by Linda Kage
“Fuck you,” I mouthed to her.
She smirked and blew me a kiss.
“Want me to cook you a loaf?” Indigo asked Melaina, completely missing the byplay.
Brightening, she nodded. “Hell yes. Serve me, pretty boy. I’m famished.” She plopped herself languidly onto my bedroll and gave a long, satisfied groan as she stretched. “Lordy, that dip in the hot springs was nice, though. I had to finger myself to orgasm twice before leaving the water.”
Indigo choked on air and quickly cleared his throat, moving past her inappropriateness. “So whatever happened to the gingerbread man?” he asked, turning pointedly to me. “Did he ever get caught?”
“Gingerbread man?” Melaina lifted her head from the bedding. “Telling the High Clifter children’s stories now, are you?” She pointed at Indigo. “And, no. No one could ever catch the gingerbread man. He was too fast.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Don’t believe her. The sly fox tricked him by offering him a ride across a wide river on his tail, then on his back, and finally on his nose, where the fox ended up flipping him into his mouth and eating him whole.”
“Ah.” He nodded sagely, then pointed at me. “See. Didn’t I tell you it was possible to outthink anyone, even if they were faster than you?”
“No.” Melaina sniffed acerbically. “The moral of the story is to never trust the sly foxes of the world.”
“Because they’ll outwit you at your own game,” Indigo shot back with a smirk before he glanced between the two of us. “Are there a lot of stories like this on Earth? That one was absolutely fascinating.”
“Oh, hundreds,” Melaina answered. “Thousands. Quilla…” She snapped her fingers at me. “Tell him your favorite fantasy about the princess, Butterworth, or whatever her idiot name was, and her handsome lover, Westbrook.”
“Buttercup,” I said dryly. “Her name was Buttercup. And his name was Westley.”
“Whatever. Just tell him that one.” Glancing toward Indigo, she added, “This was always her favorite.”
“Was it?” He focused on me so intently, my insides warmed about ten degrees.
And so, I was forced to recount the story of the princess who was kidnapped by the Sicilian, the giant, and the master swordsman, only to be saved by her one true love so they could live happily ever after, riding off into the sunset together.
Indigo grinned knowingly as I finished. “So you do believe in true love, after all? Interesting.”
“It was a fairy tale,” I muttered lamely. “And I was a kid. Besides, my favorite parts were the fight scenes and stupid humor. Not the tacky romance.”
Lifting his eyebrows, because he had to be able to feel the lie bleeding off me, he placed a hand against his chest and said, “My lady, but I am a great warrior who’s superb at fighting and chock-full of stupid humor.”
“No,” Melaina countered. “You’re just chock-full of stupid.”
He frowned her way, only to turn back to me and lean closer, whispering, “I bet you find me humorous, don’t you? I mean, who else would try to convince you a soldier’s horse should be called a knight mare?”
I shook my head, unable to answer. Because, yeah, there was something slightly entertaining about him. And it was becoming addictive.
Grinning at me, as if he knew I didn’t want to admit such a thing aloud and appear weak and soft, he leaned away again and began to hum under his breath, that same upbeat tune he always hummed.
He was still lightly humming “Singin’ in the Rain” when he set up his bedroll that night, right next to mine again, and crawled under his covers to lie beside me, facing me with a dreamy smile.
Feeling stiff and uncomfortable because he was there, because I liked him there, and I didn’t want him to know just how much I wanted to roll toward him and burrow into his warmth, to clutch a fistful of his tunic and press my face against his warm heartbeat or feel his strong arms wrap around me, I swallowed thickly and gazed up at the stars overhead.
Remembering how wishing upon stars was a custom on Earth to promote hope in the heart, I curled my hands into tight balls until my fingernails bit into my palms and I wished for a life where it would be okay to give in to kindness and compassion. Where I could show Indigo just how much I did want all the things he was promising.
Next to me, he whispered, “Hey, Quilla.”
I closed my eyes, blocking out the stars and trying to block out the hope. “What?”
“Guess what?”
I sighed, making it sound like I was annoyed by his constant pestering while in all truth, I loved that hint of cheer and life and all things good in his voice.
He laughed lightly as if he’d figured out my charade, and it amused him.
“What?” I finally grumbled.
“You didn’t threaten to stab me all day today,” he answered, his hushed tone full of glee.
I didn’t have anything to say to that.
He shifted closer. “It was a good day.”
I breathed in a deep breath.
Yes. Yes, it had been.
Chapter 23
Indigo
We set out again the next morning, heading through the woods back toward the main road that would lead us to Tyler. We’d left later than usual because Melaina had insisted on visiting the hot springs yet again after we woke.
We’d probably reach the village by the end of the day, though, which still wasn’t sitting well with me. I really did not want to cross paths with my uncle. If there was anything he detested more than his resentment toward High Cliff, it was his loathing of all things Graykey. He would not take kindly to learning his High Cliff nephew had mated to a Graykey girl.
Quilla seemed quieter and more withdrawn than usual, however, so I ignored my own anxieties as I studied her on her horse, riding about twenty feet ahead of me. She didn’t seem upset or scared, or even particularly happy for that matter; she was mostly just contemplative. I had no idea what she was contemplating, but it was definitely taking up a good portion of her attention.
I glanced toward Melaina to see if she noticed Quilla’s mood and seemed worried by it. But Melaina was too busy muttering obscenities as she tried to untangle a strap that had become knotted as it held her pack onto her horse’s back.
I sighed. “Wait. Here. You’re making it worse.” Riding up to her side, I reached out and was able to untangle the straps with my hands bound together.
“Show-off,” she muttered, giving me a scowl.
I rolled my eyes as she trotted on ahead without even considering to say a simple thank you. Then I gave a silent chuckle because I hadn’t exactly expected her to either.
I began to hum “Singin’ in the Rain” again when pain zapped through my mark, making me gasp in surprise and press the heel of my palm to my temple, trying to staunch the agony. But just as quickly as the pain came, it was gone again.
Melaina glanced over and lifted a bored eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, shaking my head and trying to make sense of it. “One second, it felt like someone was stabbing my temple. The next…” My words died off as I realized something key.
Something Graykey.
I turned slowly toward the only blood-born Graykey present. “It was you,” I murmured in realization.
Gaping at me with wide eyes, Quilla shook her head and clutched her forearm to her chest. “No, I—”
“You were hurt,” I accused, swinging one leg over my saddle and leaping off Holly so I could rush to her side. Reaching up, I snagged her from her horse, already demanding, “Where? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said, pushing me away when I set her on the ground and immediately tried to search her for wounds. “Stop! I’m fine.”
“But you weren’t,” I argued. “I felt it.”
“Then you must’ve felt it stop hurting too, then, right? So you know I’m fine now. Jesus. Give me some space to breathe.”
Rea
lizing I was crowding her, I stopped edging closer and trying to find physical proof of her pain, but I couldn’t seem to back away and give her extra room either. “Where did it hurt?”
“My mark,” she started with an impatient sigh. “But it…” She shook her head, obviously not wanting to make a big deal about it.
“Let me see.” I took her elbow before she could object and evade my touch. Then I flipped her hand over and ran my finger along the soft inner side of her arm. The skin was intact, not even red or abraded. The temperature of the marked area felt exactly like the rest of her skin, too.
“Christ,” she muttered on a shiver as she yanked her hand back, out of my grip. She covered the mark with her palm. “It told you it was fine now.”
“What happened?” I demanded.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, shaking her head. “You’re the most annoyingly persistent man I’ve ever met. Nothing happened. My mark felt a little twinge, and then it went away.”
“A little twinge, how?” I pressed.
Melaina had ridden her horse closer and was watching our exchange with a confused squint.
“Like…” Quilla threw her hands in the air, clearly exasperated. “I don’t know, okay. There was this sudden heat as if my mark was on fire, or I was being branded or something. And then it was gone. There wasn’t even five seconds of pain. Certainly, nothing to cause this kind of commotion.”
“Branded,” I repeated, squinting as I glanced toward her aunt.
Melaina shook her head cluelessly, only to ask, “What does that mean?”
I shook my head too. “I’m not sure.” I returned my gaze to Quilla. “But I had a similar sensation like that happen to me once. To my love mark. I was in Far Shore, following Nicolette before she took over the reign. They didn’t take well to High Clifters being in their realm then, and this one band of locals set up a magical booby trap of sorts to catch my kind. The moment someone with a love mark stepped into the area they had sectioned off with a magical ward, an alarm would alert them to the trespass, and they could thereafter track the intruder. It’s how I ended up on a damn pyre about to be burned at the stake.”
Taking Quilla's arm, I lifted it to look at her mark. “I think someone here has a similar trap set up for Graykey marks. And you’ve just sprung it.”
Melaina shifted suddenly closer. “What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying we need to prepare because we’re about to get company. Violent company.” I glanced around, thinking quickly. When I spotted the unicorn, an idea formed. “Holly! Can you fly?”
Wings immediately grew from either side of her shoulders. They were great, white, feathered beauties that probably spanned fifteen feet when she spread them open, showing them off. She began to flap them so she could levitate a foot off the ground, and the wind current they created blew my hair back and pressed my tunic against my chest, making me take a step in reverse to catch myself.
I blinked, struck dumb for a second. “Um…” Well, that answered the flying question for sure, but, hmm…
“I, uh, I was thinking something a bit more inconspicuous. Like taking the form of a bird, possibly.”
Holly immediately turned into a pink flamingo.
Closing my eyes briefly, I bit back a sigh before wincing and saying, “Maybe something that’s indigenous to the area perhaps.” I really hated stifling her more flamboyant tastes, but I had an important mission here, and time was of the essence. “Something that blends in well.”
Please don’t get pissed off, I silently begged. But Holly didn’t seem offended by my agitated suggestions, and the flamingo promptly melted into an icy black raven.
“Yes!” I snapped my fingers and pointed. “Perfect. Thank you. Do you think you could fly above and scout the area? Let us know if it appears that anyone might be searching for us?”
Holly cawed in consent and took to the air.
“Now, you two,” I ordered, nodding toward Quilla and Melaina as I tugged my all-key from the necklace that rested inside my shirt. “Gather all the weapons you have and prepare yourselves for battle.”
“Battle?” Melaina repeated incredulously as I tucked the key pendant between my teeth then brought the shackles at my wrists up to my mouth. “Are you exaggerating about some non-existent threat again, boy? Just like you did at the canyon—hey!”
Her mouth dropped open as I unlocked my shackles.
“What the hell?”
I glanced down as the chains fell away from my wrists and landed on the ground between my feet. “Oh. Sorry, you probably want these back.” I bent and picked them up, then tossed them her way. “Here you go.”
She caught the chains against her chest and kept staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “So you could get out of those any time you wanted?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” I answered in a distracted voice, as I rushed to my pack and began to yank out weapons.
“Then why the hell did you keep wearing them this whole time?”
I glanced at my true love’s aunt as I clicked my magical leather wrist guards into place where the shackles had been. “You’re the one who said I’d be more appealing to her with them on.”
“And you actually believed me?”
I shrugged and pocketed a handful of daggers. “I mean, it didn’t hurt anything to test the theory.”
“So you’ve been lying to us this whole time?” Quilla broke in.
Pausing, I took in her expression. She looked so aghast and betrayed I immediately shook my head. “I wasn’t lying. I was being accommodating.” I could be accommodating when I wished. “I was trying to be considerate and mindful of your wishes. And you seemed to be more at ease with me bound, so I remained bound. For you.”
“For me?” she sputtered as if that idea were preposterous.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t for me,” I countered, circling her and Melaina as I scanned the area for invaders. “If I wanted to do anything for my own benefit, I would’ve taken the damn things off days ago! Do you realize how inconvenient it is for your hands to be bound together all day long?”
She slapped stern fists to her hips as she turned to follow my progress with a scowl. “So what the hell else can you do that you haven’t told us about?”
I gave her a quick grin. “All kinds of things.”
But before I could even begin to list them, the caw of a raven echoed overhead.
I looked up, forgetting everything else. “They’re coming,” I announced and pointed. “From that direction.”
“Oh, Jesus. Here we go again,” Melaina muttered. “You and your melodramatic obsession with thinking we’re always in danger.”
“Because you are always in danger,” I argued, squinting through the trees. “There.” I pointed. “Hear that? Horses. Someone’s coming.”
“Probably other travelers, you moron.”
Lord have mercy. Melaina had to be the most stubborn woman ever created. “If it were other travelers, why are they coming through the forest and not down the damn roadway that’s literally on the other side of those trees?”
The first rider appeared from between the branches and leaves, running pell-mell toward us with a raised ax. Then more emerged, seeming to bleed straight from the woods before they fully formed before us. And more emerged behind them.
And more.
And more.
All of them brandished weapons and rushed forward in attack mode.
“Graykey scum!” one of them shouted, making their intent obvious.
“Holy shit!” Melaina cried from somewhere behind me. “There are dozens of them!”
“Yeah. I didn’t count on there being quite this many.” Shit. I backed toward Quilla, holding out my hand to block her from the oncoming riders. “We probably should’ve run.”
When I glanced over at her, my gaze was full of apology. I hadn’t kept her safe. I had failed.
But all she did was lift her sword, prepared to engage. “Too late for that now.”
&n
bsp; “Quilla,” her aunt warned. “It’s never too late to run.”
Except it was. The leader of the pack had already reached us and was leaping from his saddle with a war cry. He landed heavily, battle-ax still raised before he pushed upright to charge.
Directly at my mate.
Somehow, he knew she was the marked one. Not good.
I rushed to intercept, catching the attacker by surprise and slashing him through the middle so that he folded in on himself and damn near melted to the ground. He’d been so intent on her, it was like he hadn’t even noticed me.
The next wave of three riders noticed me, though. They came straight for me, swords raised. Two remained mounted, while the third leaped off his saddle to confront me on foot. The first blade swung toward my head. I met it with my own, blocking the death blow, and while our blades were still interlocked, I kicked out, planting the heel of my boot in the chest of the pursuer rushing forward on foot, knocking him to the side and straight into the path of the third man who was swinging a chain mace at me. He caught his comrade instead, causing the man to cry out and topple over.
Twisting my sword to break free of the blade linked with mine, I stepped to the side with a suddenness that caused the rider to lose his balance and tumble off his mount. I slashed him in the back on his way down to help him land harder.
With a snap of my wrist, I activated the shield I had magically hidden in my leather cuffs, and a latticed network of electric strips immediately sprang out over the back of my forearm. I lifted the crackling shield of pure lightning just as a chain mace ball full of spikes swung at my head. It hit the shield instead, and the electric lines seemed to grip the metal ball and follow the chain down to the hilt where it electrocuted the hand of the man holding it. He screamed and flew back away from me, blood pouring from his ears while black soot covered his face.
A feminine gasp followed and alarming distress spiked through my love mark, telling me Quilla was engaging with her own assailants. I swung around in time to see her fling her dagger at one man charging her. It flipped through the air before flashing past his face, missing him by a hair. She grappled in her pocket for another blade, but I was faster, pulling up my own and whipping it out. It stuck into the center of his back, causing him to fall face-first into the dirt before her.