Dulce's Champion (Jaguars of Brigantia Book 1)

by Lisa Daniels

  Then the Unwashed had infiltrated many levels of the government, turning people against the seers who were helping the nation turn things around. They had avoided the seers for the first couple of decades, but for the last year or so, they had been more open in their attacks. Most people were not yet aware that Sumarian forces had been taking over the country, but the seers had all become aware over the last couple of years. Just as they had needed the champions, their shifter allies had begun to disappear. The seers had been left largely unprotected as the people turned on them.

  Yet a champion has taken me away. What is going on? Dulce’s thoughts were still organized enough as she felt Draven analyzing her. He hadn’t drugged her. So what was happening to her? She wanted to know what he was doing, or what he was looking for, but she was incapable of even opening her eyes.

  “Ah,” there was a note of understanding as one of his hands pressed on her stomach. “Of course, that was where it started, but it doesn't explain how they have continued to affect you. Unless…” The warmth of his hands disappeared. “That really complicates things.”

  Dulce felt a warmth on her forehead. “I know you have questions, but I need you to be patient. There is a lot of damage, and it will take time to help you. For now, just sleep.”

  Dulce knew that it was a suggestion, not a command. Her arm felt heavy as she moved it to his. She patted it once, feeling him tense as she did so. Then she rolled over and went to sleep.

  Chapter 6

  An Unexpected Experiment

  The next morning, Dulce rose and noticed that she was no longer in the clothes that she had been in the day before. Instead, she wore the same nightgown. The seer remembered enough from the previous night to know who had probably changed her clothing. A noise at the door caused her to look up.

  Draven walked into the room and placed a tray on the table. “Good morning.”

  “You changed me.” It wasn’t quite an accusation, but the way she said it did require a response.

  “Yes. You ran along the beach in the trousers. I did not want you to be sandy and uncomfortable.”

  “Oh,” she looked at him. “Thank you.”

  Draven simply nodded and moved toward the door.

  “You aren’t going to join me?” Dulce looked at the meal, then at the man.

  He looked at her, then looked away. “Um, you aren’t dressed.”

  Dulce couldn’t help but laugh, “You changed me. Surely, you aren’t feeling shy about my apparel.”

  He cleared his throat. “You were asleep then. The nightgown looks a bit different on you when you are awake and moving.”

  Dulce twisted her mouth, “But you must have seen me naked. What difference does it make whether I am awake or asleep?”

  His eyes met hers for a moment, and she thought she detected a blush. “A significant difference, I can assure you.”

  “What if I change? Would you join me then?” He was clearly about to decline, so she pressed, “I hate eating alone, so I would really appreciate if you joined me. If you have already eaten, you can just sit and talk with me.”

  Draven looked to the hall, then back at Dulce. A small sigh escaped his lips, something the seer felt certain he hadn’t wanted her to notice. “I'm not much of a conversationalist,” he warned her.

  Dulce grabbed a few clothes from the dresser and hurried to the bathroom. Quickly changing, she stepped back into the bedroom. She placed her nightgown in the dresser, then moved over to the table.

  He pulled the chair out for her, and she sat down. “Thank you very much. I know you aren’t much for talking, but your company is nice. Sometimes, Darinon and I just sat in quiet because you don’t always need to talk to communicate.”

  As he sat, Draven looked over at her when Dulce mentioned her champion. He laced his fingers together and just looked at her.

  Dulce picked up her fork and started played with the egg scramble. “I still really miss him, but something feels a little different today.” Her eyes met his. “How long do you need me to be patient?”

  This seemed to catch him off guard. “I'm sorry?”

  She looked back at her egg. “Last night you told me that you needed time and wanted me to be patient. I can do that, but I would like to know roughly how long…” She wanted to give some reason why she needed to return, but Dulce couldn’t think of a single thing that would take her back to Ishtar.

  “There is nothing for you back there.” His voice was gentle as he said it, and Dulce thought she caught a second of concern in his eyes. But as soon as she turned to look at him, Draven’s expression was emotionless.

  “I have to have some purpose.”

  Draven tilted his head to the side, the sunlight reflecting off of his orange eyes. “You will have to find your own purpose now. Ishtar used you, and then left you exposed and vulnerable to the Unwashed.”

  Dulce bit her lip, “I can’t just do nothing.”

  “It is good to hear you say that, but I worry that you will forget that.”

  “How can I forget that?” Dulce looked up at him. “I’ve never been very good at sitting around doing nothing. It drives me crazy.”

  There was a sad smile on his face, and Draven did not try to hide it. “We will be addressing that soon, but you need to work up to that first.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t understand what happened, why I have so few memories.”

  Draven sighed and placed his hands on the table in front of him. “The Unwashed started to penetrate the Ishtar government more than a decade ago. There were a few champions and seers who realized it, but they were killed. Of course, it appeared they died in battle or during intrigues, so few people questioned it.” He moved one hand to the side, “The seers were the target, but you don’t keep in touch or coordinate. You have always left that up to the government, and the Unwashed took advantage of that.” He moved his other hand toward himself, “Champions talk, we coordinate. When the number of us getting killed increased every year, the communication became more… critical.”

  Dulce frowned, “You couldn’t have talked so closely with everyone. Darinon and I talked all the time, and he never once mentioned—”

  Draven shook his head, “He couldn’t tell you. The Unwashed have methods of taking over seers, controlling your minds. We learned about that at the Solona king’s funeral. We had all thought Natalya died when Basille was killed. But she was at the funeral, and apparently she was his mistress. When Haiden tried to talk to her, she didn’t recognize him because Haiden was not known to the Unwashed.”

  “How can anyone not notice—oh. Haiden doesn't look like a champion.”

  Draven nodded, “She thought he was part of the Order, so she acted accordingly, being cold with him. It was then that we started to be more cautious of what we could tell our seers. It has taken this long to start to work out when you are being controlled, or simply being influenced.”

  Dulce frowned at her food, “That is why champions left? You couldn’t trust us anymore?”

  “If you will remember, we didn’t leave. There are still a few out there working with seers in the open. To every other country, especially the Unwashed, it appears that our numbers are simply dwindling, at least it did until recently. They seem to have realized that we were aware of what they were doing, but they don’t think that we are a threat without seers. Most of us withdrew because our numbers are not recovered enough to put so many at risk, but we certainly want to honor the agreement. If not for seers, we would have gone extinct by now. The problem is that seers will have to leave Ishtar. We are doing what we can to save as many of you as possible.”

  Dulce put her fork down. “What about those who are imprisoned?”

  “They are all being controlled.”

  “You can’t know that for certain.”

  “I—” he pursed his lips, “we recently had confirmation that it was the case. We tried to warn the Order, pointing to Natalya as an example, but they seem to think that they ar
e immune from the Unwashed influence. Solona is still powerful, so they do not believe that the Unwashed would be so foolish. The assassins, on the other hand, well,” he sighed again, “they were the ones who warned us years ago. We didn’t listen either.”

  Dulce looked over at him, “The assassins knew and tried to save you?”

  “Save isn’t the right word, but yes, they tried to make us aware. Saving would have meant offering substantial assistance, and well, they have their own problems now.” Draven folded his arms across his chest.

  Looking over at him, the seer was puzzled. “There are so many questions to all of that.”

  “And I ask that you hold off on most of them for now.”

  “May I ask questions, and you can answer the ones you feel you can?”

  “Only if you eat.” His eyes looked at her full plate.

  “Oh, right.” Dulce quickly stuffed a forkful into her mouth. “Sorry, this food is too good to waste.”

  “It probably isn’t quite so good cold.”

  Dulce shook her head, “It is still amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this? It really is unlike anything I have ever had before.”

  Draven shifted a little, looking uncomfortable. “I would… no, telling you would actually help.” He definitely looked uneasy as he watched her, “I learned a bit from Orion and Anders, on different occasions obviously.”

  “I’ve never heard of Orion, but Anders, isn’t he that strange member of the Order?”

  “More like a loose association with them. He is a vegetarian, so his knowledge was incredibly helpful in learning how to make vegetables and fruits more palatable.”

  Dulce laughed, “A cat shifter that doesn’t eat meat?”

  “Fish, he does eat fish.”

  “Of course,” Dulce was beaming. “Who is Orion? And who was your primary influence if they were only partial influences? A devoted mother?” She gave him a knowing smile.

  Draven looked away, “I never knew my mother and never had a family. Orion is of the same order as Caspian.”

  Dulce looked at him, a part of her wanting to apologize about his family, but she decided to focus on the part that was clearly less painful to discuss. “An assassin?" The smile spread slowly, “They are very good cooks. Ignacio was rather brilliant at it. Not quite as good as you, but much better in the kitchen than any of the other champions I knew. Still, you didn’t say who was your primary influence.”

  “All you have to do is think back to when we met and you will start to piece that together.”

  Dulce pouted a little, “I’m sorry, but that is still a gap in my memory.”

  “Yes, it is. When you are ready, we will talk more about my history.”

  “It sounds like you didn’t train with the other champions. Is that because—never mind. I will be patient.”

  He gave her a rare smile, “Thank you.”

  They sat in silence as she finished eating. As soon as she was done, Draven stood and picked up her plate. She placed a hand over his, “No, you are not my servant. I won’t let you do everything.”

  “You have had a very rough two years. Try to relax and find yourself. You will need it.” His eyes searched hers, and Dulce felt torn between helping and listening to him.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she finally murmured.

  Draven watched her for a moment, then he pointed to a vase of flowers. “You can take that and add fresh water and cut the stems.”

  “Why cut the stems?”

  Draven stopped what he was doing and looked to see if she was being serious. “It keeps the flowers fresh longer.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you could prolong them.”

  “Have you never taken care of flowers before?”

  “Only uncut flowers. It has always made me sad to see them cut.”

  “I will keep that in mind.”

  Dulce picked up the vase and followed him to the kitchen. He worked without saying a word. After placing the dishes in the sink, he pulled a knife out of a small block near the door. “Please be careful. I know you don’t have healing abilities, and my skills are… wanting.”

  “The cut on my leg was expertly mended.”

  “You were asleep,” he said, as if that was all the explanation that was required.

  “Why does that matter?”

  “You didn’t feel the pain.”

  Dulce looked at the knife where he had placed it on the counter. “Do you have problems seeing people in pain?”

  “I have an aversion to seeing good people in pain, and it can lead to mistakes.”

  Pulling the flowers out of the vase, she stepped outside to dump the water. Standing on the beach were the children from the day before. As soon as they saw her, they came running over and started begging her to play with them. Just like the day before, she crouched down and smiled at them. “Give me a few minutes, I need to finish some chores.”

  A voice behind her caused her to turn. “Go ahead, I will take care of this.” An arm passed in front of her eyes, and took the vase from her hands.

  “It’s not fair to leave you to do all the work.”

  Draven motioned with his head to the beach, “Go ahead and take her. Make sure you keep her busy.”

  The eldest kid grabbed her hand and pulled Dulce away from the door. She noticed that the kid’s eyes were on the champion, a slight look of fear in them. “You are very brave to stay with him.”

  “Why?” She turned to look back at the home.

  The only response she received was a round of demands to play several different games. Before she knew it, Dulce was counting as the children went and hid nearby.

  Hours would pass before she saw Draven again. When he finally materialized on the porch, he called to the children, “It’s time to go home.”

  The children began to wave at her, and ran back up the beach.

  Dulce wiped her hands off on her trousers, a huge smile on her face. She walked back to the house. Still watching the children laughing as they headed to their homes, the seer said, “You are lucky to have kids near your home.”

  When he didn’t respond, Dulce turned to look at Draven. His eyes were focused on her. “I am sorry,” he said as he stepped near her, “but it is time to bring back more of your memories.”

  “You don’t need to apologize for that. I don’t like missing entire months of my life.”

  “That is likely to change once you start to remember.” He took her hand and gently led her back to her room.

  When they reached the room, he released her hand and picked up her journal. “Please start from where you left off. It would be better for your memories to return based on your own initiation than any outside influence. Your reaction the last time was more… violent than I expected.”

  Dulce looked at the journal, then at Draven. “Have you read it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you plan to?”

  “Only if you say it is alright.”

  “What happened to my memories?”

  Draven held out the journal, “I will tell you after seeing signs of improvement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I still need time. Please.”

  Dulce stepped forward and took the journal from his outstretched hand. She looked down at it, then took another step forward. Watching his expression, she placed a hand on his cheek. His eyes continued to look passively at her, as if she wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Dulce raised up on her toes as she watched his mouth. Softly she kissed his lips, then she pulled away.

  Draven blinked. “What was that for?”

  “Thank you.” She pulled the chair out at the desk and sat down. Opening the journal to the next blank page, she picked up the quill and began to write.

  Draven stood still for a while watching her work. So engrossed in what she was doing, Dulce did not notice when he left.

  Chapter 7

  Another Memory and Another Revelation

  At first, Dul
ce’s words flowed freely. She began by recounting a few of the missions she had with Darinon, but the more she wrote, the darker the story became. Dulce did not notice the tears rolling down her face as she wrote about his death. Someone had pulled her away from the Unwashed as Darinon had run toward them, but she could not remember who. Standing up, she went into the bathroom to blow her nose because she could no longer breathe through her tears. A minute later, Dulce returned, sat at the desk and began to write again.

  She wanted to stop remembering, to forget the pain. Her hand flew across the page, scribbling down memories of the events that happened immediately after his death. For the first time, the seer realized that she had never shed a tear. Not once until she had met Draven. This definitely struck her as odd, and it changed the way she recalled events after that.

  As soon as she realized one thing that was out of character, Dulce began to see other small inconsistencies in her behavior. She had been aware of a desire to die, though she had thought it was because of everything that had happened following Darinon’s death. That had only been the beginning.

  Dulce had lost a lot of blood after being shot in the abdomen. The scar was still there, a daily reminder of everything. She stopped writing and pulled her shirt up to look at the scar. Another memory returned, and she held back a sob. Biting her lip until it bled, Dulce’s eyes went back to her journal, but she no longer felt like she could write.

  “I think that is enough.” A hand closed the journal and removed it from the desk.

  Dulce stared at the place where the journal had been, fighting back the tears as the taste of metal filled her mouth. Aware that someone was standing her up, Dulce turned and buried her face in Draven’s chest, unable to further hold back the flood. Again he silently stroked her hair as she sobbed. Clinging to him, she wanted to forget the memory, to return to the way she was that morning, completely unaware of the consequences.

  “You were right,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to remember any more. I can’t remember any more.”

  “You must, and you will.”

  She shook her head, “Everything. I’ve lost everything I ever wanted.”