Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  The nearest torch threw enough light so she could see his face. Glowing violet eyes ringed with green met her gaze. The pounding of her heart eased. He was more than capable of killing her, had learned that skill at a very young age, but she knew he’d never harm her.

  “Varian, you’ve taken a great risk coming here.”

  “None greater than any you’ve chanced over the last thirty years, old woman.”

  She smiled at the undertone of affection in his voice. He’d called her that from the first time she’d found him, a young child of five scavenging in the fortress rubbish pile for food, half wild and belligerent.

  The young Na’Chi came closer, his tread silent. “He’ll kill Annika the first chance he gets. His kind won’t see the difference between us and the Na’Reish.”

  “His honor binds him. He’s promised to help her.”

  “Annika should have been told about us.” His somber tone made her grimace.

  “Do you think I liked keeping that secret from her? Her knowing of your existence would’ve put you all at risk.”

  “She believes we were all killed as young children.”

  “And the Lady forgive me for lying to her all these years.” Her gaze sharpened. “But you know why it was necessary.”

  His sigh was heavy. “Do you really think the Light Blade will help her?”

  “He gave his word. He’ll learn to trust. When he does, he’ll realize that to be Na’Chi is not the same as Na’Reish.” She prayed with all her heart the path she’d helped prepare was one the Lady approved of. Nothing would provide more peace and comfort than knowing the Na’Chi were safe and able to live happy lives. “If she’s accepted by him, this will pave the way for you. The Lady will guide them both.”

  He reached out an arm to help her around a rut in the tunnel floor. “You put too much faith in Her.”

  “And you not enough.” Her words were sharper than she intended. Hesia squeezed his hand in apology.

  He gave a derisive grunt. “What faith can I put in a deity who allows us to suffer as we have?”

  “Varian! The prejudice and fears of humans and demons alike cause the suffering you speak of, not the Lady.” They’d had this argument many times before. Going over old ground wouldn’t solve anything. “Are you and the others ready?”

  “We’ve moved to the old ruins by the river.”

  “No one saw you?”

  The ghost of a smile shaped his lips. “Avoiding Na’Reish patrols is second nature to us. Years of learning to hide from them have ensured that. We’ll use the same skills to avoid the humans.”

  She grasped his hands tightly and peered up at him, her own smile tinged with sadness. “Then I’ve done all I can to help you.”

  She cherished the next couple of moments as Varian hugged her tightly. She smoothed his long, wavy black hair, and lovingly traced the dark markings that dotted the sides of his face and the jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye to the bottom of his square jaw. He flinched but tolerated her touch.

  The wound was one he’d received when he’d killed one of the dungeon guards after he’d followed her to where he and the other Na’Chi lived outside the fortress. He’d once worn it like a badge of honor until others had seen it as a disfigurement, a flaw in what was otherwise a handsome face. Some Na’Reish prejudices influenced the Na’Chi. The memories of the child he had been and the man he was now merged. Despite his bitterness and cynicism, he cared for and protected the other Na’Chi. She was proud of the warrior he’d become.

  She sighed softly. It would likely be the last time she saw him. There would be a price to pay for helping Annika and the Na’Chi escape. Savyr would question her, and with her refusal to speak, he’d kill her. If it meant Annika and the Na’Chi would all get the chance at a new life, one free from the Na’Reish, then she would accept her destiny. In her heart she knew that the Lady would comfort her as she crossed over. Soon she’d be reunited with her own children.

  “I’ll continue to pray for you, for Annika, for all Na’Chi,” she promised. “Once your journey begins, your future lies in the hands of the Lady.”

  “I put my faith in you, Hesia, mother of my heart.” His whispered words brought tears to her eyes. “We all do.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead then released her. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips as he returned to the tunnel from which he’d emerged. He halted, barely a shadow in the darkness, only his violet eyes visible.

  “You’ve saved us all, no matter what the future brings.”

  Then he was gone.

  Hesia closed her eyes, her heart aching as fiercely as it had when she’d farewelled Annika. She could only hope that the Lady would protect the Na’Chi now; trust and believe that all she’d done would save their lives as she’d been unable to do for her own half-blood children so many years ago.

  “YOU drink blood, just like the Na’Reish?”

  Annika flinched at the hatred in Kalan’s voice. His emerald-colored gaze narrowed and his hand flexed. He’d have drawn a weapon had it been sheathed at his waist. The distance between them across the clearing seemed far too small. She tensed, preparing to flee if he lunged at her.

  “No, not just like the Na’Reish.” She hated how her voice wavered. “I eat food just like you, but I need blood, too. I won’t survive if I don’t drink it.” Disgust flashed across his face. “Do you think I like it? I’d stop if I could. I’ve tried, believe me.”

  The face of a human boy rose like a specter in her mind, his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream. He’d had such vivid blue eyes, like the color of the sky on a sunny winter morning. Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “I haven’t drunk human blood since I was a child.”

  She blinked and the image changed. The same beautiful eyes, no longer so vivid but glassy in death, his skin pale and waxy, one cheek smeared with a rivulet of blood. Saliva flooded her mouth.

  Annika swallowed hard and shoved the memory back into the darkness where it belonged. Twice she cleared her throat before she was able to speak. “The Na’Reish took great pleasure in locking me in a room with a human to watch me feed when hunger overwhelmed me. They thought it… amusing.”

  Disbelief and revulsion warred in the expression on Kalan’s face. The hot rush of familiar embarrassment streaked through her.

  “You promised to listen with an open mind.” With her heart pounding in her chest, it took every shred of strength she had to stand and face him instead of running away. “Do you think I liked what they did to me? They turned me into an animal. I hated them for it and I hated myself for letting them do that to me.”

  Unable to remember a time when she hadn’t had to justify her own existence, she avoided his gaze, too raw from the memories to let him see her humiliation, and laughed bitterly. “Their little game cured me for life. I swore never to drink human blood again. I abhor the practice.”

  “You don’t look like you’re starving.”

  His reply cut like a whip. Her temper flared. “That’s because I drink animal blood.” She’d been mocked for that, too. In the world of the Na’Reish, she was despised for drinking animal blood instead of human blood and the humans despised her for having to drink any blood at all. “I wouldn’t take your vein, human, even if I were dying.”

  “You’re part-demon.” His tone was flat, unconvinced.

  “So, you’re saying that the nature of the beast can’t be controlled?”

  “You weren’t able to stop yourself from attacking and feeding on a human.”

  “I was a child!” Her cheeks warmed even as she ordered herself not to react, not to show pain, or shame, or anger.

  All the taunting, the name calling, and beatings paled to the horror and loathing she’d felt once she’d come down from her blood-high and discovered the lifeless body of the blue-eyed boy lying on the ground next to her, his throat shredded and torn out. With her tears mingling with the blood smeared around her mouth, she’d
vowed never to drink human blood again, to die before letting herself become the animal she’d shown herself to be.

  Her body trembled. How many times had she relived that savage attack? Too many, and not enough. Never enough to atone for her weakness.

  “You can stay here if you want”—she forced the words past stiff lips—“but being caught by a Patrol is a certainty if you do.”

  Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode into the forest. Being born a half-blood wasn’t her fault. Her throat tightened. Would she ever find a place in this world where she felt at peace? Where no one judged her for who or what she was?

  Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy but even without it she’d have been able to find her way. Enhanced sight, inherited from her demon father. Yet another reason for Kalan to condemn and reject her.

  Why was she letting his attitude affect her so much? Both human and Na’Reish despised her. She’d suffered their hatred and disgust all her life. Why had she expected this human to be different?

  She blinked back tears. Perhaps because she had healed and then saved him. What did she have to do to make anyone value her beyond what her gifts could provide them?

  Without her, this human would be dead. Annika lifted her chin. She wouldn’t let him make her feel like the dirt under his feet. She was Na’Chi, and if he couldn’t see past his own fear of the Na’Reish then his preconceptions were his problem.

  The brisk night breeze whistled through the branches of the trees. She peered skyward to watch them sway and dance in the moonlight. Many in the fortress feared the forest, claiming it was too quiet, eerie in its stillness, but she loved it. She inhaled the pleasant, earthy odor of leaf litter carried on the night air, and allowed it to calm her frayed nerves. But with peace came the niggling of her conscience. Her steps slowed. She stopped in another clearing and closed her eyes.

  What if Kalan decided to strike off on his own? He’d eventually find a trail out of the valley but he knew nothing about the Na’Hord Patrols. He was a warrior, but unarmed he’d stand little chance against a pair of hunting Vorc. Free of their restraints and unleashed the vicious animals would kill a human on sight.

  Behind her a branch snapped, the sound crisp and sharp. Her nostrils flared. An earthy, spicy scent, heavy with salty sweat and the dampness of river water filled her lungs. A familiar bitter tinge of controlled fear underscored it.

  The human.

  “So red means you’re hungry.” Kalan’s deep, low-pitched voice came from one side of the clearing. “What does yellow mean?”

  The comment was an opening, even though he couldn’t quite manage a neutral tone, if she wanted to take it. He stood in the shadows of one of the trees, his arms folded, his stance wide, still wary.

  She mimicked his pose. “Why would I want to expose myself to your arrogant, narrow-minded attitude again?”

  The muscles along his shoulders bunched. His lips thinned along with his gaze. He took a deep breath, then another before inclining his head. “I deserved that.”

  The words were stilted, bitten off, grudgingly given but as close to an apology as she was going to get.

  “We need each other, Na’Chi.” His admission came from between clenched teeth.

  The idea of relying on someone who could barely stand her presence had her temper flaring again. She cast a quick glance at the forest. Three steps, that’s all it would take. Three steps and the darkness would conceal her. Without the benefit of night-sight, he wouldn’t be able to follow her, not with any speed.

  But what was she going to do once she left him? She couldn’t return to the fortress. She couldn’t enter human territory without his protection. That only left hiding in the forest. Surviving off the land was possible, but years of unending loneliness stretched before her. What sort of life would that be?

  Annika fixed her gaze on the Light Blade warrior once more. She wasn’t willing to concede anything yet. “Out here you need me, human.”

  A muscle in his cheek twitched. “And once we reach human territory, you’ll need me.” One eyebrow lifted. “Do we keep arguing until a Patrol hears us and the problem is resolved or will we begin cooperating as your friend Hesia encouraged us to do?”

  Just like that, he resurrected her long-sought-after dream.

  “Your eyes still have yellow flecks.” His reminder lacked subtlety. The last thing she wanted to do was to give him an advantage over her by answering him. He shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said and pivoted on his heel. “I’ll make it to the border without your help.”

  He was leaving her? As he reached the edge of the clearing he showed no signs of slowing. She licked dry lips and took a breath.

  “Yellow is fear.”

  He stopped. Her heart thudded so hard she could feel it against her ribs. When he turned back to her, his expression was slack with surprise. “You’re afraid of me?”

  “You’re the first Light Blade warrior I’ve met. You kill demons. How do you think I’d feel? If you’d had your sword a moment ago, would you have drawn it?”

  “You said you were hungry.”

  “There’s a lot of difference between hungry and starving.”

  “The Na’Reish aren’t known for curbing their impulses when they’re hungering for blood.”

  “I’m Na’Chi, not Na’Reish!” She bit back her anger, unable to refute the truth in his statement. Their conversation was rapidly deteriorating. Again. She wished Hesia were with her. She’d have handled this situation much better.

  Annika’s legs trembled as Kalan walked toward her and halted an arm’s length away.

  “Let’s stop bluffing one another.” Weariness leeched into the tone of his voice. “You’re the first Na’Chi I’ve met. With five hundred years of conflict between the Na’Reish and us, can you fault me for being wary of someone who has inherited their penchant for blood?”

  He had a point.

  “I’ll give you the same promise I gave your friend. I won’t harm you, if you don’t attack me.”

  Annika peered up at his shadowed face, looking for a flicker of deception. His scent remained the same but caution urged her to make sure. “Swear it by the Lady.”

  He frowned. “My word is my oath.”

  Hesia had always told her Light Blades would honor any oath they made but he’d already turned on her once. “Swear it by Her name. Now.”

  He stiffened as if offended. Too bad.

  “By the Lady I swear I won’t harm you if you don’t attack me.” Again his words were uttered from between clenched teeth. “Satisfied?”

  She gave a curt nod. “It’ll do.”

  “You mentioned Na’Hord Patrols earlier. We need to avoid them. Your night vision is better than mine. I almost broke my ankle following you in here.” His jaw flexed. “If you’d lead me through this forest I’d appreciate your help.”

  Kalan extended a large hand. She stared at it. Was this some trick? His expression was tight, angry, and he made no move to hide it from her even as the silence between them grew. She chewed her bottom lip.

  Trust has to start somewhere. Hesia’s wisdom echoed in her head.

  Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his. Her palm tingled as his warm skin touched hers. For the first time since fleeing the fortress, she felt hope and something more. He unsettled her in a way no other man or demon ever had.

  “There are some caves just ahead of us,” she said. “We can hide in them during the day when the Patrols or any other people from the fortress frequent the forest.”

  “How long will it take us to get there?”

  “An hour, perhaps a little more given the dark.”

  “Then lead on…”

  For the moment he seemed willing to trust her. The idea warmed her more than it should have. She pursed her lips. Perhaps tolerate was a better, safer word to use. The memory of too many years of being betrayed hovered at the back of her mind. And they still had to get out of Na’Reish territory unscat
hed.

  Would he abandon her once they reached the safety of the border? Hand her over to the humans at Whitewater Crossing? Kill her? Annika rolled her tense shoulders as she led the way through the trees.

  For now, they were allies. She’d guide them both to freedom. For now she’d trust him, but if he thought she’d be an easy mark later on, he’d discover his error soon enough.

  KALAN couldn’t recall how many times he stubbed his toes on tree roots or trod on rocks hidden beneath the debris littering the trail in the journey that followed but exhaustion dogged his every step. Time narrowed to putting one foot ahead of the other.

  The cold no longer mattered but the days spent in the dungeon had waged an exacting toll on his body. His muscles ached, despite Annika’s healing, yet he was determined not to complain. They needed to get away from the fortress. A day, maybe two, in his weakened state would see him at the boundary between Na’Reish and human territory.

  “There’s a log ahead of us.” Her soft voice drew him from his thoughts.

  He felt a change in their grip as he heard the quiet scrape of her dress brush over something rough. He’d given up straining his eyes trying to see his surroundings. The world had narrowed to shadowed forms and whatever his other senses could decipher. About waist height in front of him, he touched smooth bark.

  “If you sit down you’ll be able to swing your legs over more easily.”

  Being dependent on someone else was a humbling experience. He’d expected Annika to take advantage of his blindness, to punish him for his earlier attitude, but she hadn’t. And that went against everything he knew about her paternal heritage.

  Was that because of Hesia’s influence? Or was she planning something more devious?

  “Rest here.” She released her hold on his hand and, for a moment, he regretted the loss of her touch. There was a soft rasping sound as if she was looking in her pouch. “I see the river over to our right.” He heard the rushing sound of water over rocks. “I have a flask in here somewhere. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Kalan sighed wearily, content to rest on the log as she headed for the river. The night air was cold and still around him. The trek had left him warm but he knew they didn’t dare rest for too long. As she returned, Annika’s tread was deliberately heavy.