Obsidian Eyes (34 page)

Jared took Allie’s hand as they ascended the curving stairwell and along a corridor to General Galloway’s office. The office was cavernous and contained several chairs grouped around a fireplace and a wall of books. The General’s desk rivalled a billiards table in size, maps and dispatches littered on its surface. An aethergram unit zinged from its corner and small pieces of ticker tape shot out every time a message registered.

The general was engaged in a discussion with Lieutenant Harris and two soldiers. The conversation stopped as they entered and four sets of military eyes appraised the friends. The general waved a hand at the two soldiers and they exited the room.

Jared released Allie and she gravitated to the wall of books, curious as to what a general would keep handy.

“Well? What have you learned?” General Galloway asked.

Allie stiffened. Yet again, men expected her to spill guild secrets, each word adding a fibre to the noose around her neck. She drew a deep breath and thought of Zeb, caught in a web not of his making.

“Allie had a productive meeting in London.” Jared chose his words with care, leaving her to decide what she told.

Turning, she found all eyes on her. She tried to swallow but found her throat parched.

Harris offered her a respite. “You’re asking Allie to betray the guilds, sir, not an easy situation to be in.” He activated a sonic emitter on the desk and soon the familiar hum washed over her skin.

Allie let her gaze linger on Lieutenant Harris. He had shed his street brat image, and years of immersion in the military soaked into his pores. She stared at his right wrist, a leather gauntlet poking out under the sleeve of his jacket, and wondered if he still bore his guild mark.

The general’s busy eyebrows rose. “The covenant will protect her.”

Allie found her voice. “From you and being placed in a workhouse, it doesn’t protect me from guild retribution.” She stepped closer to Jared and Duncan.

“I promised Captain Marshall that if you help us find Lord Lithgow we’ll help you deal with the consequences,” he offered before narrowing his eyes. “Time is running out and you need to decide, where does your allegiance lay? Are you with us, or working for them?”

Allie blinked at the question.
Where are my loyalties?
She rolled the question around in her head, before holding up her wrists. “No guild owns me, I follow my own path and my loyalty lays with my friends and rescuing Zeb’s father.”

With one sentence she erased four years and resumed her walk to the gallows. She expected darkness to drag her down, but instead a weight lifted off her chest. She made the right decision, whatever the outcome.

“I am to contact an agent at Deviant’s. He is to give me the co-ordinates to his base so I can deliver Zeb.”

“We’ll have some of our men go and make contact,” the general said, shuffling papers on his desk.

Harris coughed into his hand. “It’s not that simple, sir. Deviant’s is a guild club, they won’t admit our men. We have tried on previous occasions.”

Jared stiffened. “And their man is expecting Allie.”

She took a step closer and slid her hand into his. Warmth spread up her arm as he wrapped his fingers around hers. “I go with Jared and Duncan or I hold my tongue.”

“This isn’t a game,” the general growled and rose from his desk.

“I am aware of that,” Allie answered. “My life is as stake here too.”

“We’ll use Allie to make contact,” Harris said. “And I will be there. Watching to ensure they don’t run into trouble.”

Galloway nodded. “Report back tomorrow.”

Dismissed, they returned to the horses. Allie’s heart pounded and she kicked Soiron into a gallop as though she could run away from the unfolding events. They rode until the horses started blowing and brought them back to a walk to head to the pub for lunch. Jared helped Allie down. His hands lingered on her waist for several seconds before letting her go. They hitched the horses to a nearby rail and left them grazing on the lush clover, while Duncan wandered over to the tavern to purchase lunch.

Allie gave a stretch while she sized up the massive oak on the banks of the fast running river, and opted to nestle herself down against the supportive trunk in the sun. Jared dropped to the ground next to her. She closed her eyes and soaked up the sun’s rays.

“It’s so pretty and green here,” she said. “And so damned cold compared to Egypt.”

“Do you miss it? You hardly mention your life before St Matthews.”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s a different world compared to here. The warmth, the smell of the spices, the sounds, it all seems so alien now. There was an ease to life in the harem, no one was ever in a hurry. It was all so languid.”

“I thought you would say you prefer life here,” Jared murmured.

She opened her eyes and drank in the sight of him sprawled next to her. “Well, I had no handsome aristocrats to torment in Egypt, and I find that quite an entertaining pastime.”

He leapt on her comment. “So you think I’m handsome then?”

“Well.” She rolled her eyes. “Not as handsome as Duncan obviously—”

He picked up a handful of fallen leaves and tossed them at her. Allie laughed. The leaves showered over her hair, making her look like a forest nymph. In return, she grabbed up a small stick and reached over to poke him in the ribs.

“Hey!” He grabbed her ankle before she could squirm away and pulled her down to where he sat. Before she could kick out, he changed his grip. Being far stronger, and not hampered by long skirts, he held the upper hand in their brief wrestle. He went for something higher up and managed to capture both her slim wrists in one of his larger hands. She lay on the grass beside him, her breath escaping in quick gasps.

He held her hands over her head, while his other hand rested on her waist.

He looked at her with such intensity Allie’s heart skipped a beat. His gaze was a weapon that seared through her body and tore aside her flesh to expose her heart.

“No games,” she reminded him in a bare whisper.

“I’m not playing.” His wore an inscrutable expression as he ran his free hand up over her side to cup her face.

She sighed. Her body ached for more contact between the two of them. Her brain urged her to arch her back and press herself into him.

“Are you going to kiss me properly at some stage? A girl needs to know about these things.”

“I’m going to kiss you so thoroughly you won’t be able to stand up,” he growled a promise, his hand moving to caress the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long hair.

“Well I am lying down at the moment.” She tilted her head in invitation, her back arching off the ground toward him.

“Given our track record, Duncan is due to appear with a laden lunch tray.” Jared’s head shot up as he said it and then he glanced back to her. “And you’re far too tempting. I don’t want to be interrupted next time.”

Allie laughed, he was probably right. She changed the subject before they lost themselves. “You don’t like having to follow Christian’s lead on this.”

Jared worked his jaw, his fist opened and closed on his knee.

Allie put her hand on Jared’s arm as he went to rise from the under the elm, forcing him to stop and stay beside her. “We need their help. We could never do this on our own. You don’t mess with the guilds. I swim in their world, and we are minnows amongst the sharks.”

They rose to their feet and a thought struck her. “You’re a natural leader you know, and you’re not too bad with a sword either.” She added with a smile in her eyes. “You’d do well in the military.”

His eyes widened. She guessed what he tried to keep hidden from most people. “If only I was allowed to do more than play during the holidays.” He stood with his back to the tree, next to her.

She pursued the line of the conversation, trying to understand a little more about him, since he so rarely dropped his defences. “It’s your life, and you’ve only got one. Do you really want to fill it with regret?”

“What about you?” Jared picked up her hand and brushed his thumb over her wrist, the place that would one day bear her guild tattoo. “What design will you choose when you turn eighteen?”

Allie drew her hand back and reached out to touch the gnarled trunk of the ancient tree. She followed the contours, her fingers tracing fissures in the bark as she walked its circumference. Her circuitous route finishing where Jared stood, arms folded across his chest. She stopped next to him and pressed her head against the tree, as though she could hear it whisper of the knowledge it learned from millennia of watching.

She turned, pressing her spine into the tree’s embrace. “Do you ever feel like inside you are two people, one the person you are expected to be and the other, the person you want to be?”

Jared moved to place an arm either side of her head, trapping her between his torso and the oak. Their eyes locked, and he drew in a sharp breath. “Yes.”

“When you think of the future mapped out for you, how does it feel, here?” She placed a finger over his heart.

Jared captured her hand. “I ache. Like pushing my thumb into bruise.” Raising her hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on each fingertip. “How do you know?”

“Do you think you’re the only one with problems?” A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. “I am supposed to choose a guild, but what if I don’t want that life?”

Black brows knitted together. “Then don’t. I’m sure your grandfather will support you.”

“It’s not him who has mapped out my life.”

“Then who? You’re an orphan.”

She shook her head. “I never said that, people drew their own conclusion.”

Jared blew out a whistle between closed teeth. “You’re father, he’s a Whisperer, he’s your guild contact.”

I will not cry
, she commanded as unshed tears threatened behind her eyes. “Yes, and an adept puppet master. You rarely see his hand show behind the curtain.”

Jared traced the line of her cheek with the tip of his thumb. “We make quite a pair, don’t we? Neither of us knows what to do.”

Allie studied his face. “I thought the wealthy and privileged just sat around getting drunk and making spectacles of themselves, so the newspapers had something to write about. I find it curious you actually want to have a purpose in your life.”

“And I thought all guild born were unwashed and uneducated pick pockets, so I have found you quite the conundrum,” Jared countered with a strange light in his pale eyes.

“Then I guess neither of us is what the other expected.” Allie’s body vibrated with small seismic eruptions wherever Jared’s body touched.

“I never thought to find anyone who understood. We could choose our own lives, you know.”

“For how long, though? Before we are dragged back and shackled in our cages?”
Literally for me.
Her lashes fluttered down to hide the tears building inside. He offered so much with his words but she could never follow. Her life and freedom would be the price.

“Together, Allie, we could be whatever we wanted to be. We could give each other strength.” He placed his hand against her face, his thumb brushing away the tear from the corner of her eye.

“Don’t.” Her mind recoiled, sensing a trap in the open path he laid before her. So inviting, so easy to accept all he offered.

He dropped his head closer and Allie inhaled autumn leaves, musk and freedom. Their breath mingled, sweet with savoury, his lips poised above hers.

“What do you want me to do, instead?” he whispered.

“Kiss me.” She inclined her head a fraction, closing the distance between them, waiting for his warm lips to slide over hers.

“Oy!” The shout came from across the lawn.

“I knew it,” Jared muttered as Allie slipped out from under his arms.

Duncan balanced a tray in his large hands containing a pitcher of cider, a loaf of bread and several slabs of meat and cheese. Allie relieved Duncan of the precarious pitcher before it dropped to the ground. They laid the meal in their chosen spot under the spreading foliage.

He threw himself on the ground in front of Allie, before grabbing up a hunk of bread and piling it with meat and cheese.

“What are you two discussing so seriously?” he asked with a mouthful of lunch.

“How someone as supposedly high born as you, can act so crass.” Allie never lost an opportunity to needle Duncan.

Duncan pointed at Jared. “He’s the heir.” Then he tapped his own chest. “I’m the spare, which means I get to misbehave.” He beamed as he poured himself a beer to go with his sandwich.

Allie made herself something to eat from the platter. “It also means you have a vested interest in keeping Jared alive.”

“What do you mean?” Duncan paused mid-bite, with a worried look on his open face.

“Well if anything happens to Jared, you’re it. There’s no spare for the spare. And I suspect you would be wrapped in cotton wool and rarely let outside, if you were the sole heir for the Lothian Dukedom,” Allie pointed out.

The possibility had never crossed Duncan’s mind before.

“Oh, bugger,” he said between mouthfuls of sandwich.