Isabeau was his prisoner, a wily thief who happened to be female, happened to make him want things he’d never considered, happened to make him want to be hers. Damn it. That did it, snapped reality into sharp relief. He belonged to no female. With that in mind, he gained the ounce of control he’d needed and loosened his grip enough Tobin could breathe and then speak.
“Bring her,” he croaked, trying to break Dillon’s hold.
For a minute, no one moved and Dillon’s fingers flexed in warning.
“I’ll do it,” a familiar voice, thick with disgust, preceded the scrabble of boot on stone.
Dillon broke eye contact long enough to pinpoint the speaker. Phineas. His grip tightened as betrayal sparked anger and blackened his vision. “Do you kidnap all the females who deny you?”
Phineas gave him a faint smile that settled like a stone in his gut.
“She’s unharmed,” Tobin said through a tender throat. “I promise you that.”
Slamming Tobin’s head against the wall shut him up. Until Dillon saw Isabeau with his own eyes, he wasn’t buying she was safe. After all, there were only so many reasons to steal females.
“You’d better hope she is.” Dillon popped his jaw and waited. His leg quivered. Holding himself upright was arduous enough, but pinning Tobin to the wall wasn’t his brightest idea yet.
Somewhere down the tunnel, metal hinges groaned. Low words were exchanged, the tone a threat in itself. Dillon’s temper got the best of him. Melting glamour ran down his arms like water poured from the faucet. Twisting his heel on the uneven floor made his vision waver, but he used that pain to rebuild his illusion so these bastards, so that Isabeau, wouldn’t see him bare.
“Dillon?”
Reflex loosened his fingers. Tobin dropped forgotten onto the floor.
Yards dissolved before Dillon registered his first step. Mine. His arms opened, and Isabeau stumbled into them, made clumsy by the shackles at her ankles and wrists. When he tucked her close, she was thrown off balance and her weight hit him. Even small as she was, his knees almost buckled. They needed an exit strategy, fast.
He snapped, “You said she was unharmed.”
Phineas peered at her from over his shoulder. “She looks fine to me.”
Dried blood seeped from beneath the metal cuffs. She’d fought them. Good girl. The snap of her teeth must have warned them off until his arrival. How long had they had her? Hours while Dillon covered the distance by horseback rather than by wing. He held her gently. “You okay?”
Her gaze cut to Phineas, but her words were meant for Dillon. “You shouldn’t have come.”
The hell he shouldn’t have. Had they done more to her he couldn’t see? Brainwashed her within hours? Ridiculous. So what was the catch? “If that’s the thanks I get for rescuing you—”
“They set this trap for you.” Her eyes met his and darkened. “I was the bait.”
“Now, now.” Phineas’s expression tightened. “Let’s not point fingers.”
Rolling onto her tiptoes, she pressed her face into Dillon’s neck. His groan as her lips moved over his skin muted her words. “There’s a pregnant female,” she warned. “We have to help her.”
Dillon tensed as her message permeated the lust muddling his head. Another female? This ragtag band wouldn’t rate a female unless they’d stolen her. He’d seen their kind before, living on the fringes, preying on the weak. They’d gotten lucky with Isabeau since Phineas knew her from the colony. If there was another, she must have been scavenged from another group. Pregnant meant there was a good chance her mate was searching for her. But where did Dillon fit in?
Why steal Isabeau to lure him here? Unless they suspected, as Mason did, he was courting her as his mate. Pressing a kiss to her neck, he promised, “We will.” Lifting her wrists, he made his first demand. “You want to talk? Fine. I want these removed. Right now or we’re walking.”
Phineas didn’t rush. He ambled toward Tobin and waited for the order to be given, which made Dillon’s teeth ache from grinding them. Chained females kept in a cave full of males. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on here. No one wore glamour. All the males present were Evanti and Isabeau was thought to be. That painted an ugly picture. Had they captured her in the hopes she would claim one of them to escape the others? Or something else?
One thing was for sure. Dillon wasn’t leaving without answers. Up to the point where he had crushed Tobin’s windpipe, Tobin had seemed chatty. Drawing Isabeau close, he turned to him now. “Sorry about that.” He didn’t smile. His fake ones were worse than his real ones. “I’m sure you can understand me being concerned about having my prize stolen right out from under me.”
Motioning toward another male, this one with a set of keys, Tobin nodded. “I apologize, but given who you are, we thought it would be best if we brought you to us rather than come to you.”
Unsure what that meant, Dillon played along, even muttering thanks to the asswipe who freed Isabeau. “I can see how you’d think so.” He wouldn’t have answered their summons and they both knew it. “I’m here now.” And he wasn’t thrilled about it. “You’ve got my attention.”
“Have a seat.” Tobin motioned toward a section of empty bench while he sat opposite them.
Careful of her wrists, Dillon guided Isabeau. When her knees gave out, he sat and pulled her onto his lap. Experience with dehydration had kept him from feeding her earlier. He’d wanted more fluids in her first. Hunger pangs were due to make an appearance any minute now, assuming they weren’t already to blame for the way she was teetering off balance.
Once she was settled with her head on his shoulder, he looked to Tobin. “Well?”
Gone was the timid twitch of nerves. Tobin sat straight, gaze fixed and eyes glittering. “As I mentioned, I have a proposition for you. One I’m sure you’ll be interested in hearing.” His gaze cut over to Isabeau. “First, though, forgive me if I have to verify you two aren’t mated, correct?”
Isabeau tensed, and he stroked her arm. “We aren’t.” The implied yet hung between them.
“Excellent. I’d hoped that was the case.” Tobin smiled. “You toil in the colony alongside your mixed-blood brethren.” When Dillon stiffened, he rushed. “Your work is commendable, and I admire your dedication to the legion, to the colony, to helping those who were once enslaved embrace their newfound freedom.” He became the picture of concern. “But have you wondered if you’re fighting a losing battle? Our race is dying. Our females are all but lore. Our children are weak reflections of our once majestic race.” He shook his head. “Every generation the blood is diluted a fraction more. How much longer can we survive? What will our descendants become?”
“All races evolve.” He kept his answer vague but sensed he held Isabeau’s attention.
“Don’t you mean devolve?” Phineas quipped.
Tobin covered his flinch by shifting in his seat. “I’m not talking about evolution. I’m talking about returning our race to its former glory through selective breeding. You could be part of the rebirth of the Evanti. You’re an unmated prime. Mating with a prima is in your best interest.” He frowned at Isabeau. “I’m not saying mixed-blood females don’t serve their purpose, but you deserve our best. You deserve access to our primas, and there are several who aid in our cause.”
Arms tightening around Isabeau, Dillon said, “I notice you didn’t say they were willing.”
A slight shrug before Tobin continued. “Sacrifices must be made. It is unfortunate that not all females share our views, but as they bear the burden, it is understandable. I can guarantee their cooperation. All we ask is for you to consider joining our cause. Think of your race, their future. Think of pureblood children outside of Daeza. Of the commune being rendered obsolete.”
Dillon suppressed a shudder as memories choked him with dainty, red-stained hands.
“Only a pureblood will do…” Eliya licked blood from her fingers, “…and yours is so potent.”
“Not
interested.” He stood, and Isabeau circled his neck with her arms. “Tobin, your boy Phineas must get the idea females weren’t emancipated from you. I hate to burst your bubble, but if you have females here who don’t want to be here, and no way in hell are they vying for a place in this line, then you’re breaking the queen’s law and there will be consequences.” While Tobin gaped, Dillon plowed forward. “I’ll give you a quick rundown of charges I can promise you’ll face. Kidnapping, one count for the females and a count a piece for any offspring resulting from your, did you really call this a program?” Tobin’s mouth started moving, but Dillon ignored him. “Rape.” His tone hardened. “Having been on the receiving end of that one, no, nothing you can say will justify your actions to me.” He glanced around. “This is part of the Feriana mine network, which means you’re trespassing on colony property and bringing your shit to our door.”
“I told you he wouldn’t listen.” Phineas sighed. “He’s showing signs of the change, he’s—”
“Get out.” Dillon cut him off, torn between holding Isabeau and plugging her ears. If she knew what he was going through…that she was the cause…he could kiss his freedom goodbye.
“I regret you’re unwilling to see things from our perspective.” Tobin’s lips pressed together. “If you don’t mind, we’ll gather Adina and be on our way.” He wrinkled his nose as he took one final glance around the mine. He nodded at Phineas, who headed deeper into the tunnel. “My offer stands when you’re ready to accept it.” His gaze dipped. “She’s a poor choice for a mate.”
Throat tight, Dillon choked on what he’d almost said. That he would be honored to be hers.
No matter how honorable her reasons, she was a thief, a liar and…he sighed…a magnet for trouble. Instead of defending her, he turned toward the slumped figure Phineas dragged at his side. Recognition slammed into him, instant and undeniable. Beneath the lank hair and unfocused eyes was a prima. Eliya had once kept two, until a wayward comment on their beauty sparked her jealousy and ended their lives. Dillon recalled that jolt in his gut whenever they’d neared. It wasn’t a matter of attraction. Recognition of like to like? Hard to describe, harder to believe he’d forgotten the eerily displaced sensation, likened to awe, he’d felt in their presence.
As he stared into the wide eyes of the female tucked to his chest, an equally strong pull tugged at him. If Isabeau had been a prima, he’d have known. That she wasn’t a pureblood didn’t mean she wasn’t Evanti, but the more he thought about that locket, the more he realized what had troubled him about the picture all along. The girl had auburn hair. Not impossible. Glamour explained the color. Except magic couldn’t reside where there was no energy. The lock of hair that matched her portrait to perfection was cut, dead, devoid of magic, which meant that her color was natural.
And since Evanti birthed dark-skinned, dark-eyed and dark-haired children, that meant whatever Isabeau was—it wasn’t Evanti. Couldn’t be since her daughter wasn’t and the two were identical. There was no way the kid wasn’t hers. Only a mother would do what Isabeau had done.
Yeah, no doubt about it. Isabeau personified motherhood at its fiercest. What it said for his state of mind, he didn’t know, but his glimpse of the heavily pregnant Adina made him wonder how Isabeau must have looked while rounded with child and radiant as new life grew inside her.
It made him wonder how she’d look rounded with his child.
Seconds passed while Dillon’s gaze captured mine, his expression an odd mixture of longing and frustration that may have once given me hope. My pulse did leap, but my heart knew better. He was here. He had come for me. His gentle touches soothed, his concern melting the worst of my fear. Once his arms opened, I had fallen into them, cherishing his soft words, his promise I was safe. Difficult as it was to lift my head, I had no choice. “Don’t let them leave with Adina.”
His brow creased. “I don’t plan on it.” He leaned close. “Can you stand?”
I was sore but, “I can manage.” I held on to his shoulders, and he put my feet on the ground.
Tobin kept his back turned to Adina. He hadn’t even glanced in her direction. Guilt bled from his pores. While he failed in hiding his discomfort with his methods, his conviction he was right must have overcome the more unsavory aspect of his business. For his part, Phineas kept an eye on Dillon. His grip on Adina was bruising. Her lips pressed tight, and she kept herself silent.
Dillon wrapped an arm around my waist, giving the illusion of protecting what was his, but a portion of his weight shifted onto me. I kept from glancing at his leg, but he stiffened beneath my notice. Concern for him warmed my palms, but my well was empty and my glamour nothing more than a spark too weak to illuminate the shadows surrounding me. I’d have to bide my time.
One by one the members of Tobin’s group rose. While they’d been content to let Phineas act as muscle, when that failed and Dillon denied Tobin’s invitation, the atmosphere inside the mine changed. They stood to lose him and me and the secret of their existence. I don’t think, based on Tobin’s faraway expression, he’d realized the males weren’t shuffling defeated toward the exit. They were encircling us, prompting Dillon to back against a wall and pull me along behind him.
“Well, Dillon, I suppose I’ve worn out my welcome at the colony.” Phineas’s grin was amused, no doubt because his duplicity had gone unnoticed. “I wish you and Harper all the best,” he said, extending his hand as if expecting Dillon to shake it, “but I’ll be taking Isabeau.”
Tobin’s head snapped toward Phineas. “That’s not what we agreed.”
“We agreed she’d make good bait.” He inclined his head. “That’s all we agreed.”
“There are other primes, other primas.” Tobin urged, “Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“Don’t you get it?” Phineas wheeled on him. “You explained how this operation works. Or at least how you think it works.” He gave Tobin a pitying smirk. “Do you think we can let him leave? He’s a legionnaire, an honest one.” He transferred the same look onto Dillon. “I’ve watched him for months. I told you he wouldn’t bend, but you couldn’t let it go until you’d spoken to him. Now you have. You have his answer, and it’s no. If we let him leave, he’ll run to the colony and alert the legion. He’s not going to let this, let us, go. He can’t. He’s too…moral.”
“Name calling?” Dillon clucked his tongue. “Now that’s just being rude.”
I rested my hand over his chest, trying to hold him back. His heart drummed beneath my palm. His gaze darted between the males in charge and the ones tightening their circle around us.
“We’re leaving,” I said, nodding toward Adina, “and we’re taking her with us.”
“No.” Phineas shoved her into the waiting arms of another male. “You really aren’t.”
“Dillon, leave.” Tobin broke into the circle. “This is not the way. I won’t stand by and—”
Another male crept up behind Tobin and grasped him by his bruised neck. A sharp pop made my gut churn. Head twisted at a wrong angle, Tobin slumped onto the ground at the feet of his attacker. Blood dribbled from his mouth, hung open on a silent gasp of unuttered surprise.
Dillon’s reaction was calmer than mine. “You’re not visionaries, I take it.”
“Mercenaries, more like.” Phineas frowned at Tobin’s corpse. “I do regret his loss. He was a little slow on the uptake, but true charismatics are hard to find. Recruitment was up, and morale was at an all-time high.” He appeared thoughtful. “Purpose is absolution. The key is getting others to believe in your purpose. The right spin on a series of acts can turn a reviled cause into a revered one. That was Tobin’s gift. He was a visionary, a believer, but when theory met practice, he wavered in his convictions. I suppose I should thank you for the excuse.” His chuckle was unexpected. “I’ve heard clean breaks are the best.” Around him, others laughed.
“What you mean is,” Dillon said, gaze panning each grinning face, “you wanted an excuse to do what you want
ed to, and Tobin was a righteous enabler.” At that, their expressions slipped.
“I think we both know slavery will continue to thrive in Askara. How can it not when each of her neighbors embraces the old ways? Change was inevitable after Eliya, but drastic changes that cripple a kingdom aren’t the hallmark of a fit ruler. Nesvia will fall. The young queen has set herself up for abdication or an early grave. It’s only a matter of time before the slavers who were legal yesterday, illegal today, will became legitimized again tomorrow. So why halt my profits?”
I glared at him. “Other than the obvious moral dilemmas, you mean.”
“So says the thief,” Phineas retorted.
My cheeks heated in equal parts anger and embarrassment. The weight of Dillon’s hand on my shoulder made it worse. I’d done nothing to deserve his comfort but enjoyed it to my shame.
“Besides,” Phineas said, glancing from Dillon to me, “even if I suffered a change of heart, we all answer to a higher power.” He scoffed. “And no, I don’t mean some absentee goddess. I mean males of power who are used to getting what they want, and if they want females, then it’s my duty to supply them by any means.” He grinned. “And at reasonable cost.”
“You’re playing with fire by supplying Askaran nobles with slaves.” Dillon’s voice lowered. “I can tell you from experience that if their plush little purses are threatened, they’ll squeal like the pigs they are. Your name will be the first words they purge from their lips. Trust me on that.”
“That is true, which is why we no longer accept Askaran clients.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Other kingdoms are less close-minded than ours has become. Pity we have to travel so far to do business. Have you traveled with females and children? A more miserable trip you’ll never take.” He shuddered for effect. “But I figure it can’t hurt replacing one royal in our pockets with another. After all, queens suffer from jealousy and insecurity, both of which make placing our female sthudai arduous tasks. Kings,” he said in a conspiratorial tone, “even future kings, I find, are much easier to please. Beautiful females are welcome and handsome males are, well, they have several uses I’ve heard.” His gaze skimmed over Dillon. “Pleasing wives and freeing husbands to play with their mistresses seemed to be the most popular application. I’m sure you would know.”
Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 Page 12