Freedom's Fall

by DJ Michaels

  Tansy stepped out of their arms, laughing, both at the fact that her new underwear drove them crazy and at the fact that she’d spent so much time around Rye he was using her swearwords.

  The standard attire for a woman on Ivasta consisted of an array of clothing that would have made an Edwardian princess swoon. Half boots—which Tansy privately loved—silk stockings, garters, long frothy petticoats, chemise, the dreaded corset and a bustle. Strangely enough, all that layering and ladylike covering up didn’t include panties of any kind, so she bowed to tradition and went commando.

  Her outer gown was an ornate concoction of cream-and-rose brocade and boasted fitted sleeves, rounded neckline, tight waist and a floor-length skirt. All the lacing, trussing and buttoning made Tansy feel so confined she could hardly breathe, and it was impossible to dress herself. As a consequence of needing help from her men, getting dressed took far longer than it should have. It was also a lot more fun.

  The ladies of Sapphire township also wore their hair up in elaborate designs that went far beyond Tansy’s meager abilities. The best she could do was to braid her ponytail and wrap it in a round bun, pinning for all she was worth.

  It was strange not to feel her hair swinging against her back, and the confining tightness of the corset made her aware of her body in a way that was surprisingly sexy. And she was naked from the waist down under her petticoats, so her body was almost throbbing when she finally joined her men in the lounge room.

  They both stood, and the appreciation in their eyes stirred the throbbing into an ache.

  Dev smiled and held out his hand. “You look beautiful, Tansy.”

  “Thank you.” Crossing the room, she slipped her hand into his strong grasp.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Rye handed her a glass half-filled with a liquid that looked, and no doubt tasted, like viscous dam water. “You need to drink it all at once.”

  She hesitated. “What about the ride home?”

  Rye pointed to a flask on the table. “We’ve got it sorted.”

  Of course they did. She smiled at her men, ignored the pitching roll of her nervous what-am-I-doing? stomach and took the glass from Rye. It suddenly hit home just how far gone she was for these men. She would rather drug herself than miss out on spending a day in the sun with Rye and Dev. She winced at the way her fuck-ups kept accumulating.

  Before any of them could change their minds, she raised the glass, knocked back the contents and let the shudders take her as the revolting brew slimed its way down her throat.

  Rye swung her up in his arms and she snuggled in, relaxing against him as he carried her to the lair. The dragons were saddled and waiting in the landing area, and the moment Dev settled in Fellescend’s saddle, Rye handed her up. They were just buckling her into her harness when she let out a contented sigh and sleep took her.

  Dev should have been happy. Cradling his woman close, flying with Fellescend while his best friend flew a bare wing-tip away, the sun on his back and the wind in his hair. It should have been perfect. Joyous.

  But Tansy was breaking his heart.

  She was so courageous, so gutsy, it was agonizing to see her fall and get back up, only to fall again. Willersby fucking Lockmehdyhn was living on borrowed time. Dev knew killing that little prick wouldn’t help Tansy’s recovery, but it would help him to sleep at night. He and Rye had promised to care for and protect their woman, and Dev didn’t see how that vow could be kept while Lockmehdyhn drew breath.

  The township grew closer and Dev tucked his dark thoughts away. He didn’t want anything to spoil Tansy’s outing, and after everything she’d shared this morning she was bound to be sensitive to his and Rye’s moods.

  The dragons landed in a small clearing, and once the Enforcers dismounted they tucked themselves between the blacks and waited for Tansy to wake. Once she was fully alert, the three of them headed toward the market while Fellescend and Zenbaylan once again took to the air.

  Ion storms were frequent on Ivasta, so everyone considered a full day of clear skies an opportunity to be grasped with both hands. The market was busy, vibrant and crossed all social classes and age groups. Dev preferred the quiet solemnity of the libraries in his spare time, but he was in no way immune to the festival atmosphere of market days.

  He squeezed Tansy’s hand. “What do you want to see first?”

  “I want to see all of it.” She pointed to the first row of neatly laid-out stalls. “Let’s start there and work our way up and down the aisles.”

  He shot a grin over her head at Rye. Their woman was nothing if not methodical. Resigned to walking past every stall in the market, Dev shortened his step, slowed his pace and let Tansy guide them wherever she wanted to go.

  She seemed fascinated with everything she saw, asking questions, rubbing those soft, smooth fingers over items as varied as fruit and jewelry. She even stopped at stalls showcasing weaponry and leatherwork. A few times Dev offered to buy her an item that took her fancy, but she always refused. He wasn’t sure what was behind her reticence and he didn’t push to find out. She had enough to deal with already, and today was supposed to be fun and relaxing for all three of them. Besides, he could always come back and buy her something next time.

  Hours later they were still strolling, and Dev could no longer ignore his empty stomach. “Let’s get something to eat.” This was his third attempt to convince Tansy he needed food.

  “In a minute,” she replied, not turning her attention away from the dinnerware she was perusing. “Just let me get to the end of this row.”

  Dev peered around her back, and when he saw how many stalls they still had to traverse, his stomach squeezed. “I’ll be dead by then. Nothing left of me but skin and bone.”

  Offering the stall-holder an apologetic nod, he wrapped his arm around Tansy’s waist and began steering her toward the food area.

  She craned her head around to catch Rye’s attention. “Can’t you do something? I wasn’t finished.”

  Rye clasped her free hand and tugged her along. “I’m with Dev on this, I’m afraid. I’m hungry too, and it’s not as if the stalls won’t be there when we come back.”

  “Yes, but I might miss out on a bargain.”

  “A bargain?” Dev asked. “You haven’t let us buy you anything all morning. I’ve lost count of the bargains you’ve passed up.” Then his stomach growled, loud enough to make Tansy’s eyes pop.

  “Okay,” she snickered. “Food it is, then.”

  Once again Tansy went to every stall, just so she knew what was on offer before she made her choice. Dev was ordinarily a patient man but Tansy was pushing her luck when she got between him and decent meal. When they’d decided on their orders, Dev got into line for the food and Rye wandered off to get drinks. Tansy continued to stroll, peering at the variety of food, chatting to the stall-holders and tasting whatever samples were on offer.

  Their order was so large the grinning proprietor placed it an oversized canvas bag free of charge. Stomach rumbling, Dev eased his way out of the crush and searched for Tansy’s dark head. He didn’t see her immediately but he wasn’t too worried. Rye was still in his queue and no doubt Tansy was with him.

  But when Rye turned and came toward him, there was no woman by his side. Their eyes met across the space, over the heads of countless townsfolk, and Dev knew the panic in Rye’s eyes was reflected his own.

  “Tansy!” He dropped his packages, the food forgotten, and began pushing his way through the crowd, frantic with the need to find their mate. He shouted and kept on shouting, but she didn’t answer him. Fear clawed his gut, cold and vicious, and he couldn’t even contemplate the thought that they might have failed her again. She’d trusted them, she’d relied on them to keep her safe, and now they couldn’t even find her.

  Fellescend, do you know where Tansy is?

  Isn’t she with you? The question was threaded with a dark threat, but Dev didn’t have time to deal with dragon arrogance.r />
  Just answer the question. Can you find her?

  You lost her? You lost my pet? A spike of anger shot down the link, along with an overdose of indignation.

  Dev didn’t have time for dragon histrionics. Fellescend, please.

  You are a terrible mate. We need to have a long talk about your duties and responsibilities in regard to taking care of my possessions.

  Dev rolled his eyes and was about to wrangle his dragon back on track when Oskaal popped into the air in front of him.

  The dragonet will find her. At least he knows how to execute his duties—

  Dev cut the link to Fellescend and spoke to Oskaal. “I can’t find Tansy. Can you track her for me?”

  The dragonet gave an agitated trill and pumped his wings until he was a body-length above the crowd. He turned a full circle, sniffing and humming deep in his throat, then he stopped, trilled again and set off at an angle away from the food stalls. Dev ran to keep up and Rye kept pace with him, shoulder to shoulder as they raced to find their woman.

  They’d barely traveled fifty paces down the aisle when Oskaal darted off at a right angle. Unwilling to be left behind, Dev pushed aside the stall patrons and vaulted over the sturdy wooden table. The back of the stall was enclosed in a three-sided tent, and as the dragonet wriggled its way through a gap in the corner fastenings, Dev unsheathed the knife from his boot. In two swift slices the flap of the back wall swung free and Oskaal was through it in a flash. Dev and Rye were right behind him, running across a small alley before repeating the procedure in reverse on the other side. This stall-holder’s fruit didn’t survive under the momentum and body-mass of two fast-moving Enforcers. Dev kept going, not having the time or the patience to deal with the chaos he and Rye left behind. Keeping his eyes on the sparkling brown-and-gold scales in front of him, Dev focused on nothing but Oskaal and the safety of their woman.

  Chapter Nine

  It seemed like forever since Tansy had felt anything close to normal, but strolling around the market with Dev and Rye made her feel safe enough to let her worries rest for a while. The sun shone warm and bright, the air smelled clean and fresh and the humming conversation of the market-goers created a happy wave of sound. Tansy wanted to see everything but she also wanted to savor this experience. Her good memories of Gemarra still had a long way to go before they outweighed the bad.

  However, she was making headway with the help of her Enforcers, their dragons and her friends.

  Dev and Rye went their separate ways to organize lunch, so Tansy took the opportunity to look at another stall, which led to another, then another. She wasn’t hungry enough to care how long the chow-line was and she was determined not to waste a minute of the day standing in line.

  An array of billowing silks caught her attention, and she wandered closer to the stall. The fabric looked as light as air, and as she reached out to feel it for herself a smooth, masculine hand wrapped lightly around her wrist.

  She turned her head, and when she caught sight of the man’s tunic she froze in horror. Sky blue with black trim. The colors of House Lockmehdyhn.

  He was young, just entering manhood, and his clear brow creased in a frown. “Lady Willersby, what are you doing here?”

  Tansy’s throat worked but no sound came out. She wanted to tell him to get his hands off her, that her name was Tansy Coleman and she would never again answer to Lady Willersby. She wanted to scream at him in fury. She desperately needed to call for Dev and Rye, but her lips wouldn’t even open. Her chest constricted, she couldn’t take a breath, and the sky-blue tunic seemed to fill her gaze and spread like a visual cancer. Everything stopped. No sound, no sight but the hideous blue, no sensation but the gentle grip of a young man who’d just shattered her world.

  He drew her closer. “My Lady, are you well? Do you know where you are?”

  The pull of his hand forced her to take a step and the movement shattered her frozen state. Blood rushed through her body, her pounding heart driving a rhythm so frantic she could hear it roaring in her ears. She took in a huge lungful of air and before she even began her exhale she broke away from him and ran.

  His shout went up behind her, calling for her to stop, using that hateful name. It only spurred her on faster. Running down the aisle, she spied a break in the pedestrians and she hit the dirt, scooting under a heavy table and scrambling for the back of the tent. Lifting the flap, she rolled under it, hurtled across a clear space and then rolled under another canvas wall. Hiking her skirts out of the way, she kept low, rolling under canvas, scrambling beneath tables, pushing past the strolling crowds at hip-height. The man might be looking for her, but unless he had X-ray vision, he’d never see her if she kept close to the ground.

  But running at a crouch was hard work, particularly when she had to drag meters of fabric with her and her breathing was so restricted by her corset. She’d also been holed up in apartments and dens for months on end and she’d lost too much conditioning to hold her pace. Maintaining her crouch, she slowed to a fast walk and began looking for a hiding place.

  Three stalls later, she found it. Coming into the area from the back, she discovered a small sectioned-off space that was a tent within a tent. It was dark, half filled with boxes and perfect for her immediate needs.

  Dragging air into her burning lungs, she made a crawl-space for herself, wriggling into the cavity before collapsing in a sweaty, nerve-racked jumble of anxiety. She lay there in the dark, every sense stretched to the limit as she listened for the footfalls of her pursuer.

  Then she began to wonder. What if he’d called for reinforcements? What if, right at this very moment, Willersby Lockmehdyhn’s guards were hunting her down? Hunting her with the sole purpose of taking her back to Allsgate and the hell that awaited her there? She shook her head. She wasn’t going to be taken so easily this time. There was a knife hidden in her boot and she was quite prepared to use it on anyone wearing a sky-blue tunic. Or herself if necessary. She would fight for her freedom, but if it came down to it, she’d rather die than go back to Allsgate as Willersby’s mistress.

  Rye hadn’t felt this panicked since…ever. Knowing Tansy was out there unprotected did things to his insides that were so visceral he was surprised he wasn’t bleeding all over the ground. He plowed forward with Dev, leaving a trail of outrage and destruction in their wake. The shouts that followed him were as inconsequential as a bug on a dragon.

  Any luck, Zenbaylan?

  No. His dragon’s voice was as cool and calm as usual. We’ve been trying to call her but she’s shut us out again. Which shouldn’t happen. Once the door is open, a pet shouldn’t be able to close it.

  Rye avoided a servant wrangling three small boys, but in doing so he knocked over a barrel of walking sticks. Let’s just ignore what should be, he said to Zenbaylan. Let’s just concentrate on what is. Keep calling her.

  Of course.

  Rye could almost hear the mental sniff of disdain in her voice. Too bad. He had bigger things to worry about than his pissy dragon.

  Oskaal set a punishing pace, so when he suddenly back-winged and hovered in a narrow walkway, Rye didn’t quite pull up in time. He narrowly avoided plowing into Dev, but the tent that stopped his forward momentum didn’t fare as well. The pole he crashed into snapped, wobbled and fell to the ground, taking the back corner of the tent with it.

  Dev looked up at the dragonet. “Where is she?”

  Oskaal trilled, glided to the tent next to the one they’d damaged and dropped to scratch at the dirt with his claw. Dev strode over and yanked up the bottom of the canvas. Rye dropped onto his back and rolled under before Dev even got a chance to motion him through.

  Rye got to his feet but couldn’t see much in the dim light. “Tansy? Honey, are you here?” It was quiet except for his racing heart as it beat against his ribs in a tattoo of fear and anxiety.

  Zenbaylan, is she in here?

  Yes. Oskaal says she is where you are. Perhaps, if something scared her enough to run, the
n she is scared enough to hide.

  Rye sent love and thanks through the link as emotions rather than words, then he turned his attention to his woman.

  “It’s all right, Tansy. We know something happened, but you’re safe with us.” Despite the darkness, he saw Dev flinch, because they’d just proven she wasn’t safe with them at all.

  Dev eased a wooden box to one side. “Are you in here, honey? Will you let us help you?”

  Rolling to his knees to help, Rye pulled a second box aside and saw a fragment of cream brocade and a booted foot. He should have felt relief, but when he realized that foot wasn’t moving, the shaft of fear that coursed through him froze his limbs.

  Dev reached out, trailing his fingers lightly over her ankle. “Tansy, are you with us? It’s Dev and Rye. We’re here now, and we’ve come to take care of you. We’ve come to take you home.”

  The foot jerked and Tansy rocketed out of her hidey-hole, launching herself at Dev with such force he tumbled onto his back. Rye crawled over to untangle them and help Dev sit up. When it became obvious Tansy wasn’t going to let go anytime soon, Rye bracketed them both with his arms and legs and held on as tight as he dared.

  His eyes burned, his chest ached and his arms and legs shook as though he had a fever. His vision wavered in a watery blur and he couldn’t quite get enough air into his lungs. He’d heard people describe some experiences as a living nightmare, and he’d thought he understood what that meant. The events of this afternoon proved just how wrong he’d been.

  He kissed Tansy’s neck, stroked her arms, and because they all needed the reassurance, he did the same for his denmate. Dev snuggled Tansy closer, cupped Rye’s head, and they took their comfort from one another.

  They remained like that for quite a while, but eventually Zenbaylan spoke. She’s back with us now.

  Rye nuzzled her shoulder. “Tansy? Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Her voice was quiet. “I feel like an idiot but I’m not physically hurt.”