Remedy Maker (25 page)

In a whirlpool of blended chaotic thoughts, Patience stomped along the pebble-strewn trail. His self-centered attitude could go bite the big one.

“Not thirty minutes ago, we had dialogue with the last known person who’d seen Serenity alive. A conversation, I remind you, that
you
nearly blew. May the gods save me from boneheaded males.”

Queen Savella must have a good reason for choosing Rhycious to carry out her mission. It certainly wasn’t for his sterling people skills. Maybe she’d ask Her Majesty just what in the hell she’d been thinking.

 Heavy footsteps followed close behind and she increased her speed.
Funkdafied
Centaur could just talk to her back for the next mile or so. The thought of his heated eyes glued to her swaying ass brought a smile to her lips. She added an extra hip swing.
Serves him right.

But yet—

Patience couldn’t deny the powerful magnetism of him. Sensory feedback overload happened every time she stood too close to his sheer magnetism. More than she’d experienced while in the crowded, male dominated sector meetings inside the largest sycamore trees.

His kisses whirled her to the brink, and his body took her over the edge.

Rhycious was an excellent kisser.

And
lover.

Ribboning around strewn boulders, the thin trail moved away from the stream and spilled out to a picturesque clearing set against the backdrop of a sheer rock wall. Patience peered behind her and caught Rhy’s stony expression. She forced herself to take slow, easy breaths. No words had passed between them for the last fifteen minutes, which suited her fine. He didn’t feel like talking, and she wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Stay inside the tree line,” Rhycious warned.

“Aye-aye, Capitan.”

Near the inside rim of forest shade, she held up, and waited for Rhy.

“Smart-ass.” His arm reached out and brushed her aside, as she had done earlier to him. He stepped neatly around her.

Patience couldn’t help herself; he made himself an easy target. She stuck out her foot and tripped him up, giggling at his windmilled antics. “Better than being a stupid-ass.”

Rhy spun around with a mock growl and came at her low, catching her around the legs. Lifting her to his shoulder, he carried her like a bolt of cloth and walked a casual stride across the open field.

Unlike the last time she found herself dangling upside down, Patience laughed with delight. His backpack bounced against her cheek, but she managed to whack his
Buns of Steel
with her hand, which stung her palm.

“Ow!” Between gasps and giggle fits, she sputtered, “Put me down, you Centaur mule.”

 “You’re not in position to make demands, my lady.” Rhy laughed a deep and rich baritone.

Her hair streamed out as he wheeled dizzying circles, he pretended to lose his grip by slackening the arm hooked around her knees. She squealed, which was obviously his objective. Filled with sunshine over the change in Rhy’s dreary mood, she looked forward to making love again and lazing the day away.

After dealing with mutinous rebels, worrisome family business, and before their paths separated for good, Patience promised herself she’d have that day.

“Quit wiggling so much. I don’t want to drop you.”

“
Foe shizzle m’nizzle
. I don’t want to play
KerPlunk
headfirst, either. This is messed up, put me down.” Bootie hand blasts didn’t have any effect against his hard ass.

Perhaps tickling did.

On track across the fragrant meadow again, Rhy applied his hand with a sharp crack to her derrière. Then he took extraordinary care in rubbing the sting away.

Eyes closed, Patience purred from the power of his opposite stimulation package. Circular hand motions, with the right amount of pressure and squeeze power.

 Just when she would have parted her legs to invite him to rub something else, she became weightless, tossed in the air with a shrug of his massive shoulder. As if she was nothing more than a gnat, he caught and righted her in one smooth move.

Both her hands flew up to smooth down her explosion of hair. The action thrust her breasts upward under the thin tank she wore.

Yeah, girls. He sees you.
A tingle went up her spine and her nipples tightened in response.

Rhycious brushed the hair off her cheek, then let his hand slide behind her nape. He leaned down to find her lips with his own, and she lowered her arms to circle his neck.

Patience found herself swaying. The movement of his tongue, the soft laps inside her mouth—as if he stroked her inner thighs.

“More,” she said, and twisted her body to get closer to him, forcing his free arm to go around her.

“Any
more
and I’ll have us naked on the ground.”

“Perfect.”

An image of warm sun baking on bare skin sounded simply delicious. A step back in time to the days when Nymphs wore little clothing, if any, and lived to frolic their days away.

Rhy’s powerful arms wrapped tight and held her against his hard body, crushing her breasts to his chest. He slowly straightened to his full six-and-a-half foot height. Mouths locked in dueling action, eyes closed, Patience let her boots dangle useless in the air. His groans echoed in her mouth every time she pushed her hips against his.

Oh, woodland gods
. She was so into him. Driving hot, deep, fast, and firm with her tongue, feeling him come unglued—one moan at a time.

After few breathless moments, he set her down with a sigh. Swiftly kissing her cheek, he uncurled his body and took her hand. “Shall we?”

Yes, what shall we do?

He gestured with his eyes and brows to the ominous rock face twenty feet away.

 “You want to climb rocks?” she asked, incredulous. Not really what she had in mind. Further bump action in a horizontal position would be preferable.

Anger sex . . . is that like make-up sex?

Rhy grasped her hand, his white teeth flashing, and pulled her along behind him. As if she were an unruly child, he dragged her closer to the granite wall that towered hundreds of feet above them. The wall stretched for a distance in both directions.

Gnarled bushes and bonsai-sized trees grew in crannies along various ledges where dirt accumulated. Radiant heat emitted in shimmering waves from sun scorched rock as she stood in jaw dropping awe, looking up.

A metallic clink sounded. Cool air brushed her cheek and wisped through her hair in a feather soft caress. The odd tone drew her gaze away from the jagged cliffs to Rhycious, who pushed at a crevice in the granite.

A hidden entryway opened a crack.

Cripes. The hole-in-the-wall mentioned in Wood Nymph legend.
Swallowing hard, Patience tilted her head and popped her neck. Rhy didn’t need to lay down an advanced history lesson on a use of the stashed passageway. Her people knew it well. During the Great War, Centaur warriors would suddenly appear and slaughter unprepared Wood Nymphs, both soldiers and civilians alike. Then, as if by mythical magic, the horsemen would retreat and seem to vanish into solid rock.

Bacchus’ breathe. Here she stood, at the very opening where destruction had reigned on the Nymph race for over two hundred years. Even a century out of war, it struck her dumb. Humbled by the magnitude of the simple palace entry, and honored by the trust Rhycious gave her, Patience felt very inconsequential.

Rhycious turned to look over his shoulder, scanning the tree line behind them. Across the meadow, birds chased one another between leafy branches, and purple flowers waved.

He gave her fingers a tug. “Come on.”

Patience pulled back and hesitated for two heartbeats. Her dream of harmonious living and her life’s work to achieve the goal mirrored that of Rhy’s. To live with races co-mingling—the way it used to be. Before war and devastation took a toll on their people, back when trust existed between races.

Her gaze flew to Rhy, who loosened his calloused grip. Warm brown eyes watched her, gleaming like glassy volcanic rock, taking in her features. Perspiration gave his skin a healthy glow. She was acutely aware of his tall, physique du role. He thumbed the skin of her inner wrist, waiting for her to work through her fears. His touch sent electric pulses to dance up her arm.

Her lips dried out, and she licked them.
It’s now or never, homie.
She nodded that she was ready.

Well-lubed metal hinges swung the rock door inward. Dwarfed by the immense height of the hand-carved entrance, the narrower width was a surprise. Built expressly for Centaurs in true form, the craftsmanship appeared superb. When closed, she imagined the barest of hairline cracks—if one even knew where to look, that is.

Rhycious took a deep breath. He held it a few seconds before releasing it out in a stream. At his insistence, she entered the dark portal first, ahead of him.

Beyond the beam of daylight sneaking in with the open door, the interior loomed pitch black. Devoid of the brightness of a moment ago, the dark maw disoriented her. Cooler air mixed with the warmth from outside, another stark difference to her senses.

Rhycious—now there’s a contradiction. She huffed a nasal laugh to herself. Widely famed Remedy Maker, a powerful warrior trained to wield a sword. A man of peace and healing, yet searching for the villains who attempted to kill his queen and threatened their society’s structure.

Like the human’s biblical hero, Daniel, who was thrown into the lions’ den, Patience found herself locked in obscurity when Rhycious pushed the rock door closed behind them. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark—she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

Behind her, tumblers in the door’s lock fastened in place, resounding clicks broke the still, musty gloom. A trickle of water played off-key notes in the blind distance.

And Patience’s heart began to pound.

Twenty

Patience’s eyes widened as she stared straight ahead. The stale scent of cold, wet stone filled the air. Dust sifted down, covering her hair and shoulders.

“Go on.” Rhy’s hand touched her back.

“Go where? I can’t see crap in here.” It was a game of Blind Man’s Bluff on a totally different scale. Not one to freak out in small places, her chest tightened with anxiety. “Ugh! Something touched my face.” She batted the empty air around her head.

Rhycious’s heavy hand came down on her shoulder and she nearly made a deposit on the floor.

“Close your eyes,” he said. Warm air washed over her ear. His other hand snaked around her waist and drew her against him. Moist heat seeped through the back of her thin tank top where their bodies touched. The surrounding rocks bounced her breath like sonar pings, rasping loud in the silent cave.

Not that it’d make a bit of difference in the pitch dark, she closed her eyes. Warm dampness of a different type covered her mouth and took advantage of her parted lips. Fingers at her jaw tilted her head slightly to the side. Rhy’s lips formed to hers. His hands tangled in her hair, massaging her scalp as he kissed her. The dual action relaxed her tense body, slowed her erratic heart, and she realized he’d done it on purpose.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

Though dark, she saw they were in a narrow hall and it was marginally brighter.

“Better?” His fingers continued to stroke her throat, caressing her collarbone. A shudder rippled through her when he covered her breast and played with a happy nipple.

“You’re swapping one emotion for another.” Back arched, she pushed her breast into his palm, and her butt into the hard lump in his pants. “This is a much better feeling.”

Rhycious kissed her, his lips insisting. He gently squeezed her breast before unwrapping himself from around her. “Give me your hand,
agape mou
.”

He took her fingers unerringly, as if he could see in the dark, and led her across the bumpy ground.

“How do you know where you’re going?”

She listened in bewilderment to his chuckling, until the absurdity of her question hit. She tried to imagine him galloping full speed through the narrow passage, wearing his battle armor and weaponry. How the sound of hundreds of hooves striking rock would deafen in the hollow space.

Patience cut the vision short before blood and gore splashed her mental canvas. Unable to imagine Rhycious in the gruesome scene, she shook her head. It didn’t make sense. Yet somehow, he had done it. Because as they moved down a sloped floor, she felt familiarity in his stride and confidence in knowing when to make turns.

A shiver
chickaboomed
down her arms seconds before goose bumps broke out.

Wood Nymphs walk into the hidden palace, but they never walk out.

The frightful childhood tale whispered from her memories. Time to change her mental perception, or she’d completely freak out.

“Look at this,” Patience said, scrabbling for a distracting thought. “There’s light glowing from specks in the walls. It looks like fire flies stuck to tree sap.”

“It’s a type of crystal. You’ll see more of them in a minute.”

Farther down the tunnel, around a corner, the temperature rose and the light increased. Humid air enveloped her and she welcomed the warmth. Geothermal heated groundwater perhaps, but she didn’t smell the sulfur usually accompanying it. Instead, she inhaled citrus trees in full bloom.

At this point, she didn’t need his guiding touch, but she enjoyed the sensation of Rhy’s big hand cradling hers, so she let him lead her like a toddler. His fingers tightened around hers, giving a squeeze. Such a simple connection, yet her confidence was instantly restored.

“Here we are,” he said.

The dark passageway rounded a final bend and opened to an enormous, well-lit cavern. Neatly trimmed bluegrass covered the floor, absorbing the echo of a multitude of voices and hooves. Granite walls curved inward, rising three stories high and surrounded the circular room, their ancient pallor reminiscent of gray hair with white sparkling stripes.