He’d been itching for this battle for the past couple of days, from the moment one of the bastards had tried to rape Tarrys. But now that it was upon him, his battle lust had turned to dread. Dread that he wouldn’t be able to keep Tarrys safe.
She might not be controlled at the moment, but he had no confidence she’d remain free if they caught her again. She’d told him that the first thing the Esri did to a newly captured slave was cut off her hair.
He was beginning to suspect the Marceils were like Samson, their power in their locks. And if so, would she lose that power, and her freedom, if her hair was stolen again?
He refused to let that happen.
Yet how was he supposed to keep her safe and at the same time fight two armed, indestructible immortals while hunched over like a hundred-year-old man?
If only he dared kill the bastards. That he could accomplish with fire and the death chant. He’d packed two small flamethrowers and half a dozen lighters for just such a situation.
The problem was, the moment he killed even one, he’d be marked for death with a magical X flashing his whereabouts on every map in Esria. As tempting as it might be to eliminate this pair for eternity, doing so would seal his and Tarrys’s fate. Not his best option.
“He’s calling me,” Tarrys said softly.
Charlie looked at her. “Do I need to tie you?”
“No, but I think I should go to him anyway.”
“Negative.” His hand hooked around her upper arm. “You’re not going anywhere near that bastard.”
She met his gaze, hard determination in her eyes. “It’s a good plan, Charlie. They’ll think I’m controlled, so they won’t be watching for my attack. I might be able to help you.”
“No.”
“Charlie…”
“Have you forgotten you have hair? The first thing they’ll do is chop it off, then you will be controlled. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know.” But the truth was in her eyes.
“I think you do. They’re not touching you, Tarrys.” The thought of what they’d nearly done to her made him insane. “You’re staying behind me.”
She crossed her arms, temper glittering in her eyes. “I thought I was your partner.”
“You are.”
Leaning forward until they were eye to eye, her stance was aggressive enough to heat his blood, and not with temper. Until she clapped her hands together an inch from his nose, making him jerk back and bump his head on the ceiling, dammit.
“Get your priorities straight, Charlie. You must get by those two Esri without killing them if you want to save your world. I’m not asking you to leave me behind. I’m demanding you use what may be your only advantage in this fight—the fact that they think they control me…and don’t.”
“They may know you’re not controlled the moment they see that hair.”
“That’s a chance we have to take.”
Clearly she didn’t get it. He gripped her head between his hands and leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose.
“They’ll try to rape you.”
“So? It’s not like human rape. They won’t hurt me.”
“How do you know that? They’re more than capable of hurting you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll heal.” Her hands slid to his unshaven face, her expression softening. “You’re a fine man, Charlie. It’s in your nature to protect the weak. But I’m not weak. I’m a weapon that might give you the advantage you need to win this battle.”
He stared into her eyes, drowned in the depths of them, and knew from the strength he saw in them that she spoke the truth.
“Charlie, if you lose, if they kill you, what do you think I’ll be facing then?”
She was right. Everything she said was right. Yet putting her in danger went against every instinct he possessed. Then again, he’d be right behind her. They wouldn’t get their pants untied before he beat the crap out of them.
“All right.”
Satisfaction lit Tarrys’s eyes and she nodded, sure and fearless as she released him and stepped back. “Break their bones. Their necks sometimes take the longest to heal. The more bones you break, the longer they’ll be down. If you can, tie them with your rope. That might slow them more.”
He saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.” And he wasn’t kidding. The woman knew what she was doing. But letting her go to those monsters, letting her walk right into their hands, was going to kill him. Reaching for her, he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to hers, needing to feel her against him one more time. Mine. The word rolled through him, filling him with the fierce need to claim her…to brand her as his.
He finally drew back and slipped a thick lock of hair behind her ear. “Be careful.”
Her eyes searched his, worry swirling in their depths. “You, too. Charlie…” Again, she pressed her palms to his cheek. “They can’t hurt me, no matter what it looks like. Remember that.”
“I’ll try.”
A smile flickered over her features. With a quick roll of her eyes, she turned and ran lightly down the tunnel, away from him.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, giving her a head start. Then, pulse leaping into a hard battle pound, he took off after her. He’d run only a couple of minutes when he heard them.
“Watch your back for the Sitheen,” one of the Esri shouted. “It’s a setup. She’s not controlled.”
Charlie’s blood went cold. They knew.
“What do you mean?” asked a second voice. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting off her hair.”
Jesus.
Charlie’s muscles bunched as he ran full bore down the winding tunnel until finally the passage curved and he could see them. Tarrys struggled to elude capture as one Esri, the one who’d nearly raped her, lunged for her with a knife.
The second Esri faced Charlie, his face long, his gold eyes gleaming with malice. From one long-fingered hand hung a wicked-looking short sword glistening in the crystal’s light. His gaze shifted to Charlie, no surprise evidence in his expression as he pushed past his compatriot to meet Charlie’s headlong attack.
In a single move, Charlie pulled his own knife, steel ringing against steel as he parried blow for blow. Perspiration dampened his brow as he fought the skilled swordsman. Charlie’s only chance of reaching Tarrys lay in disarming the Esri so that he could break his bones.
“You were a fool to enter this world, human. Sitheen,” the Esri sneered, lunging. “I’ll end your life quickly.”
Charlie fought with everything he had, slashing through the Esri’s wrist. The man should have dropped the sword, but the thin line of blood disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared and the Esri only laughed.
Beyond, Tarrys fought her own battle, dodging the knife that would steal that glorious hair of hers and along with it, her freedom.
Dammit. He had to reach her.
The Esri in front of him lunged. Seeing his chance, Charlie used the man’s momentum against him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off balance. In a quick, vicious move, he broke that pale wrist. The Esri’s blade clattered to the floor.
But as Charlie reached out to break the Esri’s neck, he felt the slap of a hand to the back of his head. Pain detonated like a grenade, blasting away his mind, all sound, thought and feeling.
God help him.
He could feel his energy draining, as if the pain were sucking the very life out of him. Real fear swirled, bloodred, through the agony. If he collapsed now, it was over.
Fighting with every last scrap of strength he possessed, Charlie wrenched himself free of the Esri’s hold, hurling himself out of the grip of that agony only to bang his head on the roof of the tunnel as he stumbled backward.
As his spiraling vision cleared, he saw Tarrys and watched with horror as the Esri’s knife swung down, taking a chunk of her scalp. Her scream broke through the roar in his head as blood began to stream down her face.
Fury became a fire in his veins.
&nb
sp; His own Esri attacker had retrieved his short sword and was lunging for him again. With focused savagery, Charlie met him halfway, slashing the sword and several fingers from the immortal’s hand. The Esri yelled, clamping what was left of his bloody appendage around Charlie’s wrist, sending that fiery pain shooting up his arm and into his body to spread through his chest. He could barely breathe, and didn’t care. Only one thing mattered.
Tarrys.
Digging for every ounce of strength he still possessed, he lowered his shoulder to the center of the Esri’s chest and shoved hard, knocking the man back, ramming him into his companion. As he tackled both of the slighter men to the floor, he reached under his tunic and pulled out his small flamethrower.
His brain swam with agony. But as the fire licked out from the flamethrower against the bloody remains of a hand that still gripped him, the words to the death chant came to him in a rush, rolling off his tongue.
The Esri screamed and released him, but it was too late. The fire engulfed both immortal males, immobilizing them in a perfect, if unnatural, arc.
Charlie rolled away, lurching to where Tarrys sagged against the wall, drenched in her own blood. Tears streaked her cheeks, her mouth open as if in a silent scream. A scream that tore through his head.
As he sang the words of the death chant, he grabbed her at the waist and hauled her away from the Esri and away from the fire. Sinking to the ground, he held her against his chest, her mutilated head brushing his chin.
Dear God.
But he continued to chant. His vision spun, his words slurring even as the pain slowly receded from his head to settle in the pit of his heart. As he sank to the floor, Tarrys in his arms, his enemies’ bodies began to sparkle with a thousand iridescent lights, lights that slowly rose, hovering above them for one breathless instant before exploding in the narrow space. As the lights erupted like fireworks, the Esri’s bodies crumbled, their immortal existence ending in a single pile of ash.
“Oh, Charlie,” Tarrys breathed, her voice soft, but strong. “That wasn’t good.”
She turned on his lap to face him, her face bloody, her scalp already almost fully healed. Her hair remained long and untouched except for the single chunk of bald spot halfway between her temple and her crown, a spot the size of an egg.
He gripped her shoulders and stared into her face, disbelieving. “You’re all right?”
“Yes, of course. Are you?”
“You scared the crap out of me.”
She glanced back at the pile of ash. “You killed them.”
“It was them or us.”
She nodded, tears springing to her eyes. With a shudder, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her face against him. Charlie pulled her tight, his hand burrowing into her hair as relief tore through him. He closed his eyes and drank in the feel of her warm weight against his heart. Holding her felt right. Perfect. He was beginning to need her in ways he didn’t understand and didn’t want to contemplate.
“I was so scared,” she murmured against his throat. “I heard you yell. I thought he was going to kill you.”
“He packed a wallop with his hand.”
“Pain?”
“Yeah.” He stroked her head, careful to avoid the wounded patch, though he knew it was fully healed. “Do you still feel your power?”
“I think so. I don’t think he took enough of my hair for me to lose it. Do you want me to call for water?”
“Soon.” He pulled her back against him, not ready to let her go. “I’ve got a death mark,” he said finally, forcing himself to say the words out loud.
“Yes.” Tarrys sighed deeply. “They’ll come for you, of course, but it will take a while. There are no villages in this part of Esria. But they’ll follow you now, as easily as my master followed me.”
He stroked her hair. “What do you think, should we continue through the mountain or try to backtrack out and go over instead?”
“Through. I know I’ve made some mistakes, but I believe it’ll be quicker and safer to stay in the mountain. The Esri aren’t likely to come in after you.”
“They’ll be waiting for me at the entrance.”
“Perhaps, but only if there are travelers nearby, and that isn’t likely. I think we can be out of the mountain in under two weeks and there’s no village that close. The only problem might be…” She pulled back to look at him.
“What?”
Worry lit her eyes. “The king has horses. The royal court is far, but on horseback, they’ll travel much faster. Possibly within that two weeks.”
“It’s going to be close, then.”
“Yes.”
“We’d better get moving.” He ran his thumb down her bloody cheek. “Do you want a bath before we go?”
A small fire lit deep in her eyes. “I don’t think there’s time.”
Charlie smiled wryly. “There’s time if I don’t join you.” He gave her a quick kiss, then lifted her from his lap.
His body rebelled against letting her go, but now wasn’t the time for more intimate pursuits. Besides, he wasn’t ready to make love to her again. Sex with Tarrys was too complicated, too…everything.
The woman thought she was in love with him.
And it didn’t matter that he was starting to have feelings for her—soft, warm, wildly protective feelings.
Charlie Rand didn’t do love.
Chapter 17
Two days later, Tarrys was leading the way through the low, cramped tunnel, lighting the crystals with frequency and impunity. But as she turned yet another corner and slapped her hand against the cool, hard wall, the light flew into darkness.
She stopped abruptly.
“Whoa,” Charlie muttered, bumping into her and gripping her shoulder to keep from knocking her down. “What’s the matter?”
“Do you smell that?”
Charlie pressed against her back, then pulled her behind him. “Water. We found the way out.”
“No, we couldn’t have. We’re deep in the heart of the mountain.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Light more crystal, Charlie.”
Charlie edged forward, slapping his palm against the walls in half a dozen places, but the light couldn’t penetrate the darkness ahead.
Tarrys gripped his waist. “Let me go first. I think I might know where we are.”
“Tell me.” But when she pushed past him, he let her go.
“Better yet, I’ll show you.” Little by little, she eased her way carefully forward, to the very edge of the darkness, until the wall of the tunnel ended abruptly. Sliding her hand around the curve, she pressed, sending the light outward, beyond the tunnel for the first time. Lighting a wondrous sight.
“Holy cow,” Charlie murmured. Joining her, he reached up, lighting the outer wall around the edges of the tunnel in a dozen places, sending light cascading outward in a glorious rainbow to illuminate a huge crystal cavern that, at once, ran far below their cliff-side perch, and soared high above.
A stream ran through the middle, flanked on either side by tall grasses alive with colorful frogs and small birds of pure white.
“Amazing.” Charlie took her hand. “Let’s hope we can find a path down there from here.”
Tarrys edged out to where she could see clearly and quickly spied what appeared to be stairs cut into the crystal. How many Marceils had come through here in the past?
“This way.” She started down the stairs, moving as quickly as she dared, her now bare feet lighting each step along the way.
“How long is this cavern, any idea?” Charlie asked behind her. “The light doesn’t penetrate that far.”
“I don’t know. Miles, I think.”
“Good. We’ll make better time if I can walk upright.”
Tarrys glanced at him. “How well do you run?”
He grinned at her. “Damn well.”
The faster they made it through the mountain, the better their chance of reaching the Forest of Nightmares
before the Esri caught them.
At the base of the stairs, the cavern floor stretched out, smooth and wide, soft ground instead of hard crystal.
“You set the pace,” Charlie told her, and she did, her legs having to work harder to keep up with Charlie’s longer stride.
For more than an hour, they ran, the cavern showing no sign of ending. Finally, Charlie pulled up.
“I need water.”
Tarrys glanced at him, not liking the sudden redness of his face or the perspiration running from his temples. She’d pushed him too hard.
“You should have told me to slow down,” she chided.
He said nothing, just collapsed gracelessly onto his knees beside the stream as if he’d expended his last ounce of energy.
Her heart clenched with the certainty that a healthy Charlie would have been able to keep up that run for hours. Though she’d hoped her newfound power had somehow cured him of the poison, it was clear they hadn’t been that lucky. And they were still days, if not weeks, away from reaching the antidote.
Kneeling beside him, she pressed her palms to the floor, begging the land to provide food, then sat back on her heels, waiting…praying…for a response. To her relief, a fruit tree appeared, as before. Charlie was too busy scooping handfuls of water into his mouth to notice.
Tarrys plucked a pair of fruit and joined him, dangling her feet in the water as she took a bite. As he splashed water on his face and scrubbed his skin with his hands, she looked for signs of mottling. And while she saw none, she knew it could appear at any time.
Charlie shook the water from his hair and glanced at her, eyeing her fruit suspiciously. “It’s black.”
She swallowed the tangy bite. “It’s good,” she countered, and tossed him the second one.
Charlie turned the round globe over in his hand. “Looks rotten.”
Tarrys rolled her eyes. “In your world black might mean rotten. Here it just means black. Eat it.”
With a grimace, he bit into the fruit, made a sound of appreciation and devoured the rest.
Things had changed between them over the past couple of days. The tension and need to drive through the mountain as quickly as possible had obviously worn on Charlie, turning him more moody than she’d seen him. More withdrawn.
A Warrior's Desire (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 12
