A fierce wave of possessiveness I didn’t wholly understand washed over me.
Mine, I thought.
I started as Gerik’s arm tightened around me and then easily flipped me onto my back. Looking down at me with an expression just as fierce as the unexpected emotions coursing through me, he regarded me gravely. “And you, Trinity, are mine.”
He didn’t give me time enough to respond before his mouth crashed down upon mine.
******
Marcell was buried where the wildflowers grew the tallest and were the most plentiful. In time they would once again cover the ground where the earth had been disturbed. The Romani had placed both jewelry and money in the ground with him for his journey back to nature. Food and drink were placed atop his grave, as was their long-standing tradition in reverence of their dead.
Death had crept into camp. No longer was the inside of camp safe from the destruction of the outside world. We had been breached, someone had died, and the Romani wore that knowledge as plain as the expressions on their faces.
The camp still looked the same, chores still had to be done, the children still laughed and played, and we still burned through the darkness with our fire meetings. Life as usual went on, but death’s ugly pall had settled over top of us. Something inside of me feared that this was only the beginning. It was that very fear that had me thinking how useless I’d been when Xan and I were attacked. I may not be a Roma and I may not have magic, but that didn’t mean I had to go on being helpless.
I had just finished dish duty when I set out to find Xan. Near the wood pile, an axe slung lazily over his bare shoulder, he waited for Shandor to place another thick log on the wide tree stump used for splitting them into firewood.
As usual, he was shirtless as he worked; his jeans rode low on his hip bones, highlighting the sharp, muscular cut of his waist. My gaze snagged on the red and ragged slashes on his biceps and across his chest and guilt settled heavily upon me. I didn’t do anything to help him. I had been completely useless.
“Hey Trin-ity,” Shandor said in a singsong voice, shifting my attention to him. He looked from me to Xan and back to me with a sly smile on his face.
I scowled at him just as Xan slung the axe down. Shandor and I had to jump back a few feet in order to avoid the wood splatter.
“Thanks for the warning.” I shook out my sundress, now covered in bits of moss and wood chips.
Without looking at me, he shrugged.
He picked up another log, causing the muscles in his arm to flex and bulge. I stared until Shandor began coughing emphatically. The axe came down hard again and the wood split with an audible crack. One piece fell one way and the other fell to the opposite side. The smell of fresh cut oak tinged the air.
Using the crook of his elbow to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Xan finally turned to look at me, his dark eyes cold. “Something I can do for you, fată?”
I looked back up at Shandor and saw amusement riding his features. It had been hard enough working up the courage to ask Xan for this; I absolutely could not do it in front of Shandor.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked him.
“No.”
Both surprise and embarrassment caused me to take an instant step back. “No?” I repeated dumbly.
“You got a problem hearing me, Trin?”
“What’s your problem, Xan?” I asked, without thinking, “Why are you being such a bastard?” Eyes wide at my mistake, I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Shandor burst out laughing. “Because he is one!”
Xan slung the axe down into the tree stump, securing it firmly into the wood. He glanced at me, his demeanor deceptively calm. Suddenly, he swiveled to the right and landed a quick punch to Shandor’s gut, who immediately doubled over with a groan.
“Son of a bitch,” Shandor seethed, glaring up at his friend.
Xan shrugged. “You keep talking shit about my mamă and I’ll keep knocking some sense into you, frate.”
Then he turned on me, gripped my elbow and dragged me some feet away.
“Trin, do me a favor and leave me alone.”
I gaped at him. What was his problem?
“What is your problem?”
“You’re a complication I just don’t need in my life.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He raised both hands in the air in an exasperated gesture. “Do you see me hanging around girls like you? Girls who can barely take care of themselves, let alone know what to do with a guy? I’m not sure exactly what you’re thinking, fată – that because we shared some life threatening experience together we were going to become best friends?” He snorted. “Sorry Trin, not gonna happen.”
Shocked and hurt, I could only stare at him, unable to do anything about the tears that were forming.
“You…you…are…” I choked on my words as the tears began to fall.
“Yeah, I know what I am.” He gave me a humorless smile. “Now go find Gerik. He’ll give you a hug and make it all better. Probably should go before he sees you talking to me anyway.” Xan turned to go.
His reaction to me, his hurtful words, suddenly made some sense. “He threatened you, didn’t he?” I asked quietly. Xan paused.
Feeling bolder, I continued, “He threatened you to stay away from me and you’re listening because you’re afraid of him!”
It was absolutely the wrong thing to say to a guy like Xan.
He closed the distance between us quickly, his dark eyes blackening with anger, the kind of anger only a guy like Xan knew. Anger that grew heavy and deep in between years and years of resentment, festering like an infected wound until the flesh was so decayed there was no going back, no healing from the pain.
“Fată,” he growled, leaning close to me. “I’m not scared of anything, just didn’t want my mamă to have to bury me is all. Probably would upset her.”
“Oh,” I whispered, swallowing hard. “Yeah, it probably would.”
“So what then, Trin?” he asked, his voice low and his body close enough that I could smell the scent of wood and sweat on his skin. “You want to go fuck somewhere?”
“What!” I sputtered. “No! I only wanted you to teach me how to fight!”
His eyes widened and he took a step back. Amusement spread across his harsh features.
“And,” I continued, “shoot a gun.”
“Shoot? As in shoot a real gun? Why?”
“I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again,” I told him, referring to the night we were attacked. A look of in intrigue lightened his features and I could’ve sworn he was fighting a laugh.
“Okay,” he conceded.
“Okay?” It couldn’t be this easy.
He made a face. “Yes, Trin, I said okay.”
He came forward again and I tensed at his nearness. “Do you know why I’m gonna do it?” I shook my head, unable to speak. “Because, fată, I’m not afraid of Gerik.”
Then he kissed me.
My shoulders hit the nearest RV with a loud thud as he pushed me backwards. When I gasped in shock, he used the reaction to force his way into my mouth, not caring whether I responded to him or not. He continued to trespass, taking what he wanted, giving nothing in return.
It was a kiss meant to show dominance. He wanted me to know how much he didn’t care about Gerik. How much he didn’t value his life.
There was nothing exciting or sexual about it. That wasn’t even the worst of it. I could have dealt with Xan’s impulsive display of control, his reckless need to prove that Gerik’s strength or magic wasn’t a concern of his. It was the wrongness of the kiss that truly shocked me. It was the revulsion that shot through my senses and the pain that prickled my nerve endings, all because of one kiss.
I instantly recoiled from Xan, trying hard to end the kiss. My mouth had become one of two repelling magnets desperate to get as far away from the other as quickly as possible.
Long seconds passed until he pulled away from me
, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. I almost fell over trying to get away from him.
“Next week after your chores. Front lot on the opposite side of the creek. If you’re not there, Trin, don’t come near me again.”
I watched him stalk away, while I stood stock still, still reeling from the kiss. Had Gerik done this to me? Had he cast some sort of guy repellent spell?
Having never kissed any other guy aside from Gerik, and as of two seconds ago, Xan, I wouldn’t know. I suddenly wished I’d taken advantage of all of those guys who had asked me out on dates back when life had been normal.
I found Becki sitting on the front steps to our trailer staring forlornly at a patch of grass in front of her.
She looked up as I approached. “Bad day?”
I shrugged. “More like painfully educational. You?”
“That about sums it up.” She went back to studying her grass.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hungary, 1070 A.C.E
Treime felt him before she saw him, smelled the sweet perfume that was Emilian, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. It was the perfect ambush. He never spoke to her anymore. He even went as far as to purposely avoid her at times, so she was determined to get him alone and rekindle their friendship.
“Treime! Treime, get your skinny butt back to camp!”
She giggled. God, how she missed him. She was shivering, not because of the snow, but from the knowledge that she just might get to touch him tonight. It had been so long since she’d felt the warmth their skin could create by just a mere touch.
Shifting purposely on the tree branch, she caused a lump of snow to drift to the ground. Emilian looked up immediately and scowled at her.
“Get down right now, brat!”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Get down, Treime!” he growled. “Everyone is exchanging gifts tonight for Yule and I don’t want to be stuck out here in the cold with you.”
She sniffed, insulted by his cruel words.
No matter how hard she tried, he refused to pay her any attention. He paid other girls lots of attention. She watched him sneak off with them all the time. Had even caught him kissing other clan girls while she got nothing more than glares, dirty looks and lots of lectures.
At ten and four years she was dreaming of her first kiss, had even had several boys try to kiss her, but she had been repulsed by the prospects. It had to be Emilian. There’d never be anyone else, but there must be something wrong with her since he seemed to hate her so much.
“TREIME!” He roared.
“Okay, okay.” She jumped down, falling hard on her bottom. Emilian laughed as she tried desperately to wipe the snow off her kirtle.
“You’re soaking wet now,” he scolded.
“What do you care?” She threw back at him, defiantly crossing her arms.
He threw his arms up in the air and shook his head causing his long brown hair, now damp from the snow, to fall in his eyes.
“You’re right. I don’t. Now go.” He pointed in the direction of the camp.
Tears stung her eyes. She never understood what she had done to deserve such treatment.
“Treime! Start walking!” Emilian grabbed her arm. “Get mov –” He paused.
“Treime? Oh, Treime, why are you crying? I didn’t mean…”
She looked up at him through watery eyes. “Why do you hate me?” she whispered through chattering teeth.
“Hate you?” He laughed as he captured her cheek in his palm. Both of them instantly felt the heat their touch caused. Treime gasped and Emilian closed his eyes. When he opened them again he took a moment to swipe a few of her tears away with his thumb. “I don’t hate you.”
“But…you never play with me anymore. You never talk to me, we never run. You just yell at me and–”
“Treime, stop.”
She looked up at him. His brown hair was covered in snowflakes and his breath was coming out in short little white puffs. His brown eyes had turned gray and what she saw in their depths made her want to weep.
Emilian had once been her playmate and her best friend. He’d always be the most handsome boy she’d ever seen, but now… he was what? Emilian was a man now, full grown, who thought her still a child. She knew she didn’t belong in his life at all.
Emilian sighed, a deep heavy sigh, and she knew this was the moment where he would tell her to leave him alone for good.
“I wanted to let you have your childhood for as long as you could. For as long as I could stand it…”
“I don’t understand?”
“Micuțo, it’s simple. We are betrothed. We have been since you came into this world as a red-faced babe.”
Her heart stopped beating. Betrothed! To Emilian? This was the best Yule gift she could have gotten! Emilian smiled seeing her face light up and gathered her in his arms. Suddenly, she needed more of him. She wanted to be…even closer to him. She was burning from their contact in a way she had never experienced before. Grasping frantically at his furs, she tightened her hold on him and aligned her body with his.
Emilian stiffened at the intimate contact.
She flushed, embarrassed at his rejection of her.
“All of those girls, Emilian!” She accused. “You can kiss and touch them, but not me! Don’t even try to deny it! I have seen you!”
She screamed when he tried to reach for her again. “God only knows what else you did with them!”
“I am one and twenty Treime and you are seven years younger than me. A child! I…I just…”
When he didn’t say anything else Treime stomped her feet and turned away. Tears formed again in her eyes.
“You were betrothed to me! And you…with them! You are a liar and…and you are IMMORAL!”
“I had to!” Emilian bellowed, startling her. “You were and still are a child!”
“I’m not a child!” she yelled. “And I will never marry you!”
Even as she said the words she knew they weren’t true. There was no one else she would ever want but the man in front of her.
Hurt and angry, she took off fleeing through the woods.
It didn’t take long for Emilian to catch up to her. He was still faster, still bigger and much stronger. He swooped her up from behind and swung her around through the air.
“You’re acting like a child,” he said, breathing heavily as he placed her gently on the ground, still clutching her from behind.
“I’m not a child,” she whispered, on the verge of crying again. She hated herself for feeling so vulnerable and for being so weak. It had felt as if Emilian had possessed her very soul since the first day she could remember, but it had never been the same for him. She ached so badly inside she wanted to scream, to beat the earth from the unfairness of it all until it bled with understanding.
“You will marry me, Treime. I have waited for you and will continue to wait until you are old enough, but then you will marry me.” Emilian spun her roughly around and shook her. His eyes were dark, his anger hot and thick around them. “You have no say or choice in the matter.”
“And you always get what you want, don’t you?” She thought of the Gaje girl at the well so long ago. She wondered how many other girls he’d used magic on to get what he wanted.
Emilian’s eyes widened.
“Little one, I didn’t force her,” he said gently. “All the magic did was intensify what she was already feeling.”
Treime started. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
Emilian smiled. “We’re special, Treime, but you…you were special before you were even born. The Baró and all the elders knew that you were coming and that you were to be mine.”
“You’ve known about us since before I was born?”
“I did. I was terrified of you at first. Then I saw those big green eyes of yours, and you smelled so beautiful and…”
He tilted his head and smiled at her again, a different kind of smile, one that made her feel not so childish
and caused a warming sensation low in her belly.
“And what?” Her cheeks heated under his gaze.
Emilian’s lips met hers in a soft kiss that was slow and sweet and achingly tender. When he pulled away, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and their eyes locked.
“I kissed you micuțo. I knew then I was forever lost.”
CHAPTER NINE
Present Day
And I thought learning how to use a gun would be challenging. Xan wanted me to learn how to breathe, but not before he gave me a speech about it.
“Stress is gonna screw you up. Breathing correctly will help you with both fighting and shooting. It’s gonna relax you and get your blood flowing properly.”
He had me lying down on the grass inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling twice as hard through my mouth.
“Focus on ridding all of the tension in your body, especially your hands.”
He kept repeating, “Your hands need to be steady, that’s the most important thing. Steady hands.” Steady hands. Steady hands. He said it so much I was afraid I would be saying it in my sleep.
“How do you feel fată?”
I yawned. “Fine.”
“Good. Let’s get started then.”
Xan didn’t hand me a shotgun like most of the guys carried. Instead he gave me a small gun, a smooth black semi-automatic. His reasoning for this –
“I give you anything with a higher caliber, fată, and your delicate little self isn’t going to be able to operate it.”
I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to learn how to use a weapon, not fight with Xan about what kind of weapon I should use or what a sexist pig he was. I was a little disappointed, though. I’d seen the bigger ones blow huge holes in those creatures. That was the kind of power I was looking for.
That afternoon he taught me how to take out the magazine, how to empty it, reinsert it, and had me doing dry fire drills all morning. It was mind numbing. By lunch time I wanted to shoot him, only I had no bullets in the gun.
“What’s that look for, Trin? You think I’d let you near me with a loaded gun before you know how to use it?” He grinned. “I may be beautiful but I’m not stupid.”
The Holy Trinity Trilogy Page 6