Taken by Storm

by Anna Argent

  He pulled a warm, wet washcloth from a bowl beside the bed, and swiped it over her fingers, rubbing between each one. As the cloth came away rust-colored, she realized that she was smeared with Talan’s blood.

  A little shiver of revulsion rushed through her as the horrible image of his broken body filled her thoughts.

  When her hands were clean, he went to the dresser and brought back a bowl of soup. The rings on his fingers sparked a hot, vivid orange, and steam began to rise from the bowl.

  The savory smell of good ol’ chicken noodle hit her nose and made her stomach wake up with a ferocious growl.

  He held the bowl in front of her. She picked up the spoon, but was shaking so hard, everything slopped out.

  “I will feed you,” he said.

  “No,” she snapped, a little too quickly. “I can’t stand weakness. I need to do this myself. Can you just leave me alone for a few minutes? The pressure of an audience is too much.”

  He bowed his head. “I’ll be nearby. Call if you have need of me.”

  Isa waited until he shut the door before she let out a long breath.

  She’d almost died. The longer she was awake, the clearer her memories of helping Talan became. She remembered the pain, the grating emptiness, the hunger so deep she knew she’d never be full again. It had gone on forever. And when she’d finally lost consciousness she’d welcomed the black embrace.

  She’d been ready to die, and deep down, she knew it had less to do with being willing to give her life up for Talan, and more about wanting the pain to end. She hadn’t been thinking about him at all—only how to make her suffering stop.

  What kind of woman did that? What kind of empress?

  She wasn’t fit to be what Warrian thought she was—what they needed her to be. She was weak, and true leaders could not afford such fatal character flaws.

  Isa pushed out a rough breath and eased to the edge of the bed. As her weight hit her knees, they buckled under her, forcing her to plop back down on the mattress.

  Her ordeal had sapped her strength, and she had to fix it. If Dregorgs tracked her down here, she wouldn’t even be able to run, much less fight.

  In hopes that it might help, she picked up the warm bowl of soup and drank from the rim. Her hands were still too shaky to hold a spoon, and she sure as hell wasn’t letting Warrian feed her like a child.

  She’d seen just how devastated he was—a kind of look that only comes to those who’ve lost something vital. And since no one was dead, she was pretty sure she knew what had been slain tonight: Warrian’s hope.

  He’d thought she’d save his people. He was finally figuring out just how wrong he’d been—how weak she truly was. That kind of revelation had to be hard on a man. He was probably out there right now, wondering how many more of his loved ones were going to die because Isa wasn’t the savior he’d hoped for.

  She emptied the bowl and tried again to stand up, hoping the food had done some good. At first she thought she was okay, but then her knees gave out and she started to fall. She reached for the bedside table to catch herself, but clipped the edge of the bowl, sending it crashing to the floor.

  Isa landed on her ass next to the bed. Splintered pieces of wet ceramic glittered in the candlelight, rocking.

  Warrian shoved into the room, his hands glowing blue in preparation for a fight.

  “I’m fine,” she told him. “Just clumsy.”

  As he moved to her, his gaze surveyed the room as if he didn’t believe her, pausing at the window. “You tried to walk.”

  “Yes. I usually do when I wake up.”

  “You do not usually die before sleeping, however.”

  He had a point. “How long will this weakness last?”

  “Not long, assuming you stop trying to push yourself.” He scooped her up and set her back on the bed.

  “Standing doesn’t usually qualify as pushing myself.”

  “It does today.”

  Something was different. Warrian was sitting beside her, completely stiff, his big body almost shaking with the strain of the tension running through him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “All is well. You will rest and recover. Another window will open soon.”

  She stifled a groan at the thought of facing another ordeal like they had experienced at the last window. But if she had to face it, she wanted to do so clean.

  And she did have to face it. She’d promised. Lives were at stake.

  “Any chance of a shower?”

  “We have water, but no heat. I could provide a bath if you like.”

  “I like. As long as it’s warm.”

  “I will make it so. Stay here. I will only be a moment.”

  He left the room, his steps stiff and slow—not at all like his usual grace. Something was definitely going on with him—something he wasn’t saying.

  She was still exhausted from healing Talan. The food was starting to help, and she felt marginally less shaky, but her head was still fuzzy. Her whole body trembled with fatigue.

  From down the hall, she heard water run in the bathtub. A shadow passed by her door a second before she saw Talan appear. He leaned against the frame, gripping it hard. The look on his face was odd—a combination of pain and relief. He simply stared at her, the candlelight flickering over his rough features.

  Several of the wounds he’d endured had healed badly, leaving obvious scars. The worst were those bisecting his skull and the tattoos swirling along his shaved scalp.

  She wished she’d known what she was doing. Maybe if she’d had some practice doing the whole magical healing thing, she wouldn’t have left such ugly scars behind.

  Isa pushed herself upright on shaking, weak arms. Talan lurched forward like he wanted to help, but then stopped, midstride and backed up until he was gripping the doorframe again.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He swallowed twice before he seemed able to speak. “I just wanted to thank you… for what you did.”

  She nodded. “Warrian and Radek both helped, but I’m glad I was there to do what I could.”

  His gaze traveled over her body, hidden by the blankets. His face flushed, and his fingers tightened in the wood until she could hear it creaking under the strain. “I’m sorry I was hard on you before, that I called you weak. You’re anything but. I can feel your strength flowing through me. So warm. So bright.” He closed his eyes and the muscles along his jaw bulged with restraint.

  “It’s fine, Talan. Really. We’re all under a lot of stress. I’m not the kind to hold a grudge.”

  “I wish I could repay you. I wish I could—” He cut himself off and cleared his throat. “If there’s anything I can do to help you, name it.”

  She felt bad for the guy. He seemed so desperate to please—too desperate. Maybe there was some cultural thing going on here that she didn’t understand. Maybe helping him had tarnished his honor or something.

  And then she remembered that feeling of closeness she’d had for Warrian after he’d used the garala on her—that desire.

  Was Talan feeling that for her now?

  Isa considered his offer, wanting to find some way to ease him. “I can’t really think of anything, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”

  “I need to repay you. Give you something. Anything.”

  Isa shifted uncomfortably beneath the blankets, moving so that she could dodge any unwanted advances if he came any closer. “That’s not necessary.”

  Talan saw that she was preparing to flee, and he must have interpreted her body language right, because he stopped in his tracks and backed up a small step. His gaze fell to the floor and his mouth went hard with frustration. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself right now. I should go patrol the area. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  He fled just as Warrian stepped back into the room. He paused to watch Talan go, standing in the doorway. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Talan’s just acting a little weird. I guess almost dying will do
that to a guy.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “No. He didn’t come that close.” Though she was sure he’d wanted to.

  “Good. He’s already been through enough pain tonight.” He said it like he was perfectly willing to inflict more damage if Talan had touched her.

  Isa let it go. She wasn’t going to change Warrian’s mind about her ability to take care of herself in the few hours they had left together. And she certainly didn’t want to spend those hours arguing. It was better to save her strength for other, better things.

  Warrian filled the doorway, simply staring at her. There was hunger in his gaze, as usual, but something else, too. Something so sad it made her ache with the need to ease him.

  “What’s going on, Warrian?”

  “Talan is drawn to you still. You gave much of yourself to repair him. That feeling of closeness will linger for a while, but he is an honorable man. He will find the strength not to act on his desires.”

  Unlike me. He didn’t say the words, but they hung in the air, obvious and glaring.

  He looked away from her, shame coloring his cheeks. “You may bathe now.”

  His hands slid under her body, lifting her from the bed. His jaw was set with the kind of tension that told Isa that any requests to use her own legs would not be welcome. Besides, she liked the way he held her, like she was some precious treasure. Men never treated her like this, not even the ones she’d slept with. Warrian was in a class all his own, making her wish they could just run off for a few days to a place where no one could find them. He could distract her from her fear of failing an entire world of people, and she could find a way to make him smile.

  Sadly, none of that was going to happen. All she could do now was hope for enough time to bathe before the next horrible thing came crashing down on her.

  The bathroom was dim, with a candle lighting the space. The tile was old, but the tub appeared to be scrubbed clean and filled to the brim with water.

  Warrian set her on the edge of the deep tub and held her there as if fearing she’d fall over.

  She cupped his face, willing him to tell her what was bothering him. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just going to soak for a while if you think it’s safe.”

  “You will never be safe here, but Radek will warn us if danger approaches. It is the best I can offer you.” He said it with regret, as if he felt responsible for the crappy situation.

  “It’s not your fault. Those Raide assholes are the ones to blame. Not you.”

  “I will be more vigilant from now on. There will be no more mistakes with Raide ambushes or with my careless requests for your aid.”

  “Careless requests for my aid? What are you talking about?”

  “I should never have asked you to repair Talan. I should have considered you might be like your mother.”

  Isa paused in the act of pulling off her sock. “What does that mean?”

  His lips pressed together, like he didn’t want to say.

  “Come on, Warrian. If there’s something I need to know, it’s your duty to spit it out. I don’t have a lot of people on my side. I need to be able to count on you to be one of them.”

  “I will always remain on your side. No matter the cost.”

  “Then spill it. How am I like my mother?”

  He pulled in a deep breath. “Did you try to stop repairing Talan when the strain became too great?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t figure out how shut the garala off.”

  “It kept bleeding energy from you, even after you were weak, didn’t it?”

  “It did. I’m not using that thing again until you show me where the off switch is.”

  He shook his head. “The garala is not faulty. But there are some who are unable to halt the energy bleed. Your mother was afflicted, as, apparently, you are.”

  “Why did you say it like that? Like it’s some big, tragic flaw.”

  His voice became a quiet, soothing sound, but his words ruined the effect completely. “Because it is. It is the thing that killed your mother. She tried to defend her people, and in doing so, gave everything she had until there was none left.” He took her hand in his, his thick fingers engulfing hers. “She died powering our defenses, and if you aren’t careful, the same fate will find you.”

  Grief ripped through her, weaving together with the fear his words caused until an unbreakable band tightened around her chest, cutting off her air. Knowing her mother was dead was easy—she’d known that all her life. But hearing the details, painting a picture in her head of pain and suffering… that wasn’t something Isa was equipped to handle.

  She ripped her hands from his and covered her ears. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  Warrian pulled her hands away, holding her wrists tight in his grip. His face was hard, cold. “You must hear the truth. You must accept what I tell you now or you will die.”

  “No. I won’t let that happen. I won’t let some machine suck me dry.”

  “How will you stop it? Your mother was born to our world. She understood our technology, and her own flaws, and yet she still perished.”

  “Maybe I’m stronger than she is. Maybe I’m smarter. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

  Warrian knelt in front of her. There was a fervent kind of determination on his face, as if he’d just made some vital decision. “I won’t allow any more harm to come to you. I will go back with you. I will ensure that you do not push yourself past safe limits. And that no one forces you to do so.”

  “I thought you said you had to stay here—that you had orders or a mission to finish.”

  “You are my only concern now.”

  He meant it. She could see it in his eyes—a bleak kind of acceptance that came with knowing there was no other choice. And as much as she wanted him to go with her through the window so she wouldn’t have to be on some alien word alone, she didn’t want to be only a duty to him. She wanted to mean more than that.

  The revelation slammed into her, sapping what little strength she had left. She sagged forward, bracing her forehead against his shoulder. “Tell me this is all going to be okay. I know it will be a lie, but I want to hear it anyway.”

  His shoulders lifted as he pulled in a long breath. His powerful chest expanded. She wanted to curl into is arms and stay there until all the danger went away. Only she knew there was no chance of that happening unless she fought.

  And if she fought, she might die. Just as her mother had. Just as she had nearly done healing Talan.

  “I will protect you,” he said. “Whatever it takes. Whatever laws I must break. Whatever I must sacrifice. I will stay by your side until all threats are gone and you are free to live in peace.”

  Isa waited for the sour taste of his lie to hit her tongue, but it never came. He really meant what he said.

  Relief swept through her, giving her room to breathe. She didn’t have to go alone. And then she realized why he’d been acting so strange since she’d woken. He’d made his mind up about this, and that pain she saw streaking through him? That was caused by his decision.

  Whatever I must sacrifice.

  “What happens if you go off mission?” she asked. “What happens if you defy orders and break the law?”

  He bowed his head, hiding his eyes. “All will be well.”

  The acidic taste of vinegar coated her tongue, proving he knew what he said was a lie.

  There was no point in fighting him. That would only warn him of her intent. It was better to let him think she didn’t understand the situation.

  Her silence was its own kind of lie, but she didn’t care. She refused to let him abandon his mission just so she wouldn’t have to go alone. What about the other people here who needed his protection? The Dregorgs would find them too. Warrian needed to be here to save them as he’d saved her.

  Isa was a big girl. Sure, maybe she was a big girl who was scared shitless, but she was no coward. She would do what needed to be done. And when she got to Loriah and w
as there, alone and afraid, at least she’d be able to take comfort in knowing that Warrian wasn’t giving up his career and his life just so he could hold her hand.

  “When does the next window open?” she asked.

  “In a few hours. Just after dawn.”

  A few hours. It wasn’t nearly enough, but she was determined to make the most of the time she had left with him.

  She stood and stripped out of her clothes. His gaze slid over her naked body, darkening as it lingered at her breasts. The distraction worked better than she’d hoped, preventing him from seeing her decision on her face.

  She steadied herself on his shoulder, then stepped into the tub, wearing only a welcoming smile. “I think there’s room for two. Care to join me?”

  “Yes. But I will not. You will bathe. I will stand watch.”

  He was so serious, she couldn’t help but smile. As she did, some of the tension vibrating through her began to evaporate.

  She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his mouth. “Fine. You watch me bathe, then.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Isa.”

  “I know, but I dare you not to watch just a little.”

  His gaze roamed down over her body as she sank into the tub. The water was warm, lapping around her like a lazy caress. She grabbed a bar of soap and washed fast, unsure of when some disaster might come swooping in. Every few seconds, she would catch Warrian watching her, then he’d jerk his head away again to stare at the bathroom door.

  As cold as it was in the house, the water chilled quickly, leaving her covered in goose bumps. He saw it on one of his stolen glances, and plunged his hands into the water near her toes. Orange light danced beneath the soapy water, like a tiny electric storm. Heat spread out from his fingers, swirling through the tub like a warm breeze.

  Isa groaned and shivered at the delicious sensation and sank down lower in the water. “Nice trick. Anyone ever tell you you’re handy to have around?”

  “My hands never touched you,” he said.

  She smiled at his misunderstanding. “No, handy, as in useful.”

  “I’m glad to be of service.”

  He was all stiff and businesslike again, right on the verge of calling her by some ridiculous title. She was sure of it.