Dark Warrior

by Alexis Morgan

  He sensed her fear, tasted her worry, and reached out to offer comfort. Had she felt it? Maybe this was all in his head, his loneliness reacting to the first woman of his kind he'd encountered in such a long time. He closed his eyes and once again sent a burst of energy in her direction to soothe and reassure her.

  She disappeared from view, and one by one, the lights in her apartment blinked out. If she was still frightened, she would have left one burning in order to hold the shadows at bay. Satisfied that Kerry knew on some level that she was safe, he resumed his patrol.

  Dawn was but a few hours away. When Sandor returned, Ranulf would retire to Dame Judith's house. Once he was back at full strength, he would resume his hunt so Kerry and the rest of the world would be safe from Bradan Owen.

  Sandor took a sip of wine. "How was your day?" Kerry didn't even look up to answer. "Fine. I worked at home."

  Conversation had been strained between them all evening. Kerry didn't seem upset, but she was definitely distracted. This was his third attempt to draw Kerry out, so he gave up and ate the rest of his meal in silence. He'd hoped to find an opening to explain his real purpose in asking her to dinner, but that hadn't happened. If an opportunity didn't present itself later tonight, he'd have to force the issue.

  "Did you two leave room for dessert?" The waiter hovered beside the table, the check in his hand.

  "Not me, but would you like something, Kerry?" Figuring he already knew what her answer would be, Sandor reached for the check.

  She perked up a little. "We should split that."

  "Nope, my treat." He grinned at her. "You can pay our way into the dance club."

  As the waiter departed with Sandor's credit card, she said, "I wasn't aware that we were going dancing."

  "Let's just say I was hoping." He gave her his most winning smile. "Otherwise I'm stuck spending the rest of the evening in my hotel room."

  "Poor baby," she teased, but at least she was smiling. "Okay, we'll dance."

  An hour later, the two of them were firmly ensconced in the center of the dance floor. If not for the occasional worried look, Kerry appeared to be enjoying herself. And him. That was a good thing. If he hadn't been here on business, it would have been a very good thing.

  But he had learned the hard way not to mix pleasure with the business of indoctrinating a newly discovered Kyth. It had resulted in a messy entanglement that had taken a long time to get over. So while he enjoyed Kerry Logan's company, that was as far as their relationship would go.

  He was about to ask if she'd like to get a cold drink when she got a puzzled look on her face and then froze, staring at someone or something behind him. He instinctively reached for his weapon until she uttered two words that had him cursing, but relieved.

  "Ranulf Thorsen," she repeated with a frown. "What's he doing here?"

  Great. For the second night in a row the big lummox was standing on the edge of the dance floor, not even bothering to try to look inconspicuous. As if a six-foot-plus giant with flaming red hair could ever hide, anyway.

  The real question was, how was Sandor supposed to react? As far as he'd been told, he and Ranulf weren't supposed to know each other.

  "Someone you know?"

  She nodded. "He came by my apartment yesterday. He's investigating the fire." Kerry's eyes filled up with tears. "The fire investigator who helped me was murdered by the arsonist, so Ranulf wants to protect me."

  That much was true. However, it was also true that Kerry had kicked the Viking out of her apartment. So what was he doing here, interfering again?

  Sandor quickly led Kerry over to a table in the corner. "I'll go order us a drink, then I'll go talk to this guy."

  "That's all right. He's not bothering us."

  He sure as hell was bothering Sandor. If their orders had changed, he wanted to hear it from Judith. After catching the waitress's eye, he ordered two beers and then headed straight for Ranulf.

  The Viking shifted his stance, planting his feet apart and crossing his arms over his chest as if declaring he'd taken root and wouldn't move, come hell or high water. Well, they'd see about that. Sandor pulled out his phone and hit Judith's number on speed dial.

  "Yes, Sandor? I assume there's a problem if you're calling at this hour." There was enough chill in her voice to make a brass monkey nervous.

  "I'm at a club with Kerry Logan. Why is Ranulf here, too, instead of out tracking down Bradan?" He kept his voice civil, but his jaw ached from the effort it took.

  "Have you asked him that question?"

  "No, I wanted to hear it from you." He considered turning his back to Ranulf, but that smacked of cowardice. The man had to know that Sandor was talking to Judith and didn't care, which meant she had changed their orders without telling Sandor.

  "Hear what?" Her voice said she already knew the answer to that particular question but wanted him to say it.

  "That you don't trust me to do my job." And that betrayal hurt on a gut level.

  The silence on the other end of the line dragged on for several seconds. When Judith finally spoke, there was a world of weariness in her voice. "Sandor, although I knew you didn't like working with Ranulf, I also thought you'd have enough faith in my judgment to accept that his presence is needed. I've already had this argument with him after Kerry threw him out. My orders stand. I apologize for offending you. If it's any comfort, he's not happy about intruding on your part of this operation."

  "Fine. I'll talk to him and we'll decide what to tell Kerry. I assume that will be satisfactory."

  "Yes, Sandor. Divide the work as the two of you see fit and let me know your plans. But I want at least one of you watching over her at all times." She paused briefly, then added, "Tomorrow morning after breakfast will be soon enough for a report."

  "I'm sorry I woke you, Judith." She worked too hard and needed her rest.

  "That's all right, Sandor. And you're right: I should have called you myself." The phone went dead.

  He closed his cell and stuck it in his pocket. Ranulf stood staring at him, waiting for Sandor to speak first.

  "Judith thinks we can work together."

  "I take it my presence here came as a surprise. I thought she would have called."

  It wasn't exactly an apology, but it was as close as he was likely to get. For Judith's sake, Sandor pushed his simmering anger aside.

  "What did you tell Kerry about me?" Sandor responded. Damn, he hated improvising in the middle of an operation.

  "Nothing. She thinks I'm investigating the fire."

  "So what do we tell her?"

  Ranulf looked past Sandor. "I suppose the truth is out of the question. You do what you do best, and I'll tell her that in light of Cooper's murder, I was assigned the job of bodyguard for the time being. We'll just keep it a little vague about who sent me."

  "Fine. Go get yourself a beer to give me a chance to talk to her before you join us. Maybe she won't feel so overwhelmed."

  "If you think she's easily overwhelmed, you're underestimating her. Remember what she managed to accomplish the night of the fire." He met her gaze across the room and nodded. "I have the strangest feeling…"

  His words trailed off, leaving Sandor wondering what the big man had been about to say as he disappeared into the crowd. Sandor headed back to the table to tell her that the Viking was going to join them.

  Something was definitely up between the two men. Normally Kerry preferred to sit alone at a club, if she even bothered with a table. Now she found herself flanked by two men, each of whom was remarkable in his own right.

  Sandor was all sleek moves, dimples, and charm, but with a surprising amount of muscle for a man who claimed to be a computer jockey in town on an extended business trip. His eyes saw too much, constantly sweeping their surroundings. Although he pretended to only be out for a good time, she didn't buy it. The signals he was sending her were confusing, but he hadn't made any moves on her.

  If he was out to enjoy himself without entanglements, wh
y focus all his attention on just one woman? And if he wasn't interested in taking Kerry to bed, why had he acted like a jealous lover when Ranulf Thorsen had shown up?

  Speaking of which, she should be demanding an explanation from Ranulf about why he was there and how he'd found them. Instead, all she felt was relief that he was there.

  Normally she would have felt claustrophobic with two males crowding her space; right now, she felt… what? She felt soothed.

  How odd. If one of them had asked her to dance, she would have, but her usual compulsion to be out on the floor, lost in the crush of anonymous bodies, was gone.

  Ranulf shifted slightly. She was aware that when his restless gaze wasn't sweeping the room, he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. As different as he was in looks from Sandor, there were some startling similarities in the way they moved and in the way they were constantly watching and assessing their surroundings.

  She was convinced they knew each other, despite the way they'd exchanged names when Ranulf had joined them at the table. She wasn't sure why she knew that to be true; she just did.

  Acting on impulse, she announced, "I want to dance." Rather than wait to see which of them would stand to follow, she headed out onto the dance floor alone. This could be fun.

  Where was she? Bradan had been lurking outside Kerry's apartment for hours now.

  She must have gone out dancing; it was the only explanation that made sense. Pretending to be a reporter, he'd interviewed the woman whom Kerry Logan had carried out of the fire. She'd told him that thanks to Kerry's quick thinking, her injuries had turned out to be much less severe than originally feared. No shit! Without Logan's interference, the woman would have died. She should have died. And if he had a chance to go back to the hospital unobserved, she would die. It was only fair.

  But it hadn't been only Kerry's timely rescue that had saved the woman from more severe injuries. If his suspicions were right, Kerry had actually healed the woman, even if neither of them was aware of it. That particular talent was rare among the Kyth, almost to the point of extinction. The only one he'd ever met who had that power was Dame Judith.

  Maybe his suspicions were wrong, but he'd learned to trust these leaps of logic, since they'd kept him undetected among the Talions for a long, long time. He'd know for sure soon enough, once Kerry Logan realized that she belonged with him. And barring that, she would belong to him.

  But he was getting tired of waiting. Before giving up, he'd give her a few more minutes to return home. But when he got home, he'd add her inconsiderate behavior to the list of crimes she'd pay for, either with her body or her blood. Or both.

  Chapter Six

  Judith stared out the window, unable to sleep after Sandor's call. She thought back over the long centuries of her life, to when she'd first met her beloved Rolf. He'd been such a brash young man, handsome and too full of himself. Her father had tried to prevent the match, claiming her royal blood was too good for a lowly commoner, even one who'd earned a reputation as a fierce warrior. Despite her father's disapproval, she'd taken one look at Rolf and her heart had claimed him as her own.

  His strengths had complemented hers, and she'd helped tame his wilder nature, turning his energy to the protection of their people. In the end, even her father had admitted her choice for her Consort had been a wise one. Together, she and Rolf had ruled over the Kyth in this ever-changing, ever-more-dangerous world.

  Which brought her thoughts back to the present. What did Kerry think of Ranulf and Sandor? The well-being of their race might very well depend on the answer. Judith was a strong believer in fate: that when you most needed something, it would appear. For the past two centuries, she alone had held the power to transmute human energy into the ability to heal.

  It appeared that Kerry Logan might have inherited that same ability from some unknown common ancestor; Judith would know for certain when she met the woman. It would be good to have some younger shoulders help bear the burden of ruling their people.

  Not that she'd admit that to Ranulf or Sandor. She could only imagine their reactions if they thought she was playing matchmaker. A smile tugged at her mouth. Sandor would get all haughty and resentful, but he'd do his duty if Judith ordered him to court Kerry Logan. Ranulf would be more likely to tell her to kiss off, then retreat to his mountain refuge as soon as he'd hunted down Bradan and carried out Talion justice.

  She walked away from the window, feeling saddened and chilled to the bone. She had no regrets about ordering Bradan's death. The one she had regrets about was Ranulf. He'd been ordered to carry out Kyth justice far too many times, at such a cost to him. When was the last time he'd really enjoyed himself or simply laughed? There used to be a time when he'd enjoyed the company of his own kind and even that of humans, but no more. He'd withdrawn, finding what solace he could in his self-imposed isolation.

  She grasped the Thor's hammer at her throat and made a solemn vow. A surge of power tingled her fingertips as she vowed that this would be Ranulf's last job for her. As soon as it was over, she would release him from his vow of fealty. He deserved to live out his life in peace. She just hoped he wouldn't live it out alone.

  Kerry knew without looking that it was Sandor who had followed her out onto the dance floor. Disappointed, although not sure why, she deliberately chose the least populated spot on the dance floor to ensure he couldn't crowd her.

  He didn't push it, though she was aware of him watching her. Ranulf always managed to be looking somewhere else every time she turned in his direction, but he wasn't fooling her. He was on full alert, watching the crowd for any hint of trouble. If someone made a move on her, he was poised for attack. He'd already managed to scare off one potential dance partner by glaring at him so fiercely that the poor guy had fallen all over himself to get away.

  If Ranulf had been anyone else, she would have resented his interference. But the truth was, she did feel safer with him around. The arsonist hadn't made any move yet, but he could be waiting until she felt safe.

  Like he had with Cooper. Her eyes burned, stinging with the need to mourn the fire inspector's senseless death. She'd only known him a short time, but he'd gone out of his way to be kind to her and keep her safe. She shivered despite the heat of the bodies on the dance floor.

  Sandor seemed to sense her growing unease, because he shoved his way closer to her, ignoring the dirty looks of the other dancers.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, lightly touching her shoulder. "Do you want to go home?"

  She did, but she wasn't going to let fear of the arsonist dictate her life. "Not quite yet, but I'd like another drink. Bottled water would be good."

  Sandor nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

  Kerry hovered in the same spot, torn between returning to their table and staying out on the dance floor. The song was coming to an end, so she waited to see what the DJ would put on next, letting the music itself make her decision for her.

  Ranulf watched Sandor walk away from her and gritted his teeth, cursing him for leaving Kerry alone on the dance floor. Of course, he'd also been cursing Sandor for being out there with her. He knew his feelings were contradictory, but his mood had started off bad and had grown steadily worse.

  When the song changed again, Kerry swayed gently from side to side, gradually turning in his direction. He tried to avoid being caught staring, but Kerry did a quick spin and nailed him with a sharp look and a knowing smile. Busted.

  She held up her hand and beckoned him with her fingers. He pretended not to notice, which only made her look more determined. She probably thought he didn't like to dance, and she would be right about that.

  Still, he got up and headed for her. It had nothing to do with his duty to protect her, and everything to do with how it would feel to spend some time alone with her. He brushed right past Sandor, who was coming back from the bar with drinks for the three of them.

  Sandor followed right after him. "Where do you think you're going?"

  Ranu
lf kept going. "Where do you think?"

  Kerry grinned up at Ranulf in victory over coaxing him onto the dance floor. Just as he reached her side, the tempo of the music changed radically, to a slow song.

  Kerry looked up at him, her dark eyes sparkling as she dared him to retreat. Sandor was smirking, also clearly figuring that Ranulf would do that. Ranulf wasn't sure which of them was more surprised when he held out his hand and pulled Kerry into his arms.

  The second Kerry laid her delicate hand in his, a powerful surge of energy burned up his arm. She felt it, too. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at him in confusion. Realizing she had no idea how to manage her need for energy, he fought to establish enough control for the both of them. Once he had the burn tamped down, he took pleasure from the small buzz of current bouncing back and forth between them. Among their kind it was a kind of foreplay, though in their case, it would go no further than the dance floor.

  Even if Kerry didn't know what the unusual tingling meant, she was gutsy enough to charge ahead, stepping into his arms, the curves of her body fitting too well with his. Her head rested against his chest just below his shoulder, as she raised up on her toes to twine her hands around his neck.

  Ranulf leaned down slightly, filling his senses with the scent of her skin and the lemony tang of her shampoo. Despite the difference in their sizes, they fit together perfectly. As they swayed to the music, his wayward mind imagined other activities where they could test how well their bodies fit together.

  Oh, yeah—a certain part of his anatomy sat up and applauded that idea. He tried to put a little space between them, hoping she wouldn't notice, but she resisted his efforts. He then tried not to think about how warm she felt, or the sweet crush of her breasts against his chest, or the way her fingers tickled the back of his neck as she toyed with his hair.