Blood Warrior

by Lindsey Piper

Then what?

  He’d have left Kavya to an abyss—the same abyss he was trying to escape.

  A surge of primal instinct said his future was bound with this woman. This was Kavya. She was still his prize, and his baser nature still wanted her. He was beginning to agree with the animal in his soul.

  —

  Kavya yelped when two strong arms grabbed her out of the chair. Tallis’s force and the rotting wood combined to splinter the chair into shards.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The old man said as much. This is me determining my fate. It involves you. I could apologize for that, but I won’t. I’m being selfish.”

  She struggled against the hard, muscled forearm that wedged between her diaphragm and lowest ribs. “What are you talking about, being selfish?”

  His mouth nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Remember what the animal wants.”

  A shiver of dread and, Dragon help her, unchecked desire was absorbed by his firm hold. “Are you about to go berserker?”

  “No. I’m as clearheaded now as I’ve ever been.”

  He pulled her into the sunlight. The heels of her slippers shredded against the wood floor of the makeshift porch. Kavya used her nails to flay small strips of skin from the backs of his hands, but nothing stopped the frightening, arousing power of his demand.

  Arousing.

  No, no, no.

  She twisted her torso and kicked her feet. “You want Pashkah to kill me, don’t you? Or maybe you don’t care. I really am some dangling piece of meat. A worm. You wanted revenge when you thought I’d infested your dreams. Turns out it wasn’t me. Instead you’ll settle your grudge on the woman who’s the best fit.”

  “You weren’t listening.” He dragged her down the alley and pushed her against the wall of a weatherworn trailer. “I may be a Pendray dressed up in an English accent with too much knowledge of the world, but I am able to multitask. That means wanting you, no matter how else I’m occupied.”

  Chandrani’s shout manifested as adrenaline-fueled fear at the front of Kavya’s skull. It was all the warning she offered. Kavya twisted, slipped, slid—onto her knees, rolling away from Tallis.

  Chandrani’s saber sliced across his shoulder. Only the thick padding of his leather coat kept his skin free of the blade’s cut. He spun and shrugged from beneath his pack. The seaxes became an extension of his limbs. He didn’t hesitate. Saber and seax clashed in a shriek of steel against steel. Chandrani ducked, parried, attacked anew.

  “Respect Kavya’s wishes or this fight will continue.”

  Sweat lined Tallis’s hairline and the back of his neck. His frown never eased. Although he held two weapons with the elegance of a man long trained in their use, he didn’t have Chandrani’s loyal determination, nor the ability to shoot spikes of pain down her spine, as she was doing to him. He hissed with each one. Her momentum edged them toward the outskirts of the small town. People had emerged from their trailers and shacks to watch.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Tallis called. “Not the way I could. You’ve seen it.”

  “You’ll never get the chance.” Chandrani’s face was a picture of concentration. She was a warrior to the core. Wielding her saber and forcing telepathic jabs into her opponent’s brain was difficult to coordinate, but she did so with great skill. “The old man begs for a lobotomy. I’ll give you one whether you want it or not.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Do you want to be torn apart?”

  Again he appeared on the verge of something other. The light in his eyes winked out. His features slackened, as if easing toward sleep. Kavya had seen that look when her brother’s blood had streaked Tallis’s mouth. How intent was he on keeping her from wearing another Mask? Would logic even matter if he skidded past a berserker’s invisible threshold? It would be like talking a wolf back from his latest kill.

  “Stop!”

  She couldn’t let them hurt each other. Chandrani, for all her determination and loyalty, would not survive this confrontation. Soon Tallis would slip beneath her ability to hurt him with telepathy. The animal was immune. Chandrani wasn’t immune to the fury Tallis could bring to bear.

  Chandrani, he’s already proven that he can hurt you. And he did worse damage to Pashkah, of all people.

  He’s bastard Pendray scum.

  I know. Kavya blinked as Chandrani’s attack lessened by slow degrees. I won’t let him ruin our plans. Please. Too many have been lost. To lose you would break my heart.

  Chandrani jumped back and lifted her saber. “I yield, you Reaper shit!”

  Tallis seemed to flip a switch. The light in his eyes returned. He sheathed his seax. “You’re done being an idiot?”

  “Not if you keep insulting me.”

  “That’s all I’ve got,” he said, picking up the other seax and slipping it into the second scabbard. “Because you fight damn well. I’d never even try if we were human.”

  Chandrani frowned and studied him. “Some new trick?”

  With a tight smile, Tallis shook his head. “We Pendray aren’t up for tricks, remember? You gave me one helluva headache back in the valley.”

  “And you the same to me.” She assessed them both. “Will you let Kavya do as she wishes?”

  “Wishes and dreams and useless optimism,” he sneered. “You’re quite the pair. Even when faced with Pashkah’s rage, you’d climb back into the hills and start again.” What began as a glance toward Kavya intensified into a full-out stare. “If you wanted to settle down with a quiet pod, I’d encourage you to walk back into that shack and accept a new Mask. They’d never know you were the Sun. You’d never remember that you weren’t Kavya. And I’d take my fight to Pashkah, Dragon damn the consequences.”

  Kavya swallowed past the dry lump in her throat. “I wouldn’t stop.”

  “Then you need every bit of the brains you have left.” He stalked toward her. Rather than touch her with what so plainly remained of his ferocity, he swept tangles of hair back from her face. The light in his eyes was magnetic now—that undeniable ocean blue. “Don’t do it, Kavya.”

  He held her face and rubbed a thumb across her lower lip.

  “Don’t do it,” he said again.

  Had he repeated it as a command, she might have kept up her resistance. Instead it sounded like an entreaty. He wasn’t begging, but it felt rather close.

  Remember what the animal wants.

  She saw it across every blindingly handsome feature. He was waiting as if his next breath depended on her reply. When had she been on the receiving end of such a plea? This man truly didn’t know her decision. She couldn’t read his mind, and he sure as hell couldn’t read hers. She’d never been at such a loss.

  “We’ll find another way,” she said softly.

  A soft exhalation rolled down his torso. “Then we need to go.”

  “Not yet.” Kavya faced Nakul’s shack.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Honoring a vow.”

  “You didn’t get the Mask. You don’t have to do that now.”

  “I’m an idealist, but I know that my battle against Pashkah will not end peacefully. Nakul’s battle is at an end. He wants to surrender. Unless you have a Dragon-forged sword hidden under that coat, I’ll help him.”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  Tallis watched as Kavya emerged from the old man’s shack. Her face was grim, her shoulders stooped. He couldn’t imagine doing what she’d just done, but maybe that’s because he couldn’t imagine taking on that responsibility. Odd. He’d taken lives in service of a higher calling, but never because a man had begged for relief.

  She trudged up a small hill that overlooked the hovel.

  “Is it done?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Kavya’s gorgeous sari was ripped and muddied. She was a fallen angel. “I stand by my commitments.”

  “I’m seeing that.”

  “I can never tell when you’re being serious or mocking me,” she said,
sitting on the cool, rocky ground beside him.

  “One-on-one verbal communication can’t be among your strong suits.”

  She didn’t argue, which was an improvement in their ability to stand each other. Then again, perhaps her thoughts were still in that shack. “I don’t agree with what I did.”

  “I didn’t think that.” He ducked his gaze toward where his fingers shredded a palm full of pine needles of their own accord. “Had I a sword, I would’ve taken off his head out of mercy. To know his body will live on for years is . . . harder to stomach.”

  Dark hair streamed over her shoulders in messy clumps. It didn’t matter. She was herself, and he enjoyed looking at her profile. He’d come to doubt almost everything else.

  “It was what he wanted. All he wanted. How many people can articulate that without doubt, and be granted their wish?”

  “Few.” Once again he regarded the city where it sat nestled along the Beas. Chandrani had taken it upon herself to find a marketplace of some kind, no matter how rudimentary, to procure provisions. “Your guard. What will she use for trade?”

  “I don’t know. It will be a testament to the value of her armor or the intimidation of her bearing.”

  “She has both in excess,” he said dryly. “You know, I’d developed the impression that the Pir Panjal were the exclusive domain of the Indranan. The Sun Cult was all I sought. To realize that humans without gifts other than ingenuity and community can also weather these harsh climes is . . .”

  “Humbling? Don’t say it. It doesn’t fit you.” She sighed, which sounded more weary than a woman should ever sound. “Are you one of those Dragon Kings who thinks us better than human beings?”

  “I’ve known too many good people to class them all as inferior. But perhaps I’ve taken aspects of their culture for granted.”

  “That’s quite a concession coming from you. Practically admitting a wrong.”

  “It’s the best I can muster, goddess.” He grinned at her perturbed glare. He’d use the epithet over and over if it meant gathering more of her rare expressions. But he sobered. Maybe part of him remained in that shack, too. “Was it difficult? What you did to Nakul?”

  The answer was etched across her soft features before she replied. “Yes.”

  “Then I’m proud of you.”

  Kavya stood abruptly. “Don’t condescend, Heretic. It’s beneath even your low opinion of me.”

  “My opinion of you is . . .”

  She stared down at him. For all his strength and the thunderstorm of his gift, he was beneath her in unnerving ways. “Is what, Tallis?”

  “Changing.”

  Chandrani climbed the slight rise. “Kavya, I brought food.”

  The women quickly embraced and continued up the slope toward a clump of evergreens. Kavya briefly looked over her shoulder—the most minute invitation. Tallis had been waiting for it.

  “He doesn’t deserve any more from us,” Chandrani said coldly.

  “He saved our lives.”

  “And put yours in danger.”

  Kavya shook her head. “I put myself in danger. What did you find?”

  Chandrani unloaded a burlap sack of crusty bread, hard cheese, fruit, a hairbrush, homemade soap, and bottles of water. “It was the best I could do with what I had.”

  With a hearty clap to the woman’s back, stronger than Tallis would’ve imagined, Kavya smiled. “Don’t apologize. This is far more than I expected.”

  They ate in silence, before each descended into town to find water for washing. Tallis’s urge to follow Kavya was strong.

  Chandrani stood overlooking the impoverished houses below. Her face was blunt, with a square jaw and a strong nose. A graceful brow was all that saved her from appearing overly masculine.

  “Will you tell me more about her?” he asked.

  “If she wishes to tell, then you’ll learn who she is.” Chandrani readjusted her scabbard and checked the position of her saber. The curving blade was so long that it reached below her knee. “But know that she keeps secrets even from me.”

  Tallis couldn’t help a rueful smile. “You’ll probably be insulted, but that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I . . .” The woman glanced around. Even in the midst of their conversation—seemingly as awkward for her as it was for him—she kept her eyes alert for trouble. They were allies paired for but a day.

  He picked up another handful of pine needles to shred. “What is it?”

  “I’m glad you stopped her from assuming another Mask.”

  “Oh?”

  “In the days after she takes on another, I hardly recognize her thoughts. Only pieces of her come through. Until she gets a handle on the new layer, she isn’t herself.” Chandrani looked down. A bowed head didn’t suit her. “I’ve feared that after another Mask . . . she might not find her way clear.”

  Tallis nodded with an expression that suited the woman’s frank admission. “Then I’m even more glad I did what I did.”

  —

  Revitalized after a good washing, Kavya wanted to squirm because of the steady attention Tallis paid her. He was infuriating—strange, uncomfortable, wholly unknown. He was speaking some other language. Not the guttural force of the Pendray’s incomprehensible words, nor her own people’s elegant tongue. He spoke with his intense expression and the temptation of his azure gaze.

  And those unnerving silences. He’d hardly said a word during their descent. She could barely keep herself from shouting, “Say something!” Anything to better understand the man who was both enemy and ally.

  So . . . she would learn to speak his language. Verbalize her thoughts. Spar with him. Try to keep up. No way was she going to be tied into knots by this man.

  “You were right,” she said plainly, standing before him.

  He crossed his arms. The leather of his coat creaked around the motion. He was intimidating, with seaxes crossed behind his back and no softness in his perfectly symmetrical, perfectly formed features. “This I must hear.”

  “Do you want to make swallowing my pride any more difficult?”

  “I want you to remember it, so it’s not so difficult next time.”

  “You expect there will be a next time?”

  “I may be confused out of my skull, but on occasion, I make the right choices and say sensible things. What did I do, goddess?”

  “Pashkah would’ve killed me had he found me alone behind the altar.”

  Chandrani made a sound of protest in her throat. “Kavya, you can’t think—”

  “I don’t mean it as an insult to you, my friend. Against what appeared to be twenty Black Guards, even you and the rest of my protective force would’ve been hard-pressed to save my life.” She nodded toward the man whose smirk had eased into a wary sort of appreciation. “Tallis managed. And he reinforced your fears about my rash intention to wear another Mask. I don’t want to hide again. Pashkah will always come for me.” Feeling more put-together after the cold sponge bath, she straightened her spine. “I can’t lead anyone if I’m running from him.”

  “You sound different, Kavya,” Chandrani said softly. “What is it?”

  “He’s been a twenty-year boogeyman with the power to kill me. Many people might want to kill me, including those I never suspected.” She quirked a smile toward Tallis. “So why make decisions based on fear? I need to take the offensive.”

  “Are you giving up on our goals of peace? Kavya, you can’t.”

  “No, but I won’t be caught out like that again. I must protect myself before I consider bringing others with me. They . . .” She swallowed so hard that tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “They trusted me, and that I knew what I was doing. I didn’t know. Pashkah could’ve been anyone—one of the human cartels, or gangsters from the North or South who benefit from our continued feud. The longer we fight, the better the trade in Masks and other so-called remedies for our gift.” She met Tallis’s eyes with what felt like a dare. Why did she care what he thought of he
r plans? Or her deep regret? If anything, she should be hiding her plans from him. “I’m not stopping what must be done on behalf of the Indranan.”

  A twist of emotion shaped his mouth, which was a restrained reaction coming from him. Such a finely shaped pair of masculine lips. She’d felt that soft, damp skin against hers and wanted more. Rational thought didn’t change what her body craved. And she’d be lying if she thought it was merely physical. Held in Tallis’s embrace, her worries had melted like ice in the spring.

  “Don’t look at me, goddess. I’m not one of your true believers. I have plans of my own. If they conflict with yours, then we should move on.”

  “I tried that after escaping the valley. You came back.”

  His smirk flashed. She was coming to like its appearances. That meant she’d caught him by surprise.

  Yet a task harder than dealing with Tallis still remained.

  She turned to Chandrani and took hold of the woman’s upper arms. “I have a favor to ask, my dear friend.”

  “Again, you sound different. That old Masquerade didn’t do something to you, did he?”

  “No,” Kavya said firmly. “Come see.”

  She invited Chandrani into her mind. They shared old memories. Good memories. The memories both trusted as genuine. Even painful recollections held truth—perhaps more than those of laughter. Any Mask could falsify happy impressions: sunshine, a child’s smile, the hand of a friend entwined with one’s own. But what Masquerade was skilled enough to create terrors and heartaches that felt undeniably real? Those were particular to the soul’s darkest places.

  So she gave Chandrani their first night together in Delhi, and she offered the tears they’d shared after Kavya had killed Chandrani’s sister, Leela. It had been the only way to keep Leela from taking what didn’t belong to her. Chandrani’s gift. Chandrani’s life.

  “I need you to go,” Kavya said, voice rough. “Go home to your pod. Marry Nirijhar. He’s been as faithful to you as you’ve been to me. Time to honor your promise.”

  Chandrani shook her head. “He would understand. He knows I need to protect you.”

  “No.” Kavya firmed her voice. She’d rarely used her gift against Chandrani—only with her, to exchange information and comfort. But she did so now, adding mental persuasion to her words. “You need to stay here. We’re from the North. Our people may listen.” She concentrated harder. “Marry Nirijhar and indulge in the reward of his comfort. Talk among those who’ll listen. Tell them about Pashkah and how I’m not giving up. Those who will listen will also be those who talk. They’ll pass on what they’ve heard. Peace needs to come from the people or it will never stick. Our hopes cannot hinge on what might appear to be the dogma of a single woman.”