Dragon Horse War

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Dragon Horse War Page 6

by D. Jackson Leigh


  Her arm trapped against her back by Jael’s weight, the woman growled and dug sharp fingernails into Jael’s belly. With an answering growl, Jael bit hard at the base of the woman’s neck. She tasted salt and coconut as she tightened her teeth around the sweat-slicked flesh. And then, she released her.

  Tan, the seventh and last member of The Guard to arrive, turned onto her back beneath her, eyes flashing with understanding. She rolled her hips to reverse their positions and silently ripped open the closure of Jael’s shirt to bare her breasts. She didn’t hesitate, falling on Jael’s torso like a starved dog on food, licking and nipping her skin, sucking then biting her nipples as she worked her way down. She looked up a long second, then yanked Jael’s pants over her slim hips. Her mouth was hot and her attentions were not gentle. Jael’s body sang as hard teeth raked across the swell of her craving again. She grabbed a handful of Mohawk, and her body bowed with her climax as Tan’s mouth released the knife-like need that had been riding her since that first-life Advocate had stumbled onto her mountain. She jerked with the aftershock and blinked up at the cloudless sky. She was still wired, but the burn in her gut had retreated to a simmer. She took a deep breath. “Thanks, Tan.”

  Tan lifted off and crawled up to lie on her side. She propped up on her elbow to stare down at Jael. “That didn’t take long, eh? Whatever has you wound up must be important to have you that close to the edge.” Her eyes shone with anticipation.

  Jael sat up to pull her clothes back into order. “Do you—?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Just had a jump last night with a very energetic sub.” She grinned. “His girlfriend was a tasty side dish this morning.”

  “So that’s why we’re all waiting for you to get here?”

  “I’m here now.” She cocked an eyebrow. “And, since you took the time to waylay me, I’m guessing that nobody’s hanging from a cliff. What’s up?”

  Jael shook her head. “I’ll tell you when I have everyone together.” She stood and offered a hand to pull Tan to her feet. She studied her as they stood together. “That’s a fierce look you’ve got going there.”

  Tan’s grin was feral. “You like it?”

  “Mmm. Better than the shrunken heads you had dangling from your earlobes in the first lifetime I met you.”

  They walked to the trees, and Tan reached under the boughs of a spruce to retrieve her duffle. “Yes, well, shrunken heads have been frowned upon the last couple of lifetimes.”

  They paused to look back at Phyrrhos and Specter.

  “I hate many things about war—the women and children and old people who were caught in the crossfire when armies slaughtered each other,” Tan said quietly. She turned to Jael, her eyes searching. “But I miss some things about it, too. Is that wrong?”

  She didn’t have to spell it out. They all missed the blood that sang through their veins when the battlefield lay before them. They longed for the rush of battle lust that followed. They each needed the physical test of stealth and sparring and the mental challenge of hunt and strategy. Jael clasped Tan’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We are born warriors over many lifetimes for a reason. It is no shame to accept who you are.”

  Tan nodded and shouldered her bag as they started up the trail to Jael’s quarters. “How is it, by the way, that you always get the upper hand?”

  “Easy. You always fake three times, then attack on the fourth.”

  “Guess I need to revise that tactic.”

  “It would be advisable.”

  *

  Jael’s request had been a ploy to ditch her, Alyssa realized, when she went inside and found three men and a woman already sitting at the dining table. The empty pan in the middle of the table and the crumbs on their plates were a sure sign they’d had no trouble locating the food. Their conversation stopped and they eyed her suspiciously.

  She stared back.

  The woman was slender and had long, shining black hair. The reddish-brown hue of her skin could be First People, but a pureblood from those ancient native tribes was so rare these days, Alyssa couldn’t be sure.

  Two of the men also had black hair and dark features, but one was slender and handsome, with a deep-brown complexion. The other was lighter-skinned with rugged features. He was stocky with shoulder-length hair tied back at his nape and a goatee that he stroked as he stared at her.

  The third was an androgynous, smooth-faced man with mismatched eyes of blue and green, a soft blond crew cut, and a sparse beard over pale skin. A dark, angry burn scar rose from the collar of his tight T-shirt and stopped just short of his ear. He hunched over the table, his arms on either side of his plate as though he was trying to take up more space than his lean body required. Defensive and wary, he was the easiest to read but the hardest to decipher.

  The handsome man stood, his eyes flicking to her tattoo. “Advocate.” He gave a slight bow of respect. “I am Furcho. How might I be of service?”

  “Please, I’m not on duty at the temple. I’m Alyssa.” She moved farther into the room and smiled, sending out an emotion she hoped made her seem non-threatening. “Actually, Jael had asked me to let you know that Second had prepared food for you, but I see my assistance is unnecessary.”

  The stocky man scowled. “Where is Jael?”

  Furcho held up a hand to silence him. “Allow me to introduce my friends.” He indicated the woman. “This is Raven.” The woman smiled, but her eyes remained solemn as she nodded. Alyssa read her as curious but not guarded.

  “This is Diego,” he said as the stocky man stood and bowed slightly. “And our fair-skinned friend here is Michael.” Furcho shrugged when Michael briefly dipped his chin but did not smile or stand like the other men.

  “I’m honored to meet each of you,” Alyssa said. She was at a loss for what to do next but was rescued by Second flinging the door open, her boots loud on the wood floor.

  “Michael, Diego, and Raven. Firerocks are in the back of the transport. Let’s get them unloaded and stored,” she said without preamble. “I’ll bring in the groceries. Furcho, you’ve got kitchen duty.”

  Although Second’s tone was casual, the reaction was instant motion.

  “I’ll help,” Alyssa said, gathering dishes and following him into the prep.

  “Thank you, but you don’t need to clean up after us.”

  “Please, I want to help.” She began to fill the sink with soapy water and wash the dishes she’d brought into the prep.

  Furcho cleared the rest of the table, then flipped on the blower and passed each clean dish under it to dry it before he put it away. The loud hum prevented any further conversation, and when they were done, Second was putting fresh vegetables away in the storage.

  “Is Jael still upstairs?” she asked.

  Furcho shrugged, but Alyssa shook her head. “She said she was going to meet whoever isn’t here yet.”

  “Good. Jael was pretty grumpy this morning. Hopefully she’ll let Tan take some of her edge off before they show up,” Second said.

  Furcho coughed and glanced at Alyssa. She hadn’t thought much about the remark, but his reaction gave her a pretty good idea of what Second was insinuating.

  “I wasn’t raised in the temple because of some pious vow to The Collective. It was because—” She stopped, feeling irrationally irritated. She glared at them. “I’m not that kind of Advocate.” She snatched the plug out to drain the sink and stomped out onto the deck.

  She stared out over the mountains, not really seeing them. She would always be grateful that Advocate Han had saved her, but she hated that the tattoo on her face caused people to make certain assumptions about her. She stopped short of explaining that she was an empath because that always triggered a different round of assumptions. Even here among other talents—if they were like Jael, they must have some special powers—she didn’t fit in.

  Furcho surely didn’t mean to offend her, but stars above, it still prickled at her. At least something was prickling at her. She rubbed h
er temple. Maybe it was her headache from last night returning. She propped her forearms on the railing and looked down. A wave of dizziness swamped her and she gripped the rail. She started to shake and almost dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the railing. If she closed her eyes to stop the vertigo or let go of the banister to move back, she had an overwhelming fear that she would lose her balance and tumble off the deck. She was trapped. She was working up the courage to drop to the floor and crawl back to the door when warm arms closed around her.

  “I’ve gotcha.” The voice in her ear—or maybe in her head—was low and rich, and she latched onto it.

  “I…I can’t let go of the railing.”

  Long fingers closed around her hands and gently pried them from the wood to fold her arms against her chest. The arms tightened around her, and she pressed back against the solid body behind her.

  “Let’s take a step back. Right foot. Ready?”

  She nodded wordlessly and tentatively stepped back.

  “Other foot.”

  They stepped back again, and she sagged in relief when the boards of the floor appeared in her vision and the world stopped spinning. Her eyes slammed shut when the vertigo was instantly replaced by a pounding headache that made her stomach lurch. “I don’t feel so good.” Stars, please don’t throw up. She’d already made an idiot of herself.

  “She okay?”

  She recognized Second’s voice, but she didn’t have to open her eyes to know her rescuer was Jael. Her very presence was an anchor in what felt like a churning sea. An arm behind her knees lifted her, and she pressed her face into the shoulder that cradled her. Pain, sharp and stabbing, tore at her temples, and she unsuccessfully choked back a whimper.

  “She had an attack of vertigo. She hit her head pretty hard yesterday. It may be related to that. Hold the door for me and tell Tan to get the medical case and meet me in the bedroom.”

  “On the left,” Second said. “I moved her into our…into my room.”

  She knew she wasn’t a feather, but Jael carried her like she weighed nothing. She felt them climbing the stairs, but she didn’t open her eyes, afraid another stab of pain would empty her stomach for sure. The bed was soft and blissfully cool.

  “Darken the windows,” Jael said.

  “I’ve got it.” Second again.

  Gentle hands slid a cold pack behind her neck, and after a minute she tentatively opened her eyes. Just a crack. The light was thankfully dim and defused. She opened them a little more. The ice was already numbing sharp edges of her headache. So she looked up…and screamed.

  Pain seared through her, and she gave herself to the hands that were guiding her to hang over the edge of the bed. Tears filled her eyes as she retched, but she was relieved at the watery image of the bucket someone had the foresight to put there.

  “Balls, Tan. Go wash that paint off your face,” Second said. “You scared her half to death.”

  The bed dipped as Jael sat next to her and stroked her back. When she’d finally stopped heaving, she realized two pairs of legs stood within her vision. Was everybody watching her throw up? She spit into the bucket. “This really isn’t a spectator sport,” she mumbled weakly. A bottle of water appeared in her view.

  “Rinse and spit, eh? Sorry about the scare.”

  She complied and rolled back to lie on the bed. She closed her eyes for a minute, and when she felt the ice pack slide behind her neck again, she tentatively cracked one eyelid…then the other when concerned blue eyes filled her vision. Relief flooded her. Was it hers or Jael’s?

  “Better?” Jael said softly.

  “Yes.” She realized she was clutching Jael’s hand. She was sure that was what kept the room from spinning.

  “Fresh bucket,” Second said. “I’ll empty this one.” The door closed with a soft click.

  Jael’s smile was reassuring. “That wasn’t a nightmare. It was just Tan. She only looks like one.”

  “To each her own, eh.”

  Alyssa dragged her eyes from the mesmerizing blue gaze and blinked at the tall, brown woman with a Mohawk and a freshly scrubbed face. Small silver hoops, each holding several small turquoise beads, hung from her earlobes.

  “Despite her unique choice of face paint and hairstyle, she’s a licensed physician,” Jael said.

  “A physician who needs you to move if I’m going to examine the patient.”

  But Alyssa clung to her hand. “Don’t let go. The room will start spinning again.”

  Jael’s brow furrowed, and then she crawled over Alyssa without releasing her hand.

  Tan sat where Jael had been and held up a pressure cuff. “Do you think you could let her hold the other hand? I need this arm.”

  She let go when she felt Jael grasp her other hand, and Tan slipped the cuff around her bicep. While it read her pressure, Tan took her pulse, then produced a small light. “Bear with me. I’ll be quick.”

  She’d forgotten about the pressure point in her wrist until Jael’s thumb pressed hard against it as Tan flicked the light across her eyes to test her pupil reaction. Tan sat back and removed the cuff after reading it, then began to type some notes into her IC. Alyssa closed her eyes and realized Jael had let up the pressure, her thumb absently stroking her wrist. Alyssa tried to focus on the warm hand and gentle stroking instead of the pounding in her head. Then a scene appeared in her head of a mountainside in the autumn. Leaves, splashes of yellow, red, and gold waved in a refreshingly cold breeze she could almost feel on her face, and she realized it was Jael in her head.

  “You talk in pictures,” she murmured, giving herself over to the serenity of the scene. It was like an ice pack inside her head, dulling the pain. “Thank you for not thinking of the ocean. I don’t think my stomach could take that.”

  She heard Tan chuckle, then something cold pressed against the vein in the crook of her elbow, followed by the hiss of a hypospray.

  “I think the vertigo is an aftereffect from yesterday’s blow to your head,” Tan said. Her low, rich alto burred in Alyssa’s ears as whatever was in the hypospray began to work. “I don’t have a scanner with me, but your reflexes are fine. I’ve given you something for the pain and nausea. It will make you sleep, but rest is what you really need.”

  Her eyes were heavy and she struggled to stay awake. Was Jael still there? If she could just move her lips. She couldn’t get her tongue to work right.

  “What is it?”

  The voice was close to her ear. She sucked in a breath, and the scent of woods and pine and sunlight flooded her dulled senses. “Portal.” She said that out loud, didn’t she?

  “We’ll talk after you rest. I promise.”

  She wanted to nod, but her body was too relaxed. The last sensation before she sank into a thankfully painless sleep was of unusually warm fingers stroking her cheek.

  Chapter Seven

  “The Calling has been issued.”

  They stared at Jael. She didn’t have to read their thoughts; their faces were enough. Second was already ticking off a mental list of what had to be done. Tan’s eyes burned bright at the promise of battle. Raven’s expression was sharp, but she would hear this council before reacting. Michael’s nod affirmed his commitment to duty. Diego was incredulous.

  Furcho, his body young but his soul almost as old as hers, was solemn and resigned. “Then let us sit,” he said. “If it’s done, then there is nothing for us to do but answer it.”

  They took their seats around the strategy table with Jael at the head. Although the tabletop was a paper world map protected by a thick plate of glass, it was purely decorative. Jael entered a series of codes in an embedded keyboard at the end of the table, and a hologram of the same map projected upright along the table’s length.

  The Calling has been issued for the Third and Fourth Continents. The threat is not yet detected on the others.”

  “How has this happened?” Diego looked around the table. “We have guarded our sectors for more than a hundred years without f
ail.” He glared at Michael, the youngest soul among them. “Have you lost track of your badly born already, sparkler?”

  Michael flushed a deep red, his mismatched eyes hard and defiant. He opened his mouth to respond to the insinuation he was not as skilled as the others, but Tan intervened.

  “Maybe it was me who wasn’t paying attention.” She stared Diego down. “You got something to say about that, you old chunk of charcoal?”

  Jael slammed her hand on the table and roared. “Enough.” They were a unit. If they were attacking each other from the onset, they’d never succeed in leading an army. “It doesn’t matter—”

  “I am responsible.” Furcho’s calm voice sliced through the rising tension. He looked to Jael, and she gave a slight nod to confirm what she knew he suspected. “We’ve had several natural disasters in my sector. The last was at my base. The rain had been persistent since the first of the year, and the mountain gave way. Half the city was buried, and we spent weeks digging out the dead so their souls could be properly released. A badly born on my watch lost his son. His mate came to me later with news that he had disappeared.” He looked around the room before meeting Jael’s eyes again. “If I’d broken off to give chase to this one man, many more would be badly born.”

  “Protocol mandates that you request assistance.” Second’s tone was a question rather than reprimand.

  Furcho nodded once in agreement with her words. “I sent an urgent d-message to Jael.”

  Jael closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There it was. The blame ultimately rested on her shoulders. She opened her eyes and met theirs. “I never received it. I knew sunspots had been interrupting the network. I should have been checking in with each of you telepathically at consistent intervals.”

  “It is what it will be.” Raven rarely spoke out among their group. When she did, her words were chosen carefully and full of wisdom. Everyone listened. “There is no blame in things that are destined, and we have all known for many lifetimes that this Calling is our destiny.”

 

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