Tears of the Dragon

by Tears of the Dragon (NCP) (lit)

  He studied her for several moments and finally shook his head. "If the fortress were fully manned, we could not find a better place. As it is, we can not hope to hold it against a concerted attack."

  Khalia felt her heart skip several beats. "You think there’ll be one?"

  He shrugged. "I will not hazard a guess when your life is at stake. We must retire to a more defensible position, or a secret location until we have a better idea of what we’re up against."

  Chapter Nine

  Khalia woke to the sound of movement close by. Despite the fact that she’d grown accustomed to finding Damien in the suite when she awoke, or finding that he’d been and left a breakfast tray, the night before had left its mark and Khalia’s first reaction was fear. She bolted upright in the bed, looking around owl eyed.

  Damien, whom she discovered was busily stuffing garments into a satchel he held in one hand, glanced around at her and, after staring at him blearily for several moments, Khalia collapsed back on the bed. "It can’t be morning already," she muttered tiredly.

  "I allowed you to sleep as long as possible. We need to be well away from here before they realize their assassins failed."

  It wasn’t just her imagination then, she thought. She really hadn’t slept long. Groaning, she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and dropped her head in her hands. "We’re leaving then?"

  Damien turned to study her. His face was grim. "The guards at the eastern gate were found dead. Captain Swiftwing and his men followed the assassin’s trail. They’d gone to a great deal of trouble trying to hide it, but not enough. Swiftwing ascertained that they came from Caracaren."

  Shouldering the bag, he helped her to her feet and urged her toward the door. "I sent Swiftwing and his men to Caracaren to report the attempt on your life to the council. I don’t know who is loyal and who is not and, until I do, I trust no one."

  Khalia dug her heels in. "You expect me to leave like this?" she demanded, gesturing toward her nightgown.

  He nodded, grabbing the boots she’d worn earlier and a second satchel as they passed through the living area. "You can change when we stop to rest."

  To her surprise, instead of heading toward the ramparts, Damien led her toward the stairs. "We’re going through the service level?" she asked in surprise, repressing a shiver.

  He shook his head. "There is a secret escape passage that will take us north east of here, into the forest."

  Khalia was having some difficulty shaking off the drugging effects of too little sleep, but she frowned. "Won’t whoever sent the assassins know about it, too?"

  "Most likely. They won’t have had time to learn that the assassins failed yet, however, so it should be safe enough to use it."

  "Oh … but then, what’s the point?"

  Damien sent her a glance of grim amusement. "It will take us in the direction I wish to go, sheashona. It was designed specifically for escape and therefore designed to hide our passage from any who would track us. They will know once they have checked the service area, of course, but it may buy us a little time."

  The secret passage was in the main salon, the door a life sized rendering of a man garbed in robes and wearing a coronet. Behind the portrait was what appeared to be a clear glass globe. When Damien opened a section of the globe and gestured for her to step inside, she glanced at him a little doubtfully. After that fractional hesitation, however, she stepped into it, staring down the long shaft before her uneasily. Damien stepped in behind her, closing the door and sealing them inside. As she watched, he pressed a spot on the globe and a panel lined with buttons and switches appeared. As he flicked first one and then another, lights appeared in the shaft before them. A soft whir caught her attention and Khalia looked back in time to see a seat of sorts emerge behind Damien. Settling, Damien pulled her down until she was seated between his thighs, then pulled some sort of harness over the two of them and fastened it.

  Khalia was beginning to get a very bad feeling even before she felt a vibration begin beneath them.

  "What is this … thing?"

  "Escape pod," Damien said succinctly as he punched another button.

  Free fall didn’t begin to describe what happened next. The thing shot forward with such velocity Khalia felt as if she’d been plastered against Damien, as if she was melting into him. If she could’ve drawn enough air into her lungs to manage it, she would have screamed. As it was, she was thankful when she blacked out.

  When consciousness returned, Khalia discovered that they had stopped. With an effort, she opened her eyes. Weak sunlight filtered through the leaves over her head. She stared up at the canopy for several moments, trying to figure out where she was and how she’d gotten there.

  "You’re awake."

  Khalia closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, feeling anger spring instantly to life. Pushing herself upright, she glared at him. "I wasn’t asleep," she ground out.

  His brows rose, but he made no comment. "We need to go … if you are feeling well enough now."

  "I feel like killing you!" Khalia ground out. "What in God’s name was that thing? And why in the hell did you decide it would be the best route of escape?"

  Something gleamed in his eyes and Khalia realized that he’d actually enjoyed that thing. It made her want to kill him even more.

  "In no more than twenty minutes, we traveled further than we could have walked in a day … further than we might have flown in two hours … without detection. We are now little more than two days’ walk from our destination."

  "What was that thing?" Khalia demanded. "And what demented mind thought it up?"

  "The escape pod—your grandfather designed it and had it built, but it had never been used."

  Khalia gaped at him. "Never been… Escape pod! You said escape route. You never said anything about a pod and I can’t believe you put me in that thing when it had never even been tested!"

  Damien got to his feet. "I said it had not been used. It was exhaustively tested."

  Khalia climbed shakily to her feet, as well. "My grandfather … you put me in something my grandfather built before I was even born?"

  He nodded. "You were not harmed," he pointed out.

  "I passed out from pure terror. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve passed out from pure terror?"

  He lifted a brow questioningly.

  Khalia ground her teeth. Stalking toward him until they were toe to toe, she plunked her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "Once!"

  One corner of his lips twitched. "You are enchanting when you are angry, sheashona."

  Khalia let out a growl and kicked him on the shin. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten she was bare foot. He was wearing boots. Yelping, she grabbed her throbbing toe, hopping on one foot. Damien caught her shoulders to steady her. Dropping her injured foot, she gave him an angry shove. He didn’t move, but the force of her blow set her off balance. He caught her, jerking her tightly against his chest. When Khalia tilted her head up to glare at him, she saw that the amusement had vanished from his expression. In its place was a purposefulness that set her heart to hammering in her chest and made her mouth go dry. As she watched, she saw the muscles of his throat convulse on a hard swallowed. Lifting a hand, he stroked her cheek lightly. "Will it make you feel better if I say I was as frightened as you were?"

  Khalia licked her dry lips. "You weren’t," she said a little doubtfully.

  He studied the movement of her tongue, his eyes darkening. Finally, he dropped his hand to her arm and nodded. "The force from the speed was more than I’d expected. When you went limp, I thought I’d killed you. I’m more relieved than I can say that you woke ready to take me to task for frightening you."

  Khalia looked away, feeling disappointment fill her. She’d hoped he meant to kiss her. She drew in a shuddering breath. "I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I … misunderstood. I thought you were familiar with the … uh … escape thingy."

  As if he’d only just become aware that he still held her
tightly against him, his arms relaxed, his hands settling along her waist as if he would set her away from him. Khalia looked up at him and smiled faintly. Lifting a hand, she placed it on his chest. "I’m more glad than I can say that I have you…." She stumbled to a halt at the look that came into his eyes. "That it was you who found me," she finished a little breathlessly.

  His hands clenched on her waist almost painfully, as if he was of two minds, one to push her away, and the other to pull her tightly against him once more. The latter won out. Slipping his arms around her, he molded her tightly against him, dipping his head to nuzzle the side of her neck, and then the shell of her ear. Finally, he caught a fistful of her hair and tipped her head back, covering her mouth with the urgency of long denied hunger.

  Khalia’s heart seemed to stop in her chest as he filled her world with himself. The heat of his mouth sent pleasure coursing through her. She sucked in a shaky breath as her heart commenced to hammering erratically, beating out a desperate tattoo of need that burgeoned, filling the darkest, most secret recesses of her being. Her fingers curled against his chest as his tongue skated along her lips, seeking, she realized instinctively, to caress her more intimately.

  Opening her mouth to him, she slipped her arms upward, locking her hands behind his head and surging upward on her toes to give him greater access, flattening her breasts against his hard chest. A shudder of delight went through her as he thrust his tongue possessively inside her mouth, raking it along her own. She moved restlessly against him. The thin gown she wore had never seemed substantial enough and now felt like far too much of a barrier between them. Through it, the heat and strength of his body, the texture of his skin teased her. Her nipples tightened, hardening, extending to become acute sensors, and shards of pleasure pulsed from the brushing contact, joining the rush of delight created by the feel and taste of his tongue as he explored her mouth thoroughly to become a massive influx of wondrous, debilitating sensation. Enthralled, she pressed closer until her lower body brushed his, and she felt the heated length of his manhood pressing into the softness of her belly.

  Dimly, she realized she should have been appalled by the blatant evidence of his arousal. She should have felt some alarm at the size of it. Instead, she felt her body clench with need and her heart flutter in anticipation. A shudder went through her as he skated one hand down her spine, molding her body against his own until, finally, he cupped one buttock, lifting and pulling her against him in a rhythmic, erotic massage that ground her pubic bone against his hard length. With each thrust, a sense of desperation began to build in her, an expanding and contracting of her senses that she knew, instinctively, was leading her somewhere she wanted to go.

  Abruptly, he tore his mouth from hers, burying it against her neck, sucking the sensitive flesh in a way that sent a flurry of sensation rippling over the skin of her neck and shoulder. His hand tightened on her buttock, pressing her hard against him and holding her for several heartbeats.

  She sensed his withdrawal even though he held still held her closely, felt the tension in his body as he held himself rigidly still for many moments, breathing raggedly. The snap of a twig nearby sent a jolt through both of them and Damien lifted his head, looking around sharply.

  Abruptly, he set her away from him. "This is insanity," he growled almost angrily. Moving away from her, he snatched the packs off the ground and shouldered them.

  Khalia shivered as he moved away from her, watching his angry, jerky movements in a fog of confusion. He refused to meet her eye. Instead, he caught her upper arm and led her away from the small clearing. Khalia glanced behind them as he tugged her away. There was no sign of the tube, no sign of the pod. Around them, there was only the thick vegetation of a primal forest. Within moments, she couldn’t even see the small clearing.

  He released her after a moment, holding the brush aside with his arms as they passed through it. Perhaps ten minutes had passed when she heard the gurgle of rushing water that announced the presence of a stream ahead of them. Still wrapped in the cocoon of shock created by his abrupt dismissal, Khalia continued to stumble along behind him, unable to think, or to feel beyond a growing sense of pain and anger at his rejection. She didn’t realize that they’d reached the stream until Damien stepped into it.

  Slipping on the damp vegetation at the edge, Khalia landed in the stream up to her neck. The shock of the chilled water stole the breath from her lungs. She was still gasping for air when Damien pulled her to her feet. His hands tightened on her when she’d gained her feet instead of releasing her. Peering at him through the damp strings of her hair, she saw that his gaze was fixed on the wet, clinging fabric that now covered far less even than it had when dry.

  After a moment, he swallowed convulsively and released her. "We need to follow the stream to throw them off our scent."

  Khalia gaped at him while outrage slowly supplanted her shock. After bringing her to the point where she was ready to throw caution and morals to the wind and roll around in the grass with him, rutting like an animal, this was all he could think of to say to her?

  "Are you up to it?" he persisted when she said nothing.

  Khalia’s eyes narrowed, her lips thinning as rage began simmering inside of her.

  Damien flushed, but she wasn’t certain whether it was from embarrassment or if his own anger had flared when she remained mute, and she didn’t particularly care.

  He looked away. "The stream branches in every direction. Even if they follow us to this point, they won’t be able to determine which direction we’ve taken. If we have enough of a lead on them, the trail will grow cold."

  Without a word, Khalia untied the ties at the side of the gown and peeled it off, carefully bundling the sodden mass of fabric into a ball. Damien stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. She heaved the soaked gown at his head, feeling a measure of satisfaction as the soggy bundle slapped him in the face. "I won’t be needing this," she said tightly, side stepping him and slogging down the stream in the lead.

  She felt his heated gaze on her back, but many moments passed before she heard the splash that told her he was following. By the time it filtered through her enraged mind that he was closing the distance between them at a speed that indicated she’d managed to arouse his ire, it was too late to react. She yelped as he seized her around the waist and snatched her off her feet. Before she’d managed to place more than a glancing blow in her defense, he deposited her, none too gently, on a mossy bank. The boots he’d been carrying hit the bank beside her and right behind it a pack. She glared at him, her chest heaving with fury.

  His gaze slid over her and away again. "Get dressed."

  Khalia wasn’t certain what demon of mischief prompted her, but it was not simply a matter of ‘too mad to care’. She not only made no attempt to guard her modesty, she very deliberately provoked him by simply remaining just as she was, her legs splayed before her, glaring back at him until he turned to look at her once more. When she had his full attention, she grasped one of the boots and slowly pulled it on as his gaze moved over her and finally settled on the damp thatch of red hair between her thighs. She paused when she had it on, pretending to adjust it for several moments before she picked up the second boot and pulled it on just as slowly.

  By the time she reached for the pack, Damien looked in imminent danger of a heart attack. He was breathing raggedly, his chest heaving with each struggling breath. His eyes were black with desire, glazed.

  With deliberation, she searched the pack, discarding first one garment and then another until, with a growl of frustration, Damien stalked away. A satisfied smile curled her lips. Picking up one of the kerchief-like tops, she tied it behind her head and then secured the remaining tie behind her back. It seemed pointless to put on one of the skirts if they were to be slogging through water. A brief search turned up a garment similar to the one Damien wore, except that it was no more than a narrow strip in the back, which fit between her buttocks. She got up and stepped into it, pulli
ng it up. When Damien paused at last to look back, she turned her back to him, bent over at the waist and began to put the discarded garments back into it with a pretense of unconcern.

  He was glaring at her when she straightened and turned with the pack in her hand. Without a word, he sloshed back across the stream, snatched the pack from her hand and stalked away again.

  Khalia’s sense of satisfaction waned as the day wore on and they followed the stream to a fork and turned, following the branch for hours it seemed, for miles. She’d had almost no sleep—she doubted Damien had had any at all—and she thought it was probably far more work to walk in the shallow stream even than it would have been to fight their way through the heavy brush of the forest.

  Instead of stopping for lunch, Damien pulled a wrapped bundle from the pack and peeled the metallic wrapping back. Revealing what looked to be a small loaf of bread, he tore it in half and handed her a piece. Khalia looked it over and discovered that some kind of meat and cheese had been stuffed inside the bread. The meat tasted like beef or perhaps lamb, although she thought it was probably doubtful that either creature existed on this world. They ate in silence, just as they’d walked in silence. When Khalia had finished, she stopped and scooped up handfuls of water to quench her thirst. Damien stopped to drink, as well, his gaze flickering over her, both desire and, strangely, puzzlement clouding his features.

  Khalia found she was too tired to try to figure out what the look might mean or even to care. Her body warmed beneath his gaze, despite her weariness, however, and irritation surfaced. Swiping the water from her mouth, she moved ahead of him again, ignoring the temptation to tease him.

  She discovered when she finally glanced back to see why he wasn’t following her, that wasn’t necessary to put any effort into it. The outfit she’d chosen was obviously provocative enough by itself, for his gaze was caught by the hypnotic sway of her bare buttocks. When she stopped, he blinked, stared down at the drops of water drying on his fingers for several moments and finally surged forward and past her, setting an even more grueling pace than before.