“I must.” I turned my cheek so his lips no longer brushed my ear.
“I understand.” His sigh blew warm air across my neck, and I shivered. “I promised myself I wouldn’t ask you to stay, that I would let you make your own decision, yet I did and you have.”
Hope sparked in my heart, and I turned so our noses almost touched. “Come with me.”
Shock widened his eyes, and I would have laughed except that fear chased his surprise.
“I—I can’t,” he stuttered.
I cupped his cheek in my hand. “Then we have nothing left to say.”
His hand covered mine. “Errol—”
“—has proven he can call you with a thought across great distances.”
Brynmor glanced away. “He needs me.”
“Does he? Or do you need him?” Brynmor’s silence told me I was right. “Are you using the pack as an excuse to remain near Cathis? You might have accepted that you can’t play an active role in your son’s life, but have you accepted the fact that if you remain in this world, then you must lead your own? What is the point of being given a second chance if you don’t take it?”
“Errol is wounded.” Brynmor glanced aside. “His life is in danger until he’s recovered.”
I forced his gaze back to mine. “I agree he is at risk until he recovers.”
“You’re asking too much,” he said finally. “It’s too dangerous for him, and for me.”
“Once Errol has recovered, nothing is holding you here. If he needs you, he can call you.”
Brynmor shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
“You two speak mind to mind,” I pointed out. “You will be in constant contact while we travel. If you can’t hear Errol once we cross onto Segestriidae land, then you can return to Cathis and I’ll continue alone.”
“You’re asking me for too much.”
“No.” I patted his cheek. “You’re offering me too little.”
He grasped my shoulders and shook me. “I’m offering you all I have.”
“You’re offering me what makes you comfortable. It’s not the same thing.”
Embers of desire cooled between us, and I shivered from the loss.
Turning from Brynmor, I ignored the burn of his stare blazing into my back and gathered my things. Tempted as I was to accept his offer, I should leave now. It was the best thing for us both.
Ties from his past moored him in place. If he cut them, we could drift through life together. By anchoring himself to the life he once had, he cast aside any hope of a future for the two of us.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Brynmor.” The smile I gave him was fond. “I hope you and Errol enjoy many years of peace and that Jana prospers.” I waved over my shoulder. “Farewell.”
Without waiting for a response, I set off down a narrow trail I’d spotted earlier. In my hand, I turned over the necklace Brynmor had given me. It would pay for my travels for several years if I worked up the nerve to part with it. I wasn’t sure I could. Memories faded too quickly, and I wanted some remembrance from the time I had spent in the woods among a canis pack with the spirit of a legendary Mimetidae paladin who I missed already.
After picking my way back to the river, I realized I had lost my spears again at some point.
A warrior, I was not.
Usually I was not so absentminded, either, but Brynmor had driven me to distraction.
Rather than face him again, I began weaving a fresh net for myself. As I strolled the sandbar I kept an eye out for flint. If I found a large enough piece, I could knap it into a new spearhead. I could go days without a spear if I had a proper net, but Errol had destroyed mine. I longed for a spear, though, and would rest easier with a solid weapon in hand.
“You forgot something.”
I froze as Brynmor’s voice washed over me. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you.” Rocks crunched underfoot as he approached me. “You forgot something.”
My head fell back on my shoulders. “What might that be?”
He grasped my arms and tugged me against him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He bent his head, lips whispering over my throat, across my jaw before trailing to my ear. “Me.”
I shivered as his fangs rasped over my skin. “No biting.”
“That’s all you have to say to me?” The pressure of his mouth, his teeth, increased.
Thinking was impossible with his body pressed to mine. All my objections whirled away in a burst of relief that Brynmor had come for me. “Why are you here?” I needed to hear the words.
“You were right. I am not the male I once was. That Brynmor has died. His burdens are not mine to bear.” He exhaled. “My son is a wiser and stronger leader than I ever was, and Isolde… She finally has her freedom.” He brushed a kiss across my temple. “I was thinking freedom might be nice, if I had some way to occupy my time and someone to spend it with.”
“Hmm.” I leaned into him. “I have this necklace. Silver. Heavy. Expensive. I thought if I sold it, I might buy a boat.”
Of course I saw no need to tell him the thought had just occurred to me.
The delicious thing he was doing with his mouth against my pulse stopped. “A boat?”
“A person could spend a lot of time on a boat.” I reached behind me, between our bodies. “I worry it might get lonely.” I cupped the hardened proof of his arousal, and he groaned against my neck. “I could use company.” I braced myself for yet another rejection. “Well, what do you say?”
“I say…” His lips returned to my ear. “Yes.”
I released him, turning in his arms, needing to face him. “Are you sure?”
“I will always have ties to Cathis, to my son and to Errol.” He cradled my jaw. “But if you’ll have me, I will show you all this world has to offer.” He traced my bottom lip. “And when death comes, we will cross into the spiritlands, discover the paradise the gods created for us, together.”
“That sounds permanent.” I enjoyed the way his cheeks flushed.
“I would like us to be.”
Leaning closer, I smoothed his collar. “I might take you on. Someone has to row after all.”
He blinked. “You’re offering me…work?”
I tapped a finger to his lips. “Relationships are work. You of all people must know that.”
“True.” He nipped my fingertip before saying, “You’ve made me a tempting offer.”
“And?” I asked, despite myself. “What do you say?”
He appeared to give my terms due consideration before a smile broke across his face. “Yes.”
“Good.” I breathed, fusing his mouth to mine.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tugged him closer and pressed as much of myself against him as possible. Hard flesh and hot male pressed back, so real I moaned. His fingers bit into my sides, the slight pain making me crave what came next. This was much more than airy kisses and wind-whispered caresses. This was Brynmor’s skin beneath my fingertips, his taste in my mouth.
Brynmor tugged up my shirt, his hands splaying over my ribs. “Take this off.”
“You first.” I worked the tie of his pants. “Wait. We can’t just—not out in the open.”
His hands crept higher until he cupped my breasts. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I slipped my hand into his pants and found him as ready as I was. “I do have a tent.”
Brynmor shuddered in my grip. “You aren’t serious.”
I stroked him once, and then again. “Oh, but I am.”
He sighed. “This is because of Errol, isn’t it?”
“You took me in a hole, in the dirt,” I said drily, “an arm’s length from a canis.”
At least Brynmor had the grace to grimace. “Fine.”
He reached behind me, into my pack, removed the heavy fabric of my tent and shook it out. A flick of his wrist spread the material over the ground. He hooked his arm around my waist and lifted me off my feet while he kicked the edges
of the tent into position.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted a tent.” He kissed me hard, fast. “I’m giving you a tent.”
He tugged my shirt overhead, then lay me down beneath the stars. I tilted my head back and admired the moon while he made quick work of removing my boots and pants. His clothes vanished in a trick I envied. Crawling up my body, he braced his knees between my open thighs.
Smoothing hands down the muscular curve of his spine, I snorted. “I was right about you.”
His breath hit my chest. His lips brushed against my breast when he said, “Oh?”
“When you disappeared that first time, I thought you were Kwaku Ananse.”
He paused. “The trickster god?”
“It explained a lot then.” I gestured toward his nudity. “It explains more now.”
When he grinned, I noticed his distended fangs. I chose to ignore them.
He tilted his head in a very canislike manner. “Explain it to me.”
“You’re cunning, and you’re ruthless in the pursuit and acquisition of what you want.”
“Hmm.” He nodded. “Admirable qualities.”
I rolled my eyes. “You would think so.”
“Perhaps I can convince you.” His grin came slow, and it was sharp. “Let me show you how ruthless I can be…” he nipped my right breast, “…in the pursuit and acquisition of what I want.”
I yelped. “No biting.”
His fangs scratched over my nipple. “Aren’t you going to ask what I want?”
“I know what you want.” I slapped his chest.
“Do you?” he asked, eyes searching mine.
Aligning our sexes, I elicited a shiver from him. “That is what you want.”
The teasing laughter drained from his eyes, replaced by an emotion I wasn’t ready to name.
I let my legs fall open, lifted my hips and welcomed the hot press of his erection at my core.
“No.” His wide palms cupped my face. As he slid deep into me, he whispered, “Just you.”
His tender words made my foolish heart flutter hard enough for the both of us.
I had followed the river in the hopes of finding my heart, and perhaps I had found my match in Brynmor. It was too soon for us to know. But I had found something infinitely more precious.
I had found myself.
A Time of Dying
Araneae Nation, Book 3
A Time of Dying Blurb
They just might survive…if they don’t kill each other first.
Once the future Segestriidae maven, Kaidi lived a privileged life. Now she spends her nights haunting cities ravaged by the plague. Spade in hand, she stalks rows of freshly dug graves for corpses…and then she takes their heads.
Her new life is caked in blood and spattered with gore, but it’s hers. At least until—to her fury—she’s caught napping.
A plague survivor by the skin of his teeth, Murdoch risks his neck to solve the mysteries left in its wake. Bodies have gone missing. Guards have left their posts and never returned home.
When he rouses a female dozing among the dead, he’s unprepared for the violence of her response. Or his. Beneath the grime, she’s lovely. Too bad the blood under her fingernails belongs to his clansmen.
He has no choice but to follow this alluring creature deeper into her world of winged beasts and flesh-eating monsters. She holds the knowledge he craves, but the price is high—and they may both pay for it with their lives.
Warning: This book contains one heroine in desperate need of a bath and one hero willing to wash away her sins. Expect threats, swears and general cursing. Love is a slippery slope, and these two are sliding.
Chapter 1
Freckled skin gave beneath my spade as I angled its honed point at the hollow of some poor female’s throat. Milky eyes bored into mine when I braced my foot on the spade’s tread, shifting my weight, bearing down until the blade sliced through her slender neck, tearing flesh and crunching bone. Her lips parted on a gasp, or perhaps I imagined that flicker of awareness before I snuffed her final remnants. Gods knew I hoped it was only guilt picking at scabs on my weary conscious.
The death of even one innocent would break me, if any scrap of the old Kaidi remained.
Tossing the spade aside, I wiped sweat from my brow and bent to check her pockets, finding them as empty as my own. No coin meant going another day without food. Not that I had much of an appetite after this, but I couldn’t live on stale water for much longer. Soon I would need a hot meal and a safe place to rest, if one still existed.
Gaze skimming the grassy field littered with the corpses of plague victims, I had my doubts.
Exhaustion bore me to my knees. I was too tired to wince when one knee cracked on a loose stone. My chin hit my chest, and my eyes shut. The pulse of pain, of hunger, of regret, lulled me.
One minute lapsed, then two. Any moment I would rise. Any time now…
The press of cold metal against my throat shocked me awake.
“I’ll have your name, female.” The booming masculine voice made my head throb.
“I hope not.” I ignored the blade and rubbed my eyes clear. “It would sound silly on a male.”
More pressure made breathing without cutting my neck difficult. “Tell me your name.”
I rolled around a few choices before saying, “Imani.”
His grunt called me on my lie. Interesting. Usually they couldn’t tell.
He nudged me with his boot. “What’s your purpose here?”
I shrugged. “The same as my purpose elsewhere, I imagine.”
Grasping my upper arm, he hauled me onto my feet and spun me to face him. I stifled a gasp when I met the pitch-black eyes informing me that I had run afoul of a Mimetidae warrior. I had tracked the plague to Cathis, the Mimetidae’s clan home, but had I been in my right mind, a state I barely recalled these days, I would have avoided their borders and continued on to the next city.
Contrary to my actions these past few months, I did not have a death wish.
Thinly leashed anger radiated through his tightened fingers. “You play a dangerous game.”
“You have no idea,” I murmured, while measuring the distance from here to the forest.
His gaze trailed after mine. “You won’t make it.”
“So you say.” I struggled until he released me, then I hit the ground like a sack of stones.
“If you can’t stand, then you can’t run.” He sheathed his weapon, turning to appraise my long night’s work by the dawn’s soft glow. “Care to explain this?” He gestured toward the headless corpse. “Or those?”
I forced myself to count victims—sixteen females and one male for good measure.
My laugh was rusty. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
His brow creased. “Try me.”
I fisted a palm’s worth of loose dirt. “Well, it’s like this…”
When he folded his arms over his chest, away from that lovely sword of his, and inclined his head, waiting, I exhaled hard and prayed the gods gave my feet wings. His frown cut deeper, lips parting on his next demand, when I gathered my nerve and flung the contents of my hand at him.
“What in the gods’ names—” He staggered back, blinking in surprise.
Shoving to my feet, I bolted past him, snagged my spade and ran for the safety of the trees. His bellow of rage made my heart race and chest tighten. Those were not the sounds of a happy male. No, they were the sounds of a male preparing to rend a female in two, if he could catch her.
Scenery blurred as I ran harder, faster, until my foot rung a hole and I tumbled onto all fours. I was halfway to standing when the male burst into the small clearing, head lifted, nostrils flared.
“Move,” he warned, “and we’ll see if your head comes off as easy as theirs did.”
Turning my head slowly, I noticed his arms were out, but his sword remained tethered at his hip as if he didn’t want to harm me. Pity. Once I might have
appreciated his misguided chivalry. Now I saw it for the weakness it was. I was female, but I was not soft. Not my heart, and not my arms. They were lean and muscled from digging up graves, as firm and cold as the ground where I had buried my mother, my sisters and cousins, all the members of my family but one, my uncle.
I did this for them, as practice for the day we met again and I added their names to my tally.
Can’t kill what’s already dead, I reminded myself.
While my thoughts churned over each other, the male took a step, and I tightened my grip on the spade. Before he got near enough to lay his hands on me, I twisted on my side and swung my weapon. The flat side cracked against his jaw, popping his neck as his head twisted. In a daze, he faced me, eyes whirling. Staggering back, he smeared the blood welling from his smashed cheek.
Scrambling out of his reach, I clawed my way upright, and a heartbeat later I was running. I barely dared to hope I might escape him unscathed when an impact knocked me against a tree. Ears ringing, I clamped my head between my hands and focused on not vomiting as the world lurched beneath me. A second hit from behind sent me tumbling onto the ground and burst my lip.
I wheezed when my attacker collapsed across my back, crushing the air from my lungs.
“I can’t…breathe.” My sight tunneled, turning hazy around the edges.
His low growl rumbled against my spine. “That makes two of us.”
Strong hands grasped my shoulders and flipped me onto my back. Before I brought my knee up to greet his tender parts, the male straddled my legs and sat on my shins, pinning me in place. His fingers dug into my collarbones, and the twist of his lips told me that if he had another set of hands, my wrists would be shackled too. Luckily for me, he didn’t, and I knew what I had to do.
Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection Page 60
