“Come on,” said Trey, heading toward the darkness beyond the palisade.
Brin raised a brow. “You’ve got it all worked out, have you?”
“Possibly.” Trey threw his torch into the first patch of moonlit swamp. It died with an angry hiss. “Possibly not. Anje, love?”
“Bear left and stick to the trail. It’s all bog here,” she said. “Trey, you’re limping.”
He grunted. “You try having a SpurSoldier fall on your ankle.”
Brin slid an arm around Trey’s waist, despite his protests. “Lead on, Anje. We’re right behind you.”
They emerged from cover onto a small dry patch under a giant sorrowtree, right under Braithie’s nose. Anje was so certain the girl was going to faint, she sprang forward, hands outstretched. But Braithie was made of sterner stuff. Confronted with the sight of two warriors, both stark naked, one of them a giant, her eyes went as round as a full moon. She swallowed, her stare running over Brin’s body, lodging at his crotch. “I dinna do noothin’ else, even if ye pay me,” she muttered.
Anje giggled, light-headed with relief, but Brin stepped forward and took Braithie’s hand as if she were a noble lady. He bowed over it with unimpaired dignity. “I owe you a great debt for your courage. What I can do, I will.”
Braithie’s grimy fingers clutched his. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her shoulder. “Git me away from Nilda. That’d do.”
Brin smiled, the dimples flashing, and Anje saw Braithie’s knees tremble beneath her ragged skirts. “My word on it,” he rumbled. He rolled an eye at Anje and Trey. “Nilda?”
“It’s a long story,” said Trey. “Anje suggested we use Braithie to create a diversion. When I went out to get the rest of the money, I gave her the signal.” He grinned like a boy. “Miners’ blast powder tossed into a fire makes a lovely bang, doesn’t it, Braithie?”
The girl blinked. “Ay. But ‘twas ye took the risks. Ye and her.”
“Don’t worry, Braithie,” murmured Brin, his voice absolutely expressionless. “They’ll get their reward.”
Hastily, Anje fumbled for the Bond link. He’d closed it down to the barest flicker, but she could still detect the anger lurking beneath. When his hand smoothed her hair in the most controlled of caresses, she knew he’d caught the flash of panic and arousal.
“Can we go now? I have yer beasties,” said Braithie.
“Lufra, yes!” Suddenly, Brin grinned broadly, raised his hands above his head and stretched until his spine popped, completely unconscious of three pairs of hungry eyes. “Ah, that feels good!”
One long arm jerked Anje into his chest and he hugged her until her bones creaked. From Brin’s other side, she heard a masculine grunt and knew he’d gathered Trey in as well. She turned her nose into his skin and breathed the spicy essence of Brin beneath the slave pen reek. Her cheek pressed against something rank and slimy smeared over his chest and she didn’t care.
He released her so abruptly she staggered. “Come on, we’re not out of this yet. Anje, you’re with me. Trey, you take Braithie.”
The ride back to The Hollows was a nightmare. Anje cursed herself for not thinking of the human parasites who made their living out of the Hssrda slave trade. The shadowed streets seethed with the dark bodies of escaping slaves and those who pursued them for profit. In the shanty-town slums, they had to fight off two different bands of marauders. If it hadn’t been for the battle skills of the Feolin warriors and their vranee, the Mother only knew what might have happened.
Once they’d enticed the animals through the narrow door of Nilda’s squat, Braithie slipped away into the bowels of the building, reminding Anje of a small, beady-eyed animal in desperate search of a burrow.
Brin dived on Twink’s water bucket and upended it over his head, scrubbing at his skin. When Trey laughed and handed him Brownie’s, he tossed the wet hair out of his eyes and did it all over again, swearing as the cold water stung the gashes on his body. The worst was the slice on his arm. Blood and water trickled over his biceps. Anje eyed it with concern. “Brin, come upstairs. I should doctor that.”
“Upstairs?” It was the first word he’d spoken since they’d entered.
Anje stepped aside from the hole in the wall and Brin’s brows rose. “I see.” He looked around. “Is there any food? Ah!” He pounced on Nilda’s cooking pot, peered inside and grimaced. But he snatched up a crusted spoon and devoured cold, scummy stew with amazing rapidity, while Anje and Trey watched in silence.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smiled tightly, his eyes as black as onyx. “Now we will go upstairs and you will tell me precisely why and how you lost your minds.”
The trip up the steps seemed to take an age. With Brin looming darkly behind her, Anje’s spine prickled with awareness. The cheeks of her ass heated, as if she felt the heavy weight of his hand. The worst thing was that a perverse part of her could hardly wait. Her sex moistened.
Brin shut the door of their shabby room behind him with a decisive click and leaned against it, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He looked exhausted. Trey moved toward him, but Anje drew him back with a hand on his arm. She shook her head in warning.
Brin was no longer masking the link and she felt him gathering his strength, honing his furious purpose. Mother, she couldn’t breathe! He dominated the room, the weight of his silence sucking all the air out of her lungs.
Trey took a step forward. Anje couldn’t see how he found the courage. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?” he asked. Gods, he must be mad! Her heart lodged in her throat.
Brin’s long-lidded eyes glittered with anger. “Certainly.” He bit out the words, his voice rising with each syllable. “I value my balls, not to mention my life. I am exceedingly grateful for my rescue. Accept my humble thanks.”
His chest expanded as he dragged in a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was very low. “Sorry,” he said. “Thank you. Truly.”
He blinked and abruptly, his eyes blazed. Pushing away from the door, he paced across the room. Trey jumped aside before he was mown down. “Sweet Lufra, I have never, NEVER, been so frightened in my life! And there was nothing I could do! Nothing!”
Brin ran a hand through his wet hair and the drops trickled over his thick wrist. “You took an insane risk, both of you.” He whirled around. “For me! What if you’d been killed—or captured? How could I live with that?”
Trey limped forward to block his path. “How could we live without you?”
Brin shut his mouth with a snap. His hands shot out to grasp Trey’s shoulders as if to shake him. Just as abruptly, he let him go. “I swear I’m going to beat you bloody.”
Trey arched a brow. “Anytime.” He smiled.
The shaman cut him an evil glare. “How dare you take such a risk? How dare you?”
The desperation that boiled across the link, the yearning—Sweet Mother, the loneliness!—tore her apart. Anje couldn’t bear it. She stiffened her spine. “I told you why we dared. In the cave.”
Brin stalked over and sank his hands into her hair. He began unraveling her beaded braids, as if he knew how much they irritated her. But though his fingers were gentle, his expression was anything but. “So you did,” he growled. “While Trey—” Abruptly, he pressed his lips together. Two spots of color burned high on his cheekbones.
“You aren’t going to talk about it, are you?” Trey said to the shaman’s broad back.
Brin didn’t turn. “No.” He tossed the string of beads aside and sifted his fingers through Anje’s hair, fluffing it over her shoulders. For a moment, she thought his hands trembled.
“Why not?”
Brin tucked Anje under his arm and turned slowly. She had the strangest feeling he was holding on to her for support. But he treated Trey to a stare cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins. “Don’t ever, ever, touch me like that again.”
“Why? Because you loved it?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Children of the
Mother—Government:
The Children of the Mother are ruled by an elected Council of five Matriarchs. All citizens over the age of twenty-five may vote, both male and female, but only women over the age of fifty are eligible for the Council. The Matriarchs employ advisors on an ad hoc basis and gender is no bar. In fact, the Battle Commander of the Children is often male.
Excerpt from the Great Encyclopedia, compiled by Miriliel the Burnished.
The shaman shrugged. “A reaction of the body. Any mouth would have done.”
Trey’s lashes fell, shuttering his expression. He pushed a clenched fist against the wall and rested his forehead against it.
Anje didn’t need to be Bonded to feel the depth of his hurt. “Trey, you promised me! Don’t give up.” She flung her arms around Brin’s waist and dragged in a preparatory breath. All hell was going to break loose. “He’s lying.”
“Anje!” With an outraged roar, Brin tried to prize her loose, but she hung on tight.
“You Bonded me, mighty shaman.” She nipped him on the meat of his chest. “Deal with it.”
Brin lifted her off her feet and bent his head to growl in her ear. “I’m going to beat you, scout. I swear.”
Anje’s laugh was shaky. “Anytime.” She unwound her arms and looked at Trey, frozen with the painful return of hope. “Do whatever you like, Trey. I’ll know if he’s lying. Body or soul.”
“Anje, don’t do this.”
“That’s not what the link’s saying, Brin.”
“But I can’t! I mustn’t! It’s a matter of honor and trust. Lufra, I’m responsible for him!” His voice thickened. “Taking advantage of this…” He hissed in frustration. “This infatuation—what would that do to him? What would I become?”
“Hullo?” They looked up. Trey stood with his hands on his hips, his head tilted to one side. “I’m still here, remember?”
“Trey, you know I don’t fuck men. I’m not interested.”
“True for every man except you, Trey,” said Anje and Brin cursed under his breath.
Trey’s lips set in a thin line. “It’s been years since you were my mentor, Brin. Tell me, how old am I now?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t.” Brin frowned. “I just don’t think about it. You’re…you must be…” His eyes widened.
“Twenty-four.”
All trace of expression disappeared from Brin’s face.
“Only three years younger than me,” said Anje, enjoying herself. It was the only time she’d seen him nonplussed.
“But you’re a woman!”
“That’s true,” she said and Trey chuckled.
He stepped forward and slid a hand up over the shaman’s shoulder. Brin’s gaze followed the goose bumps that sprang up on the bronzed skin. As he inhaled, Anje felt him shore up his resolve. He held the other man’s eye and said steadily, “Look, Trey, you’re my friend. I admit I feel…affection for you.”
“True,” said Anje promptly. Brin shot her a filthy look from under inky lashes and she swallowed a nervous giggle.
“But this nonsense, it’s just lust and proximity.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “You’ll regret it later. If you have to have a man, go back to your lover.”
Trey’s fists clenched. “Don’t tell me what I feel, you patronizing bastard! I’m a man grown and I know when I love someone.” His eyes narrowed. “If you feel nothing for me, prove it.”
Brin looked wary. “How?”
“Let me kiss you.” Trey shrugged. “I’ve wanted to since I was sixteen.”
“Sixteen!” Brin sounded so appalled, the other man laughed outright.
“I’m not sixteen now, remember? Are you scared?”
“No! But I don’t want—”
Trey glanced at Anje, one brow quirked. She shook her head, smiling. “He’s a terrible liar. Why don’t you push a little, Trey? It always works for me.”
Brin snarled and the Bond link shut down so abruptly, Anje swayed on her feet. Trey slid both hands around the shaman’s neck and tugged. “Bend your head.” His hazel eyes shone gold with love and lust. As he reached up to fit his lips to Brin’s, his lashes swept down.
Anje leaned against the wall, panting with shock and arousal. Brin stood rigid, fists clenched at his sides, while Trey pressed up against him, that luscious mouth working, his hips flexing in a sensual rhythm. They looked like two barbarian lords, locked in a rough, carnal embrace. Ah Mother, they were so beautiful, her men! And they were going to love each other if she had to tie Brin down and get Trey to ravish him.
She smiled at the thought. Then she sought the flickering ember of the Bond link. Shut himself off, would he? Hah! All those headaches had taught her more than he knew. Relentlessly, she pushed at the barrier, focusing her love, her joy, her exasperation at his pigheaded honor.
Trey moaned and Brin grasped his wrist as if to push him away.
But he didn’t.
The link blazed and Anje fed the inferno with love, with lust, with memory. Let him love you, she willed the shaman. Sweet Mother, let him love you as I do!
Brin wavered, then steadied. But he’d shifted his grip to cradle the back of Trey’s skull and his mouth was moving.
Dark joy suffused her. She burrowed a hand into her trews, seeking out her sex, dripping with honey. She fixed her gaze on Brin and Trey, and stroked the throbbing knot of her clitoris. As she hovered on the peak, she forced the link open wide. Then she surrendered to her release, plunging luxuriously deep, flooding the link with her ecstasy.
Over her own gasping breath, she heard Brin’s tortured groan as her orgasm shoved him hard onto the agonizing cusp of decision. A moment of shattering suspense and she felt him gather his will and make his choice.
He broke so hard, so comprehensively, the walls of his resistance collapsed with a roar that was almost audible. The brutal, masculine surge of emotion swept over her like a huge wave of water, dragging her under, drowning her in a second climax.
He had one arm hard around Trey’s shoulders and the other hand splayed across that fine ass, wrapping him up, devouring the younger man like a starving fellwolf. And Trey was giving as good as he got, his hips grinding against the shaman’s.
Anje slid down the wall to the floor, tears prickling her eyes. Thank you, Mother of all the world. Thank you, sweet Lufra.
Vaguely, she wondered what would happen first. Would they spurt all over each other or simply pass out from lack of air? But Trey pulled back, his breath coming short and choppy, his smile blinding. Brin’s arms fell away. Trey stepped back and they looked down together.
Trey tapped the head of Brin’s massive erection with his forefinger. It jerked violently. “Affection, huh?”
Brin clamped both big hands on the other man’s shoulders. His fingers dug into the muscular, creamy flesh with brutal strength. “Trey, are you sure?” It was a gravelly rasp, barely audible. “Be sure.”
Trey lifted his chin. “I’m sure I love you. I always have. But—” He glanced at Anje and his lips firmed. “I love Anje too. And she loves me.”
Brin’s grip tightened. He glared into Trey’s eyes. “She’s mine.”
The other man stared straight back. “Lucky you.” One corner of his beautiful mouth quirked. “You have us both.”
“Treat her right, Trey. I won’t have you breaking her heart.”
“It won’t be me who does that.”
Brin’s jaw clamped shut so forcefully, Anje could swear she heard his teeth click. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Brin’s lashes fluttered down and he dragged in two deep breaths. “Mine, by all the gods!” His lids lifted and Anje gasped at the inferno raging there. Every coherent thought fled. “Mine! Both of you.” The crooked smile flashed as he tugged Trey close and reached down to scoop Anje up under one arm. “You ganged up on me from the beginning, the pair of you. As for you,
scout, you pushed again. I could have—”
“Maybe.” Rising on her tiptoes, Anje stroked his lower lip with her tongue. “But your soul didn’t want you to.” She smiled into his midnight eyes, straight into the flames. “We’re good for you, Brin. Learn to live with it.”
She kissed him, sinking into the welcome heat of his mouth, feeling his cock press hard into the soft flesh of her belly. Behind her, Trey’s body warmed her skin as he unlaced her bodice and drew it away. His hands stroked firm and knowing over her ribs and her breasts and she moaned into Brin’s mouth, a tingle running through the silver lines on her back.
The shaman pulled away, his chest heaving, and looked from Anje to Trey. He licked his lips. “Gods, it’s a banquet!”
“Who do you want for the first course?” husked Trey.
Brin cupped his rampant sex and looked down ruefully at the broad, flushed head. “I wish I had two cocks.”
“Well, between us we do,” said Trey. A quick exchange of glances between the two men and he exploded into action, tugging Anje’s trews off without ceremony. “Come lie down, sweetheart.” He had her settled on the mattress before she could blink. “That’s right.”
Brin laughed, the sound deep and joyous and somehow carefree. Then he dropped to his knees and pulled Trey into his arms across Anje’s supine body. Leaning up on her elbows, she watched him bend his head, concentrating on the buckles of the other man’s slave harness. It seemed to take him an eternity to get it undone, slapping Trey’s hands away when he tried to help. They all breathed a sigh of relief when Trey’s shaft bobbed free, proud and naked above his tight, velvety balls. Brin held his gaze as he reached out and wrapped long fingers around it. The shock of the contact produced three gasps.
Gift of the Goddess Page 21
