Not Emma’s healer, but Isabeau. “How do you know her?”
“Emma managed my placement here,” he said slowly. “Isabeau handled the paperwork.”
Neck tense, Dillon struggled to maintain his glamour. “What did you say to her?”
The male’s face turned red.
Warmth trickled down Dillon’s spine. He lifted a hand. Still pale. His glamour was holding. He touched his nape. His fingers came away stained. It figured. “I meant the last thing you said.”
“Oh.” He relaxed. “I asked if you were the one.” He hastened to add, “Isabeau and Lindsay had an inside joke. It was a male’s name, I could tell, but they’d never own up to whose it was.”
Heat singed Dillon’s cheeks. He’d been a joke? After the stunt she’d pulled for Emma…
Isabeau popped her head through the slit, and her eyes narrowed on the legionnaire. “What Alexander neglected to mention is you weren’t the joke. Lindsay’s reaction to you was what I found funny. You know how frustrating halflings are. They’re quick-tempered and cause damage when they’re upset they’ll regret later. Whenever Lindsay struggled with her lessons, I had only to mention your name and she would explode.” Color smudged her cheeks. “You know she was raised in an outland mine? Her language…some of the words she knows…some of the names she called you…they were quite inventive.” She stepped outside and rested her palms lightly on his chest. “I admit, I laughed. Then she laughed. By the end of it, she was calm, no damage done, and ready to try again.” Her fingers tapped against him. “It sounds bad, and I was wrong to-”
Dillon exhaled. This he could handle. This was a mess of his own making. “You owe me.”
“Did you miss the part where I implied it was your fault for being rude?”
“No. Lindsay has reason to dislike me,” Dillon admitted. Isabeau smirked. “Okay, she has reason to hate me.” He covered her hands. “You, on the other hand, took advantage of me. You owe me.”
Her mouth fell open. “How did I take advantage of you?”
“I was in a lot of pain.” He swallowed his chuckle. “I said and did a lot of things I’ll regret.”
“Things you will regret?” Her nail jabbed him. “Meaning you don’t regret them now.”
Damn. She had him there. A wise male would stop before she pointed out the incident that wrote him into Lindsay’s bad book happened the day after they met. Before his leg was injured.
“Are y’all standing on the porch all day or coming inside?” Mason called.
Reality intruded, shattering the moment, and Dillon regretted watching Isabeau’s smile fade.
“Let’s not keep him waiting.” Dillon took her arm and guided her inside.
Her mood shifted the instant they crossed the threshold.
Isabeau put space between them, and he didn’t have to glance over to know her stubborn chin would be angled up and her shoulders set back. With a sigh, he let her face off with Mason, knowing it was better for them both if she cleared the air first before they got down to business.
Mason paused from shoving clothes into a backpack. “Hey there, Miss Isabeau.” He nodded at Dillon, gaze snagging on his arm. “I see you two have been practicing your spell crafting.” He flashed a megawatt smile at Isabeau, but it was shades dimmer than it once was. “I hear you’re going to set me up with a tracking spell? Cool. I’ve never seen magic used outside of glamour.”
“Mason,” she said, “I owe you an apology.” He started to speak. She cut him off and continued, “Please—let me say this. I owe you this much.” He gave a terse nod. “I can’t let you pretend nothing happened, when I hurt you, badly. You trusted me, and I abused that trust. What I did—it was…” She gulped a steadying breath. “I’m sorry, and I don’t expect your forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness isn’t the issue. It’s yours. Trust, now that I can’t give you.” He suppressed a wince as he shrugged. “I’ve known you a while, and even though I don’t know you well, I do know Emma. She trusted you, and, because of that, I did too. I knew when it happened you must have had your reasons, and it looks like I was right.” He paused. “Dillon told me about your little girl. It’s a fucked-up situation you’re in, and the legion will help you out any way we can, okay?”
Isabeau murmured vague thanks that made Dillon turn.
“So, how does this work?” Mason clapped his hands. “Do you need anything from me?”
“It depends. Spells are stronger the more layers of connection you build between the magic and the bearer. Do you have a small item of importance, or it can be symbolic, that you wouldn’t mind parting with?” She added, “I doubt what you choose will be harmed, but blood does stain.”
“Ah. Gotcha. Not a problem.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew an aged knife.
“That’s Grandpa Ed’s knife.” Dillon recognized the worn deer antler casing.
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a minute. “I got a pass from Harper. I know we aren’t supposed to bring items from Earth to Askara, but…this is all I’ve got left of the old man. I didn’t want to leave it at home. You know how forgetful Mom is. She’d toss it during one of her spring-cleaning fits, and there I’d be.” His voice thickened. “I figured it’d see more use here anyway. As long as the spell won’t hurt it, this knife’s the best token I’ve got for you.”
“Once the spell fades, you can wipe the runes from the blade.” She accepted the knife with a gentle touch that showed proper respect to a good man, long gone from this realm or the next. It took trial and error until she figured out which silver stub held the blade. Once she found it, two tries past the bottle opener, she reached for Dillon’s wrist. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
“It’s either you or me, and it’s not you.” He offered his arm. “Take what you need.”
“What about me?” Mason’s brow furrowed. “It’s my knife, my connection. Would using my blood strengthen the spell?” Isabeau’s hesitation answered him. “I don’t mind.” His arm shot out.
“Tell me you aren’t trying to protect me,” Dillon groused. “It’s a pocket knife, not a sword.”
“Fine. I’m not trying to protect you.” Mason grinned. “I’m trying to get felt up by Isabeau.”
The knife wobbled in her grip as she blinked between them.
Dillon snorted. “Nice try.” He dared Isabeau to disagree with a look. “She’s off limits.” Her quick blush made him wish he’d tacked on something more permanent, more specific, more his.
“Don’t let him get away with that.” Mason winked. “Tell him it’s a two-way street, darlin’.”
Ignoring their banter, she found Mason’s washing bowl and cleaned his blade, giving her an excuse to turn her back on them, and on Dillon’s claim. Not a claim. That’s her call, remember?
Yeah, he did. His problem wasn’t that she planned to claim him but that she seemed resolved not to. Contrary male that he was, his ego was bruised to realize he had done everything but stamp his name on her ass. Uriah had that forge and hot pokers at the ready… He shook his head. Insanity.
The female was driving him out of his ever-loving mind. Why else was he half-wishing she was the one biting back the urge to claim him? To etch her name in his skin by ink, fire or claw?
Yep. Pure insanity.
Or worse. Maybe it was love.
I was cautious about piercing Mason’s skin. Unsure how thick he layered his glamour, I had to go slow and be prepared to work blinded. Slicing through glamour was an acquired talent, one I hadn’t mastered until I went to work for Emma. Evanti illusion was tangible, but some wielded finer control than others. For instance, Dillon could reveal select parts of his body while keeping the rest hidden beneath his human façade. Others lacked his skill because of the control required.
I’d once had a patient arrive at the consulate with a knife handle protruding from his shoulder. I’d been puzzled at the smooth skin underneath and the lack of blood. Emma explained camouflage is a survival instinct for Evanti. The male had been
injured during a protest, so he donned his glamour and made his escape among the throng of fleeing Askarans. Once he reached me, his glamour was stuck. Emma had knocked him out cold so I could see his wound to operate.
I worried Mason’s injury might affect his control, but as I held his wrist, magic evaporated and I was left holding an ebony forearm attached to a fair-skinned elbow. “Dillon trained you?”
“Is it obvious?” He chuckled. “I told you he liked some kids. I happened to be one of them.”
Fresh guilt rose up my throat. More than a friend, I’d hurt someone Dillon must love. “This will sting for a minute.” I put more pressure on the blade and let it sink deep enough to give me what was required. Closing my eyes, I began a slow chant while marking runes onto the knife’s blade with my little finger. I knew the moment the spell caught. The blade began humming in my hand. “Here. Do you feel that?” I let him make a fist and feel the low vibrations. “It’s working.”
“How can I tell direction?” He held his arm out, turning, yelping at the northernmost point.
Dillon braced on my shoulder. “I guess that’s how.”
Mason set the knife down and eyed it warily. “I guess so. Does it always do that?”
“The combination of your blood and your token made for a more powerful connection than I anticipated.” I laughed at his shock. “Sorry, I should have said it was possible. You’re all right?”
“I guess we don’t have to worry about me getting lost,” he joked. “Always a bonus.”
I returned his smile. It was impossible not to. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you leave.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at Dillon.
Dillon cuffed Mason on the back of the head. “Stop smiling at her like that.”
“You see how he is?” Mason sighed dramatically. “I ask you, how is it fair he gets the girl?”
“Enough with the bellyaching,” Dillon said, running a tired hand through his hair. “We need to see you off so we can get on our way.” He tossed him the knife. “Do you have any questions?”
“I think I’ve got it.” He pocketed the knife and hooked his backpack over one shoulder with a grunt before changing sides. “Follow the tracker. Find Phineas’s base of operations. Report back with its location.” He frowned. “What about the commune, Daeza? If I get the chance to—?”
“No.” Dillon’s command was firm. “Phineas is the one we need. Daeza can wait.”
“Not for too long.” Mason eyed the tent’s flap. “That female’s due any day now.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. You can’t get near that mountain. The Evanti there would kill you the second they realized you weren’t…” Dillon’s gaze cut to me. “I’ll handle them, her, later.”
“Fair enough.” Mason patted his pocket. “No offense, but if that’s it, I’m heading out. That knife is like having a bee trapped in my pocket.” He nodded to me. “Miss Isabeau, have a care with him, will you?” He slapped Dillon on the back. “And you—just don’t let your guard down, okay?”
I gave a mute nod. Dillon deserved the warning, just as I didn’t doubt he wouldn’t heed it.
Mason ushered them from the tent as he tied and knotted the flap. “See you when I see you.”
“Two days, tops,” Dillon warned.
Two days. Would this finally end in so little time?
Chapter Fourteen
Lindsay was pacing outside Dillon’s tent upon our return. When she spotted me, she opened her arms and I walked into them, dragging Dillon along behind me. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried.” She hugged me until I gasped. “I started thinking about that man at the market. What if he saw you leaving on your own? What if he came back for you? So here I am. I had to know.” She held me at arm’s length. “You’re all right, aren’t you? It’s all right I’m here?”
A mass of hard male brushed against my back. His curiosity hummed through the air.
“You’re a dear friend to worry.” I patted her. “Dillon said you left the Lowndes in charge?”
“Only for the night,” she assured me. “I’m heading back first thing in the morning.”
“That’s good.” I swallowed when Dillon squeezed my shoulder. “I—I’m glad you came.”
Lindsay glared from me to Dillon and back. “Your patient looks well enough.”
“He is. Well, I mean.” I smiled until my cheeks hurt.
“Good.” She brightened. “Then you can return to the consulate with me.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Dillon’s fingers tightened. “Isabeau has decided to remain at the colony for a few extra days.” He must have smiled because she flinched. “Sorry about that.”
She frowned at me. “Isabeau?”
“He’s right. I have a couple of things to wrap up before—” I exhaled. I owed Lindsay the truth. At least if I told her now, I could face her rather than sending a letter from my cell. Regardless of Dillon’s intentions, I didn’t doubt Harper would want his justice. I knew I wanted mine. “I have to tell you something.” I took her hands. “Try not to get too upset. Everything will be all right.”
“You didn’t, did you?” Her expression crumpled. “You couldn’t have. I won’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry?” I elbowed Dillon out of harm’s way. “What do you think I’ve done?”
She pointed. “You mated him. I can tell.” Her eyes narrowed. “He’s smiling.”
Smug satisfaction radiated from him. I elbowed him again, harder this time. “No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?” Her shoulders slumped. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Isabeau, are you sure?” His lips brushed my ear.
I turned my head, and he kissed me with enough force to rock me on my heels. “It’s…complicated.”
He nodded, seeming to accept my answer. For now.
“I don’t understand.” She withdrew. “Does this mean you’re not returning to the consulate?”
“I honestly don’t know.” I leaned into Dillon for support. “I’ve done some bad things, and I have to help make them right.” The lie was mostly true. “I’ll have to be punished for what I did.”
He tensed behind me, one hand digging into my hip to keep me close. “I told you, I’ll—”
“No. I can’t let you step between me and Harper.” I wasn’t worth the loss of their friendship.
“He’ll understand.” Dillon kept his voice low.
“Why will Harper be mad at you?” Lindsay glanced between us.
“I took something that didn’t belong to me.” I kept my tone soft, my words calm. “Now I’ve lost it, and I have to get it back. If I can’t find it, Harper will be upset. He should be. It was his.”
“Does this have anything to do with that male at the market?” Her voice sharpened. “It’s not your fault you were attacked. If Harper’s whatever-it-is was stolen, it’s his fault. It’s not yours.”
“She was attacked?” Dillon stepped between me and Lindsay. “By what male? When?”
“The morning before she left for the colony.” Lindsay glanced at me and pressed her lips into a stubborn line I recognized too well. He’d pry no more information from her on the matter.
He faced me. “Isabeau, I’m trying to help you. You know I am. Tell me what male.”
Possibilities for escape flickered through my mind but scattered on the winds.
The time for truth had come. Days remained on my deadline. Desperation made me believe Roland would honor his word, but I knew him too well. So I had a choice to make. Trust the one male who believed in me, or lose him forever. Tell him what I’d done, all of it, or let him learn I had fewer morals than he credited to me. I rubbed my hands down my face, felt his stare fixated.
My daughter deserved a champion. If I lost him to the truth, well, I had memories to last me.
I didn’t recognize my voice. “We need to go someplace private.”
He grasped my upper
arm and dragged me through the sea of tents. His grip hurt, but I kept my complaints to myself. Lindsay dogged our hurried steps, following us inside the empty clinic.
“Find somewhere else to be for a while,” he barked at the healers.
Both males jumped at the sound of his voice, then scattered outside, leaving us three alone.
“Sit.” Dillon indicated a stool.
I did, and he towered over me.
He pointed a warning finger at Lindsay. “You, get out.”
Her snarl was his only warning before she charged. He sidestepped her. His stance widened, and I saw things ending worse than I’d ever imagined. I leapt to my feet and stood before Dillon with my arms outstretched. Lindsay had turned, charged again. Registering me, she skidded left.
“Move,” she ordered. “This is between him and me, and he’s had it coming.”
“No.” I shrugged Dillon off when he tried to move me. “This is my fault. I won’t see either of you hurt. Please, Lindsay.” I indicated the stool I had vacated. “Sit. You should hear this too.”
Frustration bled from Dillon, but I was about to wound him deeper.
“Can you sit too?” I indicated a second stool. He ignored it, leaning against the wall instead.
“Start talking.” He folded his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been attacked?”
“It wasn’t like that—not exactly.” The familiar excuse tumbled out. “He didn’t mean…”
“Your face was bleeding,” Lindsay snapped. “You were hurt.”
A tic worked in Dillon’s jaw. “Your partner, I take it? The one you don’t have.”
“Yes, but he’s not my partner.” I covered my mouth with my hand to hold in the words.
“Who was he? If he’s not your partner, then why the hell was he beating you?” He prowled closer. “Better yet, why did you let him? He laid his hands on you and you let him walk away?”
“You don’t understand.” I held my ground. “I had no choice.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced. “You have to tell me the truth. All of it.” His gaze cut to Lindsay. “There are…extenuating circumstances…” Then back to me. “This won’t work if you don’t tell me everything. You must know that, right?”
Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 Page 17
