood was gross enough in itself, but it had been a necessary thing, given the situation. Yet somehow he’d made her feel dirty with his reluctance to admit to the act- almost like she wasn’t worth the effort. Knowing Drake and his ever-changing moods, she wasn’t sure whether to be offended or just chalk it up to his usual lack of manners.
“Where do you think we’ll find Skye?” she asked finally.
“He was leading them west,” Drake said. “If his plan succeeded, then he should have been able to drive them back again and escape into the forest.”
“Using the earth stane,” Ashlyn said, nodding as she remembered Skye’s uncanny skill with combat magic. During their battle with the general of the DEMON Army, Skye had save her from falling to her death by using earth. If anyone were able to escape the shift army using magic, it would have been Skye.
“He planned to circle back and head east to meet us, once he was certain he’d not been followed,” Drake continued.
Ashlyn remembered the reveal stane then, and turned to untie her shuriken from the back of the saddle. “Hang on just a sec,” she said, and flipped the shuriken over, taking a moment to admire the familiar gleam of reveal within its slots. With everything that was new and frightening, it was comforting to see that some things were still the same. After a moment, she pulled the heal stane out of her armlet and swapped it with the fire stane from the weapon. She’d had too many close calls, and she didn’t want to keep relying on shift to save her every time she lost her shuriken.
Focusing on reveal, she silently willed it to lead her to Skye. The glittering trail of orange fireflies materialized in front of her, causing her horse to toss its head in surprise at its sudden appearance.
“Reveal,” Ashlyn said when Drake gave her a questioning glance. “I…um…borrowed it?”
“Borrowed,” he said, and there was a hint of a smile around his lips.
“Yeah. Well…” She urged her horse on, following the glittering path, which was significantly less sparkly in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the branches overhead than it had been in the darkness of night.
Drake’s horse matched pace with hers as they wove their way through the trees, each watching vigilantly for any sign of Toryn ninjas.
“It was just you and Skye?” Ashlyn asked suddenly, remembering the note she’d left behind the night before.
Drake glanced over at her, clearly understanding what she was asking and seeming to consider his response. “Vargo stayed in the city,” he said at length. “The Spartans are assisting Restlyn in assuming temporary leadership of Toryn.”
Leave it to Drake to know exactly what she was thinking. Ashlyn knew she shouldn’t say anything more about it, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Was Vargo…mad?” she asked, dreading the response, but taking a perverse kind of pleasure in asking Drake for details.
Drake made a noise in his throat, almost like a growl. “No one in FLD approved of your actions, Ashlyn.”
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t want to hear lectures from him. “I knew you and Skye would come after me. Well…Skye, anyway.”
He was silent for a moment, and then said, “Only you would question my allegiance in circumstances such as this.”
“Only you would tell me you don’t feel anything after spouting off about rainbows and destiny,” she retorted, glad for a lead-in to the inevitable argument. “Do you make a habit of seducing people with pretty words and then rejecting them, or is it just me?”
He looked affronted. “I healed your wounds.”
“Oh yes, that makes it all better. Ease my suffering by letting me drink your blood. Newsflash, Lockhart, that only works on fixing broken bones, not broken hearts.”
“Did it mean nothing to you?” he snapped, wheeling his horse about and facing her. “A bond exists between us now that cannot be severed. This is not something to be taken lightly.”
“No, and nothing involving you ever is, is it?” she burst out. “That’s why we’re so horribly different, and that’s why it was dumb of me to even wonder if you could feel something for an immature brat like me! It’s never that simple with you, you can’t just let go and let things be. I’ll tell you what, Drake, I wish I’d lost my free will, because at least then I wouldn’t have to feel responsible for my stupid decisions and my stupid emotions!”
They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably just a few moments, her dark eyes boring into his red ones, the tension between them a tangible thing. Eventually Ashlyn turned away, and began to follow the path again. She urged her horse into a slow lope, letting the wind sting her eyes and whip any semblance of tears away.
As they rode and the minutes ticked by, Ashlyn’s anger began to ebb, and very soon she was feeling quite foolish over her outburst. She had left Toryn in the middle of the night, and rather than chastising her for her stupidity, Drake had come after her. He’d not only rescued her, he had also healed her, an act of magic that took far more skill and concentration than she herself possessed. It seemed awfully petty to beat him up over his lack of romantic interest in her.
Besides, you’ve already got a man interested in you, a little voice in her head whispered to her, and Ashlyn stifled a smile, her cheeks warming as she once again recalled the passionate kiss that she and Vargo had shared before she’d sneaked out of Toryn yesterday. It was hard to believe that her feelings had done such a turnaround regarding the red-haired Spartan- a man who had, three years ago, been her sworn enemy. But things had changed since Lord Angelo’s defeat. The Spartans were working for Jackson now, in support of the Free Lands Democracy. And Vargo had made no secret of his interest in her.
No, if Ashlyn was being honest with herself, in the grand scheme of things, if one had to suffer rejection at the hands of Drake Lockhart, then getting kissed senseless by Vargo immediately afterward was probably the best consolation prize anyone could ask for. She still wasn’t quite sur
e how to label her feelings for the assassin, having only just moved on from ambivalence to genuine affection, but she supposed there was plenty of time to figure that out after the war was over.
A flash of movement caught Ashlyn’s eye, and she quickly halted her horse and murmured a command to the reveal stane, extinguishing the trail of fireflies. Drake drew up beside her, staring intently in the direction that she’d seen the disturbance. The only significant hiding place was a large cluster of bushes, big enough to hide several men, but a little too obvious for Ashlyn’s taste.
“It would be very easy for Toryn ninjas to spring an attack on you right now,” a familiar voice came from behind them, and Ashlyn relaxed, recognizing Skye’s even tone.
“Not all of them are as stealthy as you are,” she said, turning to meet the swordsman’s obsidian eyes. He smirked up at her as he stepped out from behind a tree, but the jerkiness of his movements as he walked towards her belied the gesture. She could tell he was angry.
His clothes were torn. The fabric was too dark to see any stains, but there was dried blood smeared on his arms and the exposed bits of his torso. Ashlyn swallowed, a lump in her throat. She knew she had to apologize, but she wasn’t exactly eager to do so.
Skye led his horse out from behind the bushes they’d been looking at earlier, and mounted up quickly. “Your father’s army is sure to be regrouping,” he said to Ashlyn. “They’ve lost at least a quarter of their forces- perhaps more. It’s very likely that they will relocate, and even more likely that we will lose them if we don’t start tracking them now. How are you feeling?”
“Fine…thanks to Drake,” Ashlyn said quietly, and sighed. “Skye, I’m sorry. I thought if I could get in and challenge my dad, I might stop the war without any further bloodshed…” She trailed off, uncomfortably aware that this was the same speech she had given Skye when she’d run away from Cosmea. That hadn’t gone according to plan.
Frustrated, she shrugged and smiled awkwardly. “I’m not going to apologize any more. I wasn’t thinking, and…circumstances being what they were last night, I felt I had a better chance of sneaking in and challenging my dad to a Leadership Duel myself.”
The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Page 26