Teasing Danger

by Autumn Dawn

  “Bossy, aren’t you?” she teased, turning her face into him and rubbing her head against his chest, which was covered in a dark green silk shirt and not his uniform vest for once. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” She affected a lofty tone. “Yesande wouldn’t dare tangle with me again. After all, I thrashed her so badly the last time we met that she wouldn’t risk the humiliation of a rematch.”

  Keilor snorted in amusement, and Mathin raised a brow, looking at her askance, “And which time was this?” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he shook his head, chuckling. He rotated the shish kebabs, and the fire snapped and sizzled as their fats and juices dripped into its flames.

  “Do you ever miss your world?”

  Jasmine looked at Leo, surprised by the sudden question. “Why?”

  Leo shrugged. “You gave up a great deal to stay here. I was wondering if you have regrets.”

  “Hmm...I haven’t really thought about it, so I guess not.”

  Leo frowned and poked a stick at the fire, raising sparks. “There must be something that you regret leaving.”

  Smiling, Jasmine snuggled deeper into Keilor’s arms. “Nothing worth giving up this. Believe me, I’ve got the better end of the bargain.”

  Leo grunted, unconvinced. “I don’t care much for the swamps, but I wouldn’t leave my family just to be with a man. We need every Ronin we can spare to take back our homelands from the beasts. Besides, I just can’t see leaving my people.”

  “You still have that choice. After all, you’re not in love. I would have thought the same thing if I’d been asked before being yanked into the Dark Lands, but I would’ve come anyway if I’d thought I was needed.” Jasmine paused a moment, watching the fire. “Love isn’t something that’s easy to resist. Sometimes it’s a pull stronger than the fear of the unknown.”

  Mathin slanted a glance at Leo, and she quickly looked away, scowling. “I’d just as soon avoid it.”

  Jasmine laughed and chanted, “Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man.” When the others looked to her for an explanation, she dismissed it with an airy wave, “It’s nothing, just an old nursery tale. Are those done, yet, Mathin?”

  They were, and he distributed the skewers, adding more to the grill as he munched with one hand.

  “What I want to know is, now that you’ve gotten what you really came for—help ending the kidnappings—are you guys still going to keep to your trade agreements?” Jasmine asked after she’d finished her first shish kabob. “It’s still worthwhile, isn’t it?”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, with neither side wishing to speak first. Finally Keilor said with caution, “I would not be adverse to trade, provided the Ronin are still willing.”

  Jackson studied his denuded skewer. “We might be willing, on a trial basis, and on a much smaller scale than originally agreed upon.” He slid a wary gaze to Mathin. “We would require that all transactions occur at this citadel, however. The swamps are difficult at best to penetrate without a symbiont, dangerous at worst. We would not like to be responsible for any casualties.”

  Jasmine grunted. “No offense, but you can have your swamps. I, for one, will die happy if I never have to see them again.”

  Her words lightened what had essentially been a warning against trespassing, and Keilor relaxed behind her. “I think we can handle that, provided that you leave a permanent agent here to deal with any business that may come up. Preferably someone capable of acting as an ambassador, as well.”

  For the first time that evening, Ma-at spoke up. “I am willing.”

  “I need you at home, Ma-at. You’re too valuable to me to leave behind,” Jackson objected. “It would have to be someone else.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  Jackson glowered at his sister. “You are too young.”

  “I am twenty-four,” Leo gritted out. “Hardly a child.”

  “Hail the elder,” Jackson retorted with a sitting half-bow. “Sorry, white-hair, but you’ll be going with us. I can’t spare the men to watch over you.”

  “Jasmine is my age, and look what she has done. Perhaps certain offices call for youth and flexibility,” she contended, setting her jaw.

  “She has a point,” Ma-at interrupted, interrupting what looked to be the beginnings of a royal argument with the ease of long practice. “I can stay with her, as well as two or three of the others. Besides, if she were back home, you’d only waste your energies finding things to fight about. Apart, you may actually get something useful done for the rest of us.”

  “We would not like to see her get hurt,” Keilor assured him. “If you chose to let her stay, we will watch over her as well. You have my word.”

  There was nothing Jackson could say to that without giving offense. Instead he said in a tone that brooked no argument, “We will talk about it later.”

  It must have been a doozy of a talk, because when Jasmine next saw Leo, she was not happy. In fact, she was quietly simmering. She tried to discuss it with Keilor, but he had concerns of his own.

  “Whether she goes or stays matters little at this point,” he said, leveling a stare at his wife across the dining table in their new suite of rooms. “What I want to know is, when are you going to start visiting Rihlia again? It’s been weeks, and still you two do not speak unless thrown together.”

  All appetite abruptly fled. Jasmine twiddled her spoon as if fascinated with the play of light on it. “She hasn’t been feeling well.”

  “All the more reason to visit. You can cheer her up.”

  She squirmed. “Keilor....”

  He set down his cup of cinnamon tea with a sharp click. “What should you have done, Jasmine? Allowed Rhapsody to kill you? Would that have made Rihlia happier, do you think? I swear I am sick to death of this foolish dance you two are having. Do something! Scream, yell, fight about it if you must, but get it over with. Jayems and I have had enough!”

  Jasmine tossed down her spoon. “What do you recommend I say to her, huh? ‘Gee, fine weather we’re having today. You’re looking well in spite of the dark circles under your eyes and that nasty pallor. Oh, and by the way, I’m so sorry that I killed your mother!’” Her voice rose to a near shout at the end, and she shoved her chair away from the table, hurrying down the three steps from dining level to sunken living area. She plopped down onto an overstuffed chair of blue on blue.

  Keilor pried her fingertips away from her forehead and held her hands as he knelt before her. “We all do what we have to sometimes, my love. For myself, I am glad that you are still whole, still safely carrying our baby. You were willing to cross worlds for her, could she not cross this barrier for you?”

  In spite of Keilor’s assurances, Jasmine did not go easily into the lion’s den. He had to all but drag her to Jayems’ suite and deposit her inside Rihlia’s room.

  He and Jayems stared at the closed door. When no one came bolting out of it immediately, they exchanged a wary glance. “How is it on your end today?” Keilor inquired.

  A muffled shout came from behind the door, and Jayems answered, somewhat distracted, “She grows more depressed and miserable each day. If I see one more tear I may have to run and hide.”

  Swearing, foul and loud, issued from the door. “I hope that’s your wife,” Keilor murmured. “I’d hate to think that my own woman could out-swear the entire garrison.”

  “It’s mine,” Jayems said with a scowl as a particularly forceful word drifted out, followed by a rapid spate of invectives and denials. “That’s one of her favorite words when she’s either angry at me or for me.” A slight grin tugged at his mouth. “But stormed if I know half the phrases that your wife is answering her with.”

  Keilor just glowered. He would have a talk with his wife later about her foul tongue.

  Silence descended. Keilor caught himself straining to catch a hint of conversation and shook his head in disgust. “Come on,” he said, clapping Jayems on the shoulder. “We would be better off other
wise occupied. Let’s look over the Ronin trade proposal. I understand that they have prismatic silver....”

  Jasmine crossed her arms and waited with grim forbearance, her back to Rihlia. She needed a moment to rein in her temper, and to steel herself against her friend’s temper. From experience she knew that Rihlia would be a real witch until she’d exhausted her emotion...only then would the real issues surface.

  As they did now.

  “I never did love her.”

  Jasmine turned around and stared at her remorseful friend. That was what was bothering her? Guilt over a lack of affection for her mother?

  “I wanted to blame you for taking her away before I could find some feelings for her. It was childish, I know, but what kind of a monster doesn’t love her own mother? I didn’t want it to be my fault.”

  Shaking her head, Jasmine approached the bed. “I don’t love my mother,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I even hate her. Then I hate myself for caring at all.”

  “That’s different. Your mother—”

  “Oh, stop with the guilt trip!” Jasmine snapped, dumping herself down into a chair. “You barely knew the woman. Then when you did finally get to know her, she came on too strong, making you want to retreat, not open up. I’d have done the same thing. Besides,” she looked away. “Look how she turned out.”

  A shaky sigh came from the bed. “Jayems thinks that there’s this drug—”

  “Drug, smrug. No chemical would put the hate that I saw in her eyes,” she retorted, chopping her hand through the air, unable to hide the strain she felt. “I gave her every chance I could to stop, Rih, I swear to you. I did not want to hurt your mother, and I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I know,” Rihlia whispered.

  Jasmine closed her eyes. “It’s still so vivid. All that red against all that white. Warm, sticky blood on my hands, drying on my face.” She shuddered. “God.” It was a prayer and a plea for forgiveness all in one. “I didn’t want to do it. I really didn’t want to do it.”

  “It’s ok, Jas.” Rihlia touched her hand, gripped it. “It’s all right.”

  Jasmine wasn’t sure of that. This was a big thing for even their friendship to overcome. Even if Rihlia hadn’t been able to care for her mother the way she’d wanted to, she must have felt something.

  “I didn’t,” she answered, reading Jasmine’s mind in the way of long-standing friends. “I’m not sorry that you defended yourself, and I’m not sorry that it’s you who lived and not her.” Her voice gained strength and she gripped Jasmine’s hand harder. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, kid. You deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

  A slight smile tugged at Jasmine’s mouth. “Who are you calling kid, old lady? Surely you’re not ready for the old folk’s home just yet.”

  Rihlia frowned with mock severity. “I will be if you don’t stop scaring the crap out of me.”

  “Ah, you’re just feeling feeble from lying around in bed all the time. Why don’t you get up and take a walk with me? It’ll do you good.”

  Rihlia’s smile faded to seriousness, and she let go of Jasmine’s hand. “Can’t. I, uh...I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

  “What!” Jasmine stared at Rihlia’s lower half in shock. It was covered with blankets. “I...how—”

  “Now don’t panic, it’s only temporary, the medics said. Just until after I have the baby and my body can start working on repairing me. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  “But—”

  Rihlia threw up her hands in a warding gesture. “Hey, I’m an alien, remember? We can do all kinds of freaky stuff.” She smiled in assurance. “Even heal a broken back.”

  Biting her lip, Jasmine eyed her. “Hey, don’t be getting all cocky on me, now. I’m pretty impressive myself these days, thanks to this little guy.” She waved one hand, drawing attention to her symbiont.

  “You still can’t see in the dark,” Rihlia said with a smug smile.

  “Maybe, but I don’t sprout hair when the moon is full, either,” Jasmine laughed as her friend scowled. “It’s good to have you back, Rih,” she said with heartfelt joy. Rihlia raised her hand, and Jasmine clasped it, palm to palm, as tears sparkled in their eyes.

  “This is a very good thing,” Rihlia whispered, her voice hoarse. “A very good thing.”

  Keilor and Jayems both shot to their feet as Jasmine closed the door behind her. Her amused smile told them all they needed to know. “What is this? Two big bad wolves anxious over a minor womanly dispute? What will your friends think?”

  “Bite them. Are things well between you two again?” Keilor asked, coming towards her.

  “Never better,” she said with a smile that faded to a warning look. “But why didn’t you tell me that she was paralyzed? All this time I’ve wondered why she stayed holed up in her room, and you never said a word.”

  “She will be fine,” Keilor assured her, looping one arm around her waist and giving her a little squeeze. “There was, and is, nothing for you to worry about.”

  “We’re talking paralysis here, not a broken leg. How do you know—”

  “I’ve been paralyzed a time or two myself, Dragonfly. It’s a little inconvenient, but no big deal. She’ll heal.”

  Jasmine stared hard at him. “When was this?” When he said nothing, merely looked amused, she demanded, “Just when are you going to tell me how old you are, anyway?”

  Steering her towards the door, he answered, “Never.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Life isn’t fair.”

  “I’ll make you tell me....”

  It started out innocently enough.

  Jasmine was watching one of the big symbionts that had just finished feeding off of a sick stag turn back into a cycle when the idea came to her. “I wonder if one of these big guys could turn into a hang glider?” she mused out loud, watching the snorting stag prance with restored good health. It narrowed its eyes at them and stamped a cloven hoof in warning, swinging its spiked tail. She and Leo moved away from the pen.

  “A hang glider?” Leo inquired, blond brows raised in inquiry behind her dark glasses.

  “Sure. I’ve always wanted to try it.” Jasmine patted the silver cycle as it glided to a stop beside them. “I’ll bet that you could, couldn’t you, big guy?” she crooned, stroking the cycle’s ‘tank’. The symbiont rippled in approval of the caress.

  Leo stroked her jaw with the backs of her fingers. It was a mark of her adventurous spirit that she didn’t even bat an eye at the suggestion. “Hmm...We could try it.” She glanced around at their escort, but men and Haunt were standing back far enough that their speech was private. “We’ll need a high point to launch from, though. The symbiont will also have to take a run at it solo first, to test the waters.”

  “How about the top of the citadel? I’ve been up there once. It’s pretty high, and we could go up in the lift,” Jasmine suggested, tilting her head back to study the cliff face that made up the citadel.

  Within minutes they were on top of the citadel, looking out over the forest and the sea. For a moment they were silent as fingers of wind teased their hair. It slid over feminine skin, sighing at the pleasure. It was a smooth steady wind off the ocean, and carried the wild scent of salt tang and green forest.

  Leo called her symbiont over and explained via touch what she wanted to do. The symbiont responded, but instead of the hang glider, it took on the form of a giant silver bat-bird. Spreading its enormous wings, it leapt fearlessly from the precipice, fearing no danger. Awestruck, its audience watched as it banked into the wind and soared.

  Ribbons of light reflected off of its smooth silver surface as it flew in front of the sun, becoming a black shadow limned by fire. It banked again, returned to the citadel, and slowed just enough to catch Leo and Jasmine in ribbons of silver that retracted, lacing them to its body as it glided past. Then they were out over the ocean, the terrified cries of their bodyguards quickly lost in the rushing of the wind.r />
  It was scary, but also exhilarating as they swooped and soared, at one with the sky. The symbiont dived with dizzying speed, spreading its wings to arch upward again ten feet from the ocean waves. “Are you controlling this thing?” Jasmine called over the wind, her stomach somewhere in her throat.

  “How could I? I don’t know how to fly!”

  Jasmine’s eyes got big at that pronouncement. “In that case—”

  “Done!” Leo answered, and indeed they were swooping back to the roof of the citadel and a pale bunch of men and Haunt.

  Keilor was one of them.

  For long seconds he said nothing, simply looked her over, seeking injuries. Finding none, he took her arm in a firm grasp, saying nothing as he ushered her to the lift. His trembling hand said it all.

  Jasmine cringed and drug her heels. Opening her mouth seemed like a supremely foolish thing to do at that moment.

  She did it anyway. “Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

  “It’s a start.” That was the extent of their conversation until they entered their rooms.

  “Where do I even start with you?” Keilor demanded wearily, crossing his arms and half-sitting on the back of an overstuffed chair.

  Jasmine cringed with guilt. She had this coming, and she deserved every word. Instead of words, though, he stood up and turned his back on her, going over to stare out the window.

  He stood there for a long time.

  He didn’t come to bed that night or the next.

  Jayems told her that he was working with the volti, but nothing else. He wouldn’t discuss her problems with her, either. “Some things should stay between a Haunt and wife. I can do nothing for you.” He refused to leave the room when she went to visit Rihlia, effectively blocking that outlet.

  Raziel wouldn’t discuss it. “It’s not my place. Speak with your husband.”

  Isfael remained in Haunt, and she didn’t know enough sign language to bother him. Fallon was typically absent, Mathin was gone, and Leo was unavailable.