Regret (Lady of Toryn Trilogy)

by Charity Santiago

  Ashlyn rushed out of the corridor, wielding both Kou’s knife and the shuriken. Two soldiers met her as she came out, and she spun, lashing out with both weapons. The first ninja was caught by surprise and managed a gurgle before collapsing to the floor of the cave, but the second one was quick enough to duck under the blades. Ashlyn glanced over her shoulder, seeing a third ninja just behind her, and danced backwards as the second one advanced, the puddle on the floor soaking her boots uncomfortably. She spun to the side as the third one charged from behind. She landed a swift kick to his back that sent him stumbling straight into the second soldier’s sword.

  She dropped into a crouch to avoid a barrage of tiny shuriken, and flung out her right hand, fingers splayed, using an ice spell to freeze her assailant into a very statuesque ninja-sicle before he could toss anything else in her direction. There were soldiers pouring in from outside, and Ashlyn realized with a sinking feeling that it was much too late to ice over the cave entrance, and that she was outnumbered. As in really, really, really outnumbered.

  She took a running start and launched herself at a small, jutting ledge on the cave wall, and latched on with just three fingers as she called up the lightning stane in her shuriken. Ashlyn dangled precariously, holding on for dear life as the bolt of electricity split the room, instantly delivering a not-so-pleasant jolt to the two dozen ninjas milling about in the shallow pool of water at the center of the cavern. Several of them screamed while others simply collapsed in a trembling, steaming heap of limbs, and as the magic died out, Ashlyn dropped back to the floor and delivered an uppercut to the closest soldier.

  Kou chose that moment to come stumbling out of the corridor, yelling garbled orders, and Ashlyn paused mid-maiming to look over at the man who was attempting to command his army. The right side of Kou’s face was already swelled up, and blood was dripping from his split lower lip. And- hoo boy, he looked angry.

  Ashlyn took several steps back, putting some distance between her and the confused ninjas. Her adrenaline was starting to kick in now, and though she still wasn’t quite at the stage of mindless invincibility yet, there was a plan of action formulating in her wee ninja brain.

  She yanked at the mask, tearing it so that it fell away, exposing her face. “Still determined to take control of Toryn, Devlyn?” she snapped at Kou. “Do you honestly think you can defeat the true Elder Heir? I don’t care how many soldiers you send after me. I kicked the crap out of Lord Angelo. Trouncing you to within an inch of your life is going to be a walk in the park!”

  The advancing ninjas looked uncertain, following her gaze to Kou, who was looking puffier and more aggravated by the second.

  “She’s a fraud!” Kou spat, slurring his words unattractively. “The heir is dead! The Li bloodline has run its course!”

  “Dream on, you brain-dead blood junkie!” Ashlyn yelled, and jumped aside as one particularly brave ninja attempted to stab her, dispatching him with a single slash to the torso. “I don’t care what you supposedly envisioned, I know I’m alive and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you take my birthright from me!” She pointed at Kou with the shuriken, eyes flashing. “I challenge you, Koudai Devlyn Lunai! I challenge you to a duel for leadership of the sacred pagoda!”

  “I will not duel,” Kou growled.

  “Challenge is my right, as Elder Heir. You cannot refuse!”

  “You are not the Elder Heir!” he roared, and turned to the soldiers. “What are you waiting for? Kill her!”

  Ashlyn grabbed her sleeve and yanked, hard, ripping the fabric at the shoulder. She stripped one sleeve off, and then the other, and held out her arms for inspection. “Do you see any track marks?” she demanded of the soldiers, who were fast surrounding her. “I have none. I have injected nothing. I am able to use the shift magic because the blood of the Li clan flows in my veins naturally. I am Ashlyn Li, Elder Heir of Toryn, and Devlyn cannot refuse my challenge!”

  “She cannot use shift! She is lying!”

  “I am not!” Ashlyn snapped, and the words were barely out of her mouth before Kou fell to his knees, screaming insults at her as his eyes began to glow green. His cries became more guttural and less coherent as the shape-shifting began, his lips pulling back from elongating teeth, fur sprouting from his suddenly clawed hands.

  Obviously he was done talking, and Ashlyn was almost relieved. Kicking his ass would be a welcome reprieve after having to listen to his lies.

  As she struggled to focus, the shift stane began to glow in her armlet. Then she was changing, the shuriken and her sword clattering to the floor as the beast took hold. It was fast and painless, and it was only after she’d already shifted that Ashlyn realized, somewhat regretfully, that she would be naked again upon changing back.

  Kou was still shifting when Ashlyn plowed through a small group of soldiers and leapt at him, her own transformation into a panther as smooth as glass. His face was still almost human, his body a broad and brawny mass of muscle and fur as she slammed into him from the side. Despite the force of her attack, Kou barely budged, and Ashlyn realized belatedly that he was shifting into a bear, and the size difference between them was considerable.

  She snarled and raked her claws across his shoulder, jumping aside when he delivered a half-hearted swipe in her direction. He was desperately trying to complete the shift so he could defend himself. If she had a chance, this was it.

  Ashlyn sprang onto his back and sank her teeth into his neck. Kou roared and tried to shake her off, but she held on for dear life, digging her claws in for traction. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, and ordinarily it would have been beyond gross, but turning into a panther must have given her that kind of animal instinct too, because for some reason the taste only served to make her angrier. She let go for just a second to get a better grip, trying to bite down closer to his head.

  But he took that opportunity to rumble forward, turning his shoulder and rolling, with her beneath him. It knocked the breath out of her as his crushing weight came down on top of her, and Ashlyn heard something snap, like dry, brittle twigs. Only when he rolled off and the pain assaulted her senses did she realize that it was her ribs, undeniably broken and shooting slivers of agony through her entire midsection. She could hardly breathe, but Ashlyn scrambled to her feet and backed away, noting two things- the army was now hanging back, looking both terrified and confused, and her shuriken was just a few feet away.

  The heal stane was still in her armlet, right next to shift, but she didn’t even know if she could cast regular magic as a cat, and healing broken bones was a dangerous thing to do, especially on the fly. If one of the broken ends was anywhere near her heart, and tried to mend itself…she didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

  Ashlyn breathed shallowly through her mouth, every inhale/exhale combination a stabbing pain in her chest, and made a decision. Screw her impending nakedness, magic would be far more useful against Kou right now than any additional strength that came with the shift spell. She padded sideways, silently, hackles raised as Kou circled, presumably waiting for the right moment to attack.

  When he did, she summoned her strength and leaped over him, paws dancing across the top of his head, dodging slashing teeth and claws as her injured ribs screamed bloody murder inside her head. She came down directly on top of the shuriken, and shifted back into herself, naked as the day she was born but too desperately adrenaline-driven to care. She scooped up the shuriken, her sword and her knapsack and ran for the cave entrance as the bear lumbered after her.

  She glanced over her shoulder just as he was raising a giant paw, prepared to not-so-gently separate her head from her body. She screamed the spell hoarsely, and the bear snarled and skidded to a stop, smoke pouring from his suddenly blackened paws. Ashlyn ran outside, leaves crunching beneath her bare feet, and ducked into a crevice in the cliff wall as the bear went skidding past. He caught his mistake immediately and turned, much quicker than she would have expected for such a large creature. As
he charged towards her, Ashlyn hurriedly used the ice stane to create a solid wall across the crevice’s narrow opening, putting a barrier between her and the bear, and he smashed into it with a force that shook the cliff wall against her back.

  His second charge splintered the ice, hairline cracks spiderwebbing out from the point of impact. Ashlyn quickly froze over it, thickening her makeshift barrier, but Kou kept coming. The third time he collided with the ice, he left bloody stains against it. Ashlyn shivered, then nearly cried out from the pain in her chest. If she could keep the wall up long enough, Kou would probably injure himself to the point where a few hits from the fire stane might incapacitate him. But there was no way she could take on the whole army like this.

  The bear hesitated during the fourth charge, and turned away, as though he’d been distracted by something. Ashlyn squinted, trying to see through the translucent barrier, and managed to make out a blur in black, flashing silver in the sunlight as the horse he was riding danced beneath him.

  Drake!

  In the next heartbeat, a wall of flame erupted on the other side of the ice, and her makeshift barrier melted instantly, splattering on the ground and smacking her with a wave of muddy water and dead leaves. Ashlyn was immediately drenched, and sputtered, at once pissed off and grateful for FLD’s sudden appearance.

  Skye stepped in front of the crevice, hand outstretched. “I…uh,” he said eloquently, diverting his eyes when he realized her state of undress. He ducked smoothly under the swing of a katana, his own sword making short work of the other man.

  Her teeth were chattering so hard she could barely speak. “Sh- sh- your shirt,” she managed to get out, shivering violently and wincing every time the tremors racked her broken ribs.

  The blond swordsman gave her an exasperated look as he fought off another soldier. The army was obviously much more willing to fight non-Toryns (or at least people who weren’t claiming to be the Elder Heir), but it was poor timing for bravery when anyone challenged Skye Damien.

  A soldier fell right in front of her, and Ashlyn tamped down her disgust and crouched to pull off his torn, blood-stained tunic, wrapping it around herself and tying it loosely with the green leather belt. She tried to pull his boots off, but the pain in her chest had her gasping before she could even get a good grip.

  “Drake!” Skye called, cutting down two soldiers with one cleave, then stepping back to block another one who tried to duck into the crevice with Ashlyn. He flung the soldier backward, simultaneously using a lightning stane to electrocute the ninja before the man even hit the ground.

  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.