He stopped and turned to her. “You’re going to hate me in a minute. You feel up to climbing a mountain?”
“I’m filthy, cold, and hungry. What makes you think I don’t already dislike you greatly?”
“Could you ever?” he said cheeky.
“Because you know I cannot, you take advantage of that fact.”
Juden lifted the corner of his lips. “At every opportunity I can,” he said softly.
Saxby dusted off her gown, shook off the earth and tiny twigs that clung to the cloth. She ran the back of her hand over her cheeks to cleanse the soil caked on her face. The ball of hair, no longer neatly in place, looked like frayed twine. Stray, damp strands fell and were plastered against her forehead and neck, and she swiped back behind her ears. She looked up at him, saying, “At least act like you feel contrite about it.”
“I promise when we reach safety I will be apologetic as hell.”
“Know I intend to ensure you keep your word.”
He looked at her presently ruffled and fatigued she looked edible. “I’m betting on it. Can you swim?”
Her eyes popped wide. “Aye, why do you ask?” She sounded suspicious.
“Remember I warned you were going to hate me. We have to cross the lake before we manage the hillside. The water is mostly shallow, in some areas the current is swift and the land will drop suddenly from beneath your feet. The weight of your gown will hamper you, catch and snag on floating limbs or rocks. Be careful. ” He took the quiver and secured it around his neck. “Stay close.”
Saxby pulled up the hem of her skirt, ripped the material, and tied it around her waist. She glanced at him. “Don’t forget you owe me.”
Juden merely chuckled. He would pay, repeatedly, until she died from pleasure.
Taking her hand in his he moved through the marshland in a slow trot that wouldn’t add to Saxby’s distress. He allowed her a few minutes of reprieve knowing the water would take its toll on her and he had to be sure she could manage it. Of course, he wouldn’t leave her side, not for a second, although even he had to be careful not to underestimate nature. His strategy accounted for the possibility they might encounter Maynard’s men somewhere along their path. He was ready for such, the other perils they may face in the wilderness, though not new to him, it would behoove him not to be overly cocky and misjudge the unknown.
After a while the spongy ground beneath their feet gave way to watery mush seeping into his boots, and he knew Saxby’s slippers were soaked and beyond repair, little defense against the chilly water awaiting them. He wished her more comfort, unfortunately having to flee without notice had made any manner of preparing impossible.
Juden held strong to Saxby’s hand and led them into the water. He moved over the sand bottom in a leisurely walk to give her more time to catch her breath before she had to swim or worst, fight against the undercurrent.
The sun faded and moonlight offered enough light he could easily manage their direction. Following the path of least resistance, he waded through the most shallow parts, kept closest to the bank possible, leading the way through the waist high water. When he noticed his feet dipped, Saxby slipped, he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her steady. With the abrupt fast flow of water swirling around them Juden ensured she wasn’t sucked beneath the surface. Almost there, more than mid-way to the other side of the lake the support under his feet gave way. He motioned to Saxby about what was coming, dived headfirst and broke the nippy layer into the depths. Juden burst through the surface and grabbed for Saxby seeing her failing against the small eddy churning in a circular motion before winding around the stone formation, and joined the lake pool. He pulled her through, heaved upwards, carrying her in his arms to the grassy knoll. When he reached the landing, he laid her down gently, wiped wet hair aside to study her eyes to ensure she survived.
She coughed, spit up water, and glared at him.
“The worst of it is over.” He kissed her.
Her teeth chattered. He hugged her against him to allow his warmth to seep into her body. When she stopped shivering, he helped her to stand. “Just a little more and then we can get you in some dry clothing and a seat beside a hearty fire,” he said, taking her hand. Noticing how cold her fingers were, he encircled his large palm around the delicate hand. “We can rest here a minute for you to catch your breath.” Saxby motioned for him to keep going. He hesitated, knowing she didn’t want to cause any delay. “A little respite doesn’t matter in the scheme of things.”
“No, let’s keep going. I need to move my legs to get the circulation started. If not, I may never walk again.”
Juden scooped her in his arms.
“Juden! Put me down,” she protested half-heartedly.
“Shhh…the distance is not great to the base of the hill. I will carry you, you rest, and by the time we reach the bottom, you can walk. How does that sound?”
Saxby laid her cheek against his shoulder. “Heavenly,” she said, sleepily.
Before Juden took a step, he heard her snoring.
Juden managed the terrain, careful to jostle Saxby as little as possible while she slept. He made good lead way with her nestled in his arms. She must have been exhausted, because she didn’t wake one minute as he moved through the area floating literally with the wind.
When he reached a certain point, he stopped and scanned the horizon.
Things were too quiet for his taste. Sasha and Rogue must have sensed it to, as both hounds growled low, sniffed the air, and took off in the direction of interest.
The last thing he wanted to do was wake Saxby, but hearing the faint sound of horse hooves Juden knew he had no choice. He covered Saxby’s mouth, nudged her awake, and sat her to the ground. Wide-eyed, she stared up at him, silently questioning. He raised his hand, pointed toward the worn path weaved between the brushes and disappeared. Saxby nodded she understood. Suddenly, she was alert, eyes peeled in the direction he indicated.
“How many come?” she whispered.
“From what I can tell the riders on horseback aren’t many. There are more up ahead.” He motioned to the narrow passageway entrance. Maynard positioned men behind and in front, leaving two choices, go backward and retrace their steps that lead directly into the bastards coming on horseback or ahead into the cliff walls and into a trap.
He could fly a short distance before he was forced to land. He was a variant, which meant the whole flying thing had its limitations. For him, it was more like leaps and bounds and soaring wasn’t an option.
They had to stay and face the enemy.
As if she read his mind, Saxby got the bow and arrows ready. She looked at him determined. “I have arrows enough to take out the riders. You handle the others…” She headed toward the pathway.
Juden caught her arm, pressed her back against a tree trunk, out of sight. “I’m not sure when you decided you were in charge. You are not going out there. Stay put.”
“If you want to argue about this later…fine. Right now, I know it will take both of us to handle this matter. I already proved to you I can handle myself.”
“That is not the point.”
“What is? You will feel better if you coddled me?” She sounded irritated.
“I want you to stay alive.”
“I want both of us to survive,” she challenged.
He conceded. “Don’t you dare take any chances or else.”
Saxby nodded, and then took off toward the riders coming.
The hounds returned and Juden sent the animals to watch Saxby’s back before disappearing to handle Maynard’s men, who were coming forward. The men surfaced boldly, apparently no longer worried about the element of surprise, feeling as if they had the upper hand, they came straight at him.
The men charged on foot, swords drawn, swinging in wide arcs, attacking from all sides. Juden skillfully maneuvered the pack, took two down swiftly, came to his feet and managed the rest. His movements were precise, strike for strike, he backed off Maynard’s men, and then ma
de quick work of them. When it was all over, Juden stood in the middle of bodies, searched for Maynard among the carnage. Seeing he wasn’t there, he made a hasty retreat to find Saxby.
He ran just over the ridge and came upon men charging toward Saxby with blades held high in the air. The mounts breathed fire, nostrils flared, galloping at full speed, encouraged by the men’s roar of victory, the animals bound across the earth in lightening speed.
Juden glanced at the last arrow Saxby had pointed and ready. Fuck—one arrow, three riders.
“Saxby!” he shouted. Picking up speed, he bounded over the earth, running full force toward Saxby seeing the riders split, trapping Saxby between them. She stood strong, unflinching, her last arrow wavering between the horsemen, as if she was deciding who would die first. It was obvious she intended to take at least one man down. “Get down! Move the hell out of the way!” he shouted, motioning for her to step aside. She refused. “Fuck!” Juden cursed, running like a mad man, sword poised and ready.
One rider took the lead bounding toward Saxby intent to trample her beneath pounding mount hooves.
In the face of death, Saxby stood erect, the arrow swooshed free, sounded like a brisk wind, the man clutched his chest, grunted, and toppled over.
Rogue growled when another kept coming, he sprung in the air and attacked the rider closest to Saxby. The man screamed in distress when the large canine sunk its teeth into his neck and ripped his throat open.
Seeing the massacre of his people, the third assailant turned tail to run. Juden lunged through the air, grabbed the man, and threw him hard to the ground. The man was agile, practiced as any warrior. He came quickly to his feet. He charged, slashed the small blade, back and forth at Juden, poking and prodding in a threatening gesture. “Come get some, variant curd. Meet your Maker,” he snarled.
Juden advanced on the man and blocked each blow meant to sever his neck. Then he countered, and swiftly brought the man to his demise. “I will see you in hell,” he said, spitting on the scum and walked away. Saxby stood comatose as Juden walked toward her. He brushed her cheek lightly with his thumb, and whispered. “Are you okay?” She nodded. He drew her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. He held her a moment, silently, waiting for his heartbeat to stop thundering inside his chest. The emotions throttled, he spoke. “Seeing you face those bastards scared me to death.” He exhaled slowly, releasing air. “I couldn’t breathe,” he murmured, planting a kiss on her forehead.
She looked up at him. “They will not win, Juden.”
“No, they will not.” Reluctantly, he let her go and stepped back.
“You think there are more waiting?”
Juden viewed the area around them for any signs they weren’t alone before shifting his attention. He didn’t sense any more presences except he and Saxby. “Not now, Maynard isn’t going to halt. Where we are going is safe. We’ll stay for a few days to give my men time to catch up.”
“How will they know to come or where to find us?”
“Because they are my guards,” he said, as if the statement answered all Saxby’s concerns.
“I trust you, Juden. What are our plans when your men arrive?”
He tapped her nose lightly. “My plans are to leave you protected while I go and hunt Maynard down like the animal he is. Then return to Dandelion and put an end to this fiasco.” He took her hand and led the way back up the trail toward the hilltop to solace, a place where he could finally relax knowing that Saxby was safe.
* * * *
Saxby remained quiet beside Juden while they managed the incline. After they reached the top and she saw the rickety structure leaned to one side, as if it might topple over and fall down the ravine with a good shove, she stopped, which made Juden pause.
“Is this the place?” she said, staring at the suspect building.
“I know it doesn’t look like much. Trust me.”
She turned her head to the side, affording her a better view, she studied the wooden outline of the building Juden brought her to. The weather had not been kind to the abode positioned at the highest peak of the cliff, on a patch of flat land, nestled amongst wilderness that dwarfed what appeared to be a small house. She examined the crumbling rock steps leading the way to the railed porch, thatched roofing, single paned window covered in soot from the residue of smoke puffs that filtered in the air from the chimney. A sign dangled off chains, the wording illegible, blew back and forth swaying in the wind. She could see the faint outline of a large bird, dark and nefarious, huge talons, and penetrating eyes watched.
Saxby stared at the fixated pits of the bird, feeling observed, uneasy under the blank gaze. Her eyes scrutinized the faded ink, bold black texts, beneath the symbol. She looked at Juden, saying, “The symbol closely resembles the tattoo on your back.” She motioned to the picture. “The strokes, coloring…whoever did this also created your imagine.” She squinted to get a better look. “I can’t make out the wording.”
“Enter and dwell in the belly of the beast.”
“That’s not the same as saying welcome.” She was being sarcastic.
“Nope.” Juden took her hand and led them inside.
Saxby had a grim look on her face as they crossed the threshold into the “belly of the beast,” unsure what awaited them on the other side of the door. She wasn’t worried knowing Juden would take care of her. So, why didn’t the thought ease the unsettling feeling inside her?
Chapter 46
Maynard’s men weren’t nearby, spies maybe, and could be watching to send word back they arrived at Brava’s establishment. From the outside it appeared a depilated shack. Surprisingly, inside awaited the luxuries Saxby would need for the duration of her stay.
Brava was a long time friend, a transient from Duns Laire who preferred to live in the outback of countryside that separated the Northern Territory and variant’s homeland. Offering a place for travelers, diplomats to the roughest kind, to rest, partake of his exceptional stock of liquor, decadent beauties, and a decent game of chance, dependent on one’s preference. His friend offered all the amenities of comfort, and as long as you played by Brava’s rules, he was a gracious host. If you were foolish enough to spike his ire, he showed an unapologetic dark side.
By now, the word was out Maynard gave chase, everyone inside would know who he was and why he was there. With the bounty on Saxby’s head, her identity was no longer a secret, and rumors were bound to surface and spread like wildfire. Maynard was the least of his concern. Everything was eerily quiet, not even a scurry of movement, which meant something was amiss.
Juden surveyed the area with a cautious eye, knowing friend and foe watched their arrival. A practiced reconnoiter, he quickly found what he was looking for. With two short whistle bursts, he signaled for his men to join him. Seemingly, out of nowhere, stealth as ghost, Jilst, Selwyn, Kerr, and a number of VanZandt warriors converged on the hut.
* * * *
Saxby tried not to gawk at the mammoth man moving toward them when they entered the building. Burly, thick across the chest, and a head taller than Juden and the others, with brown hair on his head and chin he looked like a grizzly. Deep-set, dark eyes assessed her with a quick glance before he turned to Juden and grabbed him in a bear hug. He pounded Juden’s back, slammed his meaty hand against brawn, and Saxby thought if Juden was a lesser man he’d go tumbling forward with the brute force in which his friend said hello.
“I’ve been hearing for weeks you were making your way here. Kept an eye out, Juden, and scum is circling the perimeter. None foolish enough to step foot inside my place.”
“Why would they with the arsenal of weapons you keep, not to mention your reputation for killing first and asking questions later.” Juden turned to Saxby. “Brava, the Lady Saxby of Dandelion.” He made introductions.
Brava was big and full of charm. His eyes softened when he smiled, and took Saxby’s hand. As eloquent as any gentlemen, he bowed gracefully, and in fluid perfect dialect he greeted
her as if she were in the King’s court.
“‘Tis nice to meet you Brava,” she said, with a slight incline of her head.
“Brava.” Juden motioned. Saxby was swaying on her feet on the brink of collapsing even though she hid her fatigue well.
“Come, this way, my friend.”
Saxby caught Juden’s silent exchange with his men. He took her elbow and followed behind Brava who made his way through the crowd, pass the curious onlookers, and down a narrow passageway to a stairwell. At the end were double doors, solid frames, iron latches, and a secure lock easily slide out of place when Brava threw the contraption back and pushed open the doors to the sanctuary.
Brava stood aside and allowed Saxby to enter. Juden leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I promised you a safe haven and a place to rest your head. ‘Tis acceptable?”
Saxby stood in awe taking in the expanse of the room, and décor bespoke of Brava’s eye for lavishness. The space was opulent in nature, rich textures, mahogany trim, plush rugs, satin coverlets, and furs on the oversized bed. A corner hearth, already full-flamed and crackling, toasty and welcoming, cast the room in a soft glow. It was all she could do not to squeal in delight seeing the double sized tub centered in front of the fireplace.
“You are pleased?” Juden said, softly.
“The thought of a hot bath…ahhh, I’m ecstatic.” She beamed. She turned to Brava. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“I would like to take credit, but this all belongs to Juden.”
“A home away from home,” he said, noncommittal.
“I will send steamy water for a bath, food, and leave you two alone to rest.
Juden waited for the door to close behind Brava. He leaned against the frame looking proud..
“I suppose you will want to confer with your men,” Saxby said, fingering the velvet runner on the table. She looked up at him. She felt her cheeks blush, his stare pointed and suggestive heated her to the core. Suddenly, overcome with a rush of emotions that simmered, made her toes tingle, and rejuvenated her like a breath of fresh air. A flagrant shimmer of warmth infused between her thighs and ignited sparks of pleasure with Juden’s seductive gaze.
Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 28