He removed his weight from her body, and offered her a hand. She sat up with his aid. “I was in a white desert with Azer.”
“The Vespa visited you?”
“No. Apparently, I visited them. He said I called him, or whatever. Help me up, please. This stone floor is freezing my ass off.”
Jalomar tugged her to her feet. She wobbled, but he held her steady as she regained her balance. “Did he speak of anything specific?”
Her stomach rolled, and her mouth filled with saliva like it always did before she vomited. Oh yea, he’d shown her something. Someone. “Nope. Nada. I need a nap or something. Where's Breandra and the baby, and Greselda?”
He looked her over, skepticism evident by the way he quirked his lips and raised a single brow as he released her to stand on her own. If he suspected her of lying, he never said so. “You mean your accomplices? I sent the children off to Miori's care. Gressy returned to her duties. Might I inquire what you three were searching for? It appears neither Breandra nor Greselda would break your confidence.”
Ramona made a point to smooth the wrinkles from her pant legs with exaggerated care. The tip of her tongue darted out to lick at the corner of her mouth. “Who said we were looking for anything? Maybe we were just hanging out. You know, girl bonding and stuff.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. So, if you’ll excuse me…” She stepped toward the door. “I’ve got a few things to do.”
His arm linked with hers, and he jerked her back until she was standing in front of him again. “We need to talk, Ramona. It’s inevitable.”
“About what? Everything has been settled. I know who killed Megan. I know Mrs. Steele was a traitor. So, what’s left, Jalo?”
“It is milord, or Lord Jalomar,” he growled into her ear. “Do not make me remind you.”
Ugh. The whole title thing again. Maybe if he wasn’t so adamant about it, she’d concede. But right now, it served her purpose as a means to irritate him the way he irritated her. She yanked her arm, but his grip tightened. “Or what?” she challenged.
His free hand landed a warning swat to her rear. “Or I will treat you like the child you imitate.”
Ramona narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger in his face. “How dare you. You hit me. You really hit me! Some guardian you are. Who's supposed to protect me from you?” She turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
“Aye, I am your guardian. And you will learn to accept it.”
“Let me go,” she demanded through clenched teeth. “You can be my guardian. But don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.”
His body shook with raw laughter. “Why? Does my touch repulse you? Is it because I am the wrong brother? Fate is such a mocking bitch. How many times have you lain awake wishing you were tied to Sandread? His touch excites you, and do not dare to play me false. You may have Breandra fooled into believing your involvement with him is a ruse, but I saw the way you responded to his touch.”
Ramona stomped her foot, and curled her fingers around the air as if it were a throat and made a choking motion. “Really? How many times do we have to go through this?”
“Through what, Ramona? Exactly what are we doing here? Because I have no idea what you want.”
“Did you try asking?”
He blinked rapidly, and then ran a hand through his hair. “Aye. Actually, I have asked you on several occasions.”
“Well, those didn’t count because we were fighting, like now.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Ramona shushed him before he could form a word. “No. Listen to me. Just this once. You’re bossy. You don’t ask anybody to do anything. You tell them what to do. When to do it. And how it needs to be done. You. Do. Not. Ask. Not really. You didn’t ask, you demanded.”
He waggled his brows. “I am the lord here. It’s what I am supposed to do, milady.”
Her head fell back. She sighed dramatically into the air. “Ugh! You’re missing the point, big guy. Does being stubborn come with that title you like shoving down my throat?”
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Does being a prude come with that title of maiden you like ignoring?”
“What?” Ramona scoffed. “I’m not a—” She couldn’t help but burst into laughter mid-denial when she heard Megan’s voice inside her head whispering, “Virgin Queen.” She scrunched her nose. “At worst, I may have prudish tendencies. But you’re still an ass.”
He took a step forward, pressing his lips together as if he were in deep thought. “Hmm. It appears we’re both flawed in some way. I cannot help but think maybe there is something we can do to help one another overcome our obvious drawbacks.”
He took another step toward her, his eyes roaming the length of her body, reminding Ramona of a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. She didn’t very much like being the mouse. Her legs instinctively moved her back. “I gotta go do stuff.”
“Nay. You do not. Your inner prude is taking control, and you’re preparing to run, again.”
Ramona thrust her chin out. “Stop calling me a prude.”
“Stop calling me a jackass.”
“Then what will I call you?”
“I’ll concede if you concede.”
“Fine. But I’m still going to call you Jalo.”
He crossed his arms, a victorious smirk spreading across his face. “Fine, milady. But I suggest you go and get those things you need to do out of the way before I demand more compromises of you.”
Chapter Twenty-four
The early morning dew glistened, coating Dilseacht's garden of various trees and flowers with sparkling crystals. A single tear slipped down Cynthe's cheek. She gazed upon the beauty of the natural world, pondering the amount of time she had left to enjoy such wonders. Her soul ached, feeling her time was nearing expiration. She closed her eyes and imagined a world lush with life. Exotic animals long ago extinct, and mankind at its best thriving beyond expectation. But the present's imagery overrode her imagination.
Nay. That time had been forever lost. Humanity was doomed to die out if it continued on its current course. The human half of herself cried, but the Vespa blood coursing through her veins told her what was to be, was to be.
“Do not weep,” the familiar sound of her love whispered softly into her ear.
“Azer! How long have you been watching me?”
“Long enough to hear your heart breaking, which has in effect broken mine.”
She looked away to conceal her sadness. “It's almost time, Azer. I can feel it. I have waited my entire life for this moment to come. And now, I beg it to be taken away.”
He kneeled before Cynthe. “Look at me,” he said firmly. “I told you long ago, when you were naught but a child, I would do anything to protect you, Cynthe. Anything in this forsaken world. Even if it meant breaking the damned prophesy.”
“Nay. It is my destiny. You cannot erase it, only prolong it. I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me. Or condemn humanity if there is still a chance to save them.”
Azer's eyes glowed and whitened over. “How can I let you die for them? For me? I cannot do it, my sweet Cynthe.”
She smiled warmly, taking in every handsome detail of the face she'd loved for over three decades. His strength resonated in his aura. He was the one thing she wanted to remember when her soul left this world. “Do not fear for me, but fear for our world gone astray. Once our dear Ramona conceives, and Labelle is struck down, all will be right again.”
“This world does not deserve your pureness and sacrifice. Let it burn, Cynthe. Let it burn with all its corruption. And take with it the vile plague of humanity.”
Cynthe stood and placed her hands over Azer's rapidly beating heart. “Promise, my beloved Azer, you will not interfere. Let it be done.”
His eyes returned to their natural azure state. He took her by the hands and kissed each palm with a heavy sigh. “I swear, my love. It will be done as you wish.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Ramona glanced d
own at her wristwatch for the umpteenth time. She’d been walking for nearly two hours, attempting to get Lord Jack…er, Jalomar, out of her brain. Their brief argument in the library left her rattled. Just when she thought they were going to explode and start screaming at each other like always, his whole demeanor changed. He was charming, suspiciously so—and she liked the attention a lot more than she was willing to admit to herself.
A large canopy of trees and dense foliage gave way to miles of barren landscape. She froze as she breached the ring of a ginormous crater. It stretched for miles, farther than Ramona could see. The charred edge reminded her of the time she left the potpie in the oven too long and burnt the crust. She collapsed to her knees. She’d seen this landmark on a map in Jalomar’s library before—the Great Crater—a preservation of her past and all she loved and lost in one devastating moment.
Snapping of twigs directly behind her spurred her to her feet. She turned around to watch as Sandread emerged from the heavy verdure. He came to a stop only an arm’s length away. “Why do I always find you wandering about unsafely, my gem?”
Oh crap. Not again. “Why do I always find you at my ankles slithering around?”
Like the snake he was, his arms slipped around her waist and pulled her into him. Full lips brushed against hers in a promising caress. “I'm drawn to you. Your very being calls out to me.”
Ramona snorted. “My very being thinks you’re an idiot. A jealous idiot, mind you.”
“Jealous? Over what is due and rightfully mine?”
“Maybe you don't deserve it.”
Sandread bared his teeth as if he were a rabid dog. “I don't deserve my birthright? I will tell you who does not deserve anything. That bastard Jalomar. He stole everything that was mine, all because our father had the decency to marry the whore who birthed him.” He shoved her away.
Ramona fell to the ground smack on her rump. “Interesting. You harbor such hatred toward Jalomar's mother, yet you take her sister's side in a war you can't win?”
“Don't try to analyze me.” His normally nonchalant composure returned. “It matters not whose side I choose. The ultimate goal is me. And I will take what is mine.”
Sandread extended an open hand, but Ramona refused it and pushed herself back up and bolted into the forestry before he could detain her again. The thumping of his boots resonated closer by the second as she pushed herself for more speed. Why did she have to wander so far from the castle? Jalo was so going to kill her when…if she made it home safe.
The echo of hooves sent a nauseous knot to her stomach. No way she'd outrun him now. She searched for a ditch, a big ass tree, anything to offer an adequate hiding spot. She recalled the steep hill she’d trudged up on a few minutes ago and made a frantic dash its direction. She barely stopped short of its edge. The pounding of hooves drew ominously closer. Taking a deep breath, she covered her face with her forearms and dropped, allowing gravity to roll her away from danger. Thorns, sticks, and rocks assaulted her; her layers of clothing didn’t protect her from the deep scratches and bruises of the violent descent. When she reached the bottom, she fell off of a slight overhang. Her lungs burned as she struggled to catch a breath. She willed her battered body to move and take cover beneath the moss covered projection. Wiggling between the exposed and rotten roots of the stump above, she held her breath and listened intently for any sign of the intruder.
A tickle on her ankle caused her to buckle her legs. The sensation felt oddly familiar, terrifying. Please don’t be a spider…anything but a spider. She imagined eight tiny, hairy legs creeping up her calf as the prickly sensation moved up. She shook her leg again. “Get the fuck off of me! Oh. God. Please get off of me!” She rolled from the cubby hole and jumped up and down as she swatted at her legs. A pinch on the back of her thigh had her screaming again. “Ouch! Oh! Oh! It bit me! It bit me!”
Ramona's hands fumbled with her belt as panicked fingers ripped at the catch. Once the fastener gave, she stripped her pants away and tossed them aside. She searched her bitten leg for the intruding spider she was certain had just poisoned her. Nothing. Not a sign of the creepy crawler, or a big vicious lump of any kind. What the hell?
She squinted to focus better. A small black spec taunted her. Three swats later, it still hadn’t fallen off dead. She tried to brush it away several more times before giving up. Whatever it was, she was now stuck with it until she made it home. An exaggerated throat clearing startled her, causing her heart to lurch in panicked response. Sandread. Fuck!
Jalomar's anger subsided when he stumbled upon Ramona jumping up and down, screaming hysterically as she smacked at her leg. Not close enough to see the precise cause, he ascertained an insect of sorts was responsible for the entertaining scene. He cleared his throat loudly to announce himself.
Ramona whirled around; wide emerald eyes and flushed cheeks met his scrutiny.
“Oh. My. God. Jalo! I thought you were Sandread. He was chasing me. And then something bit me. I think I've been poisoned. I feel nauseous. It's still attached. And…and I threw my pants somewhere…and…”
“Slow down, Ramona.” He raised a hand to silence her rambling. “Did you say Sandread was here? Are you sure?”
Her bottom lip quivered. She stared blankly ahead. “Yeah. I was just walking, and…just walking.” She nibbled at her bottom lip. “Damn. You're pissed right now, aren’t you? And we were just starting to get along.”
Jalomar drew his sword. He looked her over in one sweep and growled. “You are covered in cuts and bruises. Did he do this to you?”
“No. Yes. No. I rolled down the hill to get away when I heard his horse coming.”
“Quiet,” he told her. The forest was relatively silent, with the exception of a few nearby critters. Sandread had no doubtfully detected Jalomar and his men's approach and rode to safety. He sheathed his weapon.
His men would catch up momentarily to find Ramona a stitch short of naked. It was wicked enough she insisted on wearing male attire, but to be discovered with her lower limbs bare would be scandalous, regardless of her title. Oh, but how he despised having to tell her to cover up. His gaze slid over her voluptuous body. She stood perfectly still, as if promoting his attention. His groin stirred, provoked by the image of taut nipples protruding against the linen of her tunic.
Ramona snapped her fingers. “Hello? Earth to Jalo? You gonna get this damn sucky thing off of me so I can put my pants on now? It's a bit chilly, you know.”
Jalomar shifted his legs in hopes of accommodating his erection. “Aye.” He nodded and dropped to a knee to hide his arousal. “Come here. The trees you're under blocks the light.”
Ramona did as told without an argument, standing with her back to him. Her barely covered buttocks stared him in the face, daring him to nip at a cheek. He barely repressed the urge, along with a telltale moan. Where'd she get such scanty undergarments? It was literally a band with a thin strip. He made a mental note to have more appropriate attire customized for her use. Because if he knew this was what she wore beneath her clothing every day, he'd go mad.
Jalomar examined the offending insect clasped to the back of her thigh, just below the curve of her bum. “Nothing more than a tick.” He thumbed the flat bug, gauging its size. It was just large enough to grasp between his fingers. “Hold still.” He plucked it from her flesh.
Ramona jumped, rubbing the red spot left behind. “Seriously? A tick? Ugh, I so miss the city. This country living is crapola.”
Her comment stung. How could she compare this world, his kingdom, to the calamity of her time? Cities were gone, and the world was better off without them, in his opinion. He'd done extensive reading of the ancient books to know they were nothing more than overpopulated communities with a high level of poverty and disease. A metropolis of poisoned air, crime, and greedy merchants who gouged the tenants for coin. He was done listening to her nonsense today. Jalomar stood and dusted the dirt from his breeches. “Get dressed, milady. My men approach soon. We will
talk about this when we get home.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Azer stood before the large assembly of his fellow Vespians. His ceremonial robes fell gracefully to the floor. He slowly turned his head to each side, making eye contact with each individual present. “I know it is a violation of our written word to reveal and tamper with what the fates have decreed. But alas, the Fiery Maiden has yet to conceive.”
Whispers broke out across the U shaped bar. Shaila, the Hope Mother, raised her slender arm to signal silence. “What Azer speaks is the truth.” She turned to acknowledge Cynthe. “Our beloved Cynthe reports discord between the maiden and her protector.”
Cynthe came forward to stand beside Azer. She waited for Shayla's nod before speaking. “The Lady Ramona is a stubborn woman. I fear her refusal to accept the future and let go of the past blinds her to her full potential. Much the same can be said of the Lord Jalomar. He is unused to being challenged. Although more than willing to accept his fate, he has shown a considerable amount of disdain for the maiden's predicament. I am afraid their union may have been misrepresented in the Sacred Scrolls.”
“Blasphemy!” Bolderis stood and screamed from the center of the U. He was the second oldest Vespa alive, Shaila preceding him by a century. When he spoke, all listened.
Cynthe swallowed a hard lump as he approached the podium. As he passed, Bolderis' shoulder bumped hers. Images of the future leapt out in color—a rarity for her normally grey visions. She witnessed Bolderis writing a letter and placing it inside a book in his room. The scene fast-forwarded what Cynthe believed to be centuries. An unknown male Vespian opened the same book and withdrew the discolored letter. Cynthe focused on reading the words, but with limited foresight, the paper was nothing more than a blurred square. The revelation once again zoomed to another time, although not too distant as the same Vespian male remained, merely older. However, this time, he wasn’t holding a book or document, but a dagger coated with blood. He stood over a bed where a human male lay dead with several stab wounds to the chest. Cynthe gasped as the premonition ended, gaining Azer's attention.
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