His hand stilled against her temple. “Do what?”
His cluelessness was infuriating. “This,” she hissed, trying to wriggle out from underneath him and gaining courage with every passing second. “This- this leading me on. It’s getting old. I’m tired of your words and…and the way you look at me and I’m- I’m tired of getting my heart stomped by you!”
He wouldn’t budge, his weight pinning her down, and she used one hand to push at his chest with all her might, the other arm still awkwardly pinned above her and clenching the knife. “Who are you kidding, Drake? You bit me, I’m pretty sure that’s a clear indication of your real feelings! You’re not doing this to me anymore! Get off!”
“Ashlyn- wait.” He caught her wrist, interlacing their fingers, pushing her hand down into the grass again. “I didn’t-“
“I don’t want to hear another one of your stupid speeches!” she yelled in his face, and brandished the knife menacingly- or as menacingly as she could manage, with its awkward angle off to the side and without the required range of motion to use it. “I put up with so much from you- your stupid resist magic and your brooding and your angst! You ignore me for years before screwing with my mind, all your crap about rainbows and passion and destiny and then you turn and walk away like I’m just some stupid little kid- like I’m a diversion for when you get bored- only I’m real and you’re not, and I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt. So you know what, bloodsucker? You can-”
Her next word was smothered as his mouth came down on hers, hard.
Ashlyn squeaked in surprise, tried to turn her head to the side, but he dragged their linked hands above her head, and braced his other hand next to her temple, so that her face was trapped and she couldn’t move.
What was he doing? Determined not to let him break down her defenses, Ashlyn dropped the knife and struggled to get her other arm free, to push him away. A few heartbeats later, he finally released her, his hands moving to frame her face.
Her blood was roaring in her ears, singing a faint melody that was somehow familiar and welcoming, and even though Ashlyn meant to push him off, she meant to draw her fist back and punch the hell out of him- somehow she found herself pulling him closer instead, her fingers sliding into his hair as his mouth moved against hers. The combination of his lips and hands and the warming effect of the resist stane were intoxicating.
His teeth scraped against her lower lip, and she paused, tasting her own blood on his tongue.
He hesitated at her sharp intake of breath, and pulled back, ruby gaze taking in her shallow breathing, the blood smeared across her mouth. Ashlyn returned the stare unabashedly. She didn’t often have a chance to look Drake in the eye without feeling embarrassed about it.
After a long moment, he sighed and eased himself off her, sitting back on the grass and rubbing a hand across his eyes exhaustedly.
At length, Ashlyn sat up, aching all over from the numerous brutal battles she’d fought today. It felt…surreal. He’d gone from rage and bloodlust to…well…lust of another kind, all too quickly for her to keep up with.
Drake tied the cord at the back of his neck to hold the resist stane in place. “Let me see,” he said, leaning closer. When Ashlyn tilted her head to the side, he swept her hair back behind her shoulder, his breath hissing between his teeth as he surveyed the puncture wounds on her neck. His fingers warmed against her neck, a green glow lighting his face briefly as he healed her.
Ashlyn shifted, staring at the moonlit blades of grass, and wondering if the entire world had changed in the last few moments, or if she was simply seeing it more clearly now.
There was something to be said for a kiss from the man you’d pined over for three years. It certainly wasn’t anything close to what her muddled brain had been able to imagine, and hugely different from the limited experience she’d had previously.
Vargo’s kisses had teased her- tempted her with the allure of the unknown, the beauty of possibilities.
Kissing Drake was…different. Like watching the sunrise after a lifetime of darkness, or tasting a delicacy that was the only one of its kind. Each sensation was heightened, the breath in her lungs tasting of sweet dew and the fresh hint of rain, the sounds of the night like a symphony to her senses.
When her eyes flicked to Drake, she was surprised to see that he was staring right at her, his expression bleak.
“Thanks,” she said lamely, feeling a little foolish.
He shook his head, fingers still against her neck. He looked completely at a loss as to how to respond, but when his gaze returned to hers, there was a resolve in his eyes.
He was going to apologize. He was going to pull a typical Drake, backtrack and run away- and Ashlyn realized suddenly how dangerous this was, being caught under the spell of a vampire when he displayed such an obvious aversion to her affection.
“Don’t worry about it,” she blurted out, and pulled away before he could say anything. His hand fell from her neck.
“Ashlyn,” he said gently. “Don’t.”
“Don’t…what?” She smiled humorlessly as she repeated his own words back to him, and took a slow, deep breath. “The last time I tried to talk to you about…us…you said I was asking you to be something you couldn’t. Stop confusing me. I’m not asking you to be anything but who you are, Drake. This-” she motioned awkwardly to her blood-streaked neck- “this is who you are.”
Drake shook his head. “This is what I am. It has nothing to do with who I am. And that night…” He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Ashlyn, that night…”
“You don’t have to explain to me,” she said. It was not an experience she particularly wanted to relive anyway. She raised her hands, tucking her hair behind her ears and averting her gaze.
“Stop.” Unexpectedly, he grabbed her wrists.
Rather than flinching, she glared up at him. “What’s going to happen now?” she said angrily. “I’m really confused. Are you going to pretend I don’t exist every time Trace comes around? Walk away the next time I try to tell you what I’m feeling? Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve had enough heartbreak for one lifetime.”
He lowered his hands but didn’t release her wrists, frowning. “What does Trace have to do with anything?”
“You tell me. What is she to you?”
“She’s…” He paused, eyes searching hers. “Ashlyn, why are you asking me?”
“Why did you kiss me?” she shot back. “Why the hell do you keep confusing me like this?”
“Why do you keep coming back to me?” he snarled. He stood abruptly, and turned away, the quaking of his body like a drum in Ashlyn’s ears under her heightened senses. She watched his hands trembling at his sides, a lump in her throat.
The way he’d looked that day at North Camp Inn- so carefree and happy- was emblazoned in her mind’s eye, a horrible point of contrast to the enraged monster that stood before her now.
She shifted, sitting cross-legged and folding her hands neatly in her lap. “I make things difficult for you, don’t I,” she said sadly.
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
She pursed her lips, staring at her hands and wondering how much of life consisted of destiny. Had she created this connection between them on her own? How could she have been so completely enamored if their fates weren’t somehow intertwined? Could she have truly fallen for Drake if they weren’t meant to be together?
She didn’t realize he had knelt in front of her until his hands covered hers. Ashlyn looked up reluctantly, trying not to think about how she was setting herself up for yet another rejection from him.
“I push you away, and yet you always seem to find a way back to me,” he said, and his eyes were solemn despite the curve to his mouth. He reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and his touch was tentative and gentle. “Tell me. What do you want?”
“Me?” she said numbly, and he nodded. His grip tightened on her fingers, a welcome pressure that distracted her from the confusing jumble of he
r thoughts.
She swallowed hard, and met his gaze, knowing that her heart was in her eyes. “I want you.”
He nodded again, thoughtfully, looking as though he’d expected her answer. “Why?”
Ashlyn smiled despite herself, an easy grin that might have been followed up with a snarky comeback if it had been anyone else kneeling in front of her. Drake was so serious now, and this was not a situation she’d ever expected to find herself in. She remembered the day he’d carried her away from Soryl, let her cry in his arms, and said exactly the right words to her. He’d been the man she needed then, the man she had always wanted him to be, but she hadn’t realized exactly how deeply she cared for him until the night .he’d rejected her.
“Because I love you, stupid,” she said wryly, knowing that ignoring the feeling wouldn’t make it go away any more than ignoring Drake would make him disappear. She was both elated and miserable at finally being able to say it out loud, but there was also a sense of defiance in her words. Despite his attempts to rebuff her, Ashlyn’s emotions hadn’t changed. A fifteen-year old girl’s childish crush was one thing, but genuine, lasting love was quite another.
“Where is Skye?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.
Drake sighed, and raised a hand to his chin, rubbing pensively as he looked around. “I don’t know. I was fighting the soldiers and he ran. Then I came after you.”
“So considerate of you,” she muttered.
“We shared blood,” he reminded her. “We share a bond now that cannot be broken, even if I am without resist.”
“So I’m the first person you’re going to try to murder every time you snap?”
Drake rolled his eyes. “You view things so negatively.”
“Oh, will you…ugh. Whatever. My dad is in the cave behind the waterfall. Assuming you’re done with your bloody rampage, can you please give me a hand with him? He could really use some mending right now.”
“Ashlyn.”
She looked up, exasperated. “What?”
He tilted her chin up with his fingers and leaned down, placing a firm kiss on her lips. “Thank you.”
He was talking about how she’d saved his psychotic vampire butt with resist, of course, and Ashlyn knew she should make some snarky comeback, but her mind was completely blank. She blushed furiously, unsure what to make of his behavior. “Um…no problem.”
Chapter 6
Let Go
After all the indecision and heartbreak, Ashlyn had expected there to be some ambivalence regarding what had happened with Drake. She supposed, at the very least, that she ought to feel guilty for kissing Drake when Vargo was waiting for her in Toryn.
Somehow though, she couldn’t find it in herself to be unhappy. She was giddy inside, feeling alive and hopeful for the first time in a long while, and when she opened her eyes in the morning to find herself curled against Drake’s side, his arm draped protectively over her shoulders, she smiled to herself and snuggled closer.
She’d fallen asleep alone, leaning up against the cave wall and shivering from the cold. Despite their kiss just hours before, Drake’s closeness now came as a surprise. His words and demeanor while he was tending to her father last night had been no different from his usual solemn, distant countenance. He had carefully set the bone in her father’s arm and healed it, then done his best to smooth over the skin that was scabbed and scarred from frequent bloodletting. But there was nothing he could do for Lord Li’s anemic state. Only time would heal that affliction.
Drake had echoed Ashlyn’s sentiments regarding the danger of trying to use the heal stane on the black horse, and had agreed to leave the injury alone till daylight. Ashlyn suspected he would try to heal the gelding’s leg anyway if it wasn’t better this morning, since they both knew that it was essential they return to Toryn as soon as possible.
From the back of the cave, a voice croaked her name. “A…Ashlyn.” Her father’s voice was rusty from disuse, barely audible over the roar of the waterfall.
Ashlyn scrambled out from underneath Drake’s arm and dashed to Lord Li’s side. “Dad! I’m so glad you’re awake,” she whispered, wanting to hug him but unsure if it would be appropriate. “Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” he rasped, and she rushed to get a canteen. She smiled hesitantly at Drake, who was just waking up, and one corner of the vampire’s mouth curved in tired acknowledgment. He looked exhausted. He obviously hadn’t slept as well as she had.
She helped to prop her father’s head up while he drank, and wiped some droplets from the corner of his mouth with her glove when he was finished. She moved to put the canteen back in the saddle bag, but his fingers fluttered weakly, reaching for her hand. Ashlyn sat cross-legged beside him and threaded her fingers through his, unsure of what to say.
“I thought…I thought you were dead,” he said to her, eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake.
“You know me better than that,” she said, smiling as she brushed a lock of unkempt hair from his forehead. “But you weren’t the only one that Kou deceived.”
“Kou…Devlyn.” Now Lord Li did close his eyes, and a tear squeezed out one corner and made its way down his temple. “I…misjudged…him.”
Ashlyn grimaced. “It must be a weakness of the Li bloodline. I did, too.”
“He is no…better than…Lord Angelo. He must…be stopped.”
“I’m not sure if Skye was able to kill him last night or not,” she said, “but if he’s still alive, I’ll find him and put an end to this. Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t let you down.”
Her dad nodded faintly, his eyes fluttering shut again. Ashlyn leaned down to kiss his hand, reveling at the feel of his knuckles against her cheek. She’d spent so long pushing aside her emotions for the sake of Toryn, trying to convince herself that she could kill her father if it became necessary, that it seemed surreal to be here with him now. She wished he was stronger so they could talk. It had been three years since she’d last seen him, and there was a lot to catch up on.
After a long moment, she tucked his hand back under the blanket and stood. When she turned, Drake was kneeling next to his horse, light scattering through the curtain of water and highlighting his dark silhouette.
She picked up her shuriken and her knapsack from the ground, shrugging into the blue straps and securing the weapon on her back. “How is he?” she asked.
Drake shook his head silently, his gloveless hand gently working its way down the gelding’s leg, which appeared even more swollen than it had been last night.
Ashlyn folded her arms across her chest, contemplating their options. She felt much better with Drake here, but that didn’t solve the problem of how to get back to Toryn.
A flash of color caught her eye through the waterfall, and she frowned, moving closer so she could try to see outside. The water kept her from seeing much, but she did make out a small blob of red moving swiftly across the opposite side of the lake. It was high up enough that it could be an unusually-colored bird…or maybe a person with bright red hair…on horseback.
Vargo!
Ashlyn rushed to the edge of the cave, holding her hand up to shield her face from the worst of the wet. She heard Drake say her name as she ducked through the waterfall, but she ignored the warning in his voice. There was only one person on the island right now with that exact garnet shade of hair.
She slipped on some moss, and one boot went into the water. Ashlyn grimaced and hastily leaped onto the wet grass at the lake’s edge, shaking her foot. Using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she peered across the clearing and saw Vargo disappearing into the forest.
Cursing under her breath, she bit her lip. She didn’t particularly want to draw attention to herself by shouting, but the Spartan’s horse was already moving at a fast trot and she wasn’t sure she would be able to catch up.
“Vargo!” she yelled, running after him. “Wait!”
She sprinted across the grass as fast as she could, which was pr
etty fast considering one boot was sopping wet, incredibly slippery and squishing out water with every step.
Vargo must have heard her though, because she was still at least fifty feet from the edge of the forest when he suddenly burst out from the trees at breakneck speed. Ashlyn came to a sudden halt, both from surprise and an intense desire not to be squashed by a galloping horse.
The horse hadn’t even come to a complete stop before Vargo jumped off and closed the distance between them in three long strides. Ashlyn was yanked into a hug, his arms going around her as he pulled her to him.
“Thank the gods,” he murmured against her hair, and Ashlyn smiled uneasily, unsure of how to respond. Her arms were pinned to her sides, so she couldn’t return the hug- and, oh yeah, that huge boatload of guilt that she totally hadn’t missed earlier? It was making an appearance now.
“Are you okay?” he said, pulling back but keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Where’s your father?”
“I’m fine- he’s in the cave behind the waterfall. He’s not so good.” Her mind was already racing. She could send her dad back to Toryn with Vargo, and stay behind with Drake until Aaron could come pick them up in the airship. Or she could just send Vargo to fetch the airship. She didn’t like the idea of moving her father, but he needed medical care as soon as possible.
Vargo tucked her wet, tangled hair behind her ears, his hands lingering at her neck. “Skye made it back to Toryn last night. He told us everything, said that you’d be meeting him there, but when you didn’t show this morning, I knew something must be wrong. What happened?”
“I’m so glad that Skye is okay,” she said, pressing a hand to her suddenly-warm cheek. “My horse tripped while we were escaping, and came up lame. We really need to get my father to Toryn. Can you take him back with you? I can stay here until Aaron can bring the airship.”
“Hang on just a second,” Vargo replied, and finally let go of her to turn to his horse. He pulled a long red cylinder from the saddle bag and cracked it against his leg, then flung it as far as he could towards the large end of the clearing. The cylinder landed in the yellowing crab grass and began smoking fiercely.
The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Page 30
