by Bec McMaster
“I’m tired.” She sank into the chair and rested her chin on her knees. “But I’m fine, Eden.”
“Adam....” The healer hesitated. “He told me... Do you need some morning-after tea?”
A bitter brew most goodwives out here knew by rote. An herb that often kept a man’s seed from taking root. Riley flushed. “Please. Just in case.”
Eden rose and slipped toward the bench at the far end of the room. Hundreds of tiny drawers filled the woodwork, and she eased one open, taking out a sachet. “Stay here with him. I’ll go find some boiled water for this to steep.”
Riley nodded and watched as the door closed behind her friend’s slim shape. The quietness of the room draped over her skin. She could barely hear him breathing. Inching closer, she peered at him.
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Don’t die. Don’t make me hate you.” Edging onto the bed, she slid her hand over his, weaving her fingers between his own. His flesh was cool to the touch. Unresponsive. Riley sucked in a sharp breath. His hand had been her anchor in the dark.
Perhaps hers could be his.
Nine
LUC COUGHED, HIS lungs heaving with pain. He could taste old blood on his lips, and the memory of drowning on it suddenly assailed him, making him wrench for the edge of the bed. The world was dark and silent. Alone. He was alone. Panic clenched his gut muscles as pain shot through him.
Shots.
Half a dozen of them, drilling into his chest. A gasp tore from his lips, an almost inarticulate cry of pain and fear as he reached for the bed, tried to ground himself.
“Hush.” Whispered words in the dark. The rich scent of a woman, one he almost didn’t recognize. Perfumed soap clung to her skin, disguising the earthy smell he’d come to know. Riley. Hands trailed over his bare shoulders, and he felt the dip of the bed as she sat on it. Then her arms slid around his neck and he clung to her, his lungs heaving, the panicked rasp of breath slowly calming.
Lucius buried his face in her neck. Not alone. She was there, though he didn’t know where he was, or what the devil had happened.
The smooth stroke of her hand through his hair came, gentle and calming. He clutched at her arm, needing to feel her skin beneath his.
“You’re alive,” Riley whispered, as if afraid to curse him by saying the words louder. Another lingering caress through his hair. “We’re in the infirmary. Eden stitched you up, said your wounds were starting to heal. It’s nearly morning.” Her face lowered, words whispered in his ear. “She said you might be frightened if you woke. They wanted to chain you to the bed, but I didn’t think you’d be a danger.”
His fingers curled around her wrist. Damn him for a fool, for showing any sign of weakness, but she was right. Fear tasted bitter on his tongue, and he hadn’t the energy to drive her away, let alone the will. The pain left him vulnerable, made him crave her touch. Anything but waking alone.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not enough breath to speak. Riley seemed to understand. She eased him back onto the mattress, her hair tangling over his chest as she leaned forward, the silky strands painfully sensitive against his skin. Lucius grabbed for her hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured. “You need to sleep. To heal.” A hesitation came. “I promise I’ll watch over you.”
He clutched her hand tight, rested it against his abdomen. Riley stilled, then slowly lay down, easing her chin onto his shoulder. The heat of her body warmed him, her sweet breath whispering over his bare skin as she curled around him from behind.
“I’m angry with you,” she said. “That’s twice you’ve threatened to claw me. Twice I’ve forgiven you. No more, you understand?”
Lucius turned his head toward her. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the slits of moonlight that peeked through the curtains. It washed over her hair and skin, turning it silver. He could just make out the angry glint in her dark eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he rasped, “Tomorrow. Talk... tomorrow.”
Blessedly, she fell silent, but that steely glint in her eyes didn’t soften. “Tomorrow,” she replied. Her fingers curled into his and she sighed, relaxing against his shoulder. “Thank God, there’ll be a tomorrow.”
* * *
The curtains opened with a jerk. Riley sat up sharply, flinching at the sudden light. Eden shot her a prim look, lips thinned. “Adam’s on his way.” A pointed look. “Maybe you’d best straighten up.”
Looking down, Riley saw the indentation on the sheets where she’d lain, and the way her fingers were still clasped with Wade’s.
“He woke,” she said, feeling as though she owed someone an explanation. “You were right. He was frightened.”
Easing off the bed, she scraped her imprint off the bed and straightened the sheet over Wade’s bare hips. That done, she turned her attention to her hair, finger-combing out the snarls and straightening her shirt.
“Damn it, Riley,” Eden murmured, stalking past. “What are you doing?”
I don’t know.
She turned away just as the door banged open; McClain stepped through, followed by a pair of his men. His expression raked over her, missing nothing, she was sure. Those smoky green eyes hardened, and he gestured sharply. “Is he out of danger?”
Eden checked his pulse and breathing. Wade murmured sleepily, reaching out for something. Her hand, Riley thought guiltily.
“His signs are good.”
“Then we move him.” McClain nodded as if the matter was decided. “He can’t stay here. He’s too dangerous, and I’m not going to have him take out his vengeance on either of you.”
“Where are you taking him?” Riley stepped in front of him.
McClain looked down, barely an inch between them. “There’s a cage in the lab. Eden can monitor him from there.”
“He’s barely lucid,” she snapped. “What makes you think he won’t backslide?”
One hard look that left nothing to be negotiated with. “He’s a warg.”
“He’s not indestructible.”
“He’ll survive. If only to plague me another day.” McClain ignored her and glanced at Eden. “Any questions?”
She shook her head, lips compressed. Not taking sides, damn her.
“Then get him out of here, Jericho. Be gentle, but make sure he’s locked up tight. I want a guard on the room at all times.” Another piercing glare that turned Riley’s spine to ice. “And apart from Eden, no visitors unless I expressly command it.”
Then he strode past and left her fuming behind him.
* * *
He had no right.
Riley tucked her hands under her armpits, stalking through the walled gardens behind the main building. Gravel tracks wound between the garden beds, revealing neat rows of herbs and vegetables. Not a single flower in sight. A few fruit trees offered welcome shade, but the garden was built for a purpose, not for pleasure.
She had a room there, a bare cell with a few of the things Madi had brought with her. The old faded quilt her grandmother had made for her, her clothes and boots, a few books that she’d spent a small fortune acquiring. It only reminded her of what it was not.
Home.
Sighing, Riley ducked under the sprawling greenery of a kumquat tree with its dark, bladed leaves and small, yellow fruit. The shade was a welcome respite from the morning sun. Heat baked the gravel paths, the small wilted herbs. It shimmered off the cobbles and gave a stark haze to the white stucco walls, making them look sun-bleached and bare. Like bone.
What was she going to do? She’d spent the whole night curled against Wade, her fingers interlaced with his. Giving the man comfort.
Christ. She dropped her head into her hands. Who was she fooling? Certainly not herself, and by the look in Eden and McClain’s eyes, not them either.
Why the fascination with a man who’d threatened to claw her up twice now? If she was expecting anything more from him, then she ought to just excise that thought from her head. The only person Wade gave a damn ab
out was Wade. Or even McClain, who he was so desperate to kill. There was no room there for her.
“Are you okay?” The quiet voice took her by surprise.
Riley yanked her head up, sucking in a sharp breath. A young girl stared at her from the path, her white cotton pinafore stained and smothered in dust. Tangles of baby-fine blonde hair curled down her back, and her eyes were as blue as the midday sky, framed by lush, dark lashes.
She’d be a beauty one day. And with that smile creeping over her lips, she’d no doubt break more hearts than she’d keep. A fat little puppy scratched at her side, stifling a yawn.
“I’m fine,” Riley said. She looked around. “Are you supposed to be here?”
The girl shrugged. “Probably not. But Aunt Eden’s busy. She usually keeps an eye on me, but they brought in a warg yesterday. She’s been tending to him.” Her nose screwed up. “Don’t know why. Adam’s only going to have to kill it.”
World-weary words from a girl who couldn’t have been more than ten. Still, that was the way it was out here. Every single family in the Wastelands had lost at least one person to the dangers that stalked them.
Riley eased back on her hands, eyeing the girl. Aunt Eden? The only sibling Eden had was McClain, and she’d never heard of him having a child. Her gaze searched the girl’s face, hunting for signs of him, but there were none. Only eyes the color of a cloudless sky.
Riley frowned then held out her hand. Dirt imprinted her palm, and she shook it off. “Name’s Riley. I’m from Haven.”
The little girl shook her hand solemnly. “I’m Lily.” She settled on the rock garden edge that Riley perched on, her white skirts in the dirt. The puppy leapt up with a yelp, licking at her face, and Lily giggled.
“So....” Riley stretched her feet out. “Won’t your parents be looking for you?”
Just like that, the light went out on the girl’s sunny features. She shook her head. “My mama died. Adam found me a few years ago and took me in.”
“And your father?”
“He died when I was two. The wargs got him.” Her expression tightened, though she gave a careless shrug. “I can’t remember him.”
The puppy sniffed at Riley’s lap, then gave a growl. Riley shifted out of the way, but it followed her, butting its nose against her hands and nibbling. “Hey.”
Lily grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back. “Sit down, Arthur.” She sighed. “I’m not s’posed to have him out.” Big blue eyes looked up, blinding Riley for a moment. “You won’t tell Adam, will you? It’s against the rules. They’re s’posed to be hunting dogs, but Arthur’s the runt of the litter. He’ll never be a hunter.”
“I won’t tell Adam,” Riley replied. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Adam likes his rules, doesn’t he?”
Another sigh. “I like him. He’s good to take me in, but he thinks girls should be clean and pretty. Eden’s trying to teach me to sew.”
“You never know when you might need to stitch something up,” Riley replied.
Lily looked at her as if betrayed.
“Like a gunshot or a knife wound,” she replied. “Maybe a piece of canvas, or Hessian sacking. I used to work in the stables when I was a girl, and knowing how to stitch came in handy.”
Lily’s eyes were wide. “You ever sewn up a knife wound?”
“Nope. I leave that to the experts. Just because I can do it doesn’t mean I should. Doc Rawlins told me I stitch like a drunken sailor. If the patient wanted a scar like a country lane, he’d let me at it.”
Lily laughed. “I don’t like sewing,” she confessed.
“So, what do you like?”
A thoughtful look. Not the type of kid who said the first thing that sprang to mind. “Puppies,” Lily said. “I like working with the dogs. I’m good with them too, but Adam said” —a rueful grin and a roll of the eyes— “that they can be dangerous. They’re bred to hunt a warg down, so I have to stay away from them.”
“Except for Arthur.”
“I sneak him out,” Lily confessed. “Nobody pays me much mind anyway. They’re all busy, and I know how to get around the barracks without anyone seeing me.”
Riley stilled. “What about the examination room?”
“Nobody goes there.” Lily frowned. “There’s nothing there but the warg cage, and the examining table. It’s Eden’s realm.”
“What if I didn’t want Eden to know I was there?”
“Take the keys,” Lily said. “Only Adam and Eden have the master sets, but I know where Eden keeps hers. They’re in her desk.”
Filing that information away for later – and cursing herself for thinking to use a child – Riley straightened. “Why don’t we get something to eat? I’m starved.”
Lily brightened. “Okay.”
Leading the way to the kitchens, the child chattered on about Arthur’s penchant for shoes. “Once, he stole one of Adam’s boots!” she said. “He chewed it beyond recognition, and I had to sneak in once Adam was asleep and steal the other one so he wouldn’t know. So he’d think he’d misplaced them—”
With McClain’s hearing, he’d no doubt heard her, but Riley didn’t want to burst Lily’s wishful thinking. And the story made something tighten in her chest. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge McClain? Few men out here took on a child who wasn’t their own, and despite Lily’s chafing at the rules, Riley had the feeling he might look the other way at times.
Smuggling Arthur into the kitchens was easier than expected. Lily looked both ways then hurried across the courtyard to the kitchen’s door. Long tendrils of grapevines clung to the timber support beams that covered the courtyard, creating a leafy haven. Riley tugged one of the grapes from the vine and bit into it. The sour taste made her wince, but she enjoyed the rare treat.
“There won’t be many people about,” Lily told her, easing open the kitchen door. “Most people nap this time of day. Mrs. Divens – the cook – she’ll be in the pantry, but she likes to have a nip of spirits now and then.”
Coolness washed over her as Riley followed her inside. The kitchens were enormous, dominated by a massive hearth on the far end of the wall and a weather-beaten table in the center of the room. The floors were tiled with terracotta, another luxury that reminded her of how different Absolution was to Haven.
From the pantry came the soft sounds of someone snoring. Lily winked, sneaking through the azure beads that shielded the door and snatching a loaf of bread, a wheel of cheese and a slab of cured ham from the hook it hung on. Avoiding the cook’s feet, where she’d tucked them up on a chair, the little girl eased through the beads without disturbing them, then reached for one of the enormous butcher knives in the block.
Riley grabbed it off her in concern, earning a look that indicated that Lily had relegated her to just another overprotective adult. Slicing the ham and cheese, she made a pair of sandwiches for them to eat. Lily grabbed a piece of ham and tossed it to Arthur, who gobbled it up as if scared it would disappear.
“Come on.” Replacing the stolen items in the pantry, Lily grabbed Riley’s hand and led her deeper into the main building. “We’ll go to my room. Nobody will be up there this time of day.”
Aware that she was entering McClain’s private domain, Riley followed reluctantly. Unease itched down her spine, and she looked for him, but Lily was right; the house was silent, its occupants busy elsewhere. The opportunity gave her a chance to observe more about the man.
Like most buildings out west, the rooms were sparsely furnished. There were few trees this side of the Great Divide, so the heavy slabs of furniture must have been shipped west at great cost. A lot of the world's flora had died off during the Darkening, and what was left had mostly come from seeds that either lay dormant or were kept by the survivors.
Embroidered cushions hinted at Eden’s touch. Gauzy white curtains let soft light into the room, softening the stark walls and solid chairs. A fireplace was surrounded by a heap of chairs, and stairs at the back of the room ran up
to the second level. Shelves nailed to the wall were covered in books, another rarity. From the look of the titles, Eden evidently had a taste for the lurid. They were old volumes, no doubt published pre-D.
A pair of heavy boots sat beside the largest chair in the room. It was practically a monstrosity, with a carved chessboard on the table between it and another chair. A bottle of whiskey rested beside it. Definitely McClain’s throne.
Lily dragged her up the stairs. “Come on!” she said urgently. “No food in the rooms! If anyone sees…”
Smiling at the subterfuge, Riley darted through the door into the room Lily had disappeared into. Lily shut it behind her with an emphatic slam, listening intently. Evidently hearing no sign of pursuit, she grinned up at Riley, her sandwich dangling from her fingers.
Arthur took his chance.
“No!” Lily yanked back, but the puppy’s sharp teeth tore most of the sandwich from her fingers. “Arthur, you’re not supposed to take food until I tell you to!” She snatched at a piece of cheese, but Arthur darted under the bed with his prize.
“Damn it,” Lily muttered.
“We can share.” Riley broke her sandwich in half and gave the girl the other piece.
Lily sighed. “He’s only hungry because the other dogs eat all the food first. It’s because he’s the runt.”
“You know a lot about dogs.” Riley took a bite of her sandwich, looking around. Whatever she personally thought of McClain, he’d done a good job in making the little girl feel at home. The narrow bed was painted white, with a pretty pink patchwork quilt, and a wardrobe in the corner was open to reveal a multitude of clothes. A shelf over the bed held a variety of dolls and toys.
Lily busied herself with the sandwich, tucking it between her teeth to keep her hands free as she swept a bunch of toys off the bed. Taking it out of her mouth, she gestured to the bed. “I spend a lot of time with them. The other kids are usually too busy.” One tanned shoulder shrugged, and she dragged herself up onto the bed.
