Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) (15 page)

O
N this side of the river, the forest grew right to the edge, only a narrow graveled scree peppered with boulders defined the shore. Varian clambered up onto one of the boulders and scanned the treelined bank. The tall, needle-laden boughs were thick enough to obscure the late afternoon sunlight and the temperature was cooler than the sunlit shore on the
Na’Reish
side of the river. Not ideal conditions for wet boots and breeches, especially with the cold breeze and the onset of evening.

He glanced over his shoulder and was relieved to see the last of their party emerging from the knee-deep water. Zaune brought up the rear. He carried a child in his arms and staggered onto the scree. One of the women took the child from him and deposited her in the middle of the closest group huddling behind a boulder for protection, out of the breeze. The young scout bent over at the waist, hands propped on his knees.

Varian ran a cold hand over his face. The crossing, even at this shallow part of the river had exhausted everyone’s energy reserves. The way they sat together, many of the youngest children dull-eyed and listless, warned him they needed shelter and rest very soon.

The tall, lithe form of one of the women caught his attention. Her back was to him but he recognized the long dark braid of hair trailing down her back. Lisella always seemed to find energy from somewhere, no matter how tired she was.

She flitted from group to group, checking on and speaking to everyone. Whatever she said brought a smile to weary faces. The ease with which she dealt with so many different personalities, the compassion she showed, was a trait he admired and valued.

Sometimes though, she was too giving, too generous. Others often took what she gave without returning in kind. Once he’d questioned her about it. She’d just smiled and said she was willing to help others in this way, that one day it would all be returned to her tenfold. A teaching from the
Lady
, something she constantly badgered him to try.

The ghost of a grin curved his lips, and he wondered what the
Lady
would say about her acerbic tone as she berated him over the issue. He watched as she bent over one of the children, her hand smoothing the crown of the child’s head. Seeing her in the pair of form-fitting breeches was a rare sight, considering she preferred the comfort of a dress.

When he’d suggested all the females wear breeches for their journey he’d been surprised she’d sided with him against those who’d complained. Practicality won out and she’d been the first to trade her dress in for a pair of breeches and an anorak, similar to the ones the scouts wore.

Lisella turned as if sensing his appraisal and her light violet gaze found his. She propped her hands on her hips then swept one arm outward, motioning to the people around her, her meaning more than clear. He nodded in silent acknowledgment and called out to Zaune and a couple of the other scouts.

“We need to find shelter, preferably a cave.” He slid off the boulder and met them on the ground. “You two head upstream. Zaune, we’ll go down.” Varian glanced at Lisella as she joined them. “The sun sets in an hour. Be back in half that time.”

Two of the scouts headed off on their assigned task.

Lisella stepped closer. “We need fire to dry our clothes.” Her quiet voice held a thread of steel. “The children also need a hot meal.”

“If we find a suitable camp where the light and smoke can be hidden, then you’ll get your wish,” he promised her.

Her lips pursed and he thought she might argue with him; instead she nodded. “I’ll organize the gathering of some wood.”

“We’re in human territory now. Don’t let the children wander from the scree.”

The young woman’s brows pulled down into a deep frown, hurt flashing in her gaze. “I’m aware of the dangers, Varian.”

He regretted the gruffness of his words, knew he could’ve phrased them better. Tiredness had finally caught up with him. He usually didn’t speak so rudely. He softened his tone. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful.”

A small smile curved his lips. He made sure she saw it. “Have you ever known me not to be?”

She just folded her arms in a typical Lisella pose. With a nod to her, he and Zaune set off downstream. Tonight they’d all rest. Traveling through
Na’Reish
territory had been tough, but moving through human territory would require every skill and ounce of strength they possessed.

It wasn’t going to be easy but it was a challenge he looked forward to. Once he’d had a few hours’ sleep.

STOMACH pleasantly full, Kalan wondered at the distracted expression on Annika’s face. She’d barely spoken during the meal. Now she placed the tureen lid on its dish and capped the empty water flask with quiet efficiency. He supposed tiredness and hunger could account for that, he could certainly relate to both, but it didn’t explain why she was avoiding his gaze.

“Lessie’s appearance must have been disconcerting.”

Annika’s amber-flecked gaze lifted to meet his then veered away. “It was unexpected but… manageable.” She reached for her healer’s pouch and fished through it. “I believe my answers satisfied her curiosity.”

He recognized the jar she pulled out. “Are your wounds troubling you?” The familiar minty odor of
vaa’jahn
permeated the air. “I thought they’d healed.”

She rubbed a little of the gel into the pink scar on her forearm. “Healed over, yes, but it will be another day or so before I can move my arm like I used to.”

Maren’s earlier assault flashed through Kalan’s mind. On top of that, they’d traveled over some rough terrain during the day, some of it involving climbing or traversing rocky ground. Then she’d taken on half the chores.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“What good would it have done?” Her tone was guarded, tense. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”

Annika had an inner strength that continued to amaze him but the loneliness haunting her gaze tugged at him. She was so unused to trusting people and, for some reason he wanted her to trust him.

He grunted, caught off guard with the realization but unable to deny there was more to Annika than the simple label
demon
could define. When she glanced at him, a questioning frown on her face, he covered by moving closer and peering at her wounds.

He grimaced. They were healed but bruises discolored her skin. The ones on her shoulder, where the
Vorc
’s teeth had sunk into the muscle, were the darkest.

He held out his hand for the jar. “Let me help.”

“I can manage.”

“I swear all healers are mixed in the same pot.” Ignoring her protest he took it from her. “Push the sleeve off your shoulder.”

He rubbed his hands together to warm them while waiting for her to follow his instruction. Annika hesitated then turned her back to slip the dress off her shoulder. Her movements were stiff, awkward as she held it against her breasts. Was that due to her injuries or his nearness?

The way the lantern light reflected off her tawny skin reminded Kalan of the time when he’d stripped her to treat her wounds in the cave. Burned into his brain were the memories of curves and softness and a hunger that made a man instantly hard. The sudden spear of need in his groin shouldn’t have been a surprise considering his earlier reactions to her, but the intensity of it bordered on pain. He bit back a groan.

“What’s wrong?” Annika’s question made him realize he’d been staring at her too long, lost in thought.

“Nothing.” He moved closer, shifting to alleviate the tightness of his breeches if not the fierce need inside him. His lack of control over his body’s responses bothered him almost as much as his attraction to her. Neither were logical.

Exhaling slowly through his teeth, Kalan spread the gel on her shoulder then gently rubbed it in. Her skin was as smooth and soft as he remembered it. Giving in to temptation, he trailed his fingers over the markings running down her back, no longer avoiding them, curious more than repelled. They looked like strange tattoos, dark and oddly shaped.

He took care smoothing the gel over her skin where the bruises were the worst, kneading her muscles a little deeper where they were absent. Her flesh heated as the unguent began to work. She relaxed after several minutes. Her dress slipped farther down her back to reveal another bruise, only this one curled around her ribs just under her breast. Frowning, he touched the edge of the dark discoloration with his fingertips. Her breath caught and she shuddered.

“Sorry.” He withdrew his touch. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“That wasn’t there last time. How did you get it?”

“One of the
Na’Reish
kicked me during the fight near White-water Crossing.”

Anger spiked through him. She’d been knocked to the ground by one of the mounted
Na’Reish
and hadn’t been given the chance to get to her feet. That much he recalled, but she’d been kicked while defenseless on the ground?

He gripped the
vaa’jahn
jar hard. It was a good thing all the demons were dead or he might have been tempted to go back and hunt them down. His ministrations slowed. It was his duty to protect her but why such an intense reaction?

Frowning, he scooped more gel out of the jar. “Lower your dress farther…”

When Annika hesitated, he regretted the gruffness of his tone. He intended to look away, give her some privacy, but the graceful movement of her fingers plucking and drawing the laces free of the bodice enthralled him.

It would be a mistake to touch her. The thought went right out of his head as her dress slid off her shoulder. The curve of one breast was revealed and he caught a glimpse of her nipple, a delicate, dusky colored nub of flesh that peaked in the cool air before she covered it with her hand. His body heated, hardened further as he swallowed another groan.

All he had to do was move his hand upward a fraction and the back of his fingers would graze the side of her breast. He could easily imagine the fullness of her flesh fitting into the palm of his hand. Would her skin be warm? Soft?

He wanted to stroke his thumb over her nipple and watch it grow rosy and hard beneath his touch. Would her breath hitch or would she cry out in passion as he played with her? His hand shook as he applied a final smear of gel close to the underside of her breast.

Mouth dry, Kalan forced his gaze upward to her face. “Your cheek and eye need some of this, too.”

Eyes downcast, Annika tilted her head toward him. He swept her hair behind her ear and realized she was trembling. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing shallow and fast.

“Annika?”
Lady’s Light
, was he scaring her? “Look at me.” Her fist tightened around the crumpled bodice of her dress and she shook her head. He had to know. “Please…”

The longest minute passed then slowly her dark lashes lifted. Her eyes were a vibrant turquoise blue, like the color of a glacial lake. Beautiful. Stunning.

He sucked in a sudden breath. “You’re aroused.”

She flinched and orange infused the brilliant turquoise of her eyes. He’d seen the same change occur in them just before she’d drunk the tree-climber’s blood and when she’d told him about her birth.

Shame
.

He opened his mouth to confess to his own arousal, to ease her embarrassment. There was no denying what he felt. He frowned. Was he insane? She was half human, half demon, the antithesis of everything he believed in. The knowledge tore through him, sent a wave of unease prickling along his skin. He pressed his lips shut and shook his head. To admit to anything would change the way things were between them.

The way things
should
be between them.

An almost inaudible whimper snapped his attention back to her. The tormented sound pricked his heart like a shard of glass. Didn’t the
Lady
teach that to allow another to suffer would only compound your own?

The rip and pull of his thoughts left him bewildered.

“Annika…” He had to touch her.

Beneath his fingertips, she tensed. Her gaze locked with his, her nostrils flared as she drew in a deep breath. Her tongue skated across her lips. A soft hiss escaped him with the innocent action. Ignoring common sense, he leaned closer. He couldn’t help it.

Annika jerked away from him with a gasp. She scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing?”

Her shocked words hit him like a dash of ice water and he reared back. Long seconds stretched silently between them as he stared at her, disbelief spearing his chest.
Merciful Mother,
what
was
he doing trying to kiss her?

“You’re a demon.”

Annika flinched like he’d struck her. Her cheeks drained of all color, shadowed pain flashed in her eyes, and Kalan realized too late he’d spoken aloud.

“Don’t forget the words
tainted
and
cursed half-blood bastard
, Light Blade.” Her fists clenched tight in the dress she held against her chest. “They’re always a popular accompaniment with that label.”

The lack of any sort of emotion in her voice betrayed just what it cost her to utter those words.

A flush stained his cheeks. “Annika…”

She cut him off with a hollow, brittle laugh. “Just get me to Sacred City and the
Lady
’s temple.” Her voice was hoarse, gravelly, painful to listen to. “The sooner you fulfill your oath, the sooner you’ll be rid of me.”

With that, she headed for the sleeping pallet in the stall. A short pause by the lantern to blow it out plunged the barn into darkness. Straw rustled, then silence.

Kalan sat there staring into the inky blackness, his face still hot, confusion and mortification raking him with razor-sharp claws. He didn’t understand the effect she had on him, but
Lady of Light
, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Nor had he intended to kiss her. It’d just happened.

He grimaced;
almost
happened. For someone who prided himself on self-control, a careless slip of the tongue had flayed her to her soul and he’d proven himself as cruel as her father.