Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts

by D. F. Jones

Anael slowly pulled his hand back, turning it over as if he could not believe she had actually hit him. Apparently satisfied, he placed his hand at his side. With a lifted brow, he said, “You judge me, High Priestess.”

  “I simply state facts, Anael. I am a logical woman. I understand that you had to use your skills to survive here.” Taking the hand she had just struck, she reached for his other hand.

  He complied, placing his hands in hers.

  She bowed her head and recited a quick prayer of thanks.

  He did not bow.

  “We may have lost the One God’s blessing,” Alerian explained. “But we believe in showing respect. A prayer of thanks before imbibing and consuming the resources he provides is very little to ask.”

  “Your beliefs do not concern me,” he rudely stated, “but I hear the misguided sense of righteousness in your voice, and it reminds me why I find your previous statement amusing,” he said, assuming a seat next to her.

  “What statement?”

  “A logical woman. There is no such thing.” His facial expression turned serious as if his ridiculous conclusion was a foregone fact.

  “If I were not logical, I would call you an ass right now, but I see you are simply a man who will have to be educated. As one of three women in an army of men, educating opinionated idiots is one of my specialties. Of course, the fact that you lived in this cave for years speaks volumes as well.”

  He laughed aloud.

  She stared at him, and no matter how hard she tried to be angry about his chauvinistic statement, her heart seemed to leap toward him. She had never heard him laugh out loud before, his deep baritone echoing around her, projected from the cave’s walls. The sound incited a thrill in her lower belly. Popping several leaves from the greens into her mouth, she continued to watch him, mesmerized by the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. She could not help wondering about their sleeping arrangements. She also wondered how many other women he had brought here.

  As if he read her mind…part of it, anyway, he pointed. “You are welcome to the cot.”

  “Where will you sleep?” The question escaped before she could catch herself.

  “Do not trouble yourself about me. I am accustomed to sleeping on the floor. The woman should have the bed.” Once again, his logic sounded like the cold recitation of an ingrained rule instead of anything related to his feelings.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but out of nowhere, images of him with another woman flashed before her, eliciting unexpected emotions – anger and pain – and she had to fight to regain her focus. Still, more than ever, she wanted to know how Anael had been raised, what kind of life he had before showing up at their compound.

  Chapter 4

  After they finished the light meal, Alerian stood. “How do you keep the demons out?”

  Anael stood as well, as attentive as ever. “This place is protected by prayers. How may I be of service now, High Priestess?”

  “Stop that. You should be comfortable calling me my given name by now, and I have not asked you to ‘be of service.’ It’s just the two of us.” She offered him a smile that he did not return.

  Sighing, she beckoned for him to follow her. “Come.” Self-deprivation was not something she practiced. She couldn’t wait to return to the hot spring for a bath, and she enjoyed having him close to her.

  This time, she led him through the narrow tunnel.

  When they reached the other room, Anael stepped around her and bent down to sample the water inside the spring, placing his hand in the water first, then dipping his entire arm in before beckoning for her to join him.

  After testing the water with her toes, she immediately began to undress.

  Anael stood, backing away as if to leave.

  “Anael, you are welcome to stay and guard me if you deem it necessary.”

  He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do not play games with me, Alerian.”

  “I tire of games, Anael.” Unable to understand why her visions continued to reveal nothing about him other than the two moons, she decided to take more drastic measures. Her gift of precognition had always worked best when she was able to touch a person or object. She told herself this was part of her strategy, but she also acknowledged that she wanted Anael in ways she had never wanted another. Her body craved him.

  Always thinking about outcomes, she stood before him bereft of clothing or armor, hoping that her show of vulnerability would weaken his shell. “My body wants you, but I need to know who you really are.”

  Anael was on her in two long strides, quickly removing his clothes as well. When he kissed her, every thought seemed to disintegrate. He stopped briefly, gazing into her eyes as if he needed to make sure he had her permission.

  She reached up, clasping her hands behind his neck and pulled him to her again, intensifying their kisses. Nothing existed in her world other than the two of them. She wanted to feel him all over her, inside her, and he obliged. As they moved together, she caught glimpses of his childhood, a beautiful little boy with baby blue eyes standing alone, always alone watching others from a distance. He awakened pleasure zones she’d never imagined, fulfilling needs she had buried. His passionate yet tender embrace assured her that his feelings were genuine. This feeling of oneness could drive any soul to extreme measures.

  Anael

  Anael lifted himself from the cave first, carrying the satchel, then turned to help Alerian.

  “We will have to move swiftly to reach another safe place before nightfall,” he said. “If it becomes too much for you, I will carry you.”

  Instead of the reaction he expected, her beautiful eyes flashed with venom. “Do you think that just because you’ve bedded me, I suddenly cannot keep up?”

  He shook his head. “No.” There was no time to argue and he had no desire to do so, anyway. Images from the first time he saw her reminded him that there was no need for concern. She didn’t recognize him, but he had watched her from the other side of the battleground, her movements graceful and elegant like the avenging angel she was. There had never been another who drew his attention or moved the way she did.

  Certain that she would think him insane if she knew his stay in the Forbidden Zone had also been because of her, he kept his reactions tightly leashed, a skill he had mastered long ago.

  “You’ve strayed too far, angel assassin,” a voice drifted to his ears from the fog.

  The voice echoed around him, making it hard to determine its origin. Damnit! The demon’s voice was not familiar. Due to Anael’s shady alliances, he had maintained an ‘understanding’ with most inhabitants of the Forbidden Zone, but this wasn’t one of them.

  Anael pulled Alerian closer, shielding as much of her body as possible with his own, but she had already drawn her sword. Attempting to ascertain the location of the voice, he held onto her, continuing to move forward as quickly as possible until four figures blocked their path.

  One of the demons stepped in front of the other three, his small black eyes glaring at Alerian. “And I see you have a new friend. We don’t want more of your kind here.”

  Anael heard the blood pumping in his head, pounding rapidly like rushing rapids.

  Before he could respond, the demons attacked, immediately repositioning themselves as reinforcements emerged until he and Alerian were surrounded.

  Anael and the lead demon swung simultaneously, the demon with its claws and Anael with his sword, slipping it from his back between his wings in an instant to block the attack. Anael counted at least fourteen – far too many for the two of them to overcome. Despite the impossible odds, he would not go down without a fight. Successful at blocking the initial attack, he shifted his weight, moving his feet and slightly lifting to gain more leverage as the other demons moved in. He could see Alerian from the corner of his eye. She commanded her sword with confidence, the same compelling fire in her beautiful eyes as he had witnessed the first time he’d ever seen her.

  The
sloshing sound of at least four inches of water accompanied each step as she parried, blocked, dodged, and advanced, her long dress dragging along the sodden ground behind her.

  Despite the cold wind, the two of them managed to hold their opponents at bay until several demons took flight, seemingly buoyed by the wind, climbing higher and higher, then swooping down on them.

  More concerned about Alerian, Anael watched her from the corner of his eye as she released her golden wings, lifting herself to meet them in the air.

  Two of the demons immediately cornered her with one at her back.

  Anael saw what was coming but couldn’t reach her fast enough to completely shield her. As the demon at her back slashed out at her beautiful wings, Anael leapt between them just in time to catch the blow with his leg.

  The monster raked upward, catching his hip as well.

  Though loath to call for backup as was his birthright, Anael placed Alerian’s life above his desire to gain her trust. He could not protect her in this condition, and the idea of allowing her to be killed because of his need to keep his identity secret was unthinkable. His rapid healing ability would not work until he rested, and he could not leave Alerian to fight alone. Left with no other recourse, Anael centered himself and recited the words to call on his ancestors. He had only used this gift once before, the day his father was killed by the Appointed army. Without the gift, his life and his brother’s would have both been forfeited as well.

  Milliseconds later, he felt their presence before they became visible, shrouded by the cold fog. Appearing and disappearing rhythmically like flickering lights, his ancestors moved in a small horde, surrounding and devouring the attacking demons.

  Moments later, they were gone, leaving him face to face with Alerian, whose horrified expression tore into his chest, causing even greater pain than his leg and hip.

  Alerian

  Alerian pressed the point of her sword into the side of Anael’s neck just enough to draw blood, the thin red line causing flashbacks of her father’s fatal wound. “Liar. You’re of the Fallen. Nobody has the power to call on demons except children of the Fallen, you lying bastard. Tell me why you infiltrated our compound, or I’ll kill you right now.” She kept her voice as calm as possible while anger and hurt warred in her belly, each one vying for top billing. Just as she was starting to trust him.

  “If I hadn’t called them, you would be dead. I came to protect you, Alerian. I gave your brother my word, and I intend to keep it.”

  She pressed harder, drawing more blood only to watch it roll slowly down his neck, disappearing beneath his clothing.

  Glaring at her, even now, he refused to tell her the truth.

  Part of her wanted to press again, but her instincts raged against that part. Anael had been with her brother when their father was killed, and the fact that he had shielded her with his own body did not escape her.

  “I think my leg is broken,” he stated softly

  “Come on.” She sighed, helping him take a few steps.

  He directed her toward the closest cover.

  Not only was Anael tall and well-built, he was heavy. By the time they reached cover, Alerian was exhausted.

  Unlike Anael’s cave, this shelter was bare-bones, consisting of a few leaves and a tree with heavier branches than the others they had encountered so far. Rain showers had been off and on. The tree’s limbs kept most of the rain from them though, and Alerian was thankful. If she didn’t do something soon, Anael would not be able to walk at all. He was already losing a good deal of blood. “Try to remain as still as possible, so I don’t hurt you.”

  He seemed to be studying her, but he quickly complied.

  After helping to stabilize Anael against the large tree, Alerian leaned over him and rechecked the severity of the wound, then ripped the remaining cloth away before proceeding. She closed her eyes, drawing fire, the unique gift that she protected even more carefully than her gift of precognition. Only her father and Raguel had ever known about it. “Very still, all right?”

  He nodded, continuing to watch her closely.

  Her body felt like a furnace, burning from the inside as she focused her energy on cauterizing the wound. The fire in her gaze seared Anael’s torn skin and muscle, helping to close the wound to infection.

  Afterward, Anael stared at her, seemingly frozen in place before shifting his leg as if to try it out. “Thank you. The rest will heal while I sleep. I only need two hours.”

  Completely exhausted now, Alerian sat down beside him with her sword drawn. Not only was her body tired, but her mind needed rest as well. She needed him stable and ambulatory if they were to make it to the Fallen compound. Once again, her visions showed her absolutely nothing about Anael or his intentions. One thing she knew though—he had risked his life for her.

  Chapter 5

  Pain swept through Alerian’s back. She tried to wake up but to no avail. Her head felt as if it had been struck with a large, massive boulder. In and out of consciousness, she caught slivers of the sky, fog, and then, nothing. Anael.

  She knew she should be concerned about herself, but in Anael’s wounded condition, he was in unspeakable danger out in the open.

  Fighting her way to consciousness was like swimming against the tide.

  She kept slipping under again, only to awake to the same searing pain. Voices wafted down to her ears, but she couldn’t make out the words. Someone was dragging her, but where, and why hadn’t they killed her already?

  Despite her efforts, she drifted off again, only to wake up in unfamiliar surroundings.

  “Take her to the High Priest.”

  Those words told her exactly where she was. She had been brought ‒ dragged actually ‒ to the compound of the Fallen, her destination all along. Her initial plan had been to sneak up on them, but this could work too, she hoped.

  Moments later, three guards deposited her inside the temple. She needed to know two things – what happened, and where was Anael. Human bodies littered the floor, scattered parts here and there, and the putrid stench was nearly unbearable as she knelt there, waiting for the Fallen’s High Priest to make an entrance. The entire place was the exact opposite of her home. She wanted to ask about Anael, but thought better of it. The fewer words she spoke, the better.

  She heard footsteps approaching from behind her just before a familiar pair of ice-blue eyes met her own. They were Anael’s eyes, the same blue, the very same look of disdain, just as every other facial feature matched his, but different. The eyes glaring at her had a cruel edge, and Anael no longer looked at her with disdain. In fact, she had seen him smile a few times. Mentally shaking herself, she assumed whatever they drugged her with must still be in her system, clouding her ability to think clearly. Despite her somewhat lacking ability to find clarity, the remaining pieces started falling in place.

  Twins.

  The realization slapped her with cold, hard truth - Jael, High Priest of the Fallen, and Anael, whom she couldn’t stop worrying about and couldn’t quell her desire for, were twins.

  Is there anything Anael hasn’t lied about?

  While carefully maintaining a stoic outward appearance, a boiling cauldron of emotions she couldn’t begin to decipher raged inside. The stabbing pain in her lower belly became so intense, she nearly fell to her knees.

  She truly cared about Anael.

  How could she have fallen so easily?

  “It is my pleasure to finally meet the beautiful female warrior, the one who has killed so many of my men.” Jael bent lower, took her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm.

  This seemingly benign action felt like hundreds of spiders crawling slowly across her skin.

  Jael raised Alerian’s arm and gently pulled her to her feet, then led her through the array of body parts and up three steps until she stood before the throne.

  After barreling around the stone altar, Jael grabbed her jaw and roughly lifted her head until their eyes met. “I will deal with you later. Fami
ly comes first.” He offered her a dazzling grin that did not reach his cold blue eyes, then turned away, calling to someone behind her. “Unchain my brother and bring him to me.” Jael frowned as if rethinking. “Wait! On second thought, leave the chains in place when you bring him.”

  Alerian’s mind worked overtime. She wasn’t sure how she felt about hearing Anael was alive – fearful because Anael had been captured, or relieved that perhaps – everything that had happened between them had not been a lie.

  Anael

  Anael woke to find himself locked in a cell. He shifted his leg and found it completely healed, then stood, pacing in circles. He had learned that at his brother’s command, the Fallen scouts had located him and Alerian, deployed gas to render them unconscious, then brought them here. His swords had been removed while he was unconscious, and he could only imagine what was being done to Alerian. He was accustomed to the stench of piss, nervous sweat, and the illusion of privacy darkness created, but what he could not bear was fear. Worrying about someone he cared about was new to him. Folding his arms across his chest, he continued to circle the cell, unable to sit or stand still.

  The cell door clanked open and two guards stepped inside. “Commander, come with us.” Surprisingly, they showed him respect despite his long absence and current shitload of trouble. These were men with whom he had fought side by side, and he had trained many of the guards as well.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The High Priest wants to see you.”

  “Remove these cuffs. You know I would never hurt my own brother.”

  The guards glanced at each other as they got closer to the temple, but refused to free him.

  Alerian

  * * *

  Alerian’s heart sank. Anael looked directly into her eyes and showed no sign of recognition when the guards brought him into the temple. He simply stood there with his hands in chains, waiting.