Blood Warrior

by Lindsey Piper

  Tallis wanted that. He wanted any attempt at their reconciliation thwarted, because it ran contrary to the figment infecting his mind. But he didn’t want to do so at this woman’s expense—unless it was absolutely necessary. She was still too much a part of the mystery of his dreams and, increasingly, the mystery of his waking hours.

  “If you slap me,” she said, “we’ll be right back at the beginning. You’ll be facing off against one of your own seaxes.”

  “You and what training, goddess? Get moving and think us a way out of this hell.”

  “We stick to the plan.” She layered a blanket in imitation of her sari, using the same pattern of tucks and pleats. “We fly out.”

  “Insane.” He shoved a finger toward the window. “Blizzard.” He shoved the same finger toward Kavya. “And you’re a head case. Forget being Indranan or a mind-witch or whatever. You’re not rational and you’re not stable.”

  “Says you, of all people! Then go. Leave me to Pashkah and see what happens.”

  “I can’t and you know it.” He threw her a spare pair of socks. She quickly stripped her slippers, donned the socks, and shoved the delicate shoes back on her feet. Better than nothing until he could steal her a new pair of shoes. “I’ll have wasted months here in India,” he said. “Worse, I’ll never learn the truth about the last twenty years. Forgive me if I find this topic worth pursuing. I don’t intend to die in a fiery crash before that happens.”

  “So selfish. He will own the Five Clans if he kills me.”

  “Bathatéi. He’s not more powerful than the Giva. He’s as insane as you are, apparently, although with a penchant for chopping off heads. That doesn’t make him invincible.”

  Kavya shut her mouth, but Tallis could practically see the effort she expended to stop arguing. The silence between them was knife-sharp, honed with worry and the threat of danger. Tallis didn’t like it. An enemy should be seen. Faced. Defeated with the whites of the eyes in clear sight as the life drained away. They were being pursued by a phantom. He wouldn’t see Pashkah of Indranan until the man appeared out of thin air to kill him and Kavya both.

  Tallis strapped on his seaxes and threw his pack to Kavya. “It’ll help keep your back warm, at least.”

  “We’re going. To the airfield.”

  “No, you’re going to lead us into the snow and play rabbit. You’ll hide. No more calling out for lost friends like using a ham radio.”

  She shook her head. “He’s nearby. Otherwise there’s no way his voice could be that strong and clear. Either he tracked me himself, or he had help. Doesn’t matter now. I’d never be able to construct an effective disguise with so little time.”

  “Out in the woods, then. You’ll at least be distracted by the snow.”

  “Are you being intentionally thick? He knows I’m here. He’ll only need to search for a woman shivering in the snow, cursing the cold.”

  “That worked so well. As will flying away in a blizzard. How did you gather such a following? I haven’t seen a Dragon-damned thing to say you can take care of yourself, let alone lead hundreds.”

  Eyes blazing, she struck him hard across the cheek. Caressing his face was one thing. Having his head rattled by a woman’s hard slap was another sort of provocation—toward violence rather than sex. “I am the Sun.”

  “You’re a sham. Scared and running. Always. I wonder if that’ll ever change. Maybe I’ve been paying you far too much attention, trying to make sense of a girl’s game of make-believe.” He opened the door and shouted over his shoulder. “You’re not beautiful enough to make it worth the effort, goddess.”

  Kavya’s padded footsteps chased his down the stairs. “And you’re not so charming as you think, you lonayíp bastard. Arrogant. Stubborn—”

  “But not fearless. You want to end up like Nakul? Our bodies broken and burned at the bottom of a chasm, until you’re practically begging Pashkah to come take your head? Just my luck, he’d leave mine intact.”

  “Not before he chewed a chunk of your arm off.”

  “Bring it,” Tallis snarled.

  He stalked through the pub, which was quieter at that late hour. From the small, almost primitive kitchen, he retrieved two loaves of bread, several hard sausages, cheese, and more bottles of water. Kavya stood in the doorway. He spun her, unzipped the pack, and shoved the provisions inside.

  “That’s in case we live to see morning. I’ll be hungry.”

  Kavya glared, which he could clearly see in the strange orange and silver light that emanated from the pub’s main room. Someone had banked the fire, but the snow added a sheen to every surface. “You’re optimistic all of a sudden.”

  “You’re rubbing off on me,” he said dryly. “Or maybe it’s that a man like me has seen worse and survived worse. That I’ll live till morning is a given.”

  “And me?”

  “That depends on your brother and the state of your brain.” He glanced around as if the man might materialize out of the shadows. “I’d ask you to look for him, but I’d rather you stay pissed at me. Mind on me, goddess.”

  He grabbed her upper arm and trudged out into the snow. The cold sucked air from his lungs and replaced it with the burn of ice. Kavya gasped a curse under her breath.

  “Watch it. A woman shivering out in the open, remember? Let’s go back to arguing about airplanes and fiery crashes.”

  To his surprise, Kavya yanked free of his hold and headed . . . south? The best he could figure, with direction as hard to discern as her swiveling moods—and how she made his moods swing from ecstatic to furious with just a few words.

  Hate you.

  “No, you don’t,” she called back through the wind.

  Both of them stopped. She turned. They stared at each other through a snow that blew in flurries like cotton in a fan.

  Tallis shook his head. “Well, well. So much for keeping clear of your tricks.”

  —

  Kavya couldn’t explain it any more than she could look away from accusatory blue eyes made black in the night shadows. A few errant streetlamps made the snow sparkle ominously, but that overhead light only deepened the dark hoods beneath his brows.

  “No tricks.” She twisted her hair into a long rope and shoved it beneath the straps of the pack, out of the way of the wind. “I just think it’s the strongest thought you’ve had since we met. I dare you to say otherwise.”

  “So you can hear psychic shouts now? I have plenty. One of them is keep the fuck out of my mind.”

  She strode toward the airfield. The vehemence of his hatred remained an indelible imprint, like a brand in the folds of her brain. She didn’t want that. She shouldn’t care, but she didn’t want that at all.

  The airfield wasn’t far. She made quick time, with a malevolent ally tailing every step. She could be distracted by him, but she didn’t want to hear his thoughts. Not ever again. He was a Pendray cretin. More than that, he was Tallis. She only just learned to read the truth of his words while cupping his cheeks and hearing the scratch that added emotion to his voice.

  Being able to hear his thoughts was almost a disappointment. He’d be just like every other man.

  But if she didn’t think about Tallis, she’d be assaulted again. Already she could feel the press and prod of a hateful, violent mind bearing down on hers. The moment she lost concentration, she would become her brother’s next victim. So she focused on the man whose bed she could’ve shared but hadn’t. Why hadn’t she?

  It was a moment wasted.

  Illuminated by industrial lights that trailed down the runway, the airfield looked like a grave waiting to be dug. Maybe it was panic driving her actions. Maybe it was the understanding that she’d rather take her chances against the elements than against Pashkah.

  “I’ve faced him before, Kavya,” came Tallis’s call. “I can take him again.”

  “And if he has reinforcements?”

  “You could find out.”

  “I won’t look for him!” She kept up her quick
pace until she reached the hangar.

  Tallis grabbed her hands just as she’d wrapped them around a rusted, icy padlock. “If he’s on his own, or close to it, then we stand our ground. If he has a dozen Black Guardsmen at his back, then we take our fool chances against the storm.”

  “Can you fly?”

  “Now you think to ask?” Unexpectedly, Tallis laughed. The storm had relented enough that she could hear him perfectly over the steady wind. “Yes, I can fly.” His laughing expression melted in a heartbeat. Angered resolve took its place. “But I’m not letting you back in my mind.”

  Kavya stood toe-to-toe. Although she needed to arch her neck to look in his eyes, she didn’t feel the least intimidated. “If I find a way, I won’t need to ask permission and you won’t be able to stop me.”

  He stilled. He touched her chin with frozen fingers. “You really are a witch.”

  She’d never heard such disdain.

  “Lucky for you, I am. I’ll look for him. Just to see which odds are better.”

  “I’m guessing they’re an even split.”

  “Shut up and hold my hands. I need something to physically ground me, in case he’s close enough to assault me. Slap me if you have to. Anything to pull me back to you.”

  “Slapping you will not be a problem.”

  Tallis snatched her hands in his and threaded their fingers. She looked down. Whether by conscious action or accident, he aligned their knuckles in even rows. Mountains and valleys. Perfectly spaced. Perfectly synchronized. Kavya blinked once in disbelief but quickly took the alignment as a sign—of what, she didn’t know, but it was calming and auspicious. That’s all she needed.

  The snow gave way as she reached past her body, drawing on her gift to search for the black force that had been chasing her since the age of twelve. A gray fog swirled around her as if she were being swallowed by quicksand that was no less deadly for its gentleness. Somewhere outside of herself, she felt the solid grip of a man’s hands. They were cold. Hers were cold, too.

  Tallis was too important to let go of. He was the first person she’d ever known who hadn’t treated her like a victim or a deity. No matter that he called her goddess, he challenged her at every turn—good and bad, stubborn or constructive. She liked it. She liked seeing him naked, and she liked that he held her hands.

  The agony of scalding metal slid from the back of her neck to the base of her spice. She cried out, swung out, spun in circles—all with her thoughts. She fought the swirling gray quicksand to find her brother. He stood on the other side of a massive divide that spouted fire.

  It’s what needs to happen, Kavya. He was as sober as she’d ever heard him. The Chasm isn’t fixed. The Dragon has summoned me to be the one to make it whole. Can’t you see? You’re as important to this calling as I am.

  By being murdered.

  By dying, yes.

  She shuddered, then screamed as he lanced another sharp stab down her spinal column. Every nerve sizzled. I’m not going to die by your hand. I swear it.

  The mists evaporated until she peered beyond the physical world to find Pashkah silhouetted against a grouping of evergreens on the outskirts of the village. He seethed with rejection. For a moment he’d been calm, as if made so by a higher power. He’d spoken reverently of the Dragon, but that calm was quickly overpowered by the violence she’d feared since childhood. Around him in the trees gathered more Guardsmen than she could count.

  Too late for that vow, sister. We were children then.

  Pashkah pierced psychic fingers through her skull, as if her brain was being touched, handled, turned over between careless hands. Kavya swallowed a thick glob of bile as she kept from vomiting. It was the worst sort of vertigo.

  The only name—the only word—that would pull her free of hell.

  “Tallis.”

  Warm lips crushed against hers. He tasted of the snow. Strong hands framed her face. Tallis gave her a little shake, then pushed his tongue into her mouth. Kavya wound her forearms around his neck and dragged him closer. She opened her eyes. The snow had salted his silver-flecked hair and the winds had tangled it into a wild mass. He would never be anything but a wild creature, no matter the trappings of his human clothes and world-weary ways. Men with sharp minds became jaded. Men with instincts and a connection to the base power of their animal selves—they thrived, leaving sharp minds behind in favor of sharp claws.

  And sharp teeth.

  He nipped her lower lip. Kavya yipped and pulled sharply away. Their arms, however, were still entwined around wind-chilled bodies.

  “There you are.” His voice was a childish tease, which didn’t obscure the worry deep beneath his usual sarcasm. “Status report, please.”

  “Other side of town. He’s crazier than I thought. At least twenty guards.” She shut her eyes and gripped Tallis harder, stemming another tide of vertigo. “He played with my brain like tossing a ball.”

  “Any Tracker?”

  “Don’t know. Couldn’t tell when I was fighting him off. He . . . Tallis, he’s vicious. He might not need one anymore.” She nodded toward the hangar door. “You going to help me steal a plane? Or a helicopter? Or a Dragon-damned hang glider?”

  “You keep making this more interesting. Is that your real skill?”

  “Hobbies, remember? It certainly isn’t sex.”

  His expression was reward enough for being bold. Blue eyes could burn like fire, even in a white squall. She had proof when Tallis looked at her as if the rest of the world could go to hell, if only the Dragon granted them a night together. “I think you need a new hobby. Soon.”

  She briefly touched his face. They had time for nothing more than an exchange of heat from skin to chilled skin. “Don’t you know? I already have my eye on one. Extreme mountain aviation.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  A prickle of urgency climbed the hairs along Tallis’s forearms. He could’ve attributed the sensation to yet another spray of snow and lick of wind. With Kavya at his side, however, that wasn’t likely. Her gift was beyond his comprehension and beyond his senses—or it should’ve been. Instead he’d known when her distress had reached its height, when he’d needed to drag her back to the physical.

  When he’d needed to kiss her.

  That was becoming more frequent.

  But this was trouble. Pashkah wasn’t up the pass somewhere, creeping through the white-out conditions of the Valley of the Gods. The man was single-minded. There would be no broken-down buses and feeling through the snow for an inn. Not for Pashkah.

  Tallis used to think of himself as a professional of sorts. He had a job to do, no matter that his occupation paid nothing. Its benefits package included ostracizing him from each of the Five Clans, as well as occasional visits from a feminine entity that seduced him into thinking the sacrifices were worthwhile.

  Yet that odd, misguided professionalism had been a point of pride. He discredited, upended, maimed, and, on occasion, killed. He sliced malfunctioning systems into pieces, at one point believing the Great Dragon actually blessed the deeds, and that the Dragon Kings would eventually thank him for his surgical rage. They’d demonize him, but they’d thank him for doing what no one else could.

  Pashkah seemed to be under that same delusion. It looked more pompous and ridiculous when someone else wore that cloak.

  Besides, Tallis had an ally now.

  She was sexy as hell and even crazier than Tallis. After all, Kavya was the one who barged into a hangar and starting pulling tarps off vehicles. She assessed the machines with what appeared to be an eye for their soundness—not that he believed any vehicle could be considered sound in these conditions. They were sheltered by the hangar, but the storm sounded like a dozen growling bears, each of them with a different grudge.

  He sheathed one of his seaxes and glanced down at the lock he’d split. “I can feel him, can’t I? That . . . pressure? I don’t know what else to call it. In the valley, when people were curious but peaceful
, it was nothing but a friendly tap. Just checking me out. This . . . Bathatéi.”

  Kavya flipped on a glaring overhead fluorescent light. The unnatural brightness bleached her skin and added shadows to the hollows of the cheeks. She rewound her chocolate hair. “It’s not pressure for me. He’s beating me across the back of the skull. Soon you’ll be back to having psychic shocks shoved down your spine.”

  “I didn’t like that,” Tallis said. “Think I’ll pass.”

  “What, go for full berserker from the start?” She nodded to a corner filled with stuffed burlap sacks. “Use it as ballast. If we manage to take off, we’ll need the weight to fight the wind. I’ll find fuel.”

  “So bossy,” he said, doing as she’d commanded. Self-preservation trumped pride. “Besides, a berserker needs to be provoked. Not zero-to-crazy. This is good, though. I feel like we’re making real cultural strides, you and I. One day I can talk to others about the Indranan and their capacity for distraction—”

  She shot him a nasty scowl, although a blush brightened her cheeks.

  “—and you can espouse how sensible the stubborn, uncouth Pendray can be.”

  “Sensible? That’s not the first word I’d choose.”

  “As long as you don’t use it to describe what you’re planning, I don’t care what you do.” He crossed his arms as she opened the door to a battered four-seater Cessna. “I take that back. I care to avoid getting in that thing.”

  “Open the hangar bay and get in. You’re the pilot, remember? Just be prepared to listen to my navigation very, very well.”

  The utterly frigid metal of the hangar’s wide sheet metal door stuck to his palms as if coated with glue. He shook free of its unnatural grip and looked down to find a strip of abraded skin across each palm. The wind struck him as it whipped through the open hangar. “It’s amazing you didn’t badger your followers into compliance.”