by Autumn Dawn
His summons box clicked.
Sitting up, he grabbed it off of his belt and checked the code. Adrenaline poured through him as he saw that it was the one that he’d been expecting.
Jasmine’s hand tightened on his hip. “What is it?”
Whirling around, he gave her a quick kiss before bounding to the closet to collect his battle gear. “Nothing to worry about, but I want you to stay here. No visitors until I get back, all right? That includes family. Rihlia won’t be visiting at this time of night, and there is no one else who needs to see you. I don’t even want you opening the door unless I give the all safe code, is that clear?”
She only hesitated a heartbeat. “All right. But what if—”
“Terza is here, and Isfael is just on the other side of the door, along with reinforcements. If you need to see what’s going on for some reason, you may use the view screen to watch the hall.” He buckled on his weapon’s belt and then took her in his arms for one last, brain-searing kiss. “Keep the bed warm for me, Dragonfly.” And then, with the click of a door, he was gone.
It was a moment before her mind cleared enough to assimilate what he’d said. Her eyes narrowed. Great. Stay home, be a good little wife, and don’t worry about me maybe getting my head blown off, little lady.
Rolling her eyes, she cleared off the table and then drug a chair up to where she could watch the view screen. Then she settled down with her deck of homemade cards for a game of solitaire.
It promised to be a long night.
Keilor raced through the moonlit night, his long legs pumping with exhilarating efficiency, sending adrenaline charged blood through his pounding heart.
Battle. At last.
Taking a deep breath of the sultry night air, he checked the scents of those who ran beside him; all friends. As he neared the stable, he saw his stag among the many battle-ready mounts, his night vision equal to all but the deepest of shadows.
In her arrogance Yesande had assumed she would be safe if she clung to the mountains until the very last and then used the river to carry her nearly to the walls of the citadel near dawn, forcing the series of gates guarding the ground level seafood hatcheries that helped assure fresh meat in times of siege or storm.
She was about to discover a serious snag in her plan.
He reached the aqueduct gates just as Yesande and her men docked their boat. Their feet no sooner touched ground than the surprised group was surrounded by silent Haunt who melted from the shadows on every side. “Good evening, Yesande. Rather late in the year for boating, isn’t it?” His voice lowered to a rough growl. “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you that Tor Maphin won’t be joining you this evening. He’s been...delayed.” He flashed her a smile of challenge as he took on the Haunt, his sharp white teeth gleaming in the light of the triple moons.
A silent roar of rage was her only answer as she and her men dashed for the woods as one body, firing as they ran.
They were cut down like so many scurrying bugs.
Mathin personally took his sister’s head.
A kink in her neck woke Jasmine. The scene on the view screen hadn’t changed. Four Haunt stood in the exact same place they’d been all night. About as exciting as watching paint dry. Jasmine snorted in disgust. She stood up and stretched. If she was going to be bored to sleep then she might as well do it while lying comfortably on the bed.
She was determined not to worry about Keilor. It wouldn’t help him to do whatever it was he was doing, and she’d learned enough about Haunt honor and the male mind in recent months to know he’d find her lack of faith distressing. She knew he still tormented himself over her kidnapping and that he viewed the capture of Yesande as his redemption. His unwillingness to forgive himself for that tore at her. It wasn’t his fault, but he was too good a man—and too much in love—to easily believe that.
Determined to show him her trust, both in him and the men he’d surrounded her with, she prepared for bed.
It was the least he deserved.
“I’m sorry to see you here, cousin.”
Urseya stopped, startled by the voice in the shadows.
Jayems melted out of the darkness of an alcove in the only corridor leading to Jasmine and Keilor’s suite.
The corridor that she was just turning down, with flash grenades hidden in her suddenly sweating palms. Jayems’ nostrils flared, and she knew that he’d scented them as his eyes flashed golden fire.
Evasion was useless, so she drew herself up, shifting the glass grenades carefully to her left hand and settling her weight on the balls of her feet. “You don’t have to be a part of this, cousin. Your wife needs you, doesn’t she? For her sake, if none other, remove yourself.”
His teeth gleamed in a humorless smile. “Your fate was set the moment you came here, Urseya, but I’ll make this quick, for your mother’s sake.” With blinding action, his blade cleared its sheath, flaring into a blue arc even as her hand came up. There was a hiss, a shriek, and a blinding explosion of blue as his blade shattered the glass balls, negating most of their destructive energy. Urseya’s thumb went flying through the air, but she barely had time to feel it before Jayems reversed the arc of his blade and severed her head.
Sounds of battle erupted just down the hall and were almost immediately extinguished. Raziel rounded the corner, retracting his blade. “Such poor sport,” he complained, glancing behind him with contempt. “All clear.” Haunt spilled out of the hallway behind him and checked, disgruntled at being left with nothing to do but clear the bodies. One of them slung Urseya’s body over his shoulder and then bent to scoop up her head by the hair, carrying what was left of her off.
“Shall we see how Keilor fares?” Jayems suggested, leading the way. The sooner this night was over, the better.
Keilor entered the rooms he shared with Jasmine, careful to do so silently. If she were sleeping he did not want to wake her. She did not need to see him as he cleansed away the blood of battle. It would only upset her.
He eased the door quietly shut and then paused a moment, listening. Her respiration remained steady and deep, unmistakably that of deep slumber. Satisfaction brought a smile to his face. It pleased him greatly that she would trust him so well.
She’d left a light on for him. It was a sweet gesture, and wholly human, for no Haunt would ever stumble in the shadows. Still, the thoughtfulness warmed him. He had a very good wife.
It was just as he was finishing his bath that Terza lifted her head and growled. Keilor froze in the water, listening. His eyes narrowed. Something was scrabbling down the chimney.
Still naked, he slipped from the bath, water dripping from his body to slick the tiles. A motion of his hand warned Terza to silence, and it only took a moment to open the outer doors and warn the Haunt. Then he strode back to the room and retrieved his blade, staring at the chimney above the still smoldering fire.
A long reptilian head emerged from the chimney, its slitted yellow eyes blinking to clear the smoke.
Keilor didn’t give the poisonous lizard time to focus. One swipe of his sword and its head thumped into the fire, followed closely by its body. The coals sizzled as poisonous lizard blood dripped and flowed over them, evaporating in a cloud of noxious smoke.
He glanced at his sleeping wife, doubly glad he was here. Even Terza might not have stopped the reptile before its poison overcame her. Keilor looked at the fireplace, his thoughts grim. Even with the Haunt he’d sent swarming up to check the roofs, it was doubtful they’d catch the culprit. Yesande and Tor Maphin were dead. Who was still alive who wanted Jasmine dead?
The symbiont delegation left the next day, hurrying to get home before the storms began. They left none behind.
“Maybe you’ll get to come back for a visit,” Jasmine told Leo, a little sad to see her go.
Leo glanced at Jackson, who was mounting his symbiont cycle, her expression doubtful. “Maybe.”
Jasmine stopped her with a touch to her suede swathed arm as she was about to m
ount. “A calling card, just in case you need a friend,” she said, handing Leo a dragonfly pin made of iridescent silver. “Things sound rough back in the swamps. Let me know if I can lend you a hand, or if you need a place to hole up for a while, ok?”
Something suspiciously like tears sparkled in Leo’s eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured. She cleared her throat and mounted up for the short ride to the port.
She was the only one who looked back as they rode away.
The hard rains came the next day, and continued without mercy for weeks, occasionally morphing into deadly hurricanes. No one was more relieved than Jasmine when they finally left. The hormones from her pregnancy had made her more and more irritable as each day passed, until even the indomitable Keilor began to keep a wary eye on her when he entered the room.
Rihlia gave birth to a healthy baby daughter, and shortly thereafter she was back on her feet, just as the doctors had promised.
“Glad to see that they’re not born furry,” Jasmine teased, holding her charming little niece.
And then it was her turn.
After the first ten minutes of her high-pitched screaming during hard labor, Keilor turned an alarming shade of eggshell and quickly found some ear protection—earning a glare from the medic—but bravely stayed to await the birth.
Nearly ten months to the day of her return, Jasmine gave birth to a pair of twin boys. One was born with dark hair and his father’s eyes.
The other, the second born, emerged wearing a tiny symbiont.