by Alisha Basso
Was this kissing? No. This was searing possession, an explosion of primal force she’d never known. Danger, danger, she heard distantly. She ignored the voice and gave in to the drowning, tangled her tongue with his, molded herself to him, swam deeper than ever before, let him take what he needed, give what she needed.
Sensations came fast. The shock of velvety skin against her belly where her shirt had ridden up. The heat of his mouth. The taste of summer. He hoisted her against the wall, cupped her bottom. She lifted one knee and opened to him, the hard ridge of his arousal a sharp pain against that most tender place at the juncture of her thighs. The rush of desire hit her everywhere at once. She was drunk on need. His and her own. Dizziness made her cling to him, but her body knew what to do—it exulted in nearly climbing him to get closer still.
Never had she known fear and jubilation in equal measure. She’d meant only to thank him. Now, with her blood thudding in her ears, her skin on fire, her heart screaming yes, yes, yes, she knew this wasn’t only what she wanted. It was what she was made for.
She broke the kiss, could scarcely breathe. He plunged down her throat, leaving a trail of wet heat, plundered the vee of her shirt, nipped her collar bone on the way. He lifted her other knee and rocked his hips against her. She cried out, an urgent noise she didn’t recognize somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Her hands scrambled down his back, over the scar. His pants were too tight, she couldn’t get under them. She needed him closer.
Leinos’s hands stilled on her hips. He buried his face in her neck, panting. Both of them panting. Slowly, slowly, he lowered her legs. He mumbled what sounded suspiciously like a plea for forgiveness. Blood still rushed too loudly for her to hear.
“We can not,” he rasped between breaths. “I cannot be like this.”
We can, we are.
“What?” was the only thing she could say.
He gripped her face between his hands. His eyes were wild, hungry. “Try to understand.”
“I don’t.”
He growled and tore himself from her, leaving her trembling, suddenly cold. No, no, no. Her legs couldn’t hold her. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor.
Silence stretched as their breathing returned to normal. Her heart slowed, but her lips still tingled, felt swollen. All of her was swollen, expanded, damp. Leinos found a shirt, dropped it over his head, faced away from her.
“I gave this up when I became Supreme Guardian.” His voice sounded choked, anguished. He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Everyone who becomes a guardian must give up the one thing that matters most to them.”
Lauren’s brain had gone off line the moment their mouths connected, and she was having a hard time getting it to reboot.
“Kissing was the thing that mattered most to you?”
He whirled, anger glinting in his coppery eyes. It was gone quickly, replaced by something far worse—grim resignation. He crouched before her, took her hands. His thumbs moved restlessly over her knuckles while he looked to the side for a moment, obviously having as much difficulty herding his thoughts as she was having with hers.
“Passion,” he said. “Love. That is what I gave up.”
Lauren’s brain flickered. Had he just said he loved her? He stroked her hair away from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear so gently. A new pain in her chest. Shards of glass. Tears threatened. He had to stop. This gentleness was too much.
“It was after my family died,” he continued, his voice raw and subdued. “They were all I cared about. What had brought me the most happiness, fulfillment, and eventually, a pain so deep, I never thought to recover.”
She got the pain part. Too bad she’d missed out on her portion of happiness and fulfillment.
“Until now, it has not been a difficult vow to keep.”
“What about Pheeso and Artepa? They’re joined, aren’t they? A couple?”
“Yes.” He cradled her cheek with his palm. “Yes, but they, too, gave up what mattered most to them both.”
She edged her chin away from his hand, cast her gaze over his shoulder. “Which was?”
“Having children.” He noted an infinitesimal wince in response to this and stored it away to examine later. “It is different for each prospective guardian. I knew a woman who carved the most exquisite figures from wood. She gave that up.”
Leinos was not sure Lauren heard him. He recognized the flat look in her eyes, like shutters slammed against a storm, and hated that he had caused it.
She let him help her up. She felt weightless, empty, looked like she wanted to run, and jerked her arm from his grip as soon as she gained her feet. He started to say more, but her hand came up, a small, eloquent gesture fraught with misery.
“I need to go check on my horse.”
He should have told her. He knew his feelings, had seen the same longing in her eyes. This should not have happened. By The All. He was Supreme Guardian.
“Wait,” he said, knowing the request to be futile. “Eat.”
“I’ll find something downstairs.”
She spun on her heel and retreated.
The moment the door closed behind her, Leinos turned and attacked the wall.
He thought running drills with the Horseguard had been enough. He had convinced himself escorting her to the Bitter Reaches would be enough. He had always believed serving as Supreme Guardian was enough.
Arrogance. He still had not told her everything. Humility was what a prospective guardian was supposed to gain by giving up what was most important. His wood-carving friend had learned quickly and requested to be disrequired. She had gone back to sculpting because in that way she served better, more completely. He, however, had never overcome his pride. He had merely channeled it into his work.
He flexed his abused fist, forced himself to sit, poured tea, and stared out the window.
To all of Cirq, and beyond, he was known as the self-sacrificing, the un-presuming, even the wise Supreme Guardian, who thought of everyone but himself, who put everyone before himself. And so he had for most of his life. But he had also taken refuge in his position. When he made his vow, he had already lost that which he valued above all else. It was nothing to give it up because he no longer possessed it, could not go back to it.
Leinos sipped the tea. Gone lukewarm. He ate, because he must, but the food had little taste. Slowly, agonizingly, he retraced his steps from solitary, starving orphan to young man with a family and hope for the future. He allowed himself to dwell in the beauty and warmth of those few seasons for a time, but not long enough to grow melancholy. He did not linger over their deaths, but did visit with the grief-stricken rage that had driven him to seek out Vraz, which led to Marzak, sage of Lerom, the queen, the proffer of a new rank—Supreme Guardian—and his acceptance of this elevated role and the power that went with it. The place where he had hidden until now. What a sham his self-conceit had been.
He must thank Lauren.
Later.
For Lauren, Raver and Horsecaller, had just shown him to be a fool.
Chapter 19
THE sun shifted while Leinos sat, and no longer angled through his single window. How he had missed its warmth and always knowing how early or late it was. He must find Lauren now, find a way past the shutters she had battened around her heart, and introduce her to the Horseguard. He rose to complete his ablutions with cold water.
A short time later, he found her in the barn. He deceived himself yet again if he thought she might one day seek refuge in him. Her horse would always hold that place. He who most assuredly was the source of the sun shining this day. Lauren brushed Pindar’s gleaming coat with such force he thought she would rub the hair away altogether.
Jana leaned on the stall door watching. Behind her on a stool, the remains of a meal, empty tea cups. She turned, the sister of his heart, and gave him a narrow, accusing look. So, the Horsecaller had already gained an ally here. Good. She would need all the friends she could muster. And, the more relationships
Lauren formed, the harder it would be for her to return to her own world. Selfish, yes. Self-serving, absolutely. His true nature seemed determined to assert itself today. This Raver had stormed his own battened heart and torn away its heavy shields.
So be it.
“The Horseguard is assembled,” he said.
Lauren spun to face him, her skin shimmering with sweat, hair tied back but flying loose, eyes red-rimmed. The excited sparkle of anticipation he had seen in her soft, brown eyes just a short time ago had been replaced by cold determination.
He had done this to her. The knowledge hit him in the belly like a stave thrust.
“Very well,” she said. She put the brushes down, skimmed her hair back, and wiped her face on her sleeve, leaving a faint smudge on the immaculate garment. She stiffened her spine, squared her shoulders and said, “I’m ready.”
She secured the stall door and strode out of the building without a backward glance.
“I am not sure they are ready for you,” he muttered.
She stopped and waited for him to catch up. “Is there a problem?”
Leinos took a deep breath, glanced at Jana, but could see no reinforcements would come from that quarter. She spared him only a speaking glance and a you-made-this-mess-you-clean-it-up shrug. He let out a sigh, resigned to whatever came.
“Yes,” Lauren said. “Jana kindly filled me in on certain details you have neglected. Specifically, the one about Horsecaller being second only to your queen in authority. Above even you, Supreme Guardian. What were you afraid of? That it would go to my head? That my ego would get out of control? Because I’m thinking you are an expert on that subject.”
She did not wait for him to answer but walked on. He deserved to be flogged by her words. He was relieved to see her calm response to this new information. Although calm was perhaps not entirely the right word. In any case, she was right. And magnificent in her outrage.
He must tell her.
Later.
“Indeed,” he said to her back, knowing the word vexed her. And was rewarded by a slight hitch in her stride.
Pheeso and Artepa had gathered the Horseguard in the common room of the inn as Leinos requested. There, they enthusiastically ate what the inn staff put in front of them, nursing their bruised bodies and egos over the watery brew that passed for ale anymore. Getting out of Lerom was cause for celebration. The queen kept them tethered tight. Even facing the Supreme Guardian over short staves did little to dampen their spirits.
Leinos and Lauren entered from the kitchen unnoticed by all but Geed, Captain of the Horseguard. The man’s head came up and his eyes unerringly fixed on them, or, more precisely, Lauren, and followed their weaving progress through the long tables to his.
Most Cirqians took after Geed—large and light of hair and eye with freckled skin prone to burning—not that it had been a concern for most of their lives—faces more round than long with soft features. Hair tended toward thick and wavy. A handful resembled himself, tall and darker, but not as broad, with more prominent bones.
None looked like Lauren. Compact in build, wiry strong with dark eyes and sleek hair, she had high cheekbones, a long, razor-straight nose, a stubborn chin, and superbly drawn mouth that still looked freshly kissed. Her skin was almost as tanned as his but finer. His fingertips tingled thinking of how soft she had been. And he knew that a delicious blush rose to fan her cheeks when she caught him looking at her with undisguised want. He had witnessed this just a little while ago.
Geed stared at her now the same way, as she swung first one leg, then the other, over the bench across from the captain. By all that was holy, those pants she wore should be outlawed. Leinos took the place at the end of the table, glad they had it to themselves, his back to the wall where he could keep an eye on the captain as well as the rest of the room.
He was deeply gratified to see Lauren did not respond to Geed’s blatantly salacious regard. She did not appear to notice him at all, purposely avoiding eye contact, instead looking out over the heads of those at the next table.
Belenn put a mug in front of Leinos.
“For you, my lady?”
Lauren smiled at the innkeeper, thinking he looked harried and tired. Probably the Horseguard kept him hopping. “I can get myself some water, Belenn, thank you.” She began to rise.
Belenn put his hand on her shoulder. “Do not think of it. I will be right back.”
She wanted to get up, to get out from under the lewd scrutiny of the man across from her.
Leinos nodded acknowledgment to the bearded man. “Captain Geed, you son of a frit, good of you to come on such short notice.”
And finally, finally, the blond man took his eyes from her. He’d been about to bore two holes where her nipples were, and that was after he’d nearly burned the breeches off her while she crossed the room. She began to regret her wardrobe choices. If she’d known they would incite testosterone overload everywhere she went…no, she didn’t regret what happened with Leinos, even if, well, she would deal with all that later.
This other man, though, Captain Geed, he was the one she’d seen in the inn yard when she woke early that morning, between dreams. Had he seen her at the window? She didn’t think so. There was nothing of recognition in his heavy-lidded perusal of her. He looked every bit the fierce warrior of Gaul that nearly drove Rome out of western Europe. All he needed was a kilt and he could walk through the mists of time. Her time, anyway. She wouldn’t mind if he went right now. She didn’t enjoy him examining her the way he did.
“At your order, Supreme Guardian,” the captain said. “Why the urgency?”
“This is Lauren,” Leinos said.
Geed turned a puzzled glance to her, this time looking at her face, probably wondering how the introduction answered his question. Belenn put a mug in front of her. She thanked him and drank gratefully.
“You bring me a gift, Supreme Guardian?” Geed said with a sly smile.
Lauren stiffened. Leinos pressed two fingers to her wrist. Stay calm.
“Lauren,” Leinos said, “This is Geed, Captain of the Horseguard.”
“Captain,” Lauren gritted out. “Pleased to meet you.” She clunked her mug against his, and his puzzlement grew into confusion. “Are you the one who put that bruise on the Supreme Guardian’s back?”
Geed’s eyes—hazel, she decided—flew wide, and he looked from her to Leinos and back. She knew the question was risky, implying inappropriate intimacy with the Supreme Guardian. Although, she could not profess knowledge of their social mores. She wasn’t quite sure what made her do it other than being angry and upset—and genuine possessiveness toward the bloody man, even if only as friends. A stab of guilt hit her. What if there was punishment for breaking his vow? He was like a priest.
The bloody man in question had tipped his chair back and stifled a smile, his eyes dancing. Not upset. She’d read the relationship between the two men correctly. Because while Geed had been stripping her with his eyes, Leinos had been shredding the captain with his. She didn’t want a quarrel, but she did want to establish where her loyalties lay right from the start.
“Well?” she prompted Geed.
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Stalling. A smile was beginning to force its way onto her face as well, Leinos’s mirth spreading to her. If Geed didn’t come up with an answer soon, the jig would be up.
“Is it my fault he reacted too slowly? He does not forgive if we hold back.” He turned to Leinos, his brows drawing together at what he saw in the other man’s face. “Who is this woman?”
Leinos lowered his chair and became serious. “This woman, Captain, is the Horsecaller.”
If Geed had been confounded before, this news hit him like a thunderbolt. He jumped to his feet, the bench careening into the next row, startling those seated there.
“Horsecaller!” He slapped his hand up in salute.
A ripple went through the crowd.
Horsecaller? The
Horsecaller!
Everyone in the room stood with a whoosh, and she was met with a cloud of browns and grays, like a flock of sparrows taking flight. Men and women, some young, mostly older, turned to her and saluted, shock and wonderment on their faces.
She eased herself up, heart jarring her ribs. “Should I say something?” she whispered.
Leinos stood and crossed his arms, taking in the assemblage. “They live to do your bidding, Lady Horsecaller, and long have they waited for the honor.”
Why, why, why hadn’t she asked more questions when she’d had the chance? Yes, there was the small matter of flying bird-men, and guardians, a dog-lion, sages, crones, and the not-so-small-matter of The All—she’d been distracted. Still, she wanted to get off on the right foot. She squared her shoulders and made eye contact with as many individuals as she could, then saluted, retaining it a long moment, keeping them in her thrall. When she lowered her arm, they all exhaled.
An invigorating heat washed her from head to toe. She sucked in a deep breath and sat, lightheadedness sweeping over her as if she had drunk down a glass of scotch. Something she could do with just then. She sat down too hard, held up her empty mug, and Jana brought her another water.
Leinos sat as well, leaned close, gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, and spoke close to her ear. He suggested she order Geed to send half the guard on patrol to the same positions they had held the night before. She had to start giving orders? Not something she was good at, having people looking to her for leadership. But he was making it as easy as possible; this was an innocuous way to begin.
Captain Geed righted the bench and slowly lowered himself to it as if he feared the thing on fire. Served him right. Lauren cleared her throat.
“Captain, do forgive me for having some fun at your expense.” She offered her winningest smile.
“Certainly, Horsecaller. Naturally.” He dipped his chin several times. “No harm done, to be sure.”
She didn’t like directing people but had observed the best—Darren. One thing he was good at was managing people. He said it was simple. Be direct, specific, and clear, and give subordinates their own authority where possible. Too bad he’d never been direct with her.
