Wind and Fire

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Wind and Fire Page 14

by T. J. Michaels


  She blinked. Then blinked again as he stood. RuArk stepped back, as if he understood that she wanted, needed, to get up on her own just now. Rhia gained her feet with a sheepish grin and wobbly knees, snatched up her cloak and then turned to head back to camp.

  “Your thirty days begin right now,” he said as he reached out and took her hand. The triumph in his eyes dared her to pull away, but it wasn’t necessary. She was too tired to fight with him anymore. Besides, she was a woman of her word and she would keep it.

  Oh joy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On the way back to camp, Rhia marveled at how much her life had irrevocably changed—correction, how much her life had irrevocably changed after a muddy sparring match, a few quick words over some strong red wine in her father’s study, and a second challenge.

  Oh, hell, her father. He was probably worried sick and furious with her at the same time. Damn. How was she ever going to explain her way out of this one?

  A slight tug on RuArk’s hand got his attention.

  “Any chance my father knows I’m safe? I also need to get a message to Joan and...”

  Instead of a true answer, all he gave was a deadpan stare and a quiet, “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Look, you don’t understand, RuArk. I asked Joan to...”

  “Rhia. We will talk later, in private. Right now, there is pressing business we both must attend to.”

  Okay, fine. Play hardball, why don’tcha.

  They passed by what RuArk indicated was their tent, and continued on through the other side of camp. As they walked, it dawned on her that holding hands with this man felt... comfy, though her palm had begun to sweat a bit from the remnants of adrenaline. Rather than pull away, she simply tightened her grip.

  No surprise to see a horde of men milling about knowing that wherever RuArk was, so were his warriors. They were all busy, yet everything was quiet and settled. Even the horses were silent.

  Brita and Sharyn sat on a big rock stirring a pot of something that smelled deliciously like meat stew. Real meat stew that made Rhia’s stomach grumble loudly. Was it dinner time already? Her mouth watered in anticipation of tasting whatever it was.

  Just then, Brita looked up and called a greeting while Sharyn tended the fire, cleaned her knives, and instructed Brita in the cooking, all at the same time. Rhia responded with a half-hearted wave, but didn’t leave RuArk’s side. She’d given her word to be gracious about getting to know him. No muss. No fuss.

  “Where are we going? Any chance we can eat soon?” she asked.

  “We can, but first, I want you to meet someone.”

  A rugged-looking, older, large warrior—well, that didn’t mean much considering they were all large—with streaks of gray shot through jet black hair, moved toward them with an air of authority. He was a stocky, boulder shaped man and oh so easy on the eyes.

  “Lady Rhia, it is an honor and pleasure to meet the First Heir of the Draeman province and her seven colonies. I am Osgar.”

  Wow. What a charmer.

  “Rhia, this is one of my most trusted warriors.”

  “Is he a First Commander, too?” she whispered. The male smiled but deferred to RuArk.

  “His rank is similar, but his duties are... unique,” RuArk replied. To the charmer, he said, “Explain to the lady what you saw.”

  Gaze now firmly on her face, the man’s expression hardened enough to still the rumbling of hunger in her stomach and replace it with anticipation of the worst kind.

  “My fireteam has been tracking you. As well as those on the hunt.”

  On the hunt?

  “I don’t understand,” Rhia replied. Instinct declared impending doom. Dramatic sounding, yes, but it couldn’t be helped just now given the buzz of foreboding energy suddenly swirling through the air.

  “We have been tracking and eliminating, when necessary, the Noman that hunt you.”

  “Noman? You mean the ones in children’s stories?” she asked disbelievingly, having only heard of the things in fairy tales.

  “They are creatures who live in the dark caves far to the north. They live on the blood of men and prey on the weak.” Osgar spat fiercely upon the ground when he finished speaking, as if it would wash the taint from his mouth from merely talking about them. Realizing what he’d done, he apologized quickly, but without much remorse on his handsome, chiseled face.

  “Dalmore,” RuArk called to a younger man nearby. “She needs to know what hunts her.”

  Brow furrowed and a knot of apprehension tightening at the base of her spine, Rhia listened closely, grimacing as Osgar and Dalmore described what happened to the northern folk who were now called Noman.

  “The Noman were once common people of the northwestern lands. The mountainous region stretches from western Draema, across the land bridge to border northwestern Gaia. After the Breaking, their homes completely destroyed and the earth rearranged, those people sought shelter in caves in the mountains.

  “They did not know the caves contained a dangerous substance. Before the quakes it was safely buried deep within the ground, but became exposed by the heaving of the earth. This substance, a glowing rock infused with an uncommon energy, is called radium. It provided them with heat and light. But the people did not know that when men are exposed for long periods of time, they are changed. The histories call the energy emitted from this rock, gamma rays.

  “Many of the people died of a sickness from the rock. When those who survived came out from the caves, the plants and animals that were exposed to them died. Even now it is a barren wasteland where nothing grows. Those who survived death began to change, their bodies accommodating the poison and taint of the rock. Their eyes and hair became an unnatural white and their skin lost its pigment, taking away their ability to tolerate the warmth and light of the sun.”

  “They developed an allergy to sunlight,” Rhia stated, coming to understand the sad history of these Borderlanders.

  “Correct, Blademaster. Their bodies could no longer hold its own heat so they became wholly dependent on the glowing rock for warmth. Unable to farm or rebuild land during the day, only at night could they venture from their caves to hunt. Over time, even their teeth changed to accommodate their new unnatural diet.”

  Rhia felt sorry for the people who had walked into those caves seeking shelter only to be condemned to a living hell. It happened a long time ago, but the result of those events lived among them today. Hunted them. Hunted her.

  “How is it they became dependent on blood?” she asked Dalmore, unaware she’d instinctively sought RuArk’s hand, twining her fingers with his, seeking his solid strength.

  “There was no food as their livestock perished along with their lands. They began to eat their dead, but the flesh and organs rotted quickly and contained lethal amounts of the taint. They found that if they could extract the blood just before a person died, it sustained them. And the blood of a healthy human was even better. To this day they drink only the blood of the living. The entire society became known as the Noman, for they were no longer men.”

  “They sound like the vampires of ancient legend.”

  “There are differences,” Osgar said. “Those legends speak of supernatural forces. These are people who simply sought refuge in a place that they should not have gone. Noman mate and bare young the same as any other species, passing the mutation to their offspring. Noman cannot be ‘made’ by being bitten, nor are they immortal. Centuries ago, they began to migrate from those original caves to spread out into the Borderlands. Some of their ability to retain body heat has returned, though their colorless features, allergy to sunlight, and need for blood remain.”

  “What happens if they do bite you?”

  “Their bite introduces the taint to your blood, like a bacteria or virus. You would be dead within days, if they did not bleed you dry first.”

  “What do they look like,” Rhia whispered. She didn’t know whether she should continue to pity them or be revolted.<
br />
  They led her a short distance into the trees, when Dalmore stopped short.

  “They look like this, Blademaster.” Dalmore pulled a canvas sack off a large lump of something on the ground. It was a man, or something like a man. With pale skin, as white as Draeman stone, its lips were thin and bloodless with a bluish-gray tint, and the eyes were an indescribable white with a thin ring of light blue around the iris.

  As soon as it laid eye son Rhia, it snarled and growled at her, twisting and pulling against its bonds.

  “You. He comes for you,” it said. “You will not escape.”

  Gleaming yellow teeth showed as it ranted, with canines like the teeth of a wolf. A man with fangs? It was the most eerie thing she’d ever seen. And what the hell was it talking about? Someone was coming for her?

  This was no frail creature trying to get his hands on her. This was an animal. But Rhia was no shrinking violet. Standing her ground, she snarled right back at the thing as RuArk and his warriors made a half circle around her, guarding her back.

  Osgar tossed the sack back over its head while it continued to thrash about, letting out a bloodcurdling scream at having its prey so close yet still out of reach.

  “They move like the wind, but are easily killed. Only as strong as the average man,” Osgar said.

  “We Gaian warriors are far from average,” RuArk whispered for her ears only. “And it seems that my mate is as well.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “You’ve failed me,” Rama Collaidh hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I think not. The men you sent to capture Rhia failed you. One of the foreign giants got to her first and carried her off before the idiots could finish the job. She is probably on the way to Province Springs by now. So do not think to lecture me on failure, old man.”

  Behn knew there was next to nothing that could be said to dispute the facts. It had been Collaidh’s idea to have Rhia kidnapped at the Ambassador’s Quarters—an abysmal failure since Joan Rouillard, who was now missing, had been the one to go meet the delegation instead of Rhia. Never mind the fact that there was no delegation from the eastern provinces who wished to secure iozene from Draema.

  “So, dear Father, I have set other plans into motion.”

  “What other plans?”

  “Do not concern yourself.”

  “Don’t concern myself? How dare you, you white haired Noman freak. You will inform me of these plans immediately,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Red-faced and angry, Collaidh tried to keep the upper hand, not realizing Behn already had it. “Tell me, right now. Otherwise, we can end our business dealings right here, right now. And you can go back to that rock pile you call the Borderlands. So spill it, Behn.”

  “Well, finally, you address me by my name.” Expression calm, cold, he settled into Collaidh’s own chair, stretched his long legs out before him and crossed them at the ankle as if he planned to stay awhile.

  The older man painted on a bland expression he spoke in the most bored voice he could conjure.

  “I have work to do, so tell me now or leave.”

  Examining his neatly trimmed, too-white fingernails, Behn said, “Rhia is to be taken. Plain and simple.”

  “Taken from where?”

  “From wherever she is. I have others keeping a very close eye on her. There is no place she can hide from me.”

  “But I thought you couldn’t get into her Dreams, you idiot.”

  “And I cannot, yet as long as there are weak minded Ungifted available,” he sneered, delivering a pointed look. “Our plans have a chance.”

  Collaidh left his desk, stomped to the door and yanked it open. “Fine. That will be all. You may go.”

  Like the specter of death that he was, Behn rose without the slightest sound, unfazed by his sire’s disdain.

  “And Behn, bring her unharmed and unspoiled. No fucking or feeding on her.”

  “I said, do not concern yourself.” The words brought quite a bit of frost with them as Behn flung them over his shoulder without breaking stride. “You promised me the woman, and I will have her for reasons of my own. Feeding is not one of them.”

  At Collaidh’s dismissive nod, Behn faded into the blackness of the unlighted hallway. But there was one more thing that needed to be said.

  Collaidh had obviously been flustered considering he’d forgotten to close the door. Behn watched him cross the room and grab a bottle of amber liquor off the sideboard with a muttered “shit”.

  When he turned back towards his desk, Behn was right behind him. Close enough to feel his breath waft across his nose as they stood toe to toe.

  “And, Father?” Behn bared gleaming incisors with emphasis on each icily delivered word. “Since humans are the only species that will turn on their own pack, it would be wise to never forget I am half human with a human’s ruthlessness and ambition. Never call me an idiot again.”

  Behn left Collaidh’s office and made his way out into the night. He would continue to play the semi-subservient role until he had what he wanted, then he would do away with the old bastard. Slowly and with great relish.

  To think his sire actually asked, no demanded, that he keep his presence, his very existence, hidden when he’d become an expert at it, having spent almost thirty cycles playing around the edges of this pathetic, weak-minded society.

  Later that night, as a lovely human female slept in his arms, Behn closed his eyes and stepped into the realm of the Dream. In short order, he found the thoughts of a man, who like himself, was held in equally high disregard by Rama Collaidh. The man would remember the instructions given to him while unknowingly carrying Behn’s awareness along with him.

  “Over the next three days,” he whispered into the mind of his unknowing accomplice. “You will discretely gather twenty men loyal to you. Ride for the township of Province Springs in Draema Neine on the morning of the fourth day. One day’s ride outside the township you will meet some of my kin. In your eyes they will appear to be typical human men. You will see no differences. They will help you capture the First Heir. Kill RuArk of Gaia who now protects her. Bring the woman to me unspoiled and unharmed.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  After a simple but delicious meal of meat stew, some kind of sweet bread and ice cold water from the stream, RuArk and Linc left to discuss some of their super-secret warrior stuff, so Rhia took the opportunity to slip into their tent. After a quick wash-up, she changed into a set of light leggings and matching shirt, and slipped into bed.

  The low flames of a fire pit in the center of the tent served as her only source of light as Rhia lay in the dark. She listened to the quiet of the camp, the rustle of the wind through the quickly budding trees, the hushed, almost imperceptible conversation of the men. At first, she’d been relieved to have some time to herself, but that relief quickly turned into something she hated—uncertainty.

  She had to shake it off, had to try. She might not be prepared for this new life she was thrust into, but if she were honest with herself, she wanted it so very badly. Wanted to be the center of someone’s world. To mean something more than status to someone. To be loved. Truly and deeply loved.

  But damn it, she just didn’t know how to be that. So, that meant she had to learn. It was just another challenge, right?

  Riiight.

  And then there was Joan to worry over. Had she made it to the Ambassador’s Quarters without getting caught? Was she in as much trouble as Rhia surely was? Add the Noman threat to the concern over her and her best friend, and there was no doubt her head was going to explode with all the unanswered questions swirling around in there.

  Rhia stilled the moment she sensed him there in the dark. A lovely shiver slithered beneath her skin at the sound of clothing hitting the floor.

  “RuArk?”

  “Yes, sweet,” he whispered.

  Naked, he slipped under the thick blankets, wrapped strong warm arms around her body and pulled her back against him.

  Without thinking or ev
en knowing why, she scooted away from the scalding heat of his body as if she’d been burned.

  “Rhia, you won’t ever get used to sleeping with me if we don’t actually lay together. I am willing to let you work up to the sex, but believe me, it will happen. And you’ll like it.”

  “Why can’t you just let me go to sleep?” Her yawn finished on a squeak when a thick, muscled arm snaked out in the darkness and wrapped about her waist.

  “And I told you, I would have you in my arms tonight. You asked for sleep, but I don’t recall granting that request. At least not just now. Ease back this way and lay against me.”

  She did, and with his taller frame now cuddled behind hers, Rhia didn’t miss how his body seemed to mold perfectly around her. The curves of her backside fit into the contours of his larger frame like a key in a lock, like she belonged there. And it felt good.

  “I understand, RuArk. Having to ask anyone’s permission to do anything, especially sleep, is something that’s going to take me a minute to get used to. Surely you understand.”

  Yep, that was her story and she was sticking to it.

  Her breathing accelerated, in agitation or arousal, she wasn’t quite sure. But she did know one thing—his breath tickled as it played with the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. Rhia didn’t even resist the urge to be in a romantic mood. She was honestly and truly tired. Wiped out, in fact. Not to mention she just couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea of letting him ride to her rescue. The struggle to hold onto herself was in full force in her head even if her stupid body was ready to give up the fight.

  She’d had more to say, but the words floated away when his skilled hands smoothed up and over her stomach to stroke the valley between her breasts.

  “We will talk for a short while.”

  Talk? With his hands learning her skin, she didn’t think she could string a thought together and hold it long enough to push it from her brain down to her mouth.

  He sat up, taking her with him. Rhia huffed, puffed, and grumbled, but still found herself neatly arranged exactly where he wanted her—straddling his massive thighs, palms planted firmly against his chest as she glared daggers.

 

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