She held her hand palm up before her face and focused on creating a dark flame. Her palm tingled, but she couldn’t summon the destructive fire that normally came so naturally to her. She continued to focus with ruthless intensity, sweat sprouting across her brow, her muscles aching from the effort. Finally, a weak flame burst to life in her hand and the warmth, the connection she’d felt to the raven, disappeared.
She closed her hand, extinguishing the flame, and began working on a new illusion. Symbols and ruins formed in her mind, a carefully crafted spell she’d perfected as a child. She whispered ancient words of power under her breath, slipping the last of her magical energy into the spell and, when she opened her eyes a second time and cautiously glanced into the puddle, hazel irises reflected back at her.
She stood carefully, swaying momentarily on her feet before regaining her balance. She stretched, her ropey muscles lengthening and contracting with almost mechanical precision. The physicality of the movements helped recenter her, calming the wrath of the warring Blue Sight and destruction magics flooding her body. Soon all that was left was the ice-cold emptiness she’d developed in childhood.
She leaned her weight over one foot, looming over the street like a gargoyle guarding its perch. The men she’d been watching had disappeared, but it didn’t matter. She knew where the Circle was now. She wouldn’t lose sight of them again.
Her lips curled away from her teeth as anger replaced the empathy she’d felt for the raven. Her mind spun, plotting and strategizing as lightning-fast as a military general. She couldn’t attack anyone outright, but she needed a kill tonight.
She waited for over an hour, weighing the risk of leasing a room for the night in the same inn as the Circle, when two of the Circle’s men exited, stumbling drunkenly into the night.
With a flick of her cloak, Adrian ran for the edge of the shop and leapt to the ground, landing with a thud in a back alley and throwing her weight forward into a somersault to absorb the blow. She rolled to her feet in a single, swift movement. She fixed her hood over her silver hair and continued out onto the street.
She followed the drunken Circle raiders, staying far enough back not to catch their attention, waiting for them to turn down a dark alley or stumble outside city limits. She fingered the hilt of a dagger in her long sleeve, her hands arching to throw it. She grinned as the men tripped to the side, ducking between a closed bakery and a butcher’s shop.
She raced forward, drawing her knife as she rounded the corner after them, keeping close against the wall, using her returning illusion magic to blend in with the shadows. She needed to move completely unseen, silence them before they could cry out,.
One man supported his friend as he vomited on the dirt path. Adrian stalked forward toward the standing marauder, a surge of excitement setting every nerve on fire with each step. She raised her knife, aiming to slit his throat, when the sharp thud of a boot striking stone echoed through the alley.
“You’ve strayed too far from the inn.”
A sharp female voice dripping with disdain reverberated through the alley. Adrian immediately ducked back into the shadows. A small woman strode forward, her hood thrown back behind cropped dark gold curls. She crossed her arms over her chest, her body hugged neck to toe in traveler’s leathers, revealing the lines of a half dozen weapons. Adrian arched a single silver brow, feeling a heat in her stomach she hadn’t felt since beginning her travels.
“You’re not our guardian in town, Rox,” the sick marauder garbled.
“Calder’s orders. Or do you have to be reminded of what happened to Gryert?”
“You said we’re not being followed.”
Rox’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “There are more threats than assassins.”
The standing marauder helped his friend to his feet. “Like Gryert’s ghost.”
Rox growled low under her breath, the sound more animal than human. “There’s no ghost haunting the Circle.”
“Tell that to Gryert.”
Adrian felt a rush of pleasure at the look of fear in the raider’s eyes. A ghost. It wouldn’t be the first time the comparison had been made, especially as Adrian stood shrouded in shadow. She liked the thought that the Circle was haunted enough by Gryert’s death to fear her even when they were safe from her blade. It would certainly make killing them easier if the deaths were blamed on the supernatural.
Rox stood with her hands on her hips, every inch of her petite frame emanating frustration. “Just get back to the inn.”
The men stumbled out of the alley, Rox traveling behind to guard their rear. Adrian watched them go, her stomach sinking. She wasn’t likely to find more wandering Circle men with Rox keeping them in the inn.
Adrian grunted in frustration, her entire body aching for the kill, for movement, for action. Thinking of Rox, her taut curves hugged with leather, her eyes burning with confidence, only made the ache worse. Her wrist burned and she held it through her sleeve, her vice-like grip extinguishing the sensation.
Adrian swore under her breath and strode back onto to the main street through town, blending in with the handful of villagers still out for the night and the closed merchant stalls. Her head buzzed, the events of the night clouding her thoughts in a haze of desire and magic. She followed Rox and the Circle members back to the inn, careful to remain as unobtrusive and unremarkable as possible.
The inn was bustling with both locals and the Circle, the crowd so thick Adrian could slide into a corner seat near the kitchens without even the innkeeper noticing. The kitchen had been closed for the night, only tankards of ale flowed past the bar as patrons threw dice and told stories beside a small log fire.
The room was coated in grime, coal dust permanently infused in every plank of wood, every stone. It wasn’t an issue of cleanliness. The inn could be scoured hourly and still garner a thick layer of soot within minutes. Adrian was thankful for the residue, which clung to her cloak and coated her gloves. It helped her blend in with the burly workers relaxing with a drink before heading back into the mines.
Adrian leaned back in her chair, her hood pulled up just far enough to hide her hair, and studied her prey. There were just over a dozen Circle members scattered throughout the inn, only a portion of the full party. They had likely splintered into different inns to avoid suspicion.
Adrian’s eyes wandered to Rox, undoubtedly tied to the Circle but her distaste of the raiders obvious even without Blue Sight intuition. A water ferret scurried out of the folds of Rox’s cloak, circling her arms and hands as Rox chased it with her fingers. Adrian couldn’t help but look the smaller woman over and wonder what could bind such a women to the most vicious, deadly party to leave the Core since its inception.
“Anything to drink tonight, traveler?”
Adrian glanced up at a curvaceous blond waitress, her hair rippling past her bare shoulders. She had no connection or knowledge of the Circle or its activities. Adrian smiled slowly, taking in her slightly tanned skin, a permanent mark from the sun that betrayed a genetic connection to the Amazons.
Adrian leaned forward on her elbows, brazenly looking the woman over from head to toe, her face intentionally angled toward the light to reveal her features. She could sense the woman’s interest as she cautiously scanned Adrian’s narrow face, her ropey frame. Adrian grinned lightly. Perhaps there was more Amazon in this woman than just her skin.
“I’m not interested in drinks… what was your name?”
The woman blushed lightly, clasping her hands before her waist, her eyes flashing mischief. “Mary. And you are?”
“Only here for the night.”
Adrian reached out, placing a single hand lightly on Mary’s entwined fingers. Excitement sparked in her stomach, growing as quickly as her restlessness as the touch had no effect on her: no burning skin, no Blue Sight bonding. Mary would be the perfect distraction. “How late do you work tonight, Min?”
Mary glanced nervously over her shoulder, scanning the bar and kitchens
for who Adrian assumed to be her father. With a swift, inconspicuous motion Mary slid a small key across the table. Adrian immediately rested her hand over it, hiding it from view. “My room’s in the attic. I get off on the hour.”
Mary strode away without another word, mingling with the other patrons in the common room. Adrian leaned back in her chair, her hood falling lower over her face, a triumphant smile turning the corners of her lips. Mary moved with a familiar confidence through the crowd, taking their drunken advances and unintelligible orders with ease. Adrian lingered over the lines of her body, the swells and curves so rare in the women of the north.
She ran her fingers over the lines of Mary’s key, her attention wandering to other corners of the inn, counting every Circle member mingling and drinking around her, oblivious to her presence. She felt bloodlust, hot and all-consuming swelling beneath her skin as she imagined burying her knife in every one of the thugs from the Core. Her cheeks darkened as she imagined how enraged the Twins would be, losing their precious band of vandals and murderers.
Adrian felt a sharp pain at her shin and glanced down in surprise. A sleek water ferret had crawled under the table and nipped her leg just above the cuff of her boot. She scowled and nudged it away, its tiny claws skittering across the stone floor as it fought to stay under the table. Adrian snarled under her breath as she continued to ward off the creature, the tip of her boot bobbing and parrying like a sword as the creature savaged her leather shoe with tiny claws and teeth.
“Fisk!”
The terse command cut through the noise of the inn like a knife. The ferret instantly froze, rearing up onto its hind legs, revealing patches of luminous deep green and aqua scales along its belly. Adrian glanced up at Rox, sitting in the opposite corner with her feet propped on the table, her glare locked on the ferret. She snapped and the creature raced back toward her, scaling her leg, spiraling up her torso and ducking into the folds of her hood like a burrow.
Rox didn’t acknowledge Adrian, simply returned to her drink. Adrian found herself, once again, captivated by the woman’s presence. She wasn’t Adrian’s usual type, lean and rough around the edges, but she suddenly found herself wishing it was Rox’s key clenched in her fist. Adrian wondered what she was doing with the Circle. She clearly detested the Circle she traveled with and the Twins rarely ever employed women, let alone women who were so physically unimposing. Still, no mala’ would have such fire in her eyes or be as brazen as Rox had been with the drunk marauders before. She was likely a guide or a magician. Adrian wondered with a brief sinking feeling if she’d ever have to kill Rox.
Mary passed in front of Adrian’s table as she stepped back into the kitchens, returning shortly without her apron or dishes.
“I’m going to bed, Da’,” she called to the bar. The burly blond barkeep nodded to his daughter with an affectionate smile and Mary strolled up the stairs to the higher levels of the inn.
Adrian waited until the barkeep’s attention had returned to his customers before standing and slowly following Mary up the worn wooden stairs. She passed a long hallway of hostel-style rooms lined with bunks and cots until she found a narrow, angled staircase leading up to the attic. She focused on a series of illusion spells, running her hands through her silver hair, darkening it to a pale gold before unlocking Mary’s door and stepping inside.
The room was cloaked in darkness, heavy curtains drawn over the only windows, edged in moonlight leaking through the edges of the tattered material. She tensed, instinctively crouching into a fighting stance as she tuned her other senses on searching for a trap.
A single candle flared to life on the opposite end of the room, releasing a single, sharp scent of ash and flame, creating dark gold pools of light across a carved wooden night table and a narrow bed dressed with thick, hand-stitched quilts. Mary stood leaning back against the wall along the edge of the candle’s light, her corset and overskirt already on the floor. The flames cast rippling shadows across her woven linen chemise and the bare skin of her collar, arms and legs. Her body was a textured map of peaks and deep valleys. Adrian ran her tongue over the inside of her lip, already hungry.
Mary looked Adrian over, her amarin whispering of lust, fear, and excitement. Adrian blinked, distancing herself from Mary’s emotions. “I’m glad you came.”
Adrian loosened her cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Mary made a soft sound of appreciation as Adrian’s face and frame were revealed unhindered by the cloak.
Adrian didn’t wait for further invitation. She pulled Mary close, kissing her rough and deep as Mary melted against her. Adrian lost herself in Mary’s softness, her scent like cream and fresh bread, her hair like strands of silk. She hadn’t had anything so warm, so sweet, since being banished from the Core. For a moment the energy she reserved for death shifted to passion, her restlessness sated with lust.
Mary gasped, the sound ragged with desire as Adrian nipped and kissed down the lines of her neck and collar toward the curve of her breasts, her hands tugging and shifting at linen in search of bare skin.
Mary wrapped a leg around her hips and an image of Rox suddenly flashed through Adrian’s mind. She paused in shock, pushing the other woman from her thoughts.
Mary’s lips trembled with desire, her skin like caramel under Adrian’s hands, now dark with lust. “Who are you?”
Adrian led her to the bed, laying her back as her teeth tugged at the laces of Mary’s chemise. “Does it matter?”
Mary pulled Adrian’s shirt over her head and kissed her again. “No.”
Adrian woke as dawn bled around Mary’s curtains, leaking sunlight into the attic apartment. Mary slept beside her, tangled in quilts, a woven tapestry of skin and cloth, her hair fanned out across the pillows and Adrian’s chest. Adrian sat up slowly, trying not to wake Mary as she climbed out of bed in search of her clothes.
“Going so soon?”
Adrian turned as she pulled her pants back over her hips and tied them close. Mary leaned up, resting on her elbows, her hair a tangled mass running down her shoulders and back. Adrian smirked appreciatively at the sight. Her restlessness was already returning, but for a few hours in the night she had been calm and centered, drowning in passion instead of death. “I have errands to run.”
Mary pouted. Adrian grinned and rushed to her side, leaning over her and kissing her gently, the kiss deepening as Mary pulled her down toward the bed. Adrian grunted and pulled away, “I really do have to go.”
Adrian searched for her shirt, spotting it beneath the end table. “I never noticed your tattoo before.” Adrian froze, glancing down at the small outline of a stone on her inner arm. It wasn’t a tattoo. “My cousin was a Blue Sight. She never understood why people tattoo a lifestone mark on their wrists. Do you think it’s romantic?”
Adrian pulled her shirt over her head, hiding the mark. “It was a foolish mistake in my youth.”
“She was always afraid of being bonded. Meeting a stranger and suddenly being tied to them for life? It’s terrifying.”
“It keeps Blue Sights safe from the Plague. It’s evolution.”
“It’s genetic slavery,” Mary grunted.
Adrian held her arm through her sleeve. Her stomach twisted. “Only if a Blue Sight comes into contact with their bondmate.” Adrian pulled her boots on and stood, grabbing her cloak and pulling it over her shoulders. “I have to go.”
Mary climbed out of bed and pulled Adrian into her arms. “Did I offend you?”
Adrian kissed her, savoring the sensation. “No. You were just what I needed.”
Adrian released her and left the room, descending the attic stairs back toward the common room. She glanced into the hostel rooms as she traveled, a knot untangling in her stomach as she spotted a half dozen unconscious Circle members draped over the cots and bunks.
In the last room before the stairs to the common room, Adrian spotted Rox asleep sitting up in the corner, cocooned in a wool blanket. Adrian paused, watching the older woman sleep, on
e hand over the lifestone mark on her wrist. She contemplated entering the room, studying her more closely when her blanket bounced and Fisk popped his head out, watching Adrian with bared teeth. Adrian scowled. She didn’t need to be discovered by the Circle because of an angry ferret.
She headed back down the stairs toward the common room and with a few whispered phrases she was shrouded again in shadow.
Chapter Six
Rox stared at a bramble bush, watching a collection of bumble bees dance across the small white and pink blossoms. She lay on her bedmat, an arm propped under her head, the ground rough and sharp. Fisk rested in the cradle of her side, his head propped on her hip, his weight comforting. In the distance she could hear the screams, smell the smoke rising over the nearby hills. She focused more intensely on the bees, dancing and spinning over the flowers, oblivious to the nearby destruction. She willed her mind to join them, leaping from plant to plant, nothing weighing on her mind but pollen and honey.
A woman’s piercing, strangled scream shattered through the noise of the raid to be immediately silenced. Rox clenched her jaw, her fists curled into hard fists. She refused to take part in the Circle’s raids, but she was no less accountable for their actions. She protected them, even guided them when their maps proved inaccurate. It might as well be her dagger that had silenced the woman’s cries. But there was no other option. No choice. She needed to be paid.
The pound of hooves echoed through the brush, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Circle members had been traveling back and forth between town and the camp all day to offload plunder. Rox didn’t move as a band of a half dozen men returned, their horses weighed down with money, antiques and other valuables.
Sands of Aggar: Amazons of Aggar Book 3 Page 6