Daybreak (6 page)
“Why would you ask that?”
“Curiosity. And to point out your nonverbal communication.” That single finger traced the seam of her cloak and pushed between, still following skin. “You flinched. That was obvious enough. A startled response to an unexpected question. Your heart rate picked up, too. I can see there at your jugular. Pupils dilated. Even your scent changed.”
He grinned. Nothing about the expression was pleasant, even as his touch flirted with the inner curve of her left breast. He remained as closed off while smiling as he did when scowling.
Pen gave him blankness right back.
“My scent?” She shoved his hand away. “You think you’re amazing, don’t you?”
He shrugged, then washed his hands and face with efficient motions. “Still doesn’t answer the question. Would you save me, Penelope?”
“Depends on whether the expended energy was likely to garner anything useful.”
“How about some meat? Maybe that’s a fair trade for healing.” Without even looking toward Pen for permission, he grabbed one of the knives off her holster where it draped across a low branch, and used it to gut the fresh kill. “Seems you already think you can buy my services. That makes you no better than me.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Like I said. Curiosity. I never met a living deity before.”
“A living—?”
“So I figure I better make sure I have what it takes to hang with such august company.”
Pen ran her tongue over her teeth, grounding herself in that sharp pain.
But even as he nettled, he never stopped working. Each slice had purpose and symmetry. Sunlight climbing to a steeper angle cast heavy shadows below his prominent cheekbones. Sweat gathered on his upper lip. The cotton of his shirt was thin, patched, and often worn.
She needed him—for more than just his hunting skills as a lion and as a human. She traveled alone for a reason, always keeping her powers in check. Otherwise she risked lives. Had she been alone, she would have no trouble tracking down the Mäkinen camp. No life to risk other than her own. And no humiliation if it turned out to be a wild-goose chase, one born of her own lunatic brain.
Adrian complicated matters. He was young and needed protection. His worshipful attitude meant he wouldn’t question her leadership at all. She didn’t trust herself with that responsibility.
Watching Tru in silence, she lost track of the conversation until he stopped. Faced her. “What do you want?” He stressed the last word with low, husky insinuation.
She shivered. Naked beneath the cloak, her body responded with a jolt. Part sexual awareness. Part nerves that he could rile her so easily.
“The truck was heading north toward the mountains. Rumor has it that O’Malley himself makes his home there, in a fortress bounded by woods. The guard on the truck confirmed at least that much. I would’ve liked to learn more from men like him, but a lion appeared out of nowhere.”
He grinned. “Gonna introduce yourself to the general?”
“He needs to be killed and his organization dismantled.”
“Says who? We have bullets because of O’Malley. People like him make the wheels turn.” Another one of those infuriating shrugs.
“You’d trade Adrian to reload?”
“What does this have to do with me?” he asked, folding his arms with deliberate patience.
She forced a breath of calm, although the ache he caused wouldn’t dissipate so easily. “The prisoners on the truck confirmed what I suspected. There’s a camp organized by someone named Arturi Mäkinen. He has powerful magic, but is reputed to be a man of peace. Rumor has it that’s changing, that his people plan to take on O’Malley—a real resistance here in the east. Free those who’ve been taken hostage. Take down the general.”
“And you want me to what—
help
them?”
help
them?”
The idea of this grown-up, callous Tru actually helping her struck her as funny. Sickly funny. Pen choked out a laugh. Because she didn’t want her hopes to be ridiculed. It was either laugh or face how his cynicism wore down years of trying to make something good out of this world.
“No, I just want your help getting us there. Alone, I’d be fine. But Adrian needs more protection than I can provide.”
“You carry knives.” He angled his head toward where her belt hung next to her drying clothes.
“For self-defense, mostly. But I’m not good enough to take on a whole group of O’Malley thugs.” She sighed. “He’s just a kid. If this camp is what I hope it is, he’ll be safe there. Unless you’d rather I leave him behind.”
The skin around his eyes tightened. Such a small tell, but she read it loud and clear. Adrian was a liability and he didn’t like it one bit. “Two’s no more trouble than one.”
“Good. We’ll eat, wake Adrian, and get going.”
“Not so fast, Penelope. I said I could do the job. Not that I
would
. Give me some incentive here.”
would
. Give me some incentive here.”
“It’s not enough to help—” His laugh interrupted her before she could finish the thought. An angry flush heated her cheeks. She’d known the answer, of course. She was just stalling. “Fine. I know a group of people in what was once Georgia. They have some good weapons stockpiled. You can have your pick.”
“I can get my own guns,” he said silkily.
“Then healing. You never know—”
“Generally, I’m smart enough not to get hurt. If I do, then I deserve the pain as an object lesson.” His eyes were such a pale blue, almost gray in some lights, eerie against his dark hair, like a morning sky over bleak mountaintops.
She’d be backed into a corner if he turned down her last gambit. “Arturi’s people will reward you, I promise. Whatever you need.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “I don’t work without payment up front. If there’s nothing else, I better roast this meat before it turns, and head out.”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.” His gaze heated, making promises she couldn’t ignore.
“Fine.” Back straight, knowing she’d faced much worse, she took his challenge head-on. “Get us safely to the rebel camp, and I’ll have sex with you.”
SIX
Tru feigned amusement, as if he didn’t take her offer serious as a heart attack. He’d gone breathless the minute the words left her lips. He hadn’t figured he could get her to say them, no matter how much he teased. Up until that moment, the game hadn’t been one he expected to win.
Penelope Sheehan was a fucking legend in the wasteland, though he hadn’t known her real name until now. But of course he’d heard of the Orchid. Who hadn’t? He’d imagined she was a saint despondent folk had invented to create hope in desperate times. Not a real person.
Not a woman with great fucking tits.
He propped himself against the wall of the shack, ignoring the field-dressed reptile behind him. Not exactly the setting for seduction.
“Under what conditions? How often?”
Her chin firmed. “We’ll negotiate along the way.”
“I find it’s better to have things out in the open,” he drawled. “No potential for misunderstanding that way.”
How far would she go with this? He couldn’t believe she wanted anything bad enough to bargain with him. The entire conversation should have seemed tawdry, her offer half a step above prostitution, but now he was caught, intrigued by the flicker of fire beneath her layers of ice. Nobody had truly awakened her sexuality; he’d stake
her
life on it. He imagined neat and tidy encounters, born of impulses higher than the primitive desire to mate. The idea of making her crazy—when she neither liked nor respected him—rang all his bells.
her
life on it. He imagined neat and tidy encounters, born of impulses higher than the primitive desire to mate. The idea of making her crazy—when she neither liked nor respected him—rang all his bells.
She exhaled a slow breath, shooting an appraising glance toward the shack. But Adrian was still sound asleep. Just as well. The kid would stab him in the neck for considering this proposal, even if Pen had made it only for Adrian’s sake. Despite Tru’s prior taunts, the boy’s adoration didn’t seem to hold a carnal tinge. Some people were content with worshipping from afar.
Pen’s eyes looked huge. Maybe she was rethinking the offer. Too late. He liked the faint hint of nerves in the cant of her head.
“I need a few days so we can get reacquainted. I can’t just . . . lie down for you.”
“It wouldn’t be like that,” he whispered, prowling closer—and she responded with a parting of her lips. Instinctive. “Even right now. You want me a little.”
Pen backed up a step. “I don’t. I never said that.”
“Not with words.” Her gaze followed every movement. Hungry eyes, though she didn’t seem to know it. Starved for pleasure. “But that scent I mentioned? Sex, Penelope. You smell like a woman who wants sex. With
me,
unless you’re saving yourself for Adrian.”
me,
unless you’re saving yourself for Adrian.”
“You’re foul.” Something flashed in her blue eyes, but the emotion raced too quick for him to identify. Not that he was an expert on feelings these days. He’d spent too long intentionally severing all ties to his emotional side, the side that had burned in a fiery ruin.
He didn’t want it back.
“I’m a man. A real one—not a grateful disciple. Get used to it.”
She swallowed . . . and he watched her throat work. Vulnerable. Graceful. “Back to our bargain, Tru. You need sex. I can supply it.”
“I’m not interested in fucking a martyr. When I collect my reward, you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t promise that.”
“I can.” Tru leaned in, close enough to touch her. He didn’t. Just stood with his cheek by her delicate jaw and breathed her in. “You just have to let me.”
“Right,” she scoffed. “It’s always sighs and ecstasy, I’m sure.”
Maybe sex had
never
left her breathless. That meant she was frigid or her partners had been clumsy. Or so awed by her mojo that they felt she’d bestowed some grand favor by letting them touch her at all.
never
left her breathless. That meant she was frigid or her partners had been clumsy. Or so awed by her mojo that they felt she’d bestowed some grand favor by letting them touch her at all.
It couldn’t be easy being the divine Orchid. Tru quelled the sympathy with a mental head shake. He didn’t want to feel
for
her; he just wanted to feel her up.
for
her; he just wanted to feel her up.
Softening his voice, he angled his head to whisper in her ear. “So you’ve never had your pulse speed, your breath catch? Haven’t ever gone flushed and soft, aching to be stroked?”
She didn’t answer, but he saw response in the lift of her head, the way her nipples peaked against the fabric of her cloak. The scent of her intensified—sweet, clean, aroused woman. He should back off and give her space. He would, if she were any other female. But he didn’t want to. The impulse amped in his head. He wanted to push her to the edge. The lion growled in anticipation.
On her, from behind, teeth on her neck.
On her, from behind, teeth on her neck.
With some effort, he drove the beast back.
Too soon. Dial it down.
Too soon. Dial it down.
He made himself withdraw. “If we’re going to have some fun, that means you stop thinking, calculating, judging. It means turning yourself over to me. Can you?”
“I don’t know.” She was honest, at least, her voice unsteady.
He wanted her, fiercely. No explanation for the brutal bite of desire, but there it was. She was so different from those he ordinarily chose. Maybe that was it: variety. The spice of life and all that. When he made her come, it would be incredibly satisfying.
“Relax,” he said softly. “Nobody goes from zero to sixty in a day. We’ll take our time.”
He conceded the getting-to-know-you period she’d asked for because that fell in line with his usual process. Tru never fucked a woman on the first day, and though they’d known each other as children, that shared past offered no basis for a sexual liaison. Those were just memories, bittersweet and best forgotten. He’d been alone for years, with so much loved and lost since then. If he let himself, he could count the exact number of months and days. But to do so would mean going back in his head, and that he couldn’t do.
“You’ll take too much,” she said sharply.
“Not more than you want to give, precious.”
“Don’t call me that. You called
her
that.”
her
that.”
Her? Calla. Shit, yeah.
“Sorry,” he said with real remorse—and not just because her body language closed off completely.
Goddamn, when had he become so cold? But with Pen watching him, he tucked his doubts alongside the bad memories.
He cleared the tightness in his throat. “I have a counteroffer for you. Today, we seal the deal with a kiss. Tomorrow I get two kisses, unless you choose to give me more. The next day, we’ll play it by ear. And when I get you safely to our destination, we sleep together. Does that sound fair?”
Her mouth tightened. “Fair.”
“In exchange, I’ll protect you and Adrian. Yes, better than I did Calla.” He forestalled the objection before she could make it.
God knew, she couldn’t make him feel worse than he already did. He’d learned early on that he took failure hard. When he’d let himself get close to people, he let them down. Spectacularly. Which was why the self-preservationist part of his brain was screaming like a lunatic.
Run, run, you moron!
Run, run, you moron!
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