What was that supposed to mean?
Asher?
“Stay away from her,” her mother said through clenched teeth.
The man laughed.
“The army killed my husband and my son. I will not let you take her, too.” Her mom held her arms out as if to make herself appear larger, like you’re supposed to do if you encounter a bear in the woods.
“Hate to correct you at a time like this, but only your husband died. Last I heard, your son was still alive.”
Olivia gasped. How was that that possible?
“Whaaat?” Her mother took a staggering step and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Vince is…alive?”
“Yes, he’s one of us. But if you don’t cooperate, you’ll die trying to protect your daughter just like your husband did trying to protect your son.”
“Go, Olivia,” she whispered. “Run.”
The Fixer had left the door to the basement open. Damn it. Where was Asher? She felt a strong pulling sensation in her chest, as if she were a fish on the end of a line and someone was reeling her in.
And then she knew. It was Asher. He was hurt and he needed her.
She lunged at the door, but her mother caught her and held her back. “What happened to him?” she screamed.
“Your boyfriend?” The man smiled, but only the muscles on one side of his face worked. “Dead. Or, I should say, nearly dead. He’s bleeding out downstairs with a severed carotid artery. I give him, oh, about two more minutes.”
She twisted away from her mother and hurled herself toward the door again, arms and legs pumping. She had to get to Asher. The pull was almost unbearable. Much stronger than anything she’d ever felt before.
But this time, the man grabbed her arms and stopped her.
Asher. Oh my God. He’s dying. I need to get to him before it’s too late.
The Fixer was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. Her brain was numb except for the fact that she needed to lay her hands on Asher and heal his wounds. Her arms jerked and her head snapped back.
“Calm the fuck down. I asked you a question. What is he? Former military?”
Olivia couldn’t even think straight. It was her mother who finally answered. “Yes.”
“Thought so. I can spot a soldier a mile away. He put up a decent fight even after I shoved that shard of glass in his neck.”
So he didn’t know Asher was Cascadian. He must not be the target, after all. Olivia was. She had endangered him, not the other way around. The man who was her heart and soul was dying because of her.
“Keep your filthy hands off my daughter.” Her mother was suddenly holding a lead crystal dish, the one her father had kept his stash of Jujubes in when he was alive. She swung, trying to hit the Fixer, but he deflected her easily and flicked her away as if she were a bug. She crumpled on the floor in the kitchen.
“Mom!” Olivia screamed.
Her mother grimaced in pain but waved her off. “I’m…I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”
“Please,” Olivia pleaded, as the man’s fingers dug into the flesh of her arms. She felt her knees buckling. She’d crawl to Asher if she had to. “Let me go to him. I…I can help him.”
“Oh, believe me, I know you can.” His sour breath was hot against her face. She turned away. “That’s why I’m here. You’re a hard one to find, Ms. Crawford. I’ve been tracking you since the explosion downtown, when the army got reports of an unregistered Healer-Talent and couldn’t find you themselves. Or should I call you Olivia Collins? Or maybe Olivia Hoffman? What name are you going by now?”
Collins was the name she’d used at the Grape and Bean. Hoffman was the one she’d used with David. Bastard. He had talked to this guy.
Movement to her right—his left—caught her eye. She didn’t dare shift her gaze to tip him off. It was her mother. She had something else in her hand and was creeping closer. Why couldn’t he see her? Oh, his eye. It was white and milky. He was blind.
As if he knew what she was thinking, he smiled. “So before we go on a little trip, you’re going to heal me. Think you can do that, Olivia?”
“Heal you?” Was that what this was all about? He wanted her to make him whole again? “I…I can’t. Your scars…they’re old. The injuries have already healed.”
“You love playing God, don’t you?” He grabbed her hands, turned her palms up, and looked at them with disgust. “Fucking Healer-Talents. Think you can play with people’s lives, picking and choosing who to help?”
He shoved her away. She stumbled, but didn’t fall.
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” He took a menacing step toward her and pointed to his ruined face. “This happened to me when I was fifteen. Fifteen fucking years old. I knew a girl who was a Healer-Talent too. But unlike you, she planned to join the army when she turned eighteen. My parents pleaded with her to heal me, even offered to pay her, but she refused. Said she was too freaked out to even look at me, let alone touch me and share her healing energy. She must’ve called her army contact, because we were soon paid a visit in the hospital and told to stop harassing her. And that was that.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see that her mother was getting closer. And she was holding something, but Olivia couldn’t risk turning to see what it was.
“I was sent to a camp for special kids where I could learn to deal with my disability. Well, fuck that. And fuck all you Healer-Talents.”
A quick movement. Then a splash and a hiss.
The man screamed.
Her mother had thrown a pan of boiling water on him. The one she’d planned to cook the pasta in. He fell to his knees, clutching his face, and she clocked him over the head with the now empty pot.
Olivia didn’t wait to see more. She scrambled down the stairs to find Asher, lying in a pool of blood.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Asher had never been this tired in his life, every breath a struggle. The air around him was thick and it was like trying to breathe underwater. His eyelids were weighted down, making them impossible to open. Something heavy sat on his chest. He wanted to shove it aside, but he couldn’t move.
A voice. Someone was calling to him. It sounded far away…and sad.
A female? He tried to concentrate on it, but he couldn’t make out the words.
“Speak up,” he tried to say. “I can’t hear you.” But his lips wouldn’t move. With an enormous amount of effort, he was able to make his eyelids flicker open for a moment.
A swirling mist of gray surrounded him and he could make out a few vague shapes.
“Asher, please,” one of the voices called. He really wanted to go to her. He loved her.
Please, what? What did she want from him?
But then another voice called out to him. Another female, from the opposite side. It was much clearer, much easier to understand. “No, come to me, Asher. I’ve been waiting for you. We both have.”
Jenny? Was that her?
He tried to sit up, but that fucking elephant wouldn’t move. Something began to loosen inside him. He could feel it. Hidden tethers were coming undone. He had to get out of this body. It was broken. It couldn’t hold him any longer.
“Yes, that’s it,” Jenny called. “You can do it.”
“Asher, come back to me,” the first voice called.
Olivia?
“I love you, Asher,” she said. “Please come back. We have a whole lifetime to live together.”
A whole lifetime? But it was too late for that. He was too tired. He had to let go. He couldn’t do it anymore.
“The baby, Asher.” Jenny’s voice was loud in his ear. “It’s a girl. She looks just like you.”
He had a daughter? Jenny had been pregnant with a girl?
He coughed. How was that possible? Jenny was…dead.
Something hit his face. Hard.
Why was someone trying to hurt him?
“Leave me alone,” he wanted to say, but he c
ouldn’t get his lips to move.
A burst of warmth raced through his veins like wildfire. An instant shot of something wonderful. Energizing him. Heightening his awareness. It was something he wanted more of. Something he desperately needed.
“Asher! Don’t you fucking die on me.” There was another slap.
“Olivia?” He wasn’t sure if he was talking or thinking.
Jenny was saying something else too, but he couldn’t make out the words. She sounded distant, standing at the end of a long tunnel.
The knots around the tethers were getting tighter now, not loosening. The weight on his chest…it wasn’t an elephant. It was…Olivia. She was trying to keep his soul anchored to his body.
“Goodbye, Jenny,” he called. “I’m not ready yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You sure he’s not going to be standing there, waiting for us to step through the portal?” Alexandra Crawford pulled the tie on her robe tighter. “I really don’t want my future son-in-law to see me naked.”
Olivia laughed. She and Asher weren’t officially engaged yet. There were a few things she needed to accomplish first before that could happen.
“Mom, he’s waiting, but he’s not going to be right there. I promise.”
“And if the lad is, I’ll kick his arse for you, Mrs. Crawford.” Rickert stood behind them, his hands on his hips. There was no mistaking that he was a Cascadian assassin, with that leather kilt and the two long knives affixed to his back.
Asher and Neyla had gone through the portal about an hour ago in order to have clothes and transportation waiting for them when Olivia and her mother stepped through. “It’ll just be Neyla there, along with her friend Petra.”
“I hope there’s not a fanfare or anything. This body isn’t what it used to be.”
Olivia snorted. “So you’re saying that when you were younger, there was fanfare when you were naked?”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “There are some things that are not appropriate for a mother to share with her daughter. Now come on. I’m getting cold standing here. Let’s get on with this. I’m anxious to meet the Cascadian branch of our family.”
When Rickert had first seen Olivia and then her mother with their mismatched eyes, he’d told them of a family in one of southern regions where all the women were born with eyes of different colors. Their village had been the target of several deadly raids by Pacificans decades ago and it was possible that Olivia’s mother had come from there.
“Ready, Mom?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Clasping hands, the two of them stepped up to the tiny alcove. Instantly the rock around them began to hum. The vibration seemed to seep under her skin and travel along her spine. Before she knew it, the wall in front of them was gone…it was now at their backs. And their clothes were gone, too.
Her mother crossed her hands over her breasts, but she didn’t need to. Neyla and a beautiful woman with long black hair were waiting with large blankets to cover them up.
Neyla introduced them to Petra and gave them their clothes, but before Olivia’s mother could take them, Petra dropped to her knees and took the older woman’s hands in hers. “My family and I will forever be in your debt.”
“I don’t understand,” Olivia’s mother said, looking confused.
“The evil man killed in your home was one of those responsible for my beloved brother’s death. We miss Fallon every day, but we can rest now, knowing justice has been served.”
“I…I didn’t do much. I just incapacitated him for a time, giving Olivia time to heal Asher.”
“But it was enough and my family is very grateful. Our home is your home for as long as you wish.”
Olivia pulled on a pair of butter-soft riding breeches, a purple cotton tunic with intricate embroidery at the neckline, and leather boots. “These are beautiful clothes, Neyla. Did you make them?” Rickert had told her that Neyla used to own her own clothing design business.
“Yes, except the boots. We bought those in town. How does everything fit?” She examined both of them with a critical eye.
“Like they were made for me,” Olivia said.
“Me too.” Her mother craned her neck around, admiring the blue sari-like outfit she’d just put on. She turned to Neyla. “And now it’s my turn to thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Neyla said, pride and excitement reflected in her eyes. “I’m glad everything fits.”
“And I’m not talking just about the clothes, although they’re lovely. I’m referring to you using your army contacts to find out what happened to my son.”
“I just hope the army’s fixer wasn’t lying to us,” Olivia said. That was the last thing they needed. To have their hopes raised that Vince might be alive only to be dashed again if they found out he wasn’t.
“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” Neyla said. “Now, I’m sorry to rush everyone, but Rickert will be coming through the portal at any minute. And unless you want to see him naked…” She paused. “Let me rephrase that. No one but me gets to see my man naked, so we need to hurry.”
Petra scoffed. “Will you ever change?”
“What?” Neyla protested. “So I’m still clinging to my non-exhibitionist, Pacifican ways. Big deal.” She turned to Olivia and her mother. “They’re less inhibited over here when it comes to…well…sex. Let’s just say I was a little surprised on my first trip over here. So don’t be surprised if you see—”
“A few cocks and balls?” Asher strode into the antechamber like a rooster strutting into a henhouse. “Everyone decent?”
Olivia just about melted. The man—her man—was gorgeous. He wore a leather kilt and a white linen shirt with a deep V that hung open at the neck, showing the muscular plane of his chest.
As Petra and Neyla doted over her mother, helping her into a cart pulled by two handsome horses with flowing black manes, Asher grabbed Olivia and shoved her against the wall. “I thought you’d never get here.”
“What are you talking about? It was only an hour.”
“But it was too long. I missed you.” His mouth came down hungrily over hers. She reached under his kilt and found he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Two months later
“So you think I’m ready?” Olivia asked.
The woman with the raven-black hair nodded. “Yes, it’s time.”
Olivia retied the strings of her tunic. When she entered the circle, a few people clapped and Conry barked. Neyla and Rickert stood on the far side, his hand on her protruding belly. Petra and her husband were there, along with a few others she’d met. Olivia’s mother had learned she was from the town of Derry’s Folly and had met her biological sister there. Her parents had been killed in the raid when infiltrators had breached a portal, invaded their village, and kidnapped her as an infant sixty-two years ago.
She was there now, which was good, because if she were here with Olivia, she wouldn’t let this happen.
Asher stood on the other side of the ring, a crazy grin on his face. “You don’t have to do this, Olivia. You’ve already proven yourself very capable. And besides, if you stay over here, you’ll be safe. There’s no need for you to become a fighter.”
“No, I want to do this. You didn’t think you could let yourself fall in love with me because you thought I wasn’t capable of defending myself. And frankly, I was pissed that I hadn’t been able to defend myself a little better against that sonofabitch in Mom’s house.”
She did exactly what Mariah had taught her. She’d been practicing every day with the woman who used to be a member of the Taghta Sisterhood, a religious order tasked with protecting and defending sacred relics since before the Obsidian Wars.
Olivia circled to Asher’s left. He was right-handed, so this was his weaker side. He’d be expecting her to attack him here.
She darted left and sure enough, he blocked her. Good. He was thinking he was on to her. This went on a
few more times and then she saw her opportunity. He had let down his guard on the right side.
She darted in again, but this time she went right. Using a move Mariah had shown her, she grabbed his hand, cocked his wrist hard, and brought him to his knees. Several people around the circle clapped and cheered.
“Ahhhhh,” he groaned. “Let go.”
“Do you submit?”
He didn’t answer right away. She twisted harder. “Don’t make me have to heal you,” she said.
“Okay, okay. I submit.”
She didn’t let go. “Good. What else?”
“I’m madly in love with you and want you to be my wife.”
“I know that already, Ash.”
“Then what?”
“Don’t you remember our deal?”
“Um…”
“It’s your turn to be my slave. When you’re not away on a mission, you’ll have to do everything I say, both inside and outside the bedroom.”
“Just say yes, Asher,” Rickert called from the sidelines.
“Pussy,” said a man they called Big Thom.
She twisted harder.
“Of course I agree. Ouch.”
“And…?”
“And I think you’re totally capable of defending yourself. I submit.”
She let go of his hand, dropped to her knees and pushed him onto the ground. “Good,” she said, crawling like a cat on top of him. “Because I want you naked and in our bed in ten minutes. Think you can do that?”
Instead of answering, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to meet him, his lips crashing against hers.
It was a punishing, bruising kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her and making her head spin. Feeling his erection, thick and hard beneath her, she ached to have him inside her.
She almost forgot they had an audience. Almost forgot about her agenda.
She pulled back slightly, breaking their connection. They were both breathing hard, his breath became her breath. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek and one of his thin braids was stuck to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was gorgeous. Absolutely and totally gorgeous.
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