Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) (10 page)

A
BREATHLESS curse left Kalan’s lips as he stumbled over yet another unseen obstacle in the growing darkness. The heavy weight of the long-whiskered tree-climber on his back canted to one side, throwing him off balance. He tightened his grip on it and braced himself against the nearest tree, then sucked in several weary breaths.

It’d taken him longer than anticipated to find a well-used animal trail and set up a snare. Trapping the nocturnal animal so early in the evening was a boon. Usually it only ventured down from its nest to hunt in the late night hours. Hopefully the carcass would have enough blood to sate Annika’s hunger.

Her warning that she would attack him if she didn’t hunt was so un-
Na’Reish
like. His brow furrowed. He still didn’t like the idea of her drinking blood. Logic dictated that without drinking the blood she’d be weaker, less of a threat. Could he take what she said as truth? But why would she lie?

He couldn’t take the risk of not letting Annika feed. For now, he’d take her word. Being
Na’Chi,
would she heal as quickly as the
Na’Reish
? He’d seen
Na’Reish
warriors with minor wounds heal in less than an hour after drinking human blood. Hers were more severe.

It was something he’d find out once he made it back to where he’d left her. Jostling the carcass into a more comfortable position on his back, he moved on. Staying close to the river had been wise. Without the sound of running water he’d never have been able to find his way back in the dark.

Moonlight dappled the undergrowth as he skirted another bush. The forest seemed thinner up ahead. To the left he saw a familiar silhouetted rockface. Scanning the riverbank, he saw a dark shape huddled beside a bush. Relieved, he picked up the pace.

“Annika?”

The figure moved then he saw her glowing red eyes as she peered up at him, a startled expression on her face. “Kalan?” Her husky voice held a note of disbelief. “You’re back.”

He sank down onto the leaf-littered bank, grunting as he dumped the small carnivore on the ground between them. “It took me longer than I thought to catch something…” She swiped a sleeve across her face and he heard her inhale a shaky breath. He frowned. “You didn’t think I’d return?”

She shrugged. “I’d given you directions to Whitewater Crossing—”

“So you thought I’d strike out on my own?”

Avoiding her gaze, Kalan poked at the leaf litter with the toe of his boot. He had thought about abandoning her, more than once during the hunt. The darkness provided cover from easy detection, and with the knowledge of how to get to Whitewater Crossing the lure to leave had been tempting.

The shallower water near the trading village was considered neutral territory, the safest place for
Na’Reish
and human Patrols to cross—the former to bring slaves back from raids, the latter while rescuing them.

During the hunt, he’d mulled over all sorts of arguments to justify leaving Annika behind even though she’d been the instigator of his chance at escape.

His sister needed him. His people needed him. Annika’s weakness was a liability. Staying to help her meant the risk of being recaptured was greater. All valid reasons. No one could have faulted him for taking the journey to freedom.

Except his conscience. And curiosity. He wasn’t sure which took precedence over the other but Annika deserved an answer.

“I returned because I gave you my word I’d help.” He gave her a partial truth. She flinched and her gaze swerved away from his. “Once given, it’s as binding as my faith to the
Lady
.”

Her fist clenched around the edge of her cloak. “Hesia always said a Light Blade’s honor was as important to you as your faith. I shouldn’t have… doubted you.”

She stumbled over the second half of the sentence and he wondered at her reaction. Did she care about what he thought of her?

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was pitched so low he barely heard her. “It’s not an excuse, I know, but I’m not used to people keeping their promises to me.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. What sort of life had she lived to expect that sort of behavior? He wanted to question her further but the tension between them didn’t lend for confidence sharing.

He motioned to the animal. “What do you want done with it?”

She drew her pack closer and pulled out two objects: a wooden cup and a small knife. “Cut its throat. I’ll collect the blood as it drains.”

A chill rippled through Kalan, her request triggering the memory of watching Light Blades butchered and drained by the
Na’Reish
at the time of his capture.

“I’ve seen
Na’Reish
drink straight from the source.” Tension made his voice hoarse.

She stiffened, pausing in the act of passing the knife to him. “I’m not
Na’Reish.
” The reminder did little to banish the raw images in his head. “If you’d rather, I can do this by myself.”

His gaze locked with hers as he reached for the blade. Several long heartbeats passed before she relinquished the weapon.

“If you attack me, I’ll defend myself, Light Blade.” Her voice shook. The flecks in her eyes went from yellow to green and the familiar hum of her Gift teased his senses. “All I want to do is drink.”

Kalan tightened his grip on the hilt of the blade and sliced the throat of the tree-climber. The rich, metallic odor of blood filled his nostrils. Annika placed the cup under the dark liquid flowing from the wound. It filled quickly. Her hand shook as she lifted it to her lips. She hesitated. The sharp pinch of hunger was there in her face as her gaze met his over the rim of the cup. She drank.

Nausea curled in his stomach at the thought of what she was doing. He had to look away. The screams of his comrades in arms as they were murdered echoed in his mind. He could still hear the laughter and taunts of the
Na’Reish
guards and feel the painful grip as they’d restrained him from going to their aid. His warriors had died slowly. Cursing under his breath, he fought to hold the tree-climber steady.

“I take no satisfaction in this.” The bitterness in Annika’s voice made him look back at her. She was watching him as the cup filled again. “I do it to survive.”

When he said nothing, her gaze dropped but not before he saw her eyes change from red to orange. The emotion behind her actions became clear. The
Na’Reish
took pleasure in flaunting their feeding habits. She was ashamed of what she was doing, but her hunger gave her no other choice. The idea gave him pause.

How much easier for her would it have been to give in and feed from a slave? Instead she’d chosen to resist her demon instincts, defy her heritage, and subsist by hunting and feeding from animals. The resolve involved in such a decision spoke of a strong person, one incredibly determined and disciplined.

Annika continued to avoid his gaze as she finished the last cup then took it to the river to wash. He cleaned the small knife and disposed of the carcass. It was a pity to waste the meat but they couldn’t risk a fire to cook it.

She was waiting for him when he returned, her pouch slung over her shoulder. “Let’s move.” She motioned with her chin the direction they should head.

“Annika.” He reached out and caught her shoulder. She stiffened. “You’re not
Na’Reish
. I’m sorry I implied otherwise.”

The apology didn’t come easily but she hadn’t deserved his anger.

“I’m a demon.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. But it did, he knew that now.

“Half-demon.” She remained silent, her stance still tense. He was surprised that her being uncomfortable around him bothered him so much. “You haven’t attacked or hurt me and you’ve done everything to warn me about your nature. The
Na’Reish
would never do that.”

“You trust me?” While her expression gave away nothing her voice held hope.

“Not yet. But I can’t deny the truth of your actions.”

After a long heartbeat she exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. “I can accept that.”

And so could he, for now. It didn’t mean he’d let his guard down around her, and only the
Lady
knew where it was going to lead, but for now he’d trust
Her
to guide him.

“Ready to go?” Her quiet question reminded him they still had a long night ahead of them. With a nod he let her lead and they began to follow the river.

ANNIKA tilted her head to one side and glanced back over her shoulder. The tall trees lining both sides of the rutted cart track they were walking along weren’t thick enough to block the morning sunlight. Pale sunbeams danced with shadows on the leaf-littered roadway all the way back to the last undulating rise.

A pretty scene, had it not been for the uneasy feeling eating away at her stomach. Trusting her instincts, she reached out to touch Kalan’s forearm.

“Do you hear that?” she murmured.

He halted. “Hear what?”

“Exactly.” She swept her gaze over the forest around them. “Birds should be calling this time of morning.”

His expression tightened, his eyes narrowed. “How far are we from Whitewater Crossing?”

“It’s just around the next bend.” Before she could speak again she spotted movement on the roadway behind them. Six dark forms, two on
Vorc
-back, topped the last rise. One knelt to examine the ground. Her heart began to pound.

“A Patrol?” Kalan’s question was terse.

She nodded and pushed him into the bushes. “Use whatever cover you can. Run.”

He followed her instruction without hesitation. There was little doubt the
Vorc
had already picked up his scent and they’d probably left tracks for the
Na’Reish
scout to find on the trail. Using the roadway had been a risk but a necessary one to reach the river-trader village in good time.

A cry shattered the air, loud enough to drown out the sounds of their rapid footsteps.

Kalan glanced back. “They’ve reached the place where we left the road.”

“Keep going.”

On the uneven ground, they risked turned ankles if either of them tripped between the twisted tree roots but it would be just as difficult for the Patrol. The
Vorc
-riders would have to force a path through the undergrowth or follow the roadway and wait for the scouts to capture them. Either way, the Patrol would be divided. It increased their chances for escape.

Kalan drew to an abrupt halt as they broke through the treeline onto a cleared paddock. Annika bent over to gasp in deep breaths as she sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.

On the other side of the fallow ground a small village of ramshackle wooden huts sat perched on a bend in the river while below on the pebbled scree a flat platform ferry was anchored to a wooden dock.

Squeals of laughter drew her gaze to the rocky shore. She recognized the half-dozen children pitching stones into the water. While the younger ones hadn’t been allowed near her during her previous visits to the village, she’d seen them from a distance, as curious about them as they were about her.

“Cross this field,” she panted and pointed toward the dock. “There’s the ferry. We need to find Vash, the ferry-master.”

A shrill whistle came from the dock house the moment they began traversing the cleared field. The children on the riverbank dropped their stones and ran for the buildings. They didn’t even bother to look around. The tallest sprinted along the main thoroughfare shouting a warning.

A hoarse yell behind them told Annika the Patrol had spotted them through the trees. She stumbled on the raised sod, and Kalan caught her arm to stop her from falling. His grip jerked her half-healed shoulder. She grimaced but bore the pain as he urged her on.

A high-pitched howl came from behind them. Another echoed it. She risked a glance. Her blood ran cold. Following them at a ground-eating lope were the four
Na’Hord
scouts, their weapons drawn, while bearing down on them at full gallop were the two
Vorc
-riders, covering the distance twice as fast as they could run. The riders split, urging their beasts on, one to the left, the other to the right. She could hear the deep, raspy breathing of the animals as they drew level with them.

“They’re trying to cut us off.” Adrenaline burned through her but her tired muscles refused to move any faster. “We’re not going to make it!”

“I won’t be captured again!”

She gasped in surprise as Kalan veered to his right and launched himself at the
Vorc
-rider. He grasped the rider’s shoulder and his weight pulled him from the saddle. As they fell he wrenched the demon’s dagger from his belt. She felt a familiar surge of power a moment before he drove the blade into the guard’s neck.

It was all she saw before a heavy body collided with her. The impact sent her tumbling and drove the breath from her lungs. Her pouch ripped from her shoulder as she rolled. Her wound throbbed.

Dizzy and disorientated, she ended up facedown on the ground. She spat dirt from her mouth. The overpowering odor of musk filled her lungs. Instinct urged her to move. With her head spinning, though, all she could manage was a crawl.

She heard the
Vorc
grunt. It planted its sheathed claws in the soil in front of her, blocking her escape. Its musky scent filled her lungs as she inhaled a gasping breath. A pair of large boots thudded barely an arm’s length away. Brawny, muscled thighs in dark leather breeches flexed, stepped closer.

“Who’d have guessed I’d find you out here,
Na’Chi
, and in the company of our escaped prisoner?” drawled a deep voice.

She peered up into the
Na’Reish
’s broad, angular face, noting the dark markings mottling the side of his jaw. He belonged to the
Na’Reishu
, the demon middle class, and was probably the captain of the Patrol. She didn’t recognize him but the cruel twist of a smile on his lips was familiar.

“You deserve death for helping this human. It’s a pity that pleasure belongs to your father.”

His boot struck her side like a steel bar. The force drove her onto her back, choking for breath. The demon straddled her, pinned her to the ground with his weight. Drawing on her Gift, she grabbed for his wrists.