Juden killed Isla. Hadn’t he? Milo shook his head to clear the grainy memory that he lapsed into when the elixir took over. His eyes shifted rapidly, as he tried to recall the exact incidents leading up to his discovery of the body. There were voids he couldn’t fill of what happened that night.
When he heard the faint sound of the door opening, his attention shifted in that direction and he struggled to focus through the blurry sight and concentrate on the feminine silhouette standing there. He knew she would arrive. She always knew when to come to him.
If he thought about her uncanny sixth sense to know things, she shouldn’t. His needs, desires, and every move, he often set the unsettling niggling aside because of the comfort she provided. Though minimal, he eagerly latched onto what she offered because he was desperate for the ounce of attention she lavished on him. Her motives questionable, he set his reservations aside and beckoned her forward. He needed her touch, warmth, and the feel of her fingers caress his battered body. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and knew it made him susceptible to ignore why she bothered with him or why he foolishly played the patsy.
Her fingers were slender and hot against his limp manhood. She whispered in his ear, wicked and lewd enticements stroked his ego, as her hand did his cock. “Tonight will be different. You are growing stronger each day.”
Her words were encouraging. He had little hope. He ran his fingers through her hair absentmindedly, going through the motions thinking what harm would it do, as he fisted strands of hair and pushed her head down between his thighs.
She looked up at him, eyes wide and bright with mischief softened her features and in the dim light, she looked younger than her years. “I believe Oslei will answer our prayers tonight,” she hummed against his cock.
He didn’t respond. He never did. They played their little games. He closed his eyes and held taunt in anticipation of feeling supple lips enclose around his flaccid penis. Squeezing his eyes tight, chanting feverishly, as her head began to bob up and down vigorously.
The twig of response both surprised and elated Milo. He felt himself fill, rise half-mast, and began to respond to the moist heat suckled against his manhood. With exuberance he normally didn’t feel, he gripped her waist, lifted, and forced her to spread her thighs around his waist. This wasn’t love, more so compartmentalized consummation. He didn’t bother with trying to undress her. He bunched the gown around her waist and shoved the drawers aside. “Hurry,” he said between clenched teeth. Squeezing his semi-inflated penis, he tried to shove inside her.
He felt her dryness and didn’t care. He pushed…pushed again, desperate to cram his cock into the tightness that thwarted his entry. This wasn’t going to work. Without a word he put two fingers inside her, stroked, and probed to soften the resisting flesh.
“Do it,” she said roughly.
This time when he tried to enter her, she was open, ready, and he managed to get the tip to penetrate. He arched hard ignoring the biting pain that shot through his torso…an irrelevant nuisance compared to the feel of the entrance give and heat touch his cockhead. The brief sensation made him shudder violently—it was over before it began. “Nooo. Damnit,” he cursed.
She slithered against his body, framed his face, and hummed over his lips. “The next time it will be longer. Better.” She sounded hopeful.
Viciously, he shoved her away. “Don’t offer empty promises to ease your conscience for what you did to me. This,” he swiped his arm through the air. “It’s your fault. You have made me a mockery of a man, and now you think to pacify me like I’m some fool.”
“I don’t understand?” she whispered.
Milo laughed haughtily, a sinister, mocking sound. “Oh, you understand, Saxby. If not, you will when all is said and done.”
* * * *
He called her Saxby.
She was the biggest fool.
She had only herself to blame. She thought standing in the doorway listening to Milo snoring, she was gone and forgotten to him. She struggled through the anger that dammed inside her and threatened to burst, as uncontrollable rage built to a cusp. She stood immobilized, unable to function, until a sliver of reality slipped through and forced its way into her head pulling her back to reality.
“Maybe you will forget precious Saxby when she dies,” she said in a hushed, flat tone.
Chapter 27
The two men stopped at the embankment of the River Gorge. One unfastened his pants and pulled out his cock. He urinated, sending a stream into the frigid wind. He glanced over his shoulder at his young cohort, and said, “‘Tis cold enough to freeze my piss, eh?” he chortled.
Lawry paid his partner no attention. He remained fixated on the murky water, crashing waves that rolled inland and soaked his boots before retreating. He narrowed his eyes to get a better view and watched as the boatmaster hunched over the rails, drive the heavy paddle beneath the surface, fighting the strong current, making his way toward land.
The makeshift boat, wood logs anchored together by thick oiled rope, bobbed, dipped, and swayed as the raft cut through the fog, disappeared in the ghostly swirl, before it reappeared like a shadowy apparition and floated inland.
“I do not feel right about delaying, Hilfen. Maynard will be angry when he finds out why we did.”
Hilfen fastened his pants. He turned to Lawry, snorted, and then shook his head in disgust as if he thought Lawry stupid. “That is if you are foolish enough to tell Maynard the truth,” he said, spitting. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We tell Maynard a lie. I will think of something. You keep your damned mouth shut and we both save our arses.”
“I never should have let you persuade me to go to Dandelion.” Lawry seemed worried.
Hilfen scoffed. “If we listened to you, we would have missed fucking the sweetest cunt this side of the Northern Territory, eh? Hair like cornsilk, skin smooth as a babe’s bottom, and breast I’d be willing to suckle until death.” He snickered. “She smelled nice too. Or didn’t you notice? A damn change from the whores who skin reminds me of pigs and smell like they bathe on odd days only, if at all. I certainly think it was worth it,” he said, and patted then rubbed his arms to ward off the chill. He looked out to sea, and muttered, “The bastard dallies. I think the bloody beast knows we wait, and intentionally slows his arrival.”
“‘Tis the cold and the water have started to harden.”
“More likely the bastard wants us to freeze our arses off. Curse them bloodsucking bastards, I say.”
“Well, we have little choice, but to wait. We are at the boatmaster’s mercy, as he is the only one foolish enough to travel the River Gorge out of season. Unless you want to risk going through Ciperian territory?”
Hilfen shivered. “Eh, you think I’m a fool?”
“Just a suggestion,” Lawry muttered.
“Well, stow the ridiculous idea. I hear the Ciperian’s consider a human’s tongue a delicacy. No, thank you. We wait. He will get here soon enough.” He motioned to the drifting raft. “He brings his own, no doubt. Probably, to feast for the winter, grow fat on some unsuspecting human being. The thirsty bloodsuckers,” he slurred, massaging the hilt of his sword.
“From this distance the riders appear to be paupers. They probably come to peddle their merchandise and line their pockets to survive the winter.”
“How can you tell from this distance? Regardless, I don’t intend to turn my back on the bloodsuckers.”
“If they are farmers their horses look prime,” Lawry said, able to see well, now the boat came into sight.
The comment seemed to catch Hilfen’s attention. He craned his neck, scanned the passengers, and then the stock, as the boatmaster maneuvered the raft closer. “The wait may be worth it after all, eh? We have to ride hard and fast to catch up to Maynard. A fresh mount would gain us time.”
Lawry looked at Hilfen disgruntled. “We stay our course. We are not here to pick a battle with the variants. It will only delay us fur
ther.”
Hilfen sneered. “I do not fear the leeches,” he boasted.
The boatmaster stretched and swished the paddle end around until it caught onto something. He shuffled to the back of the raft, pulled a thick coil of rope free from around a pole, and tossed it into the water. The block at the end made a splash, sunk beneath the surface, and anchored the boat.
Hilfen simmered as the old man moved in slow motion, secured the raft, before he looked up, and motioned them forward. “‘Tis about damned time,” he groused.
The old man’s voice thick, said, “The water grows dangerous. The sea is restless, signaling the beginning of winter.”
“I don’t care to hear your excuses, old man. Don’t dally taking us across the border or you will feel the prick of my sword. Hilfen glowered at the passengers as they started to embark, seemingly unhurried, they moved to leisurely for his liking. “You there,” he said, “pick up the pace.” He pointed at the man standing closest to him.
“Patience is a virtue.”
Hilfen glared at the man. He rubbed the base of his sword. “Perhaps you move quicker if my sword prods you, eh?”
The man stepped forward onto land ignoring the chilly water and seeped into his boots. Three others followed in his wake, as he made his way to dry ground. He walked toward Hilfen, and then pushed pass him as if he was inconsequential and not worth a second glance.
Hilfen turned red with resentment. He blustered, “Is it manners you need taught?”
The man froze in mid-stride. He turned around slowly and eyed Hilfen with a cold countenance, a clear warning. He spoke in a low voice with hints of dangerous undertones. “No, but if it were the case I doubt someone as uncivilized as you could teach me anything.”
Amongst Maynard’s band of renegades, Hilfen had the most brawn and less brains to know when he bit off more than he could handle. Lawry tried to stop him, and was shoved aside. He stomped over to the man, breathed into his face, saying, “I should cut you down like a slug for the insult,” he hissed.
The man smirked. He paid Hilfen little heed, which further offended him.
Lawry tried to contain the situation. “Let it go, Hilfen. ‘Tis time to leave.”
The man motioned to Lawry. “Your friend is wise. I would heed his advice if I were you.”
Hilfen reached to unsheathe his sword—his eyes flared when he found a slender blade with a hooked edge pressed into his throat before he could clear his blade—he gulped, feeling the prick of the knife pierce his throat.
The man removed his hood and revealed cinnamon-brown eyes icy in nature, implacable. “You know if ‘tis one thing I detest is stupidity.”
“You should learn to manage your temper, Tavian,” Juden said, grinning. He stepped into the clearing beside his brother and glanced at the stranger. The familiar scent of him invaded his nostrils and brought back a flood of memories, the day of Keaton’s death surfaced strong and rampant.
“You get around, don’t you? Dandelion…Wraith Forest where an innocent child died,” Juden said to Hilfen.
When he didn’t respond, Tavian pressed the blade further to coerce an answer. Hilfen remained mute, glared at Juden with ire. “Cut my throat, heathen. I don’t answer to your kind. I’d rather die.”
Tavian’s retaliation was swift. He stepped back and sheathed his blade before Hilfen’s body hit the ground.
Juden looked at Lawry, and said, “What about you? Are you an idiot like your friend? Were you recently at Dandelion?” He asked, already knowing. The man’s odor was ripe. Saxby’s scent remained strong and invaded his nostrils. Then there was the telling unique smell of the man. One of the scents present the day he revisited the location where Keaton was slain, making a flood of memories overwhelm Juden leaving him reeling in rage.
He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around the man’s throat and squeeze the life out of him. He needed to know. “Answer my questions.” His tone contained, deceptively calm, shielded the force it took to throttle the ferocity building inside him.
“I was there at Dandelion.” Lawry glanced at Hilfen’s body and watched Juden closely. “Why do you ask? No injustice was done,” he said, and his eyes flashed briefly as if a sudden revelation popped inside his head. “The lady was your wife?”
Juden ignored his inquiry. “What about the day the Kelts attacked and my son was taken from me?”
Lawry’s eyes widened to twice the normal size.
“He is one of the infidels who murdered my nephew, Juden?” Tavian said in a tone smooth as ice and twice as frigid.
“A pawn in the offense. He doesn’t get a pass though.” Juden’s point was clear.
“The Black Bastard,” Lawry uttered.
“To you, its Sovereign VanZandt,” Tavian corrected.
“Who gave the orders to kill my son?”
Lawry started shaking his head back and forth. Flustered, he tried to speak, stumbled over his words and took a deep breath. He began again, saying, “The child wasn’t to be harmed.”
“My son was murdered.” Hatred dripped from Juden’s tone. “Who are the other bastards?”
“I barely know them. I just met the band and was offered coins—”
“I want the names,” Juden said, slowly.
“He will kill me if I talk.”
Juden moved like a swift undercurrent. Within seconds, he was in Lawry’s face, his hand enclosed around his neck. He squeezed. “Give me the names.”
“The leader is called Maynard. That is all I know. I swear it.”
“He is here, in the Northern Territory?”
Lawry’s eyes bulged. He gasped, struggling against Juden’s hold.
Blasé, Tavian toyed with his blade, saying, “He might be able to answer if you release his windpipe, Juden.”
Juden relaxed his hold.
Lawry coughed and sucked in air. “He rides toward Behrhause. I did not realize what they intended until it was too late.” It was a plea for mercy.
“Yet, you remained and watched the ghastly deed without trying to stop it?”
“I had no choice!”
“I beg to differ,” Juden said, coolly. He tightened his grip and flexed his wrist. A crunching sound echoed, and Lawry’s head lolled to the side. Juden tossed him away, stepped back, and scanned his surroundings to ensure there was no other offender present before facing Tavian. “What delayed you? I sent for you days ago.”
A wicked grin surfaced on Tavian’s face. “I’m recently wed, remember? By the way, Shila is greatly displeased with you. I had a difficult time removing myself from her bed. Just so you are aware.”
Juden smirked. “Then I owe your wife my profuse apology, which she will get upon my return.”
“I’m sure she will readily accept it, unlike mine own. I left behind a very upset woman.”
Juden showed one of his rare smiles. He patted Tavian on the back. “It is because you are an oaf and Shila knows it. Thank you for coming.”
“Why would I not?” Tavian motioned to the others he travelled with to come forward. “My brother called for me, ‘tis rare, so I assumed the situation was dire though you didn’t provide any details in your message. It didn’t matter either way. I would have come regardless. What gives?”
“I will brief you while we ride,” Juden said. He took the reign of his horse from one of his men. He started to mount, and turned around to face the men who came with Tavian. He looked them over, squinted, and backtracked to one individual. He practically groaned. “Tell me you did not bring Viola?
Tavian looked disgruntled. “I had no choice. The imp stowed aboard the raft and hide behind some barrels. I was halfway across the River Gorge before she was discovered. I considered turning around, but didn’t want to delay further. I will send her back with one of my men.”
“And leave him at the mercy of Artamine who we both know is probably beside himself with worry about now. If she is returned he will be mercifulness, and demand an explanation. I can’t say your
man will be safe regardless of his explanation.”
Tavian nodded in agreement. “Then she stays?”
Juden wiped his hand down his face in frustration. “Aye, but she is your responsibility. Keep her away from me.”
Tavian chuckled, as if Juden’s comment amused him. “Your encounter with Viola still haunts you, huh?” He laughed.
Juden rolled his eyes at his brother. “She is young, foolish, and impetuous, a dangerous combination for a woman.” Briefly, his thoughts drifted to Saxby, before he dismissed the thought. “Artamine is my confidant, as well as my friend. I would hate to have to kill him, because he hadn’t the will to control his daughter. I mean it, Tavian. Viola is your responsibility.”
“I will ensure she leaves you unscathed,” Tavian jested.
Juden looked at Viola who beamed at him. Her face blushed, eyes bright and wide, and filled with a dreaminess he knew all too well. She held a signature expression of a girl who believed her whimsical belief one day they might wed.
Viola possessed a unique beauty, extremely easy on the eyes with her raven hair, doe-shaped eyes, and slender but curvy frame attracted a lot of attention from the males in his clan, much to Artamine’s distress.
Once he almost succumbed to her allure until he found his mind and realized what the consequences of his actions would mean if he touched her.
Only a foolish man would play with Artamine’s daughter. He had been called rash, not foolish. He had no designs to marry again, Juden thought, ignoring the voice inside his head that suggested otherwise.
Juden shifted uncomfortably as his mind focused on Saxby and what she’d come to mean to him.
Chapter 28
Juden searched the area, watched and listened, before he felt comfortable enough to turn his attention to Tavian. “I sent for you because I need a favor.”
“‘Tis obvious,” Tavian said, scanning the area they passed through.
Juden wanted to get straight to the point. “You know Milo requested I come to Dandelion. He continuously pleaded until I finally decided to oblige him and see what was so damned important. But foremost, I visited the site where Keaton was murdered and picked up the scents of the men who killed my son. The trail led in the direction of the Northern Territory. I decided to go there, delayed to and see what Milo wanted, and then continue to hunt down the bastards.” Juden paused, searched the horizon before continuing his thread of conversation. “Milo request was, ah, unusual. He wanted me to protect Dandelion and his wife from Lord Drackett, possibly others who might encroach on his wife should he die.”
Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 18
