The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Amara looked back and forth between Ryker and me. “He can’t feed himself?”

  “No,” both Ryker and I said at once, connecting our eyes in a recollection. Sprig could feed himself, but we would need to cover the restaurant in plastic first.

  I pointed my fork at Ryker. “I still have honey in my bag from the time you let him eat in it.”

  Ryker snickered, nodding.

  “You lied. It never washed out.”

  The side of Ryker’s mouth hooked up, his attention on Sprig as he supplied him with more honey-covered dough.

  Again Amara’s head bobbed between the two of us. A nerve twitched across her forehead. She bit on a pepper and swallowed.

  As I shoved more food down my throat, Sprig blinked. His eyes no longer fixed on the food or the plate. “He’s goin’ down.” I motioned to my bag. Ryker dipped his napkin in his water and cleaned off Sprig’s mouth, hands, and anywhere else the honey had dripped. Sprig’s head was already tilting back and his mouth was open when Ryker tucked him inside the bag.

  My stomach knotted watching Ryker take care of Sprig. I bit down on my tongue so the crazy emotions I was feeling wouldn’t come to the surface.

  “We ready?” Croygen threw his napkin on his plate.

  Ryker looped the strap over his head and stood. “Yeah. And thanks for paying.”

  “What?” Croygen responded.

  “Consider it rent for staying with us.” Ryker slapped Croygen on the shoulder and advanced to the door.

  “Tell her to add it to our tab.” I patted Croygen’s other shoulder and got to my feet, following Ryker.

  My next visit to Seattle would entail a visit to the bank

  .

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Rain hit the dirt in large droplets, soaking my boots with mucky water. The wind whipped at my loose, fading violet strands, flicking them into my face.

  Ryker walked out to the middle of the open space. “Zoey, over here.” Ryker pointed in front of him. He had taken us outside the village to a semi-flat space in a meadow where we could work without being seen by humans. He returned Sprig to the room, along with our babysitters, soap operas and honey papayas, and grabbed a few things before bringing us here.

  I walked over, tying my hair in a ponytail.

  “I know you can fight with your fists, but it lets your enemy too close. Today, I want you to work with a broadsword. They are the most used weapon in the fae world.” Ryker withdrew a sword from his back, where his axe and other weapons were located, and held it out for me. “They are heavy, and you will have to learn to handle its weight.”

  When my fingers clasped the handle, taking it from Ryker, my arm dipped with the weight of the metal. No wonder fae were toned. Damn. Widening my stance and heaving up the blade, I gripped it.

  A howl of laughter bellowed from Croygen. “She looks like she’s ready to club someone with it, not stab.”

  I struck my tongue out at Croygen.

  “Relax your shoulders.” Ryker nodded toward them. “And loosen your grip.”

  “Loosen my grip?” The sword was already slipping out of my fingers.

  “Your legs are too far apart.” Ryker’s boots nudged at mine, pushing them together. “Your hips are too far back. Now your legs are too close to each other.”

  I let the steel drop to the ground, and I stepped back in irritation. “Sorry. I never took sword lessons. Shooting you guys was a lot quicker.”

  Ryker’s lids tapered and he glanced at the sky. “Amara?”

  She came over as Ryker took out another sword from his halter, thinner and lighter looking. The handle was ornate and delicate. “My blade!” Amara grabbed for the weapon, a smile growing on her face. “I didn’t know you still had it.”

  “Had it since the night—” Ryker stopped. We all knew the night he was talking about. The night when everything changed.

  Amara nodded in understanding. “Thank you for keeping it with you.”

  Ryker gave her a brisk nod and turned back to me. “Can you show her the stance?”

  Amara’s face glowed with delight, rejoicing in the fact she was the one Ryker needed at the moment. She pulled her damp hair into a perfect messy bun. Her skinny black jeans were beyond tight, and a loose tank top showed off her bra every time she moved. It was like standing next to a supermodel who was trying to be grungy, but it only rendered her sexier.

  She completed a plié while lifting her sword in an elegant but firm grip.

  “Like her.” Ryker pointed at Amara, causing her face to beam more with the praise.

  I rolled my eyes but tried to copy her posture. A chuckle from Croygen told me I was still far from mimicking Amara.

  “No.” Ryker shook his head and moved around me. “You’re still sticking out your ass.” His hands came down on my hips, brushing the exposed skin between my tank top and cargo pants. I gasped, as though his fingers went straight through my body into my lungs, squeezing the air from them. Fire zipped up the nerves where he touched me. He twisted my hips, pressing himself tighter into me. “Keep them forward.” His voice was hot against my neck. There was a moment I felt his fingers move below my pants line, softly brushing the skin, before he was gone. I swallowed, trying to keep at least the pretense I was listening or aware of anything other than his touch.

  “Croygen, can you come on the other side and show her basic moves?”

  A strange glint shown in Croygen’s eyes as he moved in front of me. “Sure thing.” A secretive smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  For the next four hours, in the pouring rain, I was drilled, yelled at, and tortured. But because of all my other training through Daniel, I was actually learning things faster than I thought. “So when are we going to get to the part where I jump my ass home and into the bath?”

  “You need to know the basics of fighting before we get to the jumping.” Ryker wiped at the sweat and water on his forehead.

  “And you definitely are horrendous at the fighting part.” Amara frowned, stabbing her sword into the wet earth, letting it stand on its own. “I think the monkey could do better than you.”

  Every hair up the back of my neck felt like it was brushed the wrong way. “As bad as I am, I bet I can still kick your ass.” During the years of others jeering me and trying to provoke me, I had never fallen for it. It was what made me such a great fighter. That was until I met Amara.

  Her eyebrows cocked in surprise before a defiant smile curled her mouth. “I’ll take that bet.”

  “Oh no.” Ryker stepped between us. “Absolutely not.”

  “What’s wrong, Ryker, are you afraid your human is going to get hurt?” Amara stepped closer. “At one time you were the one wanting to fight the humans. Even kill them. But now little Zoey has made you all fluffy inside.”

  His jaw clicked.

  I licked at the rain falling on my lips, feeling the fire in my belly to fight. “Come on, let’s see if you can back up your words, because so far I’ve only seen someone get the drop on you, while you cried like a little damsel, and Ryker did all the fighting.”

  Amara’s brown eyes flared. Taking the bait, she dislodged her blade from the dirt.

  “Oh, I got Xena the Warrior Princess all flustered.” I winked at her then turned to Ryker.

  “Zoey, stop.” Ryker grabbed my arms, pushing me back. “Both of you. Stop.” When neither of us looked like we wanted to back off, Ryker yelled at Croygen. “Hey, you could help out here.”

  Croygen folded his arms, shaking his head. “No fucking way. This is hot.”

  “Let her go, Ryker. Think your human needs to be put in her place. You’re not always going to be around to protect her substantial ass,” Amara snapped.

  Ryker glared at Amara over his shoulder.

  “I’m shocked your boney one can hold such a massive stick up there.” The fervor building in me rubbed at my muscles. My mouth salivated at the thought of my fist messing her perfect face. Something it wanted to do since the moment I saw
her.

  Ryker’s hands clenched my wrists firmer, walking me away from Amara.

  I tried to wiggle free. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

  Ryker’s white eyes latched on to me. He watched me for a moment before he let his hands drop and stepped back.

  This fight had been coming for a while. It was bound to happen at some point, and we all knew it. And we could all pretend it was about the human/fae thing, but it wasn’t. Not mainly. This was about Ryker.

  It stung my pride to think I could fight over such a petty thing—a man. But as a street kid, you had little, you battled for anything belonging to you, or what you wanted to belong to you. In my gut Ryker was mine. Ownership over a person was wrong. I understood this, but it didn’t take away the basic feeling.

  Amara swung her sword, barely giving me a moment to respond. We circled each other and crouched low like cheetahs hunting dinner. As I blocked it, she shifted the opposite way, moving in close, and elbowing me in the face. Warm liquid slipped from my nose. The taste of tangy metal coated my mouth.

  Bitch.

  The anger in me was roaring. I needed to pummel her. The image of me ramming her face into the mud over and over flashed in my head.

  Jump, Zoey.

  I did... but not at all near her. I stood yards away on the other side of the field.

  “Why the hell did you jump way over there?” Croygen hollered over.

  Amara swiveled around, sneering at me. “Come on, Zoey. Are you ready to quit so soon?”

  I gritted my teeth and jumped back. The sensation didn’t inflict dizziness or require too much concentration like it had before. It simply happened when I wanted. When I had intent to move, the powers were completely mine. But where I landed seemed to be the problem. Once again I arrived yards away from my target. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ryker pinch his nose and shake his head.

  “Try again.”

  I jumped next to Ryker. I huffed, my nails digging into my palms. This was embarrassing.

  A burst of laughter came from Amara. She bent over, one hand holding her stomach, the other let the sword drop to her side. I didn’t hesitate to take advantage. I barreled forward and slammed into her, taking her to the ground. Her sword went flying, sinking into the murk.

  She got on her hands and knees, grappling for her sword. My foot squashed down on her hand before she reached it. She let out a cry and swiped for me. I moved over her, my feet straddling either side of her rib cage. Amara rotated her arm, grabbed my ankle, and tugged me down. I stumbled to the side. She rolled out from underneath me and popped up. Mud coated her from her neck down. Speckles of mud spotted her nose like freckles, but she still looked gorgeous, like a cover shoot in a jungle.

  What the hell? She can’t even look bad in a fight?

  With a grunt, she ran for me. The force she used to collide into me sent both of us back to the sludge in the field. She climbed on me, and her fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing down. She mumbled in my ear, “Whatever is going on between you and Ryker ends now. This is your last warning.”

  I grabbed her fingers, trying to bend them back. “Ditto.”

  Jump. This time when I opened my eyes, I was across the field but so was Amara. Her fingers still wrapped around my throat. A wicked smile coiled the corners of her mouth. “Didn’t you know? If you are touching someone, they come with you.”

  I felt dumb because this should have been obvious. Ryker and Sprig always jumped with me, if I were touching them. But in the moment I believed I could jump away from her.

  Stupid.

  Embarrassment transformed into fury. The roar in me filled every place that felt pain, loneliness, and fear. The buzzing in my ears turned out to be shouting I heard beside me. The dark part of me, the one who would kill if need be, was taking over. I was sick of playing by someone else’s rules.

  My fist hit her nose, then her cheekbone. I could feel the crunch of my knuckles, but nothing more. She fell off me and I got to my feet, ready to pounce.

  “Zoey. Stop.” Ryker’s voice moved in close behind me.

  I lurched for the woman on the ground.

  A large hand darted in, cupping my hand, before I could hit Amara again. Then my body was lifted and dragged away. The arms held me tightly. A steady heart beat against my shoulder blade.

  “Calm down,” Ryker whispered in my ear. His warm breath curled around my ear and down my throat. The feel of him pressed against me. All of him.

  “No,” I muttered. I wanted to fight against him, to protect my heart. Stop the way his heartbeat and body could still me.

  He kept his arms wrapped around me, my chest heaving with hatred and adrenaline.

  Croygen moved over to Amara, helping her up. Her lashes stayed low, glaring at me. Blood leaked from her mouth and her cheek swelled up, already hinting at the bruised bone underneath. Anger stiffened her frame, but she didn’t move to come after me.

  “Can I say how hot that was?” Croygen pointed to both of us. “Especially the rolling on the ground in the mud.”

  Ryker’s arms dropped, and he stepped away from me. I turned to see him and stopped in my tracks. Fury expanded over his face, his shoulders rolled up as the wrath moved down his body, reaching his clenched fists. Foreign words I didn’t recognize rumbled under his breath.

  Uh-oh. Viking was pissed.

  He swung away, his hand rubbing his stubble.

  “Why are you mad? You wanted us to fight! And I kicked her ass!” I spit mud from my mouth, laced with my own blood.

  He whirled around on me. For some reason seeing him like a bull ready to charge plunked me down to earth, fast.

  “Because you can’t fight fae with your fists,” he growled. “And you have no control over my... your powers. You will lose in a fight. And you will die.”

  “Then you kill me first,” I screamed back. “Problem solved.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Do it! Stop whining and act. End all this bullshit now.”

  He stared at me; fury raged behind his eyes. He let his head fall back, splatters of rain bounced off his forehead. “Fuck,” he shouted into the sky. Without another word he spun around, stomping away from us.

  “Ryker, wait!” Amara ran after him. I stood in place, watching them walk off together.

  “You got some balls challenging him like that.” Croygen sidled up to me, nodding after Ryker. “Most fae warriors I know wouldn’t even do that... except you seemed to have a power over him no one else does.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He grinned, peering at me. “I’m impressed, human. You’ve got some moves.”

  I glanced over at the pirate. His black hair was slicked back, wrapped tightly in a knot, except a single strand hanging limply down his face. “If you say for a girl, I will pummel you.”

  He held up his arms in surrender. “I wasn’t. You fight fair for a girl, guy, human, or fae.”

  I shifted back on my heel, my eyebrows furrowing. “Thank you.” It came out more as a question.

  “I know. I’m shocked I’m complimenting you. Believe me.” He chuckled. As I walked, his footsteps joined mine. “I also can’t deny seeing you kick her ass didn’t bring a smile to my face.”

  “What?” I cringed. The adrenaline was waning, and my body was starting to feel the effects of four hours of training and the fight with Amara. “Don’t you care about her? Love her?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “That doesn’t mean I can’t see her for what she is—a self-serving uppity bitch who probably deserves to be put in her place a time or two. But all those things make me love her more. She’s had a hard life and doesn’t put up with crap. She’ll go after what she wants and doesn’t sugarcoat things. I like that. She is who she is.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I stared at Amara’s lithe frame walking close to Ryker’s.

  “If it wasn’t for the Wanderer, you two might see you have more in common than you think.”

  “So... I’m a self-serving uppi
ty bitch?”

  “No. She’s not only those things.” Croygen kept his strides even with mine. “She’s brave, tough, stubborn, and fierce.”

  “Funny, I didn’t hear sweet or kind in there.”

  “Think we both know Amara is neither sweet nor kind,” he replied, glancing over at me. “And you aren’t either. Not unless you let someone in, allow them past the barrier. She’s the same.”

  It was strange hearing about Amara from a different point of view. It wasn’t pleasant to think we might have more things in common besides Ryker.

  The rain let up as we continued to the room, being replaced by the wind whistling down the ravines of the mountain range into the village. Croygen stayed with me, waiting when I straggled far behind everyone else. He seemed a lot more relaxed around me, like we shared something no one else could understand and had bonded by the misery of wanting those we couldn’t have.

  “This is strange,” Croygen mumbled.

  “What?” I cringed, rubbing at my sore ribs. Amara was petite, but damn she had a bite.

  “The turn of events.”

  “Huh?”

  Croygen shook his head. “Nothing.”

  I was about to ask him for further explanation, but my attention was grabbed by two little girls playing kickball with some neighborhood boys in the streets. One couldn’t have been older than five, the other appeared around eight. What caught my attention wasn’t that they were the only girls among the boys, but what the girls were wearing. They had on my clothes, the items Ryker had thrown out the window the night before. The white T-shirt, once covered in blood, now with pink spots stained across the front, adorned the five-year-old. The shirt fit her like a nightgown. The other girl wore the torn yoga pants. She rolled them so her bare feet could locate the ground, which kept tripping her when she ran, but she clung to the pants as if they were a prized possession. She called out to one of her teammates and giggled.

  Life was tough for these people, but they lived life here simply and happily. It struck me as being both beautiful and sad. It was beautiful because they were happy with what they had, but sad because they never let themselves dream about achieving more. Most would be born here and die here; only a few going off to the big city to struggle to make a living. Most Americans, even the poor, were better off than a lot of countries. But here in their childhood innocence, it seemed most of them were happy. With no shoes, raggedy clothes, and a deflated ball in the mud, they were in heaven.