Maiden of Fire

by Ishabelle Torry

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Milady, you would do well to hope not.” He squeezed her a little tighter.

  So much for being upfront. A rush of spices mixed with fruity alcohol permeated her nose. “Let me go. You’re drunk, you ass. You’re hurting my wrist!”

  He loosened his hold but didn’t let go. “Aye, my petite. I am intoxicated by your presence. Tell me of your lover, Ramona. What does he do to make you quiver with need?”

  Tears filled her eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe she’d been wrong to believe he was her guardian. “I have no lover. I swear. And if I did, it’s none of your business!”

  “I don’t believe you.” His mouth covered hers. He held her immobile by the hairs at the nape of her neck.

  Ramona bit into his bottom lip, drawing blood. She wriggled an arm loose and clawed at his face. “Jalomar! Stop this!” This wasn’t anything like she’d expected. In her dreams, their meeting had been beautiful, promising. She’d foolishly thought to capture those moments in the waking world.

  Jalomar released her instantly, and Ramona lost her balance and fell to the floor, sobbing and gasping for air.

  “Forgive me, milady,” he murmured. “It appears I am indeed too drunk to be in your company. I shall not bother you further.”

  Ramona trembled at his feet. “Jalo?”

  “Seek your bed, mistress. You still have a few days left until full recovery.”

  “What? You’re just going to send me to bed like a child? I thought, I mean…don’t you want me?”

  “Nay, Ramona. Not like this. To bed with you, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Her mind was a jumble-fucked cluster of racing hormones and confusion; her pride lie on the floor in tatters. Fuck him. I don’t care. Ridiculous dreams were the only reason for any attraction she thought she’d felt for him anyway. She pushed herself up and stormed from the library, certain she'd just saved herself some major regret come morning.

  Jalomar kicked the small, brass trashcan beside his desk, sending crumpled papers rolling across the room. By the Vespa! How did one little maid have the ability to strip away every ounce of his self-control? He’d spent a lifetime disciplining and mastering his emotions, maintaining complete control with an unbending will. And then she showed up. As if the summoning of the Fiery Maiden wasn’t damning enough, he was now faced with protecting the most ungrateful, stubborn, and proud woman he’d ever known—and he was falling under her spell.

  He raked a hand through his hair, staring at the open door. As much as he’d like to blame the alcohol for his behavior, he knew himself better. His reaction to Ramona had been spurred by total unadulterated jealousy, by some random dream lover she may or may not have been giving herself to. Guilt prompted him to chase after her and apologize. He dashed out of the door, and managed to catch up with her at the end of the corridor. “Ramona, please wait.”

  She came to a stop, but didn’t turn around. “Have you thought of something else you needed to accuse me of? Need to call me some names? Push me around?”

  Her shaky tone betrayed her tears, hitting him like a boot to the gut. But not as hard as her words. The last thing in the world he ever wanted to do was hurt her physically or emotionally, and in the span of one conversation, he’d managed both. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  She jerked his touch away and whipped around. “What do you want, Jalomar?”

  “I want you to forgive me.”

  Her nostril flared. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

  A smile tugged at his lips when he noticed she was looking everywhere but at him, purposely dodging direct eye contact. Even angry, she was quite the beguiling creature—a rabid creature at this this specific moment, but beautiful nonetheless. He dared to reach for her shoulder again. When she didn’t shrug away, he stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you, milady, for accepting this Lord Jackass’ sincerest apologies. Sometimes he’s a fool when things do not go as he desires. Or when things he desires do not agree with him.”

  Ramona leaned back against his hold, but didn’t try to break it. “I thought you didn’t want me? You just said you didn’t want me in the library.”

  “I said no such thing, my petite. I merely refused to accept your offer in a drunken fit.”

  “And you’re not drunk now?”

  “Oh, aye. I’m completely intoxicated, milady. Which is why you are going to return to your chambers and finish healing before I change my mind.”

  “So you’re sending me to bed, again.” She groaned her frustration. “You make no sense! Are you trying to drive me crazy? Is that your grand scheme? Unleash me on the world when I’m totally insane to destroy your enemies and slay your dragons? Whatever. Let me go, please.”

  He tightened his embrace and lifted her upper body forward. “Nay, my stubborn little maiden. My enemies are my own to destroy, and I will use the dragons to do so before slaying them too, if need be. The only things I want to make insane is your heart, body, and soul. The rest of the world can burn.”

  She met his stare with mouth agape, blinking several times over. Her words were barely louder than a whisper heard from across a room. “Let me go, please.”

  “Not until you kiss me first.”

  “Apparently you’re the crazy one here.”

  “Nay. Not usually so. Except lately, when it comes to you. Now kiss me before you change your mind.”

  She licked at her lips and lowered her eyes to the floor. “I didn’t make up my—”

  He slipped a hand beneath her chin and raised her mouth to his. His lips brushed against hers several times, soft and slow. She parted her lips and gasped; he slipped the tip of his tongue inside her mouth to tease her tongue with gentle strokes. Her body relaxed against his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, raising herself on tiptoes to get closer. When she moaned, Jalomar reluctantly broke the kiss. It couldn’t go any further. Nay. He wouldn’t allow it. When he finally claimed Ramona as his—and he would—it would be because they both wanted something more than sexual gratification. Until she was ready to give him all, he would be nothing more than her guardian. “Off to your chambers, milady, before Greselda catches you out of bed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I’ve got to get out of here!” Ramona plopped down at the foot of the mattress, sending a pile of freshly laundered clothes tumbling to the floor.

  “Because you had a lover’s quarrel?” Megan giggled as she retrieved the fallen clothes and wadded them into a bundle to tuck beneath an arm. “I know you’re new to this notion of having a man around, but Moe, it’s nothing to run from.”

  Ramona rolled her eyes, and allowed herself to fall backward on the bed. “Yes. Because you’re so experienced in relationships. And how did you get that out of everything I just told you? It’s not like that. We definitely aren’t lovers. What part of I hate him are you not understanding? He's an ass!”

  “Ass or not, you want him. Admit it. Why else the hubba hubba sexalicious dreams, and your hot encounter in the library? Hmmm.”

  “You're no help. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a hot encounter as much as a drunken brawl with fondling.”

  Megan winked. “But you let the fondling happen. Just admit it. You’re practically engaged to the barbarian.”

  “Really? And how do you figure that, weirdo?”

  “Hmm, let’s see. Where do I start? How about the minute we were rescued? He was eyeballing you the moment he saw you, despite your smelly, grungy ass. Oh, and then those alien guys appointing him your guardian. Ha! Guardian my butt! You two fuss and fight like you’ve been married thirty years already.”

  “Oh God…please tell me you’re not buying into the whole destiny crap.”

  Megan cocked her head. “How much proof do you need? Look around you, Ramona. We’re living in a castle, countless centuries after an asteroid hit. You yourself have seen the Vespa. And yet you stand here and scoff at the idea
of destiny. You’re taking stubborn to a whole new level of stupid.”

  “Well, pardon me, Oh Wise One. Maybe we can trade places, since you have it all figured out.”

  Megan smiled big. “Wanna know the first thing I’d do if the roles were reversed? I’d climb that mountain of a man you keep going around, and stake my claim. If ya know what I mean.”

  Ramona wrinkled her nose and sighed, making a show of rolling her eyes. “Do you ever think of anything but sex?”

  “Yes. Food. I love food. And dinner is a long time from now. Oh! We should have a picnic! While you spent three days playing Sleeping Beauty, the kiddos and I had time to stroll the village and make new friends. Picnicking is the in-thing this time of year.”

  Ramona rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin between her hands to glare at Meg as she opened the wardrobe and shoved the laundry inside. “Are we twelve?”

  Megan pouted, giving her best puppy dog face. “We can pretend we're twelve if you want. Come on, Moe. Let’s grab Breandra… and Hope… and have a girl’s day out!” She batted her lashes. “Please?”

  “Hope?”

  “Yeah. Breandra named her while you were having X-rated dreams. I like it.”

  Ramona smiled. Hope…the child born of fire and key to saving the world. How fitting. “I like it, too.”

  “So, how about that picnic?”

  She eyed the overstuffed wardrobe. “Is there any pants in there? Please say yes.”

  The Fearsome Four, as Meg had dubbed them, sat on a blanket a few feet from the creek. The sound of the burbling water soothed Hope into a peaceful sleep, who lay swaddled in a wicker basket off to the side. Ramona watched the marshmallow clouds roll by. “It’s beautiful and clear.”

  “What is?” Meg asked.

  “The sky. Have you ever seen the sky in the city so clear? So unpolluted?”

  “Oh damn…it is smog free,” Meg replied. “You know what else is smog free? The view from the top of a mountain.”

  Ramona couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut up, Meg. I’m not having this conversation with you again.”

  Breandra joined in the sky gazing. “I always thought the sky was supposed to be foggy.”

  Megan sighed contently. “It’s amazing how clear things are. Especially when you open your eyes to what’s in front of you.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Ramona agreed, choosing to ignore the underlying meaning in Meg’s words.

  “A beautiful sight to behold.”

  What the hell…

  Breandra screamed and crawled to Hope’s bassinet. She snatched the baby up and backed away into the canvas of the trees.

  Ramona and Megan jumped to their feet. “Sandread,” Ramona acknowledged.

  Sandread bowed. “Maiden.” He glanced at Megan. “And you are?”

  Megan flushed. “Ramona’s BFF. Everyone calls me Meg.”

  He nonchalantly motioned toward the tree line. “You didn’t tell me you had children, Ramona.”

  “I don’t…I mean, I didn’t. What do you want?”

  “I told you I’d come for you.”

  Megan coughed loudly into a fist. “Moe, umm yeah. You not telling me something?”

  Sandread sighed dramatically. He placed a hand over his heart as if he'd been wounded. “My gem! You failed to tell your beautiful friend about me. About us?”

  Ramona shifted. “There is no us. Bad guy…remember?”

  The baby cried. Goddammit. She had to get the kids out of there. “I didn’t plan on seeing you again,” she snapped at Sandread. She turned pleading and apologetic eyes on Megan. “Take the children and go. Don’t question, just go.”

  Ramona waited for Sandread to intervene. Instead, he waved Meg on.

  Megan nodded, slowly backing away to where the kids hid. “I’ll send help,” she promised before disappearing into the dense greenery.

  “I’m not going with you.”

  “Nay, not yet. But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve come to warn you.”

  “About what… you? Duly noted. You're the evil bastard hellbent on ruling the world. Whatever. Now leave.”

  “Evil is defined only by which side you’re looking through.”

  “Okay, then warn me. But I suggest you make it snappy. Megan will be screaming her way through Dilseacht in minutes.”

  “There is a traitor among you.”

  She tilted her head and batted her lashes. “You?”

  He closed the gap between them, pressing their bodies together. “Nay, you already know which side I favor. I do not lie about who I am. It’s one of your own I warn you of.”

  Ramona shoved him, and he released her without incident. “Damn Skippy I know what side you’re on. So why should I believe you? No one helps their enemy.”

  His gaze swept the length of her body. “You are not my adversary, Ramona. You will see that in time. I bid you be careful until I can claim you.”

  Claim me…Pfftt! She turned her back to him. This conversation was so done. He grabbed her arm and twisted her back around. “Let me—” The wind must have stolen her words as his mouth came to rest just above hers. Coherent thoughts ceased as the warmth of Sandread’s breath spanned across her face. “No, this is wrong,” she told herself more than him. “You’re the bad guy.”

  “I don’t have to be, if you chose so.”

  She shook her head, turning away to stare out into the bushes. “Yes. You do. You have to be the bad guy. I mean, you are. Because…”

  He cupped her chin and guided her face back to his. “Because why, Ramona?”

  She bit at her bottom lip, and met his stare with wide eyes. “Because I think I’m kinda seeing your brother.”

  He frowned, his lips forming a single line. “Define this term of seeing.”

  “You know…seeing. As in boyfriend and girlfriend. Or something like that.”

  He laughed, deep and drawn out. “I think I understand your meaning. But do you love him?”

  Her face burned beneath his scrutiny. Or was it because he’d pressed himself further into her, his body making contact in all the right places. “Why does it matter to you?”

  He grinned, and all his wicked intentions made themselves known without words. “It doesn’t. And for that, I ask your forgiveness, my gem.”

  “What are you talk—” Lightning flashed beneath her lids.

  Jalomar knelt beside the corpse. He tucked a strand of blood soaked hair behind her ear. Dull eyes stared out blankly, the shock of death still evident in her frozen expression. He watched her chest for a sign of breath, but none came. Jalomar stood and turned his back to the bloody scene. “Kald!” he shouted.

  Kald emerged from the nearby brush. “I am here, milord. I found naught else. It appears the only trail of blood is hers.”

  “Aye, so it seems. Any news of the children?”

  “The babe is content with the nursemaid. Thankfully too young to even realize she was in danger. But the young lass is disturbed. She has locked herself in her chamber.”

  “To be expected. Can she identify the attacker?”

  “Nay. It happened too quickly. The perpetrator dragged the victim into the bushes, where the death blow was delivered.”

  “Her name was Megan,” Jalomar growled. “Not victim. Not woman. Not anything else but Megan. And she was Ramona’s dearest companion.”

  “Aye, milord.” Kald bowed. “I am sorry for the insensitivity.”

  Jalomar ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault, friend. I am the champion, and I have failed.”

  “Nay, milord. You were tasked to champion the maiden. And as tragic as the death of Megan is, she is not the maiden.”

  “Nay, she was not the maiden, but Ramona’s fate may be the same. Send the Haltons back to Dilseacht to set up an extended perimeter. I want you on the children at all times. Wherever they go, you go, in case the assassin returns. I shall continue the search for Ramona.”

  “Milord,” Kald protested. “I am more suited
to scouring the land at your side.”

  “Aye, you are. You are also the best man I have, and I trust the children’s life in your hands.”

  Kald mumbled his disagreement, but acknowledged his orders with a nod.

  Gus emerged from a thick patch of trees, screaming his excitement as two leashed hounds dragged him along. “Milord! The dogs have a scent!”

  Jalomar chased after Gus as he was being dragged by the leashed dogs. His heart drummed against his ribs, its pace accelerating as he neared a disturbed pile of brush. Leather boots peeked out from beneath a bush, unmoving. “Ramona!”

  Gus released the hounds, and they dove into the brush, their target found. Jalomar raced past the young stable boy and pushed his way through, falling to his knees beside Ramona. He placed a shaky hand to her chest. “She’s alive!” he yelled over his shoulder.

  Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked several times against the sunlight as she tried to focus and sit up. One of the dogs licked at her face. “Do I look like a Milk Bone? Shoo!”

  Jalomar scooped her up in his arms, cradling her as he would a babe, and carried her from the brush.

  “Sandread,” she whispered against his neck.

  He tensed and came to a standstill. “Nay. It is I, Jalomar.”

  “I know who you are. Sandread struck me.”

  “Are you certain?”

  She raised her head and met his gaze, a hint of a smile curling her lips. “As certain as your hand on my butt right now.”

  He grinned and set her down on her feet, although kept a steadying hand on the small of her back. “Pardon, milady.” He waved a footman over. “Bring Lacaux. Spread the word the maiden has been found, and return to Dilseacht.”

  Jalomar mounted Lacaux, and with the aid of the footman, brought Ramona up before him. A streak of crusted blood stained her hair where she’d been struck, and he had to take a calming breath. He recalled a time when he and Sandread had been close. Closer than any other brothers. It seemed a lifetime ago they became enemies overnight. But never did he believe Sandread capable of assaulting a woman…or murdering one. Meg’s lifeless face pierced his vision. Regardless of Ramona’s damning testimony, the crime didn’t match Sandread’s manner.