Her hand came up again and flicked at a strand of hair clinging to her wet cheek. Shuddering, she inched closer. “I…snuck onto the grounds of Rulach Palace.” She dropped her stare to the silk coverlet.
“And?” he prodded gently.
“Shoved a wild Aurion monkey through an open window. It managed to ransack the whole downstairs before they found it gobbling up a bunch of untended pies in the kitchen.”
He buried the laugh threatening to sneak from his chest. Clearing his throat, he struggled to maintain a straight face. “How the devil did you get a hold of a wild monkey?”
“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you.” She brushed her cheek with her sleeve and finally dislodged the stubborn strand of hair. “They caught me on the visio security system. Needless to say, my mother received a summons the same day. She begged Nalia to spare my punishment, but it was ultimately Finian who made a counter offer.”
The contempt in Mara’s voice spoke volumes. He could easily imagine what the counter offer ended up being.
“My mother wasn’t a whore, but she would have done anything to protect me.” Mara watched him closely, apparently gauging his reaction.
“Of course she wasn’t a whore.” He stroked her cheek reassuringly. “Your mother did what she felt necessary.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t good enough for Finian. He didn’t just want my mother’s body—he wanted her completely enslaved to him. So he bonded her with his sex magic.”
A sour taste bloomed in the back of his throat. He dropped his hand from her face and stared at the moisture dampening his fingers. Finian’s despicable behavior shone a glaring spotlight on his own grand scheme to seduce Mara and ultimately free himself. His only comfort was knowing he’d never use his magic to enslave another. The idea sickened him—evidenced by the nausea roiling in his stomach.
“My mother became something worse than an addict. She wept inconsolably each time Finian left her bed. In the end, she couldn’t live without him. She took an entire bottle of pain pills and locked herself in her room. Gideon found her the next morning.”
The grief in Mara’s eyes fisted around Dash’s heart, squeezing until it hurt to breathe. Pushing back his own feelings of guilt, he reached for her. When she slumped against him in weary acceptance, he gently lifted her into his lap. A fierce protectiveness washed over him. The fear she’d displayed when he’d used his magic to free them of the Gromache snare finally made sense.
“You’re afraid of me because of my magic. Because you think I would do to you what Finian did to your mother.” His voice sounded gruff, but he couldn’t stop the raw emotion in his throat. “Sher ’tian, I would never do such a thing to you.”
“I used to think all Maddocs were selfish bastards.” She peeked up at him, her cheeks pale and tracked with silvery tear marks. “But I know better now.”
The tight fist around his heart eased and he leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. A sigh escaped her before she jerked away from him. The rejection knifed through his chest, leaving an icy void.
Lifting his head, he stared at her. “Then why are you pulling away from me like you think I’m about to attack you like some rutting beast?” Stricken that she considered him no better than Finian, he released her and shoved to his feet.
“I’m not.” She scrambled to her knees and gave him a beseeching look. “Dash, this attraction between us is doomed. Nalia made it perfectly clear to me that you’re hands off. As it is, she’d kill me if she knew what’s transpired between us.”
A haze of fury settled over him. At the moment, he’d give anything to wring that bitch fairy queen’s neck. “To do that, she’d have to go through me first. And believe me, it’d be the stupidest thing she’s ever done.”
Worry flashed in Mara’s eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay out of this business between Nalia and me. She’ll only become suspicious.”
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. The thing he was about to say might ultimately bite him in the ass, but he needed to speak it anyway. “Mara, I’ve no intention of returning to Nalia. And I don’t think you should either. In fact, I won’t let you.”
The blood drained from her face, leaving it a white sheet. “But…” Swaying, she dropped back on her rump.
He returned to the bed and cupped her face. “Relax and take a deep breath. This will all work out.”
She knocked his hands away. “No, it won’t. If we don’t return to Rulach, Gideon is good as dead.” Her shoulders jerked and with a sob, she twisted away from him. “I knew this would happen. That you’d cloud my reasoning.”
He frowned. “How the devil am I clouding your reason?”
“You’re a complication I can’t afford,” she said, as if that explained a damn thing. “When this mission is done, we’re done. Completely. It’s the way things have to be.”
The callous statement knifed him in the gut. Twisted cruelly to finish him off. “So that’s it? I fetch Nalia her precious rune and you throw me to the wolves.” Not that he was surprised she didn’t want him in a forever kind of way. She’d made it perfectly clear how she viewed his profession.
All hope of being deemed worthy in her eyes bled from his heart. Numb, he stalked to the balcony door, slid it open and stepped outside. The brisk air slapped him, an ironic reflection of the verbal slap Mara just provided.
He leaned over the railing and stared at the cityscape below. Good gods, I’m an idiot. Aching for a woman who kidnapped me to be another’s pleasure stud. It’d teach him to deny his body sex for too long. Only made his head loony and his heart weak.
Mara’s sandals made a soft scuff behind him. She stopped next to the rail, but he refused to look at her. Why torment himself further?
“My words came out wrong. Hurtful.” She reached out and smoothed her fingers over his jaw. A shiver ran through him and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the fierce longing that roiled inside him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Unable to help himself, he finally looked at her. The naked emotion canvassed on her face threatened to steal his breath.
“If I didn’t have the responsibility of my brother’s life on my shoulders, I would free you without hesitation.” Her fingers crept from his jaw and stroked the back of his neck. “The idea of Nalia touching you makes me physically ill.”
The admission eased like salve over his wounded ego. With some effort, he tipped his mouth into a wry grin. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”
~ * ~
Lunchtime traffic congested the walkways when Dash exited the Crystal Lodge. Tugging his hat low over his brow, he merged with the other pedestrians. Knowing Mara’s secret definitely complicated matters. He could no longer concentrate on his own selfish motives. Which meant he had to find the rune—and soon.
The hotel’s computing network hadn’t coughed up any leads. Not that he’d expected it. Still it would have saved him the necessity of paying a visit to Mordak Lucio—someone he’d just as soon not see. His old fenceman was more trustworthy than most, but his rambling, monotone diatribes on Aurion antiquities was enough to lull anyone into a coma.
Several blocks down, he spied Lucio’s gilt lettered sign waving in the breeze. After a quick look over his shoulder, Dash ducked inside the shop. The musty smell of old books and leather hung heavy in the air. No one occupied the front portion of the shop so he wove past the aisles packed with antique oddities and strolled into the backroom.
Mordak’s bald scalp shone beneath a hovering spotlamp. Dash craned his neck, trying to get a better view of the exquisite Cordigan oil receiving Mordak’s tender loving care. The luscious colors drew Dash, making him salivate. Nothing compared to a Cordigan. A vision of Mara’s perky nipples sprang into his head. Well, almost nothing.
“Dragon’s End, if I’m not mistaken,” Dash said, naming the piece’s title.
“How—?” Mordak lifted his head and blinked behind his illuminated magnifying scope lens. The old man’s eyes tripled in
size. Quite comical considering the magnification involved. “Slap my ass and call me Harry.”
Grinning, Dash sent a pointed look towards the man’s naked scalp. “When’s the last time you checked yourself in a looking glass?”
Mordak patted the top of his head with evident pride before shaking the vacu-pen gripped between his fingers at Dash. “Boy, where the hell have you been?”
“Here and there. Mostly there.”
Mordak grunted before motoring his hover chair from behind the workbench. “Looks like you’ve packed on a few pounds. Told you the sweets would do you in.”
Dash surveyed Mordak’s puny frame. “Compared to you, everyone looks enormous.”
“Did you come here to insult me, or is there a reason for your visit?”
The old man hadn’t changed one bit—enjoyed dishing it out, but grew surly as a wartobeast if you tried parrying his sarcastic quips.
“Actually, yes. I wondered if you might have any information on the Rhyann rune.”
Rheumy eyes regarded him from behind the luminous scope. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one who stole it.”
Dash dragged in a peevish breath. Bloody hell. Mara better appreciate this. “I need some information not readily available. You’re the first person I thought of.” Well, second anyway. But he’d known Jerrick would be a wasted effort.
The hover chair lowered to the floor and Mordak removed his magnifying scope. Fetching a rag from the canvas bag attached to the chair’s arm, he buffed the lens. “Let’s see. It was first discovered in the early nineteen hundreds, during an excavation outside of Prevanahoe. The Prevanak tribe of faes held ownership of it for many years before the royal family of Artronté took it over in—”
Before he officially fell into the dreaded coma, Dash held up his hand. “Fast forwarding to today, might you have any idea who currently owns it?”
Mordak spent several minutes working his jaw in and out while he pondered the question. “No, can’t say I do.”
Disappointment sat like a bitter pill in the back of Dash’s throat. After bidding the old man goodbye and sending the Cordigan oil a final covetous glance, Dash exited the shop. Across the street, he spied a familiar tattoo. Jerrick.
He stared at the back of his brother’s head. Regret and lost hope set anchor in his chest. Just as quick, they were replaced with sizzling fury. If Jerrick hadn’t stolen the damn rune, none of this would be an issue. Nalia wouldn’t have sent Mara after him, and her brother’s life wouldn’t hinge on the return of the Rhyann.
With that thought in mind, Dash darted between the lanes of traffic and stalked after his brother. It wasn’t difficult keeping track of him. Jerrick’s height made him easy to pick out above the sea of bobbing heads.
Two blocks down, Jerrick disappeared through a set of double doors. Slowing his pace, Dash came even with the shop and read the name etched in the tinted glass. Hulani Fashionables. Since Jerrick’s idea of fashion was limited to tee shirts and scruffy denim, he figured it a safe bet his brother was on the job. Pushing one of the doors open, he stepped inside.
Music very similar to the gods-awful racket Piper had been listening to pounded around him. Wispy smocks, crystal-beaded frock coats and other fripperies circumnavigated the walls of the main showroom on a fiber optic pulley system. A female with spiky purple hair met Jerrick halfway across the room. The pulley system’s fiber optics reflected beams off her mirrored tube top. She glanced towards the doorway and Dash ducked behind a display of colorful bangles.
Through a crack in the screen he watched Jerrick swing his jacket from his shoulder and extract a vial filled with a murky white substance. The female handed over a wad of merca. After returning most of the bills despite the woman’s protests, Jerrick strode to the doorway. Dash stepped out from behind the silk-covered screen. His brother’s face hardened.
Dash nodded at the bills crumpled in Jerrick’s fist. “You in the drug trade now?”
Blistering anger shimmered around Jerrick. “Didn’t I make it clear last night I don’t want to see your face again?”
“I don’t care what you want. We have business to settle.”
White-hot sparks flickered from Jerrick. Noticing the visible output of his hostile fury, he shoved the merca into his pants pocket and whipped his jacket on. “The only reason I’m not slamming you into the nearest wall is because I respect Fromona too much to trash her place.”
Dash curled his mouth in a mocking smile. “Yeah, I can see how much you respect her. Enough to give her a discount on the drugs.”
A rigid vein throbbed in Jerrick’s neck. “She has Grandix disease. The Scorshee dust is the only thing that relieves her pain, but it’s on the banned-substance list. Make of it what you will.” Without further word, he stormed through the exit.
The air vacuum sucked the door back into place. Dash turned and stared at the woman straightening the hem of a velvet shawl on the pulley system. A large tumor protruded from her right wrist.
His shoulders slumped. “Oh bloody hell.”
Chapter Sixteen
“We’ve been in Tul’dea a whopping three days and the only things I’ve accomplished are baring my soul and sticking my foot in my mouth. Repeatedly.” Mara shook her head as she picked out a skirt and top to wear to dinner.
Her fingers brushed over the soft knit of the pink scoop-necked sweater. How could she possibly feel both terrible and elated after baring her soul to Dash? The part of her psyche carrying around the burden of her responsibility over her mother’s death and Gideon’s imprisonment might be lighter, but it also felt naked and vulnerable.
“Okay, I’m officially out of my ever-loving head.”
“I could have told you that ages ago.”
Swiveling on her heel, Mara stared at Piper. She hadn’t heard her come in. That was the problem with these darn doors—they were maddeningly silent. Then again, they also provided Piper with easy access. It was rather nice, not having to let the sprite in and out a gazillion times a day. “You know, for someone who insisted on tagging along to help out, you’ve made yourself pretty damn scarce most of the time.” Which was weird. Back at the palace, Piper rarely took a break from her busy pestering schedule.
Piper landed on the dresser. Leaning close to the looking glass, she picked her lunch from her teeth. “How else was I supposed to give you alone time with Rhyder?”
Mara gaped at Piper’s reflection. “Why would you want to leave me alone with Dash?”
“Because you need to get laid. Bad.”
“Are you crazy?” Mara sputtered. She opened her mouth, trying to formulate a more articulate observation. Unfortunately, none were forthcoming.
“You both have an itch that needs scratching.” Finished with her teeth cleaning, Piper fluffed her hair. “So I say unlock your chastity belt and ride that bad boy ’til you’re both tuckered out.”
Gritting her teeth, Mara returned her attention to the sweater in her hands. “Just when I figure you couldn’t possibly be more annoying, you go and open your mouth.”
“Fake it all you want, I know you have a soft spot where I’m concerned.”
“These delusions of yours are getting out of control.”
Piper made a pfftt noise with her tongue. Apparently done grooming the upper part of her body, she flopped down on the dresser and pulled off her pink and orange striped leg warmers. She picked up a tiny nail buffer and began giving herself a pedicure. “Rhyder told me all about the hysterical breakdown you had when the Gromache swiped me.”
A laugh clogged Mara’s windpipe. Choking, she thumped her chest until her breath popped free. “Trust me, I was far from hysterical. Mostly I didn’t want to explain to Nalia how you became a tasty snack for a four-eyed toad.” She wrinkled her nose. “And please don’t leave your toenail clippings lying around this time. It’s gross.”
A knock sounded on the adjoining door.
“Come in,” Mara said.
The door slid open and Dash s
tepped into the room. In addition to the low-brimmed hat he’d gotten in the habit of wearing, he also wore the same buff-colored slacks from earlier in the day. Topping it off was a shirt in a gorgeous shade of midnight blue that clung to his torso in all the right places. Mara couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Where did you get that?”
When he gave her a blank look, she motioned towards his shirt.
He glanced down before smiling at her. “Like it? I stole it from downstairs.” She gave him a shocked look and he laughed. “Good gods, you’re gullible.”
“I could have told you that ages ago,” Piper said from the dresser.
Mara tossed her sweater atop the sprite and glanced back at Dash. Her focus automatically returned to the shirt stretched over his exquisitely muscled chest. “Actually, I do like it. It really defines your…eyes.”
His mouth curled into a grin, as if he knew damn well it wasn’t his eyes she’d been admiring. She decided to change the subject before she dug a pit without any exits. “Did you happen to check the computing network again while you were downstairs?”
“Yeah. Same story as yesterday. Nothing.”
She took a deep breath and blurted the one thing she knew he didn’t want to hear. “There’s always Jerrick.”
Irritation glinted in his eyes. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
Bridling her frustration, she knelt and grabbed her high heels. After inspecting them for scuff marks, she tossed them next to the skirt resting atop the coverlet. “Maybe if you talked to him.”
A grunt sounded from Dash. “You saw the type of talking Jerrick’s interested in.”
Mara turned her head and caught him gingerly probing his jaw. The shadow of a bruise mingled with the dark stubble he’d yet to divest himself of. How crazy was it that her heart tripped over a fae thief who accumulated bruises faster than a bathing cubicle collected mold. Yep, Gideon would definitely label her clinically insane.
Lover Enslaved: Thieves of Aurion, Book 1 Page 15
