Blood Warrior dk-2

by Lindsey Piper

“Especially not about that.”

  “So tell me, where have you been hiding it?”

  His grin was slow and sultry, like a cherry-red sun taking its time to rise in the east. “I think it’s time you visit Scotland.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. At my family estate.”

  “But . . . you haven’t been back in twenty years. You’re the Heretic.” She joined him in standing and wrapped her arms around his trim waist. “A straight answer, now. What will it cost you to return there?”

  He exhaled heavily. “All these years, I thought that if I truly wanted to, I could go back. Defend my actions. Stand trial, if I needed to. Face execution. Whatever the punishment, I’d at least be able to say good-bye to my family. At least I’d be home.”

  “Staying away means never having to know for certain.”

  “That’s right.” He retrieved one of his seaxes, then held it nearer to the window. A shaft of light made the steel gleam. He pressed her fingers against a circle in the hilt. “Do you feel where the metal’s raised? It’s a concealed gold inlay that can be removed in emergencies, like how pirates of old wore gold earrings to cover the cost of their burial. It hasn’t been an emergency until now. We have the means to get to Scotland. If you want that sword . . . If you . . .” He shrugged.

  Kavya curled against his side on the bed and stared at the gleaming metal, at how right it looked when Tallis held it with such assurance. “If I what?”

  “If you want my protection. That’s the only reason I’d be willing to return to a place that may never again be home.”

  Yes, she loved him. And yes, he had a plan. She could see it burning out of him as if his golden skin had been lit by a thousand candles. But she needed to hear an answer to the question she could barely form. “Why for me?”

  Tallis didn’t say anything. He only kissed her temple and settled his hand around the back of her neck, with his thumb gently caressing her nape.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Tallis emerged from the taxi and looked out over the barren waste of a long, long valley. There was no end to it, just gray-green grass that faded into the fog-shrouded place where the land met the sea.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Kavya said at his side, her words hushed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  He didn’t want her to like his home. He didn’t want her to get any closer to him than she’d already become. Emerging from the wildness of the Pir Panjal was nothing compared to the bureaucratic and financial nightmare of flying into Edinburgh. Normally Tallis took the slow route. Borders weren’t borders when they were simply a set of coordinates on a map that no one took notice of in an official capacity.

  To fly? By commercial airline? That was completely different. Governments and companies. Security checks and the process of thoroughly exhausting Kavya as she threaded them through human physical and legal barricades. He’d promised that she’d never have to use mind control for selfish reasons—to have that feeling of prostituting herself. But she’d insisted. It was the fastest way to continue their escape from India. His seaxes would still be in Turkey if she hadn’t intervened. They would’ve been detained overnight in Hamburg without her ability to fuzz tiny details into nothing.

  Much like the fog erased the details of a valley he used to know so well.

  They had been together almost exclusively for more than three weeks. They’d been lovers for two of those three. And that was not the mental path to travel if he wanted to put distance between them. His defenses were so depleted. She could own him with a few choice words.

  He had a few choice words of his own.

  Stay away from bloody Scotland.

  Keep running.

  Leave Kavya.

  He never did.

  Because nothing mattered a Dragon damn when he sank into her soft, eager body. Whether she realized the influence she had over him was another matter. She was willing every time. She initiated many of their encounters, and when she hadn’t, she rose to the challenge of meeting him at the edge of passion and violence. A trio of fresh scratch marks across his shoulder had yet to heal.

  And, unexpectedly, as soon as they’d landed in Edinburgh, she had become . . . lighter.

  “You’re smiling again,” he said.

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  Tallis shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his leather jacket. “No. Just wondered why. You don’t seem as wary.”

  Her grin deepened. “If you’d spent most of your life waiting for an intruder to thrust into your mind and play, or for a mad sibling to track you down, wouldn’t it be a relief to be here?” She lifted her chin and aimed her tiger-eyed gaze down the valley. “There isn’t another Indranan for at least six hundred kilometers.”

  “You can tell?”

  “A little. It’s just a guess.” Her brows furrowed. “The Townsends, I think.”

  “In London. Yes, I know of them. They control anything to do with the lives of Dragon Kings in southern England. I spent a lot of time in England before it became too rife with cartel types looking for Cage warriors.” He joined Kavya in looking over the misty, gray-green swoop of land. “Tell me, if you’d been raised here, would fighting in a Cage hold any appeal?”

  “Maybe. If I could be guaranteed a child. But that’s the problem. If I bore children, I’d turn into my mother. Every day we drew nearer to twelve, the more haggard and frantic she became. Mood swings. Terrible rants and screaming fits.”

  Tallis turned in time to see her swallow and push a tear back from her eye. She was smiling more often, which made seeing her cry even more unsettling. He didn’t want to see her cry any more than he wanted to wield a sword on her behalf. None of what he did for Kavya was in obvious service to his own goals: to find out who had poisoned his dreams, and keep that individual from success.

  Reality didn’t alter, however. He’d returned to Scotland because of Kavya.

  He pulled her into his arms. His chin fit just atop her head. “Can you explain it to me?”

  “Remember what I said about how Indranan marry,” she said, her voice muffled by the folds of his jacket. “She and my father were linked. He had to make a choice: go mad right along with her, or sever the connection and try to prevent violence between Pashkah, Baile, and me.”

  “What did he choose?”

  “To break their link of twenty-six years. She was insane within days. Not that it did my father much good either. He just . . . stopped being. Once Baile was dead, Pashkah put his sword to other uses. The blood of more than one family member colors its blade.” She shuddered. “I’d already fled. I hated Pashkah. I hated the Indranan way. But I was glad my parents were out of their misery. In all ways that matter, they died as soon as they’d severed.”

  Tallis regretted that their conversation had taken her from carefree smiles to the darkest possible memories. He should’ve left it alone. On some sick, self-flagellating level, he’d wanted to know if he was the inspiration for her new, relaxed humor. No, she’d been smiling because Scotland was an escape from lunatics, freak snowstorms, and slum alleyways.

  She was weeping because of his questions.

  Leave it alone.

  Leave her alone?

  Impossible. He didn’t want her to cry. He held her tighter and smelled jasmine as her hair tickled his mouth and nose. Their lives had been woven together, probably since the beginning of his dreams. Yet the woman he held was not the source of the visions he now considered nightmares—visions he hadn’t experienced since that last dream by the Beas River.

  That . . . entity had been gone. For weeks.

  Had Kavya driven her away? Or had that been Tallis’s choice, thrusting her out of his subconscious when he’d learned the difference?

  “Here, look.” Tallis gently disengaged and urged her to turn back toward the valley. He stood behind her and crossed his arms around her upper body. She leaned her head back against his chest, which pierced new perforations in the armor of
isolation he’d worn for years. He’d wake up one morning and realize she’d disintegrated the leather and metal and hard, stubborn memories. He didn’t know if his heart sped out of alarm or anticipation.

  “Down there,” he said, pointing toward the end of the valley. “Can you see where the land meets the sea?” He took her hands in his and held them so that her knuckles were perfectly aligned mountain peaks.

  She took a deep breath. “No, I can’t. The fog has it. Don’t tell me you can.”

  “Not at all.” He breathed the mist-laden air. The scent of being home—that was a stronger memory than he’d imagined, whisking him back to the moment when he’d become the Heretic. He concentrated on his story, distracting them both from so much that was wrong. “The place where the land meets the sea is sometimes crisp, defined. On clear days, it’s almost too bright to look at—that beauty. Days like this, however, are considered sacred. The place where the land and sea blend into one is like the end of a rainbow. Neither is stronger than the other. You can’t see it or touch it or even describe it. But it’s there.”

  “Sacred.”

  “And in that mist is a boulder formation that resembles the ancient humans’ fertility goddess, only she bears hallmarks of the Dragon. She’s our interpretation. I know other clans believe the Dragon male, but not us. The boulder is called the Mother. She’s the heart and soul of the Pendray, and what was once my center.” He inhaled another breath of home. “But were we ever satisfied with the center? Of course not. Pendray have been racing toward misty, unreachable places for longer than history. It’s taken us across the water, made us people of hills and waves. Both. Always both.”

  “The beast and the man. Both.”

  Tallis closed his eyes, knowing he had to let her go or he’d pledge himself to more than her safety.

  “We have some walking to do if we want to reach the estate by nightfall.” He shouldered his pack—a new duffel they’d bought in Istanbul, along with clothes more suited to English tourists. Kavya even wore jeans, a loose-fitting cowl-neck sweater, hiking boots, and a red wool coat that reached mid-calf. Zippered pockets on either side of the duffel held his seaxes.

  Kavya followed. She was quiet, as was he, perhaps knowing they’d each said too much. They’d been saying too much for weeks.

  Afternoon bled into twilight. He’d almost hoped he wouldn’t remember the way. That would mean “home” was purged from his mind and his heart, and he could leave when the time came. Instead he was a carrier pigeon on a cross-country flight toward the place of his birth. Many Dragon Kings had abandoned the stately castles that had once been their domain. Yet Tallis’s family was proud, holding on to old traditions to the very end.

  No surprise.

  “There,” he said—the first word he’d spoken in hours. He and Kavya didn’t share thoughts, but they’d become very good at sharing silences. “Do you see it?”

  He pointed to a far hill where shadow rested atop shadow. Even the air there was darker than its environs.

  Castle Clannarah, the local humans had named it. Tallis only knew it as home.

  Kavya’s gasp came before he felt the presence of another being. Tallis swiveled on his heel and found her held at knifepoint by a beautiful woman whose face had been worn weary by the years.

  “Hello, Rill.” His heart beat without any regard for how calm he needed to remain. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Tallis?” Kavya’s eyes widened as the knife against her throat pressed deeper.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, stepping closer, never breaking eye contact with the older woman. “My sister won’t hurt you.”

  —

  Kavya held perfectly still. On the inside, she wondered if Tallis realized the irony. He was trying to save her from the very tactic he’d used against her in the valley encampment. She’d wind up with another couple knife cuts on her neck.

  What welcome should she have expected when returning to the land where Tallis had become the Heretic? Apparently his family was as dangerous as hers. Somewhere deep and unexplored, she’d hoped for better for him.

  “Rill.” As if placating a wolf caught in a trap, Tallis’s voice was calm and low. “I need you to let her go. Look at me. Tell me I’m not your brother.”

  “My brother’s dead.”

  The woman was nearly as tall as Tallis. She’d wrenched Kavya’s arm behind her back at a painful angle. She was incredibly strong. Maybe that was a trait of Pendray women. Kavya was only just learning how little she knew of the Five Clans other than rumor and stereotype. Uniting the Indranan was a noble aim and she intended to see it through. But what of the Dragon Kings as a whole? Their race was dying. How could they discern the cause if they didn’t even know basic truths about each other?

  No matter the deception, and no matter Tallis’s justifiable outrage, what if he really had been in service of a higher power? To unite the Dragon Kings. To solve the mystery of their slow extinction. There was no higher calling, although she knew how much his sacrifices had cost Tallis.

  “I’m not dead.” He held his hands out, devoid of weapons or fists. “Rill, you know I could prove it. Will you promise to let her go if I do?”

  Although her hold didn’t soften, the woman’s posture changed in ways Kavya couldn’t articulate. Using her telepathy, Kavya felt a mental shift—and was gratified that her gift was not barred to every Pendray. The woman had come to the decision that violence could wait, but the minutiae of her physical cues were beyond Kavya’s grasp. She only knew Tallis to that degree. His posture said he was somewhat wary yet confident. His gaze was half amazement, half sorrow.

  Twenty years. A homecoming after twenty years. Kavya’s heart was breaking for him.

  “Prove it, then.” A thick brogue colored the woman’s voice with the lilting rhythm and soft vowels of the Highlands.

  “When I was seven, you saved me from certain annihilation. I’d been so angry with you and Opheena that I hurled a bucket of compost at you both. It was revolting. Every table scrap for three days splattered across the kitchen’s rear wall.” He chuckled at himself—this from the man who’d been practically nonverbal upon their first meeting. He’d lived a step outside of the world back then. Now . . .

  His story turned wistful in a way Kavya had yet to hear from him. “It was sunny out. Midmorning. Mrs. Garrett had finished the morning’s breakfast cleanup. I remember feeling a moment’s satisfaction as you and Feena stood there, covered in scraps. Your expressions were stunned, then livid and ready to do murder. But you decided on the worst punishment imaginable. You said you’d leave it for Father to decide. Feena agreed, practically gleeful.”

  The woman, Rill, had definitely softened. Even the knife blade was not too threatening in its press against Kavya’s flesh. She wondered if she could have overpowered the woman now. Doubtful, with so much strength at the Pendray’s disposal.

  Not that it mattered. She remained still. Her trust in Tallis’s abilities and her eagerness to hear the conclusion of his story trumped all.

  “I ran to my room,” he said. “I knew I was doomed to stable chores for the rest of eternity. No more lessons with my fencing master. I’d only just started, but my training would end with punishment for an ignoble mistake.”

  “Only . . .” Rill stopped herself.

  “Only when Father came home from his rounds, I didn’t hear a thing. No rumble of his big voice through the castle walls. Hours passed. Hours. It was nearly sundown when I dared creep out of my room. You and Feena were watching a movie, both of you clean and dressed as if nothing had happened. You gave me this . . . look. And when I peeked into the kitchen, it was spotless. Every scrap gone, and every smear cleaned. I was seven. I never asked why you’d done it—just took it as a gift and grabbed a hunk of cheese and bread before running back to my room.” He stepped forward, then another step. “After all these years . . . Rill, why did you do it?”

  Rill shoved Kavya away and stood toe-to-toe with Tallis. Her expression
of wariness and hope made Kavya’s chest burn. The woman wanted to believe.

  Despite the noticeable age difference, they looked so much alike. The same tall, lean frame. The same dark hair with silver, although Rill’s reached mid-back. Silver flecks lined the tips of each strand, as if the thick mass was decorated with a hem of lace.

  “We’d teased you mercilessly,” she said quietly. Kavya worked to understand her brogue, which was thick with emotion. “You were so eager to please and impress. Every opportunity. That made it easy to make fun of you. The equivalent of a teacher’s pet, I suppose, and all the jealous classmates. You’d finished your chores early, while Feena and I had stayed late in bed, reading fashion magazines. I still remember the fury on your face, just before you hurled your best shot. Our little berserker. We were in the bathroom, cleaning that rot off us, when Feena broke down. She couldn’t let you take the blame for what we’d prompted. We were downstairs cleaning within a half hour.” A slight smile tipped the woman’s thin lips, almost an exact copy of Tallis’s smile when he was in a sarcastic mood. “Letting you squirm for most of the day, dwelling on what would’ve been your punishment . . . that was satisfying.”

  “I bet it was.”

  He opened his arms. Rill fell into them with a little cry, then said his name over and over. Tallis held on, arms wrapped tight, with his face tucked in her hair. He whispered Pendray words that Kavya wasn’t meant to understand. She would’ve been embarrassed to know what secret words of affection they shared.

  The sight of two siblings holding each other in pure relief and happiness was more than she could take. A stab of envy left her breathless. It was a fairy tale no Indranan would ever believe. She turned away and tightened the sash of her red wool coat. The damp chill of the Highlands wasn’t as biting as the frozen Pir Panjal, but she shivered anyway.

  Glancing over her shoulder, seeing Tallis still holding on to his sister for dear life, she knew it wasn’t just the misty weather that had made her shiver.

  I want to be her.