I love taking you to romantic places, he thought wryly into her mind.
The beach is supposed to be a romantic place. Though maybe not when you’re wet and cold and covered in sand because you were dredged through the harbor like chicken being coated with flour before going in the oven.
Are you cold? He slid his arm under her and wrapped it around her back, pulling her down atop his chest.
A little. The temperatures are drastically lower than they are during the day here, aren’t they?
Especially when you’re wet.
Warmth emanated from his arm, more than simple body heat accounting for it, and it spread through her body, whisking away the cold while stirring sensations within her that made her want to press herself to him.
Rysha?
Yes? She brought her lips to his again, not noticing the sand this time, only knowing that she wanted to touch and taste, to thank him for swimming her to safety and healing her. And to thank him for not judging her for losing the sword.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed something, but…
I’ve noticed it. I don’t know if this is the ideal place to get naked, but it is starting to sound appealing.
Not that. He smiled against her mouth and gave her a playful nip. Though I’m glad it’s noticeable.
It has been on my mind since you mentioned fondling things. Rysha supposed her aunt would have advised her to be coy and never let a boy know she was fantasizing about him, but it wasn’t as if Trip couldn’t read her thoughts.
I’m extremely glad to hear it, and I’m open to fondling, but I did want to say something first.
Mm? She was amused that they could have a full conversation while kissing.
All the things you’ve done these last few weeks… battling dragons and oversized mutant animals and sorceresses… these are things most elite troops who have served for decades have never done. I can understand having doubts about oneself, but if those people don’t accept you into their program, they’re idiots.
But I did all that with the help of a magical sword. Without Dorfindral…
What did you do tonight after losing the sword?
I stabbed a bear in the nose with a spectacles lens.
He snorted. That’s it?
Thoughts of shooting the bear and escaping from certain death ran through her mind again, followed by shooting that torture expert and getting the keys to Trip’s shackles. Maybe she should have felt disgruntled that he’d read her thoughts and knew everything she’d done, but a sensation of warm approval flowed from Trip as he experienced them. Approval and… attraction. He appreciated that she’d fought so hard to come help him, and he found it arousing too. He found her arousing.
Her body flushed with this knowledge, and her kiss deepened as she pressed herself more fully against him. His wounds must have been healed by now, because he didn’t object. His other arm came around her, locking her to him. The idea of sex on the beach was growing on her, whether this was a romantic situation or not, and she could tell he wanted it as well.
A clang and a shout drifted across the water from the barge.
“Search the beaches and the city,” a man yelled. “I want him back. And find those babies.”
Trip winced, and Rysha reluctantly withdrew her mouth from his. They looked toward the water in time to see four rowboats launching from the warehouse barge. They were full of armed men, as well as some of those winged lions and scaled panthers. Rysha could see the gems glowing at their throats even across the water.
“That’s Bhodian,” Trip said. “And there’s the woman—Grekka.”
Rysha spotted her on the warehouse barge, barely visible since the deck over there wasn’t lit brightly. She had her hands clasped behind her back, her chest thrust forward, a thin robe flapping in the breeze, her lush hair worn down. She looked like she was ready to take someone to bed, not lead a hunt. But then, she wasn’t the one yelling orders. She observed as Bhodian stalked back and forth on his deck and the boats rowed away.
“I don’t think they want us to fondle each other on the beach,” Rysha said, sighing.
“That’s rude of them.”
“Most definitely.”
Trip kissed her, tongue stroking hers enticingly, and for a moment, Rysha thought he wanted to see if they could continue without being caught. Or maybe he intended to sweep the rowboats out to sea so the searchers couldn’t bother them.
“There’s an appealing thought,” Trip murmured, smiling against her lips again. But he pulled away and shifted her gently off him so he could sit up. “I already checked, and I’m not able to affect Bhodian, even out on his deck. He was wearing an amulet that I believe has some of the tainted iron in it. The whole framework of the barge is made from the stuff. I see those rowboats were built using some of it too.”
“He must have pissed off a lot of sorcerers in his life to have felt he needed to take so many measures.” Rysha stood up and brushed off sand. Her body wanted to go back to rubbing and stroking rather than trekking to their hideout, but she reluctantly acknowledged the moment had passed.
“Apparently, his relationship with Grekka started as a feud.”
Trip slipped an arm around Rysha’s waist as they climbed toward the waterfront street. She couldn’t help but think that Dorfindral would have objected if she’d had the sword with her. She ought to appreciate its absence and that it meant she could more comfortably be close to Trip, but she was mostly reminded of her failure. What would Major Kaika say?
“She must have decided it was easier to work with him than fight him,” Trip added.
“Work with him? I don’t think that’s all they do together.” Rysha remembered their body language from when she and Trip had spied on their conversation in the warehouse.
“I didn’t ask for details.”
“You should cultivate a nosy streak.”
She meant it as a joke, but he sighed, sounding sad rather than amused.
“Every time I ask questions lately and dig into my past, I get answers I don’t like. Nothing is anything like I thought it would be, and not in a good way. Every week, I’m more disappointed by what I learn. Next, I’ll probably find out that my grandparents, my foster grandparents,” he corrected with a grimace, “run a drug cartel back home. Is it sad that I long for the days when I was Lieutenant Trip, pilot, and that’s it?”
“Considering you just healed me of a wound that would have killed me, I am going to argue that you should embrace your powers and be happy to have had a scaled ancestor.”
He sighed again as they crossed the main street and walked through an alley.
“But I will agree that you may want to stop asking questions and digging into your past.”
“Good. I’m going to do that. I wish I could stop dealing with those two, too, but I still don’t have any idea where the baby girl is. And Bhodian does.” He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair, probably yanking pieces out. “I still don’t have a clue about what happened to Dreyak, either.”
Rysha wished she had learned more about that and had some information to offer Trip. Even without telepathy, she could feel his frustration.
“It’s possible he just ran afoul of them for no particular reason,” she suggested. “Maybe Grekka knew who he was and has a vendetta against those in the royal family, even bastards who were never publicly acknowledged.”
“I wish—”
Trip halted so abruptly that Rysha almost stumbled. His grip tightened protectively, but then he let her go and turned back toward the harbor. They’d climbed several blocks up the hill from the beach, but the water was still visible between the buildings.
Rysha squinted, worried he’d detected someone following them. She could make out one of the rowboats drawing close to the beach, but didn’t think any of the searchers had landed yet.
“That’s interesting,” Trip finally said.
“I might agree if I knew what.”
“Grekka contacted me telepath
ically.”
“To threaten you and curse my name for killing her bear?” Rysha asked.
“No, she said she wanted to meet me tomorrow. She offered to buy me lunch and named an eating house that’s apparently in a nice neighborhood.”
“Uh, why?”
“She said she has information about Dreyak that I would find interesting. She also says she knows where the stasis chamber is.”
“That sounds like a trap to me.” Rysha shuddered, remembering how willing that woman had been to leave her to be eaten by a bear. Yes, she had sneaked onto the barges, but that hardly seemed a crime worthy of being eaten alive. “She and Bhodian must want another chance to capture you and torture you.”
“That thought did cross my mind.”
“Are you going to go anyway?” Rysha feared she knew the answer.
“I can’t sense the stasis chamber, Rysha. This is my only clue as to where it’s located.”
“It’s not a clue; it’s a trap. You must see it. She’s been trying to kill us.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t go.”
“I know.”
“Are you at least going to take me with you this time? To break you out of whatever cage they put you in?”
Trip smiled and squeezed her waist, leading her across another street and out of sight of the harbor. “Let’s talk to Major Kaika and see what she thinks. Maybe she’ll want to come rescue me this time.”
She frowned. He’d said that casually, as if he didn’t care which one of them helped him, but she feared he didn’t think she would be as useful now that she didn’t have a chapaharii blade to wield.
That’s not it. Trip stopped walking and turned to face her, their chests almost brushing. As I told you, I know you’re extremely capable even if you don’t have a special sword to wield. He brought his hand to the back of her neck, rubbing it with his fingers as he gazed into her eyes.
Even in the dark, she felt his power, that he wasn’t bothering to hide his allure now.
I believe you’re right that it’s extremely likely this is a trap. I don’t want to drag you into trouble again. Or have you experience more of that kind of pain. He pulled her into a hug, and she leaned against him, drawn to him and also warmed by his touch.
She sensed his feelings, as if she could read his thoughts, and realized he was horrified at the graveness of the injury she’d endured. Since he’d been the one to heal her, he knew exactly how close she had come to dying. He believed he’d never forgive himself if she died because of something he had done. Or because she’d been trying to help him.
I’d rather die helping a friend, helping someone I love, than for no reason at all, Rysha pointed out.
Love? he thought with a note of wonder. He nuzzled the side of her neck, not seeming to mind that she had sand and seaweed stuck to it. Does that mean you still want to take me to that little cottage on your family’s estate?
I wish we were there now. She ran her hands up his bare chest and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. I’d really like to have sex with you in a bed sometime.
Oh? Are beds proven to enhance the experience?
I don’t know, but I believe rocky caverns, sandy beaches, and smelly alleys could de-hance it.
De-hance? My dear academic, I don’t believe that’s a word.
Not in Iskandian, but I know many languages.
Rysha leaned in to him, returning to the kiss they had started on the beach. Maybe it wasn’t wise, but she had a hard time thinking about logical matters, such as if they were far enough from the harbor that they wouldn’t have to worry about pursuit. Or if those animals would be able to magically track them. All she could think about was that she’d almost died and she wanted to celebrate life with this man. And the way he was rubbing her neck and kissing her was making her vow to use her last bullet on anyone stupid enough to interrupt them.
This alley isn’t terribly smelly, Trip pointed out, sliding his hand down her back to cup her butt.
True. The sea breeze sweeps away the most noticeable offenses.
The same can’t be said for the hostel rooms in this town.
Lamentably true.
And they wouldn’t have any privacy if they returned to their hideout. If anything, Kaika would grumble and ask what had taken them so long, then pace around while stroking her weapons. A definite mood killer.
Perhaps I can make you forget that there’s no bed here.
I do suspect you have that ability.
Let’s find out.
The telepathic talk stopped after that, as concentration went toward other activities.
12
As Trip and Rysha walked through the tunnels that led to their hideout, he didn’t bother to hide his grin. In the dim lighting, he doubted Rysha would spot it, but she could probably sense contentment flowing from him. Oh, most of the night had been a nightmare, but being with her had made everything much, much better.
Maybe it hadn’t been the wisest place for a union—it certainly hadn’t been the most comfortable—but he’d needed a release for all the emotion welled up inside of him. He’d been frustrated at being captured and at not finding the stasis chamber. Then Rysha had appeared, grievously injured, and he’d been so distressed at her pain, but also so honored that she’d been willing to endure all that pain to come help him. He’d almost broken down in tears. When he’d gotten her to shore in time to heal her, to bring her back to full health, he’d been relieved beyond words. That time, he had broken down in tears. Fortunately, he’d staunched their flow before she woke up. Manly and heroic pilots didn’t cry, after all.
At times, Trip hated this new and complicated side of himself, but if he had the power to heal people that were close to death, he couldn’t regret that. The rest of it was worth enduring for that.
He’d already been brimming with emotion, and then she’d said she loved him. That was so much more than he’d ever expected. He wished now that he had said it back. He would find a time later. The perfect time. Back in the alley, all he’d been thinking was that he wanted to show her that he felt the same way, that it would be worth it for them to find a way to have a relationship once they returned to the capital and their respective units. Their respective lives.
If you’re done basking in the glow of your recently reaffirmed romance, you might want to pay attention, Jaxi said.
To what? Trip asked.
They had almost reached the secret door. He sent his senses ahead, suddenly worried that something had happened to Kaika or the stasis chambers while they had been away. What if Bhodian’s people had found their hiding place?
But Kaika wasn’t the first person he sensed. Trip halted a few paces away from an intersection, the one that led to their dead end. Someone was in the tunnel, near the very spot where the secret door lay.
Rysha also halted. She squeezed his hand and thought, There’s light up there.
Trip nodded and lifted a finger to his lips while he investigated more closely. He did sense Kaika in the sanctuary beyond the door, and he also detected the magic from the stasis chambers. This person between here and there seemed… unremarkable. Had one of the squatters wandered this way to explore?
The man did have an inquisitive mind, and he was peering at the walls, at some old paintings on them. His surface thoughts, musings of dragon clans, dragon-rider outposts, and ancient cultures reminded him of Moe Zirkander, though this fellow was younger.
Trip drew Azarwrath.
Oh, sure. Jaxi harrumphed. Pick him when I’m the one who warned you about that man. Azarwrath was napping.
I was not napping. I merely didn’t think there was much danger. That person appears to have a gentle soul.
Follow me, Rysha. Trip nodded to the corner.
Rysha nodded back, drawing her pistol, her pistol with a single shot remaining. He smiled, remembering the thought he’d caught, of her deciding to shoot anyone who interrupted their mutual comfort session.
Mutual com
fort? Jaxi asked. Is that what it’s called when you’re rutting and groaning loudly enough to make the neighbors think some of those wild animals are loose in the streets?
I see I left my vault door open.
Yes, you have a tendency to do that when you look at your lieutenant. All your lustful thoughts ooze out all over the place.
Rysha raised her eyebrows, no doubt wondering why Trip was taking so long to walk around the corner. He thought about explaining, but that would probably only encourage Jaxi to share her thoughts with Rysha.
I’m always happy to share my thoughts. I’ve had numerous handlers with varying degrees of sexual interests and abilities. One rivaled Major Kaika in breadth of knowledge. If you want some tips—
No, thank you.
Trip stepped around the corner. Actually, he rushed around it, eager to end the conversation.
The man he’d sensed stood at the dead end, poking thoughtfully at the ancient stones as he held his lantern up. He must have heard them because he turned, his eyes widening.
“Please, sir. Ma’am.” He lifted his hands, his gaze snagging on Azarwrath, who had decided to glow red and paint the stone walls with his light. “I am a simple explorer. I have little coin and want no trouble.”
Rysha lowered her pistol, her gesture startled. “Horis Silverdale?”
Trip frowned at her. You recognize him?
I do, yes. I was even thinking about him yesterday when we first discovered this sanctuary—well, about all my fellow students and professors, not him specifically. I thought it was a shame they couldn’t be over here to see some of the things we’ve seen.
Trip considered the man. He did have a familiar Iskandian accent. And the face matched the accent: pale skinned, a scattering of faded freckles, and long copper hair pulled back in a tail. A few of the strands had escaped and fell to frame high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Trip didn’t usually notice other men’s looks, but the fellow was undeniably attractive, a day’s worth of beard stubble somehow making him appear ruggedly handsome. When Trip had stubble, he just looked unkempt. The man wore a backpack bulging with books, a pencil behind one ear, and ink smudges darkened his fingertips. Trip wasn’t sure how someone like that managed to look handsome, but he did.
Unraveled Page 16
