She had to get out of town. This little stunt just cemented that fact. Soon this city would be asking questions to the wrong people, and the Graygual would swoop down after her.
Unfortunately, the time had also come to fulfill her duty. She couldn’t leave another person with the Gift for the Graygual to claim. It was a situation of sacrificing one to save many. It had to be done.
With a heavy heart, she took off at a sprint, heading toward the closest member of the Honor Guard, which was Xavier. The members of her Guard were the only ones in this city who would not only believe her, but help without comment. She ducked through the unlocked door and quietly jogged through the house, having a rough idea of which bedroom was his since he pointed it out every time they passed the house.
Stepping into, what she hoped was, the right room, she heard the loud snoring of what could only be him. He had one sister—younger women just didn’t get the same volume as a man in the snoring department. Half falling over the many pieces of debris that littered the floor, she reached his bedside. She gave him a little shove and paused, waiting to see if he would spring. He wasn’t battle trained, so he probably didn’t have those reactions yet, so she wasn’t surprised when he only mildly startled.
“Shanti?” Xavier asked in that supreme confusion one gets when waking up out of a deep sleep.
“Yes. I need to know where my weapons are. I am not asking you to fetch them, but I need to know where they are.”
“The Captain has them. Are you naked? Oh—“ Xavier was suddenly wide awake.
“Yes, yes, breasts, I know.” She had briefs on, but still didn’t understand the philosophy of the nightgown. “Anyway, where does the Captain live? Or where does he have them?”
Something new wavered into her awareness. It was violent. The expectation was growing. It was becoming thick now. She could almost see it, red and orange filaments sifting through the dark room. Those gathered were preparing for battle, working themselves into a fever pitch. She’d felt it before.
A constricting panic started to wrap itself around her midsection. Flashbacks of Chase’s mother, of the dark streets flicking in firelight, houses on fire, children screaming, people running naked and bloody through the streets—
“Xavier, get up. Now! Get up. Something is coming. Something is happening! Get dressed! Warn people! Where is the most secure location in the city?”
“Wha—“
“Answer me!”
“The town bunker.”
“Get your family there. The children. Your friends. Everyone that can’t fight. Get them there. Hurry!”
“Okay. The Captain is in the heart of the city. Big mansion. You hid in the rafters once then dropped down on Leilius.”
“Get them to safety.”
“Wait, clothes!”
And shoes. She’d need shoes.
In a moment Shanti had slipped into some garments Xavier wore under his clothes when it got cold. Unlike on him, they were anything but tight. She was given his sister’s leather shoes, which were slightly too small, but supple. They would do. She took his throwing knives just in case, since he wasn’t excellent with them anyway, and was gone, sprinting across the city, yelling as she went. She wanted to warn as many people as possible—or at least wake them up.
When she reached the Captain’s house she shook the door and found it locked. She climbed up a beam and launched herself onto the first floor roof. Like a burglar, she ran across to the first open window she saw and burst through. A large bedroom swept out around her with two candles flickering on a bedside table. Two nude figures writhed on the bed, limbs tangled, skin on skin. A soft, feminine moan drifted toward the window.
Oops.
“I need my weap—“
She barely hit the ground in time. A knife twanged as it lodged in the wall behind her.
“I need my weapons,” she said again, breathless, rising slowly with her hands in the air. The man had good reactions.
The Captain was standing beside the huge bed, a sword in one hand, a knife in the other. If she took one step, he would rush forward to meet her, slicing her neck-to-navel in a matter of seconds. Standing with perfect technique, he was powerful and nude, gleaming with sweat and sex. His muscles were substantial and cut and heavenly and it was definitely not the time to notice any of this.
Her mind shuddered to a start as her groin throbbed. “Something is coming. Open up and feel Cayan. Open your mind to it. Hurry! I will not be dying tonight. I am not the enemy!”
His confusion at her having said his real name, something very few actually used, turned instantly to rage. “What the fuck are you doing in my house in men’s underwear?”
His power surged, but it was all outbound—he wasn’t being receptive with it. He probably didn’t even know how. Which meant he was basically as blind as Sanders, but a much better, more thorough fighter.
She should just mentally kill him now. She was back to nearly 100% strength—there wasn’t much he’d be able to do to stop her. Then, a quick look through the house, and she’d have what she needed. She could dodge the coming horde and be well on her way by dawn.
She looked at the girl in the bed, a beauty by anyone’s standards, and what Xavier would call a knockout in this land. The woman was halfway between fear and outrage. But she was also vulnerable and innocent. And if Shanti killed the Captain of these people, they’d all be plunged into vulnerable and innocent—he was the glue to this town. He was the rock of leadership that kept them functioning like a machine.
If she killed one, she’d also kill a great many. Just her luck.
“Get to safety,” Shanti snapped at the girl. “Get your family to safety. The bunker.”
“What are you talking about?” the Captain snarled. He stepped to her in a rush of movement and grabbed her arm—the men in this city were very fond of that hold. A surge of pure electricity surged into her body, searing her. No pain rode the current.
Shanti hesitated, ignoring the fizz of her body. She needed him to use his Gift so he would believe her. Precious minutes were wasting away—he needed to organize getting people to safety. But teaching even barely enough to sense the coming horde was that much farther on the “I’m super powerful” wagon. It’d make it that much harder to take him out when she finally did.
But not teaching him would get people killed, one of those possibly herself. And all her people with her.
Swearing under her breath, Shanti slapped a palm to his chest, the vibe now pulsing between them. Humming. Not pleasure, not sex (mostly), but something else. Something powerful she’d never experienced. Something to do with her Gift.
He flinched, his eyes burning, a wrinkle forming in his brow.
Taking a deep breath, forcing the panic down, Shanti focused on the connection. She had trained many, and worked with even more to a common goal, but she’d never dealt this closely with so much power. He was a thick well of it, swirling and pooling within him, crouching and ready to blast out.
Feeling his slick, defined pec warm under her palm, seeing his pupils dilate as he looked down on her, she was acutely aware that he was naked and she was nearly so. He was still hard, his length extending the distance between them and lightly touching her belly with its girth. Her whole focus trained on him, on his heat, on his unique mind, currently swirling and shifting, reaching out to her mental touch even as his phallus was reaching out to her body.
She delicately touched his mind, aiming for an extremely shallow connection. With any hope she could guide without teaching—she didn’t need to make their future battle any harder. She was a fool.
Having unconsciously figured out a rough control over his power, he felt the connection and yanked on it, sucking her in and clamping down. He probably didn’t even know what he was bloody doing, but his trap was still just as effective.
Weightless, she fell in head first, feeling a rush she’d never experienced. The ground dropped away and her stomach fluttered, the solidity under her pal
m the only thing she could focus on. It was too much. Too much power swirling around them, making her dizzy. And then he mimicked her, tracing her mental path back to the source and weaving in, much deeper and more consuming than he should’ve been able to.
“Stop—“ she gritted her teeth, trying to block him out.
Feeling followed him in. Pushed at her, bombarded her.
“No—“ She tried to wrench away. Tried to control the connection. Tried to run if she could. But his complex feelings were so crystal clear she could almost read his mind. And she didn’t want to!
She didn’t want to know that he was concerned she had a troubled past, or his admiration for how she handled herself in spite of it. She didn’t care that he approved of her training and thought she was a caring person underneath her rough handling of the boys. And she certainly didn’t want to know how ardently he missed his mother and father, or the solitary confinement in which he lived his life. She would have to kill him when this was all over, and she would rather see him as the asshole Captain with a misguided agenda than a real person with all the vulnerabilities and genuine distresses of a moral leader with a lot of responsibility.
Why was nothing ever easy?
What she did latch onto was his absolute conviction that in his presence, she would be safe. That his people would be safe. He would lay down his life to ensure his city would live, and he had enough assurance in himself and his abilities to safeguard that it was true. It wasn’t, of course—she’d seen enough to know that the Graygual army would steamroll this place, but she approved of his mentality.
As if she needed more complications.
And just as fast, everything leveled out. The rush of the stars and the swoon of power balanced, letting her float. With him. Together they were cocooned in a flux of power so intense, she had no idea what to think about it.
“Feel it, Cayan,” she instructed quietly, putting her other hand on his bare chest, trying to find solid ground. He didn’t flinch from her this time. “Do you see? All the intentions, the brain paths—all that mental energy; it is coming here. Do you feel how filthy it is? It is hell-bent on destruction. It is foreign to me—I have never felt this specific kind of filth before, but it is badness. Can you feel it? Who is it?”
His head dipped to hers, his eyes delving. “What are you?” His voice held awe tinged with fear. Beneath that, though, in the deep timber of his voice, it almost sounded like he’d found an answer to a question that had been bothering him.
“I am your mirror. You have this power in you. Your eyes are glowing, just like mine. But…your wife does not understand.” She removed one of her hands reluctantly, hating to leave this power. The feeling.
The Captain was looking at her with more fear than awe, now. He was reaching on his own. He was laying his own net over hers as it blanketed the land. He was consciously searching for the first time in his life, and it scared him.
She knew how he felt, in theory, but it had been so long she could barely remember. Plus, their situations had been slightly different. Hopefully they would continue to be.
“I need my weapons.” Shanti stepped away. She rubbed her palm on her pants, trying to wipe a weird hum.
“Mugdock,” the Captain said softly, understanding. He was a fast learner, which was usually a good thing. Not great in their future circumstances, however.
“Tanicia.” He turned to the young woman. “Get to your family—get them to safety. Give the message to everyone you see. The alarm will sound shortly. Shanti,” he rounded on her, eyes alive, still glowing. He looked at her, then into her. He was now seeing properly for the first time. Brushing her mind with purpose instead of with unconsciously learned habit.
His eyes refocused and he shook his head to clear it. “You won’t leave.” It wasn’t a question. He wanted to ascertain if what he saw was correct.
And it was. It was also the third irritating discovery she’d had in this man’s presence, because she couldn’t leave a city to get slaughtered. It wasn’t in her nature.
“No. And right now, you need to protect your people, and I need to know the weakest point of entry.”
“Your weapons are in the throne room on the shelves next to the armor. There are battle garments there as well—“ He broke off, his eyes losing focus.
Sanders had arrived at the front door in much the same mood she left him. The Captain was a very fast learner…
“He’s…in a rage, by the way,” Shanti qualified. She had a feeling that, where Sanders was concerned, a head’s-up was always prudent. She didn’t plan to say why. The fun was in the surprise.
The Captain looked down into Shanti’s eyes for a brief moment of stillness, sharing an open moment before she closed up shop. A glimmer taking over his eyes, he was action again, darting away, heading for the stairs.
Shanti rushed after him—apparently she was expected to know which room was the throne room...
Chapter XII
SANDERS BANGED ON THE DOOR for the second time. He didn’t give a damn what he was interrupting, there was a security breach and that woman had to be squared away.
The door sucked in air as it opened, the Captain’s eyes were on fire, his hair tied, and his sword at the ready.
“It’s the wom—“ Sanders started.
“They’re here,” the Captain cut him off. “Sound the alarm. They will be attacking within the hour. I want to be ready for them.”
“How do you—you’re not believing her are you? How would—“
The Captain took one measured step outward and leaned. Sanders couldn’t help the uncomfortable tightening in his gut at the size and power pushed up into his space. But he had a reason for being pissed, damn it! A solid reason. That woman had to be taken down a peg.
Sanders let his rage push away his anxiety, desperately trying to ignore the commanding stare shocking into his body. He would have his say!
But as he opened his mouth to speak the air condensed around him. A blast of solid air rammed his chest and chattered his teeth. The dominance in that blue stare had warning tingles running up his spine and turning his stomach to gravy.
Unable to hold it, Sanders had no choice but to drop his gaze. The girl wasn’t worth having his skin peeled off.
“Call the Commanders,” the Captain said in an authoritative voice. “Meet in my office. Get a guard on Shanti. I don’t want her near that fight.”
“Not gonna happen,” Shanti tittered as she flitted out of the house with excited eyes hovering over a smile. “Sorry about your face, Sanders, and you, Sanders’ hero.”
“Lucius will guard you,” the Captain said to the girl, apparently not planning to wait for Sanders to arrange it. “He’s fast and able. He’ll keep you out of trouble.”
Shanti turned to a quiet Lucius and smiled at him pleasantly. She could smile all she liked, if Lucius was anything like Sanders, he wouldn’t fall for it. Because like Sanders, he, too, had just gotten beat up by a girl. It wasn’t something a guy forgave all that easily. Or ever.
“Sanders’ hero—Lucius? Hello. So you are my Chance? You will be guarding my back?”
Lucius nodded with one black eye. She nodded once, staring back, before her eyes started to glow faintly. Even as Sanders’ mouth dropped open, Lucius stood up straighter.
How did glowing eyes not freak the guy out?
“That gives them the courage of a lion,” Shanti said to the Captain. “They will not balk, they will not be impeded by fear for themselves or family, and they will prosper because of it. Give that Gift to your Commanders if they go into battle…if you can remember how.”
She met the Captain’s gaze for a long moment, her jaw clenched.
“Thank you,” the Captain said. “For the warning. For...” The Captain let the word trail away as he stared at the foreign woman with a lightly puzzled expression.
Sanders barely had time to wonder what was going on before she broke the gaze and took off down the street. Lucius sprinted after her a
moment later.
“What the fuck just happened, Sir?” Sanders couldn’t help but blurt. “Glowing eyes, stare-offs. She’s a menace, and something is definitely off—“
The Captain shot Sanders a hard look. A shut up or I’ll make you shut up kind of look. He turned back into the house. “Get ready. They are coming. And it’s going to be a bloody battle.”
A shock of apprehension coursed through Sanders. He had to make sure Junice got to safety! They were coming!
Chapter XIII
HER GUARD WAS HUDDLED AT a familiar copse of trees when Shanti tracked them down. They waited impatiently, mostly afraid and all apprehensive. Shanti approached at a fast walk, the thrill of the coming battle simmering her blood. “Are all your families to safety?”
“Yes, sir,” they responded.
“Good.” She looked them over, most with bent backs and large eyes, their limbs shaking and their faces pale. They wanted to help, felt it was their duty, and knew, one and all, that she would find them. And they were right. She’d trained them enough to give Shanti confidence that they could each help in their own way. It was not only necessary for the city, but vital for their experience levels.
“Leilius, where are your knives?” she asked. Lucius stopped directly behind her.
“Right here, sir.” Leilius patted his belt as he gulped.
“The rest of you, where are your swords?”
All the men patted their weapon, eyes pleaded for courage.
Shanti didn’t ever remember being this young. This green.
But then, she hadn’t had that luxury.
Shanti felt the trees around them, felt the life calling through the forest. She looked at the boys, so ill prepared, about to get their first lesson in warfare. “That is your weapon. You are the only one to wield it. In your hand, that weapon will protect your family. It will protect your brothers and sisters. It will protect your men at arms. It will protect your way of life. It will find you glory, it will mean your survival.”
FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy Page 36