With some effort, she managed to shift her grip on the reins, cueing the horse to angle west, away from the coast. Although the route she’d taken to get here was a straight path back to Toryn, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk the lack of cover on the beach. Already, Drake’s horse’s neck was lathered with sweat, his breathing harsh and labored. She didn’t know how much longer she could force the animal to run.
They leaped over a small log and galloped into the forest, the moon above blotted out in an instant as they entered the cover of the trees. Ashlyn racked her brain for the layout of the island, simultaneously cursing her faulty memory and her own stupidity for not returning to her homeland more often over the last three years. From what she could recall, the forest thinned out closer to a small lake, and on the other side of the lake were The Barrens, where her mother was buried. From there it was an easy enough trek to Toryn.
The gelding faltered, a slight stumble, a skip in the rhythmic run, and that was the only warning that Ashlyn had before the poor creature went down. Suddenly Ashlyn was tumbling forward, head over heels because she hadn’t had time to prepare herself for it, and she felt the crunchy leaves jump up to bite into her shoulders as she rolled. She came to an unceremonious stop against the trunk of a tree, hard enough to hurt but not enough to injure, and lay there for a moment, trying to catch her breath.
“Dad!” She bolted upright, belatedly remembering that she hadn’t been alone in the saddle.
Her father was lying face-down a few feet away. Ashlyn crawled to him and gently pulled at his shoulder, turning him over. He was still unconscious, and far too frail and light, his cheeks sunken, his normally tanned skin pale and drawn. One arm was bent at an odd angle below the elbow, obviously broken.
“Oh Dad,” she muttered, tears springing to her eyes. She hastily untied her belt and looked around. There was a stick close by that was a bit too thin and long, but would still work for now. She snapped it over her knee to make it a more suitable size, then gently picked up her dad’s arm, straightening it very slowly. She prodded the skin with her fingers, feeling the bone within. It seemed like a clean break, but she didn’t want to try setting it herself. Instead she placed the stick against the arm and wrapped her leather belt around both the arm and the stick as many times as she could, tying a knot to secure the makeshift splint. At least she could prevent it from being injured any further until they got back to Toryn.
Lord Li’s breathing was steady but light. Ashlyn looked over at where Drake’s horse lay, its sides heaving. She couldn’t force the animal to move, and they’d already run so far. She bit her lip, wondering if anyone had followed them. No one had confronted them yet, so maybe she was in the clear. What should she do?
The plan was, if they got separated, to meet up back in the city, but that would be a difficult trek to make without a horse. Maybe if she waited a bit, the horse would recover enough to take them back, even if it was just at a walk. If not…Ashlyn supposed she could probably drag her father, although she’d have to construct some kind of stretcher that she could pull behind her. It would be very slow going.
Right now the most important thing was to get under some kind of cover. Ashlyn sat quietly, listening to the sound of running water. She knew she wasn’t close enough to the beach to hear the ocean, so she was probably close to the lake. Was there a cave behind the waterfall there? She frowned, trying to remember. It had been so long.
Drake’s horse startled her by lifting its head at that moment, stretching its upper lip out comically as it tested the air with its nose. Ashlyn got to her feet, wincing at a slight pain in her ankle, and walked to the gelding. One foreleg was stretched out in front of it, and she ran a hand down the coarse hair, noting that the leg was already swelling, but did not appear to be broken.
She didn’t know if heal worked on animals or not, but she wasn’t very skilled with the magic anyway and it would be very risky to attempt to heal a patient who couldn’t say what was wrong or where it hurt. Ashlyn sighed, chewing on her lower lip as she debated what to do. Her father wasn’t very heavy and the horse could probably handle his weight, even with the injured leg. If she could somehow manage to get her father on the horse, they could at least get to the lake and seek out shelter. The issue would be getting her dad on and then convincing the horse to get up.
She looped her hands under her dad’s arms, holding at the apex of his arm and shoulder, and grunted as she tried to drag him towards the horse. The first attempt only moved him a few inches, and Ashlyn gritted her teeth. She dug in her feet, bent her knees and hauled as hard as she could. As thin as he was, her dad was still much bigger than her. “Your bones are heavy, old man,” she groused as they moved along, inch by painful inch. “I’m never letting you give me a hard time about my weight, ever.”
Her stomach grumbled loudly when she finally got her father to the horse, and she realized suddenly that she hadn’t had anything to eat in more than a day. Well, plenty of time for that later. With some effort, Ashlyn managed to prop her dad up against the side of the horse, soothing the animal when it seemed a little bothered by what she was doing. Eventually she was able to get Lord Li’s leg over the saddle, and from there she pushed him up so that he was lopsidedly lying on the horse’s back, as much on the saddle as she could get him. Now it was just a question of getting the horse up without her dad falling off.
Ashlyn picked up her makeshift weapon harness where it lay next to a tree, noting that it had torn when she’d gone flying. She’d have to fix it somehow. Sighing, she picked up the reins off the ground and moved back to stand beside the horse’s belly. How is this going to work? She held the reins in her left hand and hooked the weapon harness over her right wrist so she could grab her dad’s leg with that hand. “Okay, mister,” she muttered. “Time to give me a hand here.” She tugged upward on the reins.
Fortunately, Drake’s gelding was nothing like the horse that had almost gotten Ashlyn killed in battle less than an hour before, and the black steed obediently gathered its hooves underneath it and tried to stand. As Ashlyn expected, the animal rose to its feet unevenly, and the saddle listed off to one side, but fortunately she was able to grab onto her dad’s uninjured arm and maintain her hold on his leg to keep him from falling off. One of the saddle bags came loose and fell to the ground, but she figured she could come back and get that later.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Ashlyn whispered, patting the horse’s neck. “And thank you. I promise I’ll give you a break if you can just get us to the lake, sweetheart. Come on now.” Checking to make sure that her dad was still resting evenly on the horse’s back, Ashlyn started off in the direction of the lake, leading with the reins.
It took them several minutes to complete what should have been a thirty second walk, but Ashlyn wasn’t complaining when they finally emerged into a clearing with a beautiful, sparkling lake and a small waterfall. She edged around the lake, trying to steer clear of the muddy parts so as not to leave tracks, and made her way to the waterfall.
The horse knew how to ground-tie, right? It had certainly appeared that way earlier. “Um…stay,” she said uncertainly to the gelding, dropping the reins and pointing at the ground. “I’ll be right back.”
The horse lowered its head and tore up a mouthful of grass, chewing placidly.
“Oh, good. You just stay here and eat.” Ashlyn hobbled to the edge of the waterfall and stretched out a hand through the curtain of water, trying to see if there was a crevice behind it. She felt nothing- just air. She ducked through, holding her hands out in front of her to stop her if she encountered a wall, but when she emerged on the other side, she was happy to see a damp cavern stretching back into the mountain. It was small, much too small and wet for a permanent dwelling place, but big enough for two people and a horse to hide out for a little while.
Even after satisfying its appetite for grass, Drake’s horse didn’t want to go through the water, but at her persistent urging, the gelding finally stuck his
head through, and then, as if he were scared the water might not allow the rest of his body to enter as well, suddenly took a huge leap and skidded into the cave awkwardly. Ashlyn yelped and dropped her weapon harness, barely catching her father as he slid off the horse’s back. She fell back against the cave wall, but managed to stay upright.
“Okay, Dad…calm down…we made it,” she said to the still-unconscious Lord Li, grunting as she dragged him to the back of the cave and laid him down next to the wall. “Now I just have to figure out what to do next.” She checked his pulse, which was still strong. When he woke up she’d give him some water to try to replenish his fluids, but of course sleep would help right now, too.
The horse seemed all right too, but was favoring his front leg even more after the total overkill of his giant leap, which just figured. Ashlyn removed the saddle and rubbed down the tired horse with the damp saddle blanket. She found a sheathed dagger and a pair of gloves in the remaining saddle bag, and strapped the dagger to her leg, figuring that any additional weapons she could carry would be helpful right now. There was also a mostly dry blanket at the bottom of the saddle bag, which she draped over her dad, tucking it under him as best she could. He was wet from his trip through the waterfall, and she didn’t want to worry about him getting hypothermia on top of everything else.
She healed the cut on her hand that she’d gotten from her shuriken earlier, and put on the gloves. Even damp, they smelled like Drake.
She didn’t want to think about Drake. Ashlyn slumped against the wall, one hand against her forehead, and tried to think about what to do next.
The crashing of the waterfall was too damn loud.
I have to go outside and get that saddle bag anyway before someone finds it, she thought, and glanced over at her father. He was still sleeping soundly. She’d go out and get the saddle bag and then come right back. She supposed they could just spend the night here and leave in the morning- and maybe, just maybe, the horse would be well enough to carry her father by then.
Ashlyn ducked through the waterfall again, shivering as the cold water hit her already-chilled skin and plastered her jagged hair to her neck. She ran a hand over the sopping locks ruefully as she stepped onto the grass. Skye had cut off a good chunk of it- not that he could have done anything different, of course, trying to get her away from Drake. But she could feel the uneven ends and knew it must look terrible. Some Elder Heir she was. Soaking wet, dirty and hungry, with a questionable hairstyle, Ashlyn knew she probably resembled a drowned rat more than the Lady of Toryn at that moment.
She paused several times on her way towards the saddle bag, smoothing out their tracks so that anyone who happened upon the lake wouldn’t be able to follow them to the waterfall. With luck, anyone who came by would just keep on going.
She was pushing leaves back into place with her boot when she heard the growling, and somehow she knew immediately that it was Drake. She turned to face him, and saw his eyes in the darkness, glowing red and closer than expected.
She had time for a single breath before he charged at her.
Ashlyn spun out of the way, drawing the knife from the sheath on her thigh and catching Drake’s midsection as he passed. Instead of moving away from the blade, he turned and grabbed her arm, letting the dagger cut deeper as he swooped down to bite her forearm. Ashlyn yanked her hand back and kicked him in the face, then cartwheeled aside, trying to put some distance between them.
She honestly had no idea what to do. She had known the resist stane tempered Drake’s bloodlust, but she hadn’t known the extent of his lunacy without the calming magic. Was it possible to reason with him?
“Drake, it’s me,” she told him, holding up a hand to show that she didn’t want to hurt him. “It’s Ashlyn. The- the girl you couldn’t forget, the one like a dying rainbow.” She felt silly saying it out loud, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
He snarled and swiped at her half-heartedly with one hand as they circled each other, Drake moving out from the cover of forest onto the grass next to the lake and Ashlyn following. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she wasn’t about to let him get near her dad in this condition.
“Let me help you,” she said, trying to keep his attention. “I have the resist stane. Don’t you want to put it back on?” Again, she felt profoundly ridiculous talking to Drake like this, as though he were a petulant child in need of coaxing.
He ignored her words and lunged forward again, fangs bared. She swiped the knife at him, but he grabbed her wrist, then her other wrist when she attempted to punch him. His strength was unnerving, and Ashlyn winced at both the vice-like grip and the heat of his skin against hers. His hands felt like they were on fire.
Drake snarled again and tried to bite her, but she dodged awkwardly and kicked at his knee with one leg. He danced out of the way so that her blow just glanced off his calf, and tried to bite her again. This time Ashlyn dropped to her knees and fell backwards, repeating the same move she’d done earlier when she used her feet to fling him over her head. He held onto her wrists though, and she squealed as he dragged her with him. Rolling over onto her stomach, Ashlyn scrambled to her feet, Drake just inches away and still clutching her wrists.
Furious now, Ashlyn kicked at his knee a second time and jerked her arms up, loosening his grip but not quite breaking it. She landed a solid boot to his stomach and managed to twist her wrist, gashing his forearm with the knife. Drake roared and yanked his hands back. Finally! Ashlyn whirled, hitting him in the side of the face first with her fist and then the hilt of the knife, knocking him to his knees. It might have been a lethal blow if she’d used the blade, but she wasn’t about to kill Drake Lockhart without at least trying to use resist to save him.
She moved to kick him, hoping to knock him out, but he grabbed her leg and threw her down. Ashlyn fell flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and suddenly Drake was on top of her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them down beside her head. The hand with the knife slid across the grass as he tried to force the weapon out of her hand, but she held tight.
Their eyes met, and for a moment Ashlyn thought she saw a glimmer of recognition, a hint of the man she knew.
Then he snarled and buried his face in her neck, and she knew he was going to bite her.
As she felt his fangs sink in, the air was instantly sucked from her lungs, her breath rushing out in one pitiful, mewing scream-
“Drake!”
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Drake froze against her, the painful pressure of his teeth stilling. His hands, clenched over her wrists, trembled, pushing her hands deeper into the thick grass as he visibly fought for control.
After a long moment, she felt his fangs recede completely, a trickle of blood tickling her neck as he pulled away.
He drew in a shuddering breath. Exhaled. His fingers pried themselves free of her wrists, seeking hold in the grass, digging into the earth in agony at the forced restraint.
“Ashlyn.” His voice was guttural, hoarse with desperation.
She squirmed underneath him, flinching when he growled at the increased physical contact. Her gloved fingers found the smooth stone and clenched around it. “I’ve got it,” she rasped, surprised her voice was working at all, and yanked the resist stane out of her pocket to press it, palm up, against his chest.
The change was immediate. He gasped, one hand coming up to cover hers. His breath caught, his head thrown back as his weight let up, and she could breathe again. His irises were glowing in the moonlight, the brightest red she’d ever seen, the color of fresh blood, and Ashlyn lay there, fascinated as the shifting colors warred with each other inside his eyes- dark crimsons and brilliant scarlets, rolling, twisting and fading into one another as the vampire slowly began to regain control.
He braced one arm against the ground beside her head and dropped his forehead to the grass above her shoulder- not quite putting his entire weight back on her, but not giving her any room
to move, either. His breathing became deep and even, the intense heat fading from his skin.
They stayed that way for what might have been mere moments, or maybe an eternity. Ashlyn lay still, entranced as ever by the lack of heartbeat beneath her fingers, but feeling as though she’d crossed a threshold with Drake- something they couldn’t come back from. She’d seen him lose control before, but never to this point. He’d never lost resist before.
He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, saved her when she was in danger of falling to pieces. Stupidly, in addition to her relief and receding fear, Ashlyn felt…vindicated, somehow. She’d been able to return the favor.
His fingers moved against her hand. She could feel the coolness of his skin through her gloves.
She pulled her hand from under his, leaving the stane against his chest, and pressed her fingers to her neck.
“I’ll probably bleed to death,” she said faintly, trying to keep her tone light. “Thanks a lot.”
His sharp exhalation was more like a bark than a laugh. There was no humor in the sound.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She nodded.
He shifted his weight onto one arm, the other hand coming up to cradle her face. The resist stane pressed against her skin, warming between his palm and her cheek. Ashlyn swallowed and met his eyes, her nervousness subsiding as the calming effects of the magic enveloped her.
She could hardly breathe as she stared into his face, Drake’s face, the face of the man who both captivated and frightened her. The perfect, angular planes of his features were shadowed in the moonlight.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, fingers trailing along her cheek. “Ashlyn-“ His voice broke, and he shook his head as he looked down at her. There was affection in his gaze, and that same deep, simmering something that constantly lurked at the corners of his eyes like a shadow. Suddenly Ashlyn was wary.
“Don’t- don’t do this,” she said unevenly.
The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Page 29
