Tallis frowned and shook his head while adjusting the straps of his new scabbards. They didn’t cross over his back but hung off a simple leather belt. “I just thought it a shame that you had to trade your ring.”
Her blood slowed. She became honey, all sticky, rich sweetness and the unlimited energy that came with it. “It’s just another piece of jewelry.”
But she knew differently, as his gaze intensified. His pupils were small and sharp under the sunlight, which only accentuated the dark blue magnetism of his irises. “Show me your stomach.”
Kavya shivered, but she didn’t protest. She wanted him to see her body, preferably after they’d had the chance to freshen up.
Only seconds passed before Tallis helped unwind the center swath of her sari. His hands were insistent—not educated in the intricate wrapping of her people’s garments, but determined. Folds parted. Layers opened. He probably wasn’t above ripping the cloth if he couldn’t find a polite way inside, and he could do the same to her untested body. She looked skyward, eyes closed, and swallowed. His fingers found her skin. She laced her hands over the backs of his as he rubbed his thumb around her navel.
He bowed his head, watching where he touched. Enraptured. She knew, because she was, too. “I liked kissing you here,” he said. “While you were adorned.”
Kavya caressed up his arms. All that strength and a leashed anticipation was hers. She tunneled her fingertips into his silver-tipped hair. “Me on my own isn’t good enough for you, Pendray?”
“Bathatéi.”
“That’s better.” She cupped his jaw, then his cheeks. She missed touching him that way. She missed being able to feel the twitch of thoughts when they fluttered beneath her palms. “If we’re going to share a bed, we’re doing so with you feeling absolutely blessed to lie next to me. Jewelry or not.”
He offered a chagrined smile that made his expression into the perfect personification of Tallis: cynically good-humored, a little baffled by the world, yet willing to learn more about the mysteries he hadn’t yet solved. For all his wandering and anger, he still seemed genuinely curious about life and accepting of new adventures. He didn’t like the unknown—who did?—yet he sought new experiences with an intensity that suggested he’d be bored with anything less.
“And you, goddess? What will you feel lying next to me?”
She couldn’t breathe, not when he stood to his full, impressive height and stared at her with predatory intensity. She wasn’t his enemy, but she did feel like his prey. “I’ll be scared.”
“You don’t show it often. Being scared.”
“And I won’t tonight either. That doesn’t mean it won’t be true.”
Kavya readjusted her sari. She was speaking the most suggestive, honestly sexual words she’d ever uttered to the man who would take what she’d given no man. The urge to be beautiful for him was becoming an imperative, like eating and breathing.
And why not? Sex was just as elemental.
She took a deep breath. “Hand over the money.”
“You think I can’t haggle?”
“You don’t know how to haggle here, in possibly eight languages. And there are Dragon Kings.”
“Indranan?”
“Of course.”
“Why haven’t we been jumped and beheaded?”
“The ones in hiding don’t want to be found. They live in a metropolis for a reason. Make their living. Stay clear of their siblings. Live to see the next day. Some might be lucky enough to live happily in a pod.” She threaded her arm through his. “Think of it this way. Have you ever been in a bar when you could feel the tension? Where under the surface, a brawl was waiting to touch off?”
“Better to ignore it. Keep drinking and talking.”
“That’s what it feels like here. Indranan keeping their heads down. If you feel that little tickle of awareness, Northern or Southern, you ignore it and move on.”
I’m coming for you, sister.
The words were a memory, not an immediate threat. But he was on his way. He wouldn’t stop. That constant awareness made Kavya more reckless with Tallis than she might have otherwise behaved. Events had moved between them at four times the normal speed, all because she dreaded the next day, the next hour. As long as Pashkah lived, she would carry that fear—and she would try to stay with Tallis.
And after . . .? If she was lucky enough and prepared enough and strong enough to take Pashkah down, would she and Tallis part ways?
Why wouldn’t they?
The next stall sold clothing, which gave Kavya a much-needed means of avoiding thorny topics. “This one,” she said bluntly to the stall owner. The sari was plain cotton, dyed blue, with few embellishments. It bore a striking similarity to the maroon one Tallis had stolen. She still wore it, but it had suffered the rigors of the day. Even a simple change of clothes would make her feel like a new woman.
“And this one.” Tallis held up his choice.
She froze.
No. Not that one.
She wanted to tell him the truth, but it was too terrifying. What he’d chosen was the style of garment a woman wore when she was ready to commit fratricide. When she was ready to claim the other half of her Dragon-given gift. How could she explain the significance of an outfit that blended seamlessly with the market stall’s other vibrant wares?
I can’t buy that, Tallis, she’d have to say. It would set the future in stone. I would be obligated to kill Pashkah. I would take his mind into mine. I would go really, truly mad—beyond logic or redemption.
I would lose you.
Instead she forced a harsh laugh and turned back to her simpler choice. “That’s practically a costume. Better suited for belly dancers.”
“So? You already know I’ve thought about your belly. If you aren’t going to wear jewelry there, the least you can do is give me an unobstructed view.”
“You and everyone else.”
He slunk closer, his shoulders curved around hers—the slightest intimidation, as if he could cage her with just his stance. Maybe it was true, because she didn’t move.
“What’s the matter, goddess? Afraid of showing off who you really are?” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles.
Kavya worked to hide a shiver that had nothing to do with Tallis’s touch.
Who I really am.
“And to think I couldn’t read you at all,” he said, smiling. “Now it’s like rereading a book. You want it, too.”
Kavya eyed the outfit, chilled by the double meaning to his words. The two-piece sari had a bodice of amethyst silk that shimmered in the waning sun, with an underlayer of deep purple velvet. The skirt would hang low on her hips, where two bronze medallions adorned with more flowing purple and layers of brocade in shades of gold, orange, and red. The scarf was of the same graceful amethyst, with the barest fringe of gold trim. The colors should’ve been garish together. Tallis couldn’t imagine how those colors and that cut of fabric called to her in primitive ways.
“Haggle away,” he said in the common tongue of the Dragon Kings. “But we’re getting this, too.”
He stood near enough that she could see the tick of his pulse along his neck and at his temple. He had a wild gleam in his eye. The gleam spoke of something deeper than haggling and the marketplace. Perhaps some part of his gift? The berserker side? She couldn’t tell, because he was also simply . . . Tallis. A man. A Dragon King.
Yes—a living god.
They didn’t need telepathy after spending days reading each other’s every movement, watching for clues, depending on each other. That was as frightening as the ornamental bronze medallions she stroked with her thumb.
“Yes,” she said quietly “We’re getting this, too.”
He moved behind her and curled warm, broad palms on her shoulders. “You’ll be beautiful wearing this, Kavya. I’ll be proud to stand by your side when you do.”
—
They finished shopping, during which Kavya had concluded the long-winded process of ha
ggling for every item. She and the vendors spoke so quickly in some local tongue, maybe Hindi. Tallis hadn’t been able to keep up. That she came away with a nod and a small smile told him of her satisfaction with an exchange. That he’d walked away from each encounter with a few extras tucked in his pack—old habits died hard.
The process was repeated at a few stalls containing foodstuffs and hand-milled soaps. They even found him a relatively new leather jacket, this one lightweight yet durable. He might actually feel like a man again, rather than a wild animal that had crawled down from the mountains. Those weren’t his mountains, and the animal was firmly set on its target. He would have Kavya alone.
In that hotel.
“We’re out of money,” she said. “We can’t afford to stay there.”
“We can’t afford to, but we’re staying.”
He took her hand and practically dragged her to the back of the building. An ancient fire escape was an obvious choice for breaking in, but he eyed the metal. It was rusted and pitted with holes at the hinges. Either it wouldn’t hold them, or it would make hell’s own noise as he pulled down the bottom set of steps. Yet as a man who’d spent twenty years without a home, he wasn’t out of options. He liked to think he never was, but he glanced back at Kavya and knew better. She was another wild mountain creature, blazing with fire and an unknowable darkness that had overtaken her in the market.
She was alive with a vitality he wanted to suck into his bones. His bones felt old.
A thought that felt ancient jumped to the forefront of his mind. He’d fallen in love with the vision in his dream. How could he not? Whoever had been invading his mind for the last twenty years knew triggers to elicit that response. Kavya was different. She was stubborn and sometimes too naive for her own good, just as she was brilliant and so optimistic that he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. She was a genuine person, with all of the complexities of a sentient being. Her perseverance was a magnet, drawing him closer, becoming the true north he’d thought altered beyond rediscovery. Apparently he was standing in a city called Jaipur, somewhere in India, but he didn’t feel lost.
Reconciling his difference in feeling between his dreams of the Sun and Kavya . . . it was a useless exercise. One had been uncomplicated and fake, while what he was beginning to feel for Kavya was very complicated.
“This way,” he said gruffly, shoving aside thought in favor of action. It was always better that way.
She was obviously reluctant, but took a deep breath and followed. Only her eyes shot sparks of warning.
Tallis searched the base of the building until he found a service door. It was partially hidden, probably intentionally, behind a large round metal canister of rubbish and abandoned junk. It was as rusted as the fire escape. The monsoon season must wreak havoc on everything.
“In we go,” he said.
“You and what crowbar?” Her expression was dubious, with a hint of the quality he kept mocking her about—a goddess reluctant to stoop. Considering what they’d endured over the last few days, he was happy to see her disdain alive in force. She still maintained a touch of stuck-up arrogance that said she was in charge. That she wasn’t at all times didn’t matter. The attitude suited her a lot better than making choices based on fear.
He couldn’t afford her panic. Not only did he need her to help out with his visions, he wanted more. More than sex. More than he could picture, let alone name.
“Do you think this is my first time sneaking in? Have a little faith.”
“Said the heretic to the goddess.”
Grinning, he knelt by the small service door and dug away the refuse and dirt that suggested the little entry was practically forgotten. “Hand me the pack.”
Although she remained obviously dubious—which was beginning to irk Tallis—she tossed him the roughed-up knapsack. It was in sorry need of a wash. From it he withdrew a small metal case that contained tiny tools. The lock on the door was rusted, almost impossible to open, but he managed after twenty minutes of patient prodding. He’d never encountered a lock he couldn’t pick, nor a hotel he couldn’t shimmy into for a solid night’s rest. In bigger places, he found it useful to walk in at midday, make his way to the employees’ areas, and begin working. No one looked twice. A pilfered key or security card meant open access to any of the rooms he found empty after dark, when few additional guests would check in.
This place was large enough to remain anonymous, but with probably twenty rooms. They would be noticed if they weren’t careful. The advantage was less technologically advanced security.
Such as an unattended service door.
He shoved his foot against the door when it wouldn’t budge by hand. A massive creak and the scattering of some internal debris gave him pause. He waited a moment. Then he was inside, feet first, stomach toward the inner wall. He lowered himself using the strength of his arms and the toes of his boots. Kavya threw down the pack without the need for prompting, before repeating his backward entrance. Only, she wasn’t as strong.
Tallis wedged his fingers in the fold between her thigh and the curve of her ass. “Let go. Push away from the wall.”
Kavya paused a few seconds. “Right.”
Using her hands and the momentum of her fall, she propelled backward. Tallis caught her with his arms under her knees and across her upper back. “That wasn’t so hard.”
She shook her head. “You have a funny sense of perspective on things like that.”
“It must be funny.” He set her gently down, but she winced when her soles touched the pitted concrete floor. “Because you’re smiling.”
“Are all Pendray a little touched in the head?”
Tallis shrugged. “It’s been a little while since I’ve been back. Who knows what twenty years will do to a people. Probably not as much as I fear. Besides, none of us are as bat-shit as your people.”
Rather than take offense, Kavya chuckled quietly. “Can’t really argue there. Where to?”
They poked around the underground storage until they found a hose and utility sink. “This will have to do.”
“Oh no. Not again.”
“We can’t be too picky. If we go upstairs looking like vagabonds, they’ll throw us out on the street. Trust me.”
“You’ve looked like a vagabond before, Tallis? Don’t disillusion me.”
“You don’t know—”
Another huffing laugh revealed her sarcasm, which made him feel a fool for getting his back up so easily, and equally impressed that she’d accumulated a quick knack for his quiet humor.
She pointed to a plain door on the far side of the tight, moldy basement. Some writing adorned it. “The laundry,” she said with a note of triumph.
They were inside with the door shut and locked within seconds. Again, Tallis felt an off sense of having reluctantly met his match and satisfaction at having done so. He’d been on his own so long.
The laundry was barely functional, but at least its utility sink offered warm water. He began to strip.
“What, no tease this time?” Kavya was watching him, her pale brown eyes avaricious.
“You think I have the energy to try seducing you again, goddess?”
“No energy?” She made a noise as if contemplating the situation. “You seemed rather . . . vigorous in the cornfield.”
Leaving him stunned and likely marked for life, Tallis watched as Kavya unwound the maroon cloth of her sari and unfastened the bodice, all without ceremony.
She stood naked before him.
After what he’d dreamed and what he’d already discovered of her flesh, he was revealed as a fool for thinking he knew what to expect. Not even close. Unnerving visions and real life had never diverged so sharply.
She was thin with fine, long bones. Breasts that would fill his hands with bountiful flesh to spare were perfectly formed. Her nipples beaded beneath his riveted gaze. The muscles of her stomach were lightly defined, as were the curves of her legs. Walking had made her into a woman of refine
d grace and strength, but with softly rounded shoulders and flaring hips that made him eager to learn more about the texture of her coppery skin. His mouth watered when his attention alit on the small thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.
On top of his desire was layered his greater impulse, his true imperative: he would make her first time one she never regretted. Kavya of Indranan would know what it was to be revered not as a goddess, but as the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Kavya had never stood naked before a man until that moment, when Tallis of Pendray consumed her with eyes darkened by hunger. He might consume her with his mouth and claim her with his body, but his eyes promised it would never be enough.
Promised?
Threatened?
She didn’t care.
On the inside she was trembling with anticipation and a touch of fear, but she stood before him calm and still and proud. She had borrowed too many images from other minds to doubt that she aroused men. That she aroused and had even satisfied this man gave her confidence. She felt hot to the touch, although her skin was pebbled with goose bumps in that small, enclosed laundry room.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice rough and primal.
Her body was on instant alert—not in preparation for a fight, or to muster the strength of calm to inspire her followers—but because she knew the next few moments would change her forever. “Not until I wash.”
She flipped on the tap and, because there was no plug for the drain, she shoved her maroon sari to the bottom. Hot water soon filled the sink. He leaned heavily against the wall beside the sink, soaking in her every movement. She retrieved the bar of soap from their possessions and lathered it beneath the streaming faucet. The scent of sandalwood filled her nostrils and set off her imagination. She wondered how the notes of that fragrance would change when layered with the musk of Tallis’s clean skin.
The process of washing was simple yet luxurious. She lathered and rinsed, then bent over the filled sink to wash her hair. Tallis kept his hands tucked behind his lower back. His expression was turning. Changing. He was turning. There was little left of the thinking man she had come to know. The beast inside him was taking over—with sex in mind, not violence, although, the two seemed inexorably linked among the Pendray.
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