Which she didn’t. Jag didn’t know how she tasted. He’d—well, he was going to say he’d never been with a female before Faith, but it would be this realm’s biggest lie. He was with Azelia, lots of times.
Luckily Light’s sing-song voice pulled him from his mind as he said, “I can’t wait to see Faith.” There was a twinkle in the cerulean depths of Light’s eyes Jag didn’t like. “There’s so much I can’t wait to tell her. What are you going to tell her, Jag?” Light enjoyed being the mocker far too much.
Jag probably deserved it, though. He should’ve pushed Azelia off immediately. Bad Jag.
Nilda answered for him, “Jag will do what’s right.” Her eyes were like daggers as she whispered, “I raised him better than that.” Just like that, her ill-will was gone and her spritely demeanor returned. “Now, shall we commence? Barring we don’t get any more interruptions?” She waited a few seconds before exiting her tent.
Light gave him a funny look as Jag walked by, causing him to stop and say, “What? Don’t act like you haven’t—” What was he trying to say? Unsure, he just motioned toward the flap, hoping Light knew he was talking about Azelia and not Nilda. “—had any of that.” Jag pushed out of the tent in a huff. His good mood was officially soured.
Chuckling, Light earned himself a sharp glare from Jag. “Actually, I haven’t. Not for lack of their trying, but I never did—” He mimicked Jag’s gesture. “—that before Faith.” He spoke it like he wasn’t ashamed at all. Being an Elf, the one race who loved their partying like no other, maybe he should’ve been.
Jag shrugged. “Never knew you were an amateur, Light.”
That got Light to hiss, “I am not an amateur.”
“You’re not?” Jag cocked his head. “Even though you’ve never been with a female before Faith?” He chuckled quietly. He knew Light had interest in girls from hanging out with him so much as the years went by; Jag just assumed he’d done it when he left to move to Springsweet in the heart of Alyna.
“She hasn’t complained.”
“Thanks in no doubt to my skill at cleaning up what mess you leave her with.”
Light was about to retort, but Nilda threw them both a look from her position in front of them as she led them through the camp. “That’s enough. You two can measure your manhoods together when you are alone and preferably out of earshot.” She groaned, running a clawed finger over her face, tapping her temple. “You are making my head hurt.”
Nilda had spoken.
Both men kept their arguments to themselves.
“Are you ready?” Nilda’s voice was strong as she moved toward a tent she’d stopped in front of.
Both men were ready, so both men went in. Neither man, however, expected to walk into a tent with nothing but a sword inside. Jag knew the sword well enough, though it was Light’s first time seeing it. Its blade was longer than the average sword, almost as long as a leg; definitely longer than an arm. Its hilt was black leather, bound by tight stitching.
The Dread King’s sword, given to the Malus after the last Harbinger slayed him and defeated his army.
Jag couldn’t even imagine Faith doing something similar. Not that he doubted her; he just couldn’t see her as the type to lead anyone into battle.
“Uh,” Light muttered, glancing to Jag.
“We’re not here for the sword, Nilda. We came looking for Light’s mother,” Jag explained.
“Oh, well, foolish boys, why didn’t you say so earlier? Sellyn left the day before last with a scouting party to retrieve a few things from her old home. She’s been living here with us for a while, now.”
Perfect…except for the fact that Faith, Finn, and Cam remained at the house. Two Humans and an Ulen. Hopefully the Malus with her were more of an ask questions first kind of people than the alternative.
Jag let out the longest sigh his lungs could hold as Light uttered a single word.
“Great.”
Chapter Twelve
Faith couldn’t sleep. Probably due to the fact she didn’t want to sleep, given the last dream she had. It was a whirlwind of nonsense, especially the last bit with the Dread King. Still, it didn’t stop a traitorous part of her from liking it.
She was so messed up. It was so wrong. It was literally the farthest thing she should want to do. He was the big bad of her story; she shouldn’t want to jump his bones.
And she sure shouldn’t want him to jump her bones.
Faith laid in the bed for the longest time, staring up at the ceiling. The luminescent flowers glowed from the open window in the side wall, yellow and orange mixing together. Every so often a stray insect would fly inside, grow confused there were no flowers, and then buzz back out.
One of the many things Faith liked about Earth was glass, windows especially. She did not find being one with nature fun. It was dirty and gross and involved bug things that looked too similar to spiders.
Spiders. She shivered. She did not like those creepy crawlies at all.
Since there were no clocks around, she didn’t know how much time had passed since she crawled into bed. Minutes? Hours? Another thing she didn’t like about this world. No stars, no moon, no clocks…the list could go on and on. She did feel like she was in a complaining mood, though she only wanted to complain about one thing.
Dracyrus.
How could she be so stupid? How could any part of her want to have him like that? It was just like telling a kid not to do something. They were more likely to do it because they were curious why they were told not to do it in the first place. When Christine told Faith not to touch the stove while she was cooking, the very first thing Faith did was touch the hot oven top. It hurt like a bitch and immediately blistered, but she then understood why she shouldn’t do it again.
Of course, with that example, it did kind of sound like she was saying she wanted to sleep with Dracyrus just to do it, and only after doing the dirty with him would she know why she shouldn’t.
She couldn’t win.
After laying there for a while longer, and after realizing she wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep, Faith rolled herself out of the stiff sheets, wandering barefoot through the house and to the back door. She did her best to tiptoe, to slowly open the door so it wouldn’t creak. She only opened it as much as she had to before slipping out and wandering to the field of flowers and the Second’s version of fireflies.
She spent nearly the entire day in the very same field, trying hopelessly to get the Ageless Blade off her back and into her hands. The stupid thing wouldn’t come. Her level of concentration didn’t matter; the way she touched it didn’t matter. She practically gave herself a migraine earlier when she tried to will it into existence. It just wasn’t working.
But why?
There had to be something she was missing, something important. It might have sunken into her skin like a Victus, but it was no Victus.
It wasn’t as if she could go around asking people what do to. The Elves had control of the Blade after the last Harbinger died. They were the only ones who might know how it worked, and she wasn’t on speaking terms with them—let alone able to walk in Springsweet without getting arrested or whatever it was Elves did—because of some baseless accusation of murder.
There was one other person who might know how it worked, one other being who might have the answers…
At least when her mind went to Dracyrus this time, it wasn’t for purely sexual reasons. Not at first, anyway.
Faith’s legs brushed up against the flowers. She stopped when she was completely surrounded by the glowing plants. Unlike their daytime behavior of snapping shut anytime something near them moved, their nighttime actions were the very opposite. They remained open, glowing, in spite of her moving against them and the insects mating around them. Their petals seemed harder, somehow.
She hated herself. Why couldn’t she think about the dumb Dracon without also thinking about how his ass looked in the waterworld?
And, anyway, as if Dracyrus would t
ell her how the Ageless Blade worked. She was supposed to use it against him. That’d be like a sports team calling fouls on their own players. It wasn’t done.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Faith sighed. She needed to get her act together. She needed to stop thinking about Dracyrus.
“Well, well, well. I wish I could say this is a surprise, but it would hardly be worth such a word,” a low, sneering voice seeped into her ears, causing her eyes to fly open. “What a quaint little home. Is this the dreary existence you wish you had? How pathetic.” Dracyrus stood less than ten feet from her in the field, glowering at her. He was here, but not really. His thick frame didn’t look quite solid enough.
It was just like before.
Except she wasn’t surrounded by Jag, Light, Cam and Finn. Faith was alone with him, something that, given her previous reactions to him and her latest dream, was a terrible thing. The only good aspect about this situation was he wasn’t truly here with her.
Swallowing, she managed to say, “I prefer high rises and neighbors that are so close they can hear you breathing through the walls.” Her wit was apparently not amusing to him, for all he did was frown deeper, sneer fiercer.
It was hard to imagine the Dracon before her staring at her naked body like she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, even harder to imagine him telling her she smelled magnificent.
Oh, God. She felt her cheeks flare up. It was a good thing it was dark, otherwise she’d show her embarrassment plain as day.
“You linger here,” Dracyrus spoke, stepping closer. “I cannot help but wonder if it is because you finally see how futile this chase is.”
“What can I say? I’m not always an eternal optimist.” Faith couldn’t stop herself from giving him some snark. She had to learn eventually when to give snark and when to hold back. Dracyrus was not a fan of any sort of humor, clearly.
Dracyrus narrowed his eyes. The pale scales dotting his face and encompassing his horns reflected the flowering light around him. With another step, he was directly before her. If he was here, he could easily touch her, hold her, kiss her…or, what was more likely, strangle her. “How is it possible you…” For the first time ever, it seemed the big, mighty Dracon was at a loss for words. No insult immediately spewing from his mouth.
He was kind of cute when he didn’t know what to say.
Damn it. Not a thought she should have.
“What?” Faith asked, moving her hands to her hips. “Ran out of insults? No more threats to say? And here I thought I’d never see the day.” She shook her head, carrying on with her spiel, “I’m disappointed in you, Dracyrus.”
“Your disappointment means nothing to me, though I do wonder—” There was a pause. “—what his disappointment will mean to you.” And then, like all evil villains often did, he smirked.
Faith spun to glance toward the house and found she wasn’t alone out here. Finn stood, head cocked, his arms crossed. He stood on the dirt patch that used to be the house’s little garden, his stare a hard one. With a quick glimpse to her back, she found Dracyrus was gone. It was just her and Finn.
And the small fact that he witnessed her talking to their enemy.
“Finn,” Faith’s voice came out quiet, so very unlike her. “How long have you…” She trailed off, not liking the anger dwelling in his expression as he stormed closer.
“Long enough. What the fuck was that?” he demanded, pointing to the now-empty field. “You better give me a damn good explanation for why you’re standing out here, alone, at night—and an even better one to explain why it sounded like you were having a conversation with Draconis.” He completely butchered the name, without a doubt on purpose, but Faith felt so guilty she couldn’t even laugh.
“It’s not what you think—he’s not even here.” Not a good argument, Faith, she told herself.
“Oh, so you were just talking to yourself then?” When she didn’t answer, Finn added, “It sure as shit sounded like you were talking to him. It sounded like a one-sided conversation that might happen in a looney bin back on Earth, but I know enough about the Second—and about you—to know you weren’t talking to yourself. You were talking to him.” He was practically whisper-yelling. Anything more and Cam might wake.
She so did not need Cam ganging up on her, too.
Shaking off the guilt she felt at being caught, Faith stormed up to him, whispering, “Look. It isn’t like I did it on purpose. Sometimes I just see him. He threatens me, I make a few jokes, and then he’s gone.”
“Oh, well if that’s all, I guess this is a huge misunderstanding, isn’t it?”
“Finn, I couldn’t help it. It’s like we’re connected. I couldn’t stop it even if I tried!”
He studied her, eyes dropping to her bare feet and slowly crawling up, lingering longer on certain places he shouldn’t, like her chest and her mouth. “Yeah, I can tell you’re real torn up about it. Wait a minute, you’re not. You’re only like this because you got caught. The last thing you looked while talking to him was guilty, or scared. God, Faith. He’d kill you if he had the chance. What is wrong with you?” His fury was palpable, and she flinched under his scrutiny.
“Finn, I—”
“You’re so fucking stupid, hiding something like this from everyone. What if he finds us? Finds you? What if you’re over here talking to him, keeping it to yourself, and he catches up and kills us all? What then? Unlike you, I don’t plan on dying here.”
“I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you guys, but how could I? Oh, what a lovely meal your latest catch was, Light. You want to know a secret? I can see the Dread King whenever I want. All I have to do is think real hard about him, and poof—he’s there. The awesome teddy bear has even been in my dreams!”
Finn’s anger only grew. “You’ve been dreaming about that pisshead?”
She glared at him, saying, “I also dreamt of you, shirtless, turning into Jag and a threesome between me, Light, and Cam. Clearly, I’m not in much control over my dreams.”
He was so mad at her he didn’t even blink at the shirtless comment, or the threesome bit. He fumed, “Don’t you think this is something you should’ve shared with us? Faith, this isn’t playtime. This is real. This is life or death. Do you want to die?”
Shaking her head, her shoulders slumped. “How can you even ask me that? Of course I don’t want to die. Who does?” Faith shrugged. “I made a mistake. I don’t know what else to tell you.” This damn argument was making her tear up.
She was eighteen. She should be able to argue without crying. It was a skill most adults seemed to have without an issue.
Finn’s expression softened a bit as he said, “You know I have to tell Cam, and the others when they get back.”
Her eyes widened, and before she knew what she was doing, she reached out to his arm, fingers wrapping around his forceps. “Please,” Faith practically begged, “don’t.”
He sighed. “I can’t keep this from them—”
The thought of everyone else so disappointed in her, as angry at her as Finn was, filled her mind. It was the last thing Faith needed. No, if anyone should break the news of how stupid she was, it should be her. “I’ll tell them.” When he gave her a dubious look, she added, “I will. I promise.”
“And why should I do what you want and wait?”
Okay. That—that Faith didn’t anticipate him saying. She blinked. “What?”
“Why should I keep your little secret? What do I get out of hiding something that could potentially be the—”
Faith held up a hand. She understood now. The bastard wanted something. The question was… “What do you want?”
“What are you willing to give me?”
“I don’t have anything here,” she said, rattling off, “and unless you want an old Pokemon card collection, I don’t have much at home, either.” What she neglected to see was the twinkle in his emerald gaze. It would’ve given her the only clue she needed to know just what the hell he meant.
F
inn spoke slowly, “You know I don’t want Pokemon cards.”
“Tell me,” she hissed, growing tired of this game, “what you want.” Faith glared up at him, unaware of how close he stood to her. She inhaled, not quite liking the direction this night took.
Damn. Did this boy always smell this good?
Finn lowered his head, whispering, “How about…” He held up a single finger. “…one kiss?”
A kiss? What were they in, sixth grade?
And, even if she was okay with trading a kiss for his lips to stay shut about this, she shouldn’t. Because she wasn’t with Finn. She was with Jag, Light, and Cam. Dating in general meant no kissing other guys.
Faith couldn’t agree, because it was wrong.
Noting her hesitation, Finn said, “I think your commitment to your boy toys is nice, but you are asking me to keep a secret from them, at least until you decide to tell them—which, how do I know you ever will? The dead king guy might find us, first.”
The dead king. If only Dracyrus was dead still.
“You are killing me,” she whined.
All he did was smile.
Letting out an exasperated groan, Faith muttered, “Fine. A quick one, no tongue.”
Finn nodded along. “I think I can agree to that.” Before she could hop up and get it over with, he moved closer, grabbing her by the waist, holding her a bit too hard against him. He was…a very strong one, wasn’t he? His muscles bulged beneath his black hunter’s uniform. She couldn’t escape his grip if she tried.
And, as horrible as it was, as bad as she was, she didn’t even wriggle once.
But she did lose track of her thoughts as she wondered how strong he truly was. Could he snap metal in half, lift a car with a single arm? With muscles like that, with the strength implant, he had to be capable of a lot of things.
“Now, no stiff lips,” Finn directed her, causing her to roll her eyes. What an ass. “Kiss me like you mean it, and I’ll keep your secret until he’s knocking at our door.”
The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3) Page 9
