Remedy Maker

by Sheri Fredricks

  There it was again. An irregular beat. At first hesitant, and then rushed. He silently cursed for not understanding more about Wood Nymph physiology. A deficiency he would remedy very soon. That goes to the top of my list of things to do.

  The uneven beat could be the reason for the drain on her physical strength. Until he researched her condition further, he’d keep the information to himself.

  Rhycious’s own heart grew heavy. As much as he’d like to chain the pixie to his side, he couldn’t offer her a future with him beyond next week. Not with his fucked-up head. But he would make damn sure the rest of her life would be a healthy one.

  It’s going to hurt like hell not having Patience in my life. The risk of him having another out-of-control flare-up and possibly hurting her—he’d never chance it. It was a gift from the gods that nothing had happened yet.

  His hand slid to the right of her sternum and cupped her soft weight, flicking his thumb over the stiffened tip.

  Beneath her lowered lashes, she watched him work magic on her full breast. A moan floated out between her parted lips, and her smile grew. The cool air teased her heated skin, tightening the nipple even more.

  He’d never tire of Patience and her sensual responses. Never.

  She giggled and wagged a finger at him. “Aren’t you supposed to temperature test my forehead?”

  “The accuracy is better the lower you go.”

  Two loud knocks interrupted his physical exam and irritation swept through him.

  Shit.

  Rhycious answered the door and growled his frustration, having forgotten about their dinner. He accepted a silver food tray from an older Centaur woman. Her dappled gray body leaned toward the scrawny side, hipbones prominent. She wore a fitted black server’s jacket that flared over a back in the beginning stages of sway.

  Before the server got more than a glimpse into their room with that craning neck of hers, he thanked her and toed the door closed.

  “That smells deliciamagous. What is it?” Patience swung her feet over the edge of the low bed and strolled over. Her hair hung with mussed waves over the front of her shoulder, hiding her nipple from view.

  Rhy’s hunger for her grew with every pull of the moon’s rotation, the instinct undeniable. He wanted to kiss every inch of her. Take his time and bring her pleasure, revel in his ability to do so.

  He set the tray on a small round table and handed Patience a monogrammed napkin. Two china plates puffed steam when he lifted their stainless steel covers.

  Stomach rumbling, Patience covered the sound with her hand. “I’m just drooling here,” she said, smacking her lips together. Other than a quick breakfast of bagels, neither of them had eaten all day.

  His mouth watered, too, at the delicious sight. Tender asparagus shoots drizzled with cream sauce, and grilled new potatoes seasoned with thyme. A French baguette sat next to a shallow dish of dipping oil, and eggplant parmesan steamed to the side. A separate plate of plump strawberries tempted with aphrodisiac splendor in melted chocolate.

  “I’d have been happy with a bacon double-cheeseburger, but this’ll do,” Rhy said, and grinned when Patience leaped into the chair he held for her.

  “I’ve never had a cheeseburger.” With closed eyes, she inhaled the aromas in a circular sweep, swallowing the effects of savory seasonings. She opened her napkin and set it in her lap. Her fork speared a quartered potato, and she slid the bite into her mouth. A look of rapture came over her and he thought her eyes would roll back in her head.

  “I’ll be sure to buy you a Big Mac in Willow Bay.”

  He cut a slice of succulent eggplant, the flesh tender, and dark skin firm. Before the purple wedge reached his mouth, however, Patience slapped the fork out of his hand. The utensil clattered onto his plate, chipping the gold pinstriped edge.

  With a word that sounded like blech, she spit out her mouthful of food.

  Bad manners, or is she feeling sick again?

  “Didn’t like it?”

  “Don’t eat your food.” She poked the chewed mess with her fork’s tines. “Something’s funky. It totally set fire to my tongue.”

  The elegantly set table with crystal glasses twinkled in the romantic atmosphere. Faucets in the diamond cut stemware split the light’s refraction.

  Skin formed on the asparagus’ cream, and wrinkled.

  “It could be the spices,” he suggested, watching her dissect her food.

  “No, spice didn’t wrong it up.”

  At first glance, the food appeared fine and smelled great. Hunger had blinded his caution. Rhycious pushed back from the table with enough force to knock his chair over, and threw the napkin on his plate. In two steps, he reached the door and yanked it open. The food server was long gone. Damn.

  A stall cleaner pushed a rattling cart down the hall, eyeing him with curiosity. He slammed the door and stalked back to their poisonous meal to glare at it. Hands on his hips, pissed off at his carelessness. A knot of pressure replaced his desire to eat. He was furious at his vulnerability, especially inside the palace. Savella lived with this type of threat three meals a day.

  “Are you all right?” At her nod, he said, “Rinse your mouth a few times in the bathroom. I want all the poison out.”

  Fuck. There wasn’t any place safe these days. Someone wanted him—or them—dead, and they would have been if it weren’t for Patience’s Wood Nymph palate, which was tuned-in to toxic plants.

  Score one for the pixie.

  Rhy stacked the plates onto the carrying tray, and then moved his backpack from the floor to the table. He unzipped the main compartment and sorted through the plastic baggies. Finding the one he needed, he removed a few dried leaves.

  Patience returned from rinsing her mouth and he handed the herbs to her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Purple sage. Chew it up, and spit it out. It’s an antiseptic that’ll finish cleansing your mouth.”

  Her face scrunched up when the sharp taste hit, but she took her remedy like a good patient. “Oh gawds, this tastes suckish.”

  She went to spit out the leaves. When she came back, he said, “I hate to say this, but we need to leave. I don’t know who we’re up against here. We’ll be safer away from the palace.” I can’t protect you when I don’t know who to protect you from.

  Backpack slung over his shoulder, he and Patience left the stallroom and navigated the maze of halls toward the courtyard’s hub of activity.

  Nobody followed as they rounded yet another corner—the last corridor connected to the balcony walkway.

  “Rhycious.” Aleksander jogged toward them, smiling. Tattoos of double row barbed wire pumped on his bicep, gold neck links bounced on the black tee he wore, and his rubber-soled boots were silent footfalls on the floor. “Leaving so soon?” He stopped next to a wall display of antique weaponry.

  “We don’t like the food.” Rhy shrugged the pack higher on his shoulder.

  “And some hard cuz just dissed me.” Patience added.

  Alek’s dark brows lowered over his concerned eyes and fixed on her face. “What happened?”

  Patience shifted her weight. “In a word—poison.”

  Hollow clops of hooves, followed by a closing door, echoed from around the corner. Slow and unrushed, the plodding drew closer.

  Alek gazed around. With a nod, he continued with them down the hall. Half a corridor’s length later, the Kempor nudged Rhycious’s arm. “I take it you’re both all right?”

  At his nodding answer, Alek asked, “Where do you go from here?”

  Before answering the question, Rhycious took a few steps. Patience looked at him, obviously waiting to hear his response, too. Initially, he’d suspected Aleksander had been involved in Patience’s kidnapping. His friend had proved loyal.

  Odd though. Once again, Alek turns up after another life-threatening incident.

  Coincidence?

  Distrust shadowed his mind, and whether it was true or not, when it came to h
is pixie, he trusted no one.

  Gods, he didn’t need another enemy to dodge. A supply of allies would be nice for a change. Yeah, I’ll pray to Bacchus about that.

  “We leave the palace for the safety of Boronda,” Rhycious answered vaguely.

  “Okay,” Alek agreed. “Let me grab my bag and—”

  “Alone.” He waited for Alek’s reaction, praying he wouldn’t read suspicion in the male’s face. Carefully trimmed and meticulously groomed, the dark goatee framed the Kempor’s frowning mouth. “I need your help here, Alek. Someone tried to kill us. I want to know why. With Patience and I out of the palace, whoever it was is bound to get sloppy. You need to be there when that happens.” His hand at Patience’s elbow, he guided them toward the staircase.

  Alek nodded, begrudged in agreement. “You’re right. Keep Patience safe, and I’ll talk to Hippy. She’ll need to update Savella.”

  “Glad you see it my way.”

  Aleksander stopped and stared Rhy hard in the eye. Unhurried, his hand moved to his belt and popped the clip on the knife guard.

  Rhycious flicked his gaze to the weapon, then back Alek’s face. The world suddenly became very still—his breathing decreased, vision tunneled, and activity stirred in slow motion. He waited for Aleksander’s next move, an indication of how to react.

  “I get it,” Alek said. “I don’t like it, but I get it.” He glanced at Patience before pulling his knife from the leather sheath, offering it Rhy handle first. “You’ll need something out there.”

  Rhy relaxed his shoulders and inhaled a cleansing breath. Because he wasn’t in the mood, his smile stretched slowly. “I’m fully loaded, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Waz going on?” Patience wrinkled her brow. She must have sensed the apprehension, because she hooked her hand in the crook of his arm.

  “Nothing, polytima. Alek is walking us to the archway.”

  Aleksander held Rhy’s gaze before raising his shoulders and brows in a shrug. “Come on, then.” He continued down the hall. “I’ll show you out.”

  * * *

  The end of her tongue was numb, but at least the burning had stopped. Rhycious had enough on his mind without having to worry about her, so Patience kept her problems to herself.

  Vertical lines deepened between Aleksander’s brows. Since her kidnapping, a tension wrench had cranked down, making things between Alek and Rhy increasingly edgy.

  What was the deal? Patience gave it a mental shove. Let them have their private macho spat.

  Farther down the hall, double doors opened inward. Voices spilled out, adding to the hum from the first floor, which remained out of view.

  A huge centaur in his black equine form strode out. Thick legs with feathered fetlocks of a draft horse stepped onto the center grass tread running the length of the hall. A long ebony cloak flowed from his wide shoulders to his sweeping tail. Deep red satin with hand-stitched embroidery edged the garment’s hem. A dark beard flowed to his chest. On his head he wore a black skullcap, leaving thick dark hair, streaked gray with age, to hang down his back.

  The man spoke, gestured with a regal bejeweled hand to someone behind him, and then caught sight of their threesome approaching. His scowl, darker than those of the unfriendly guards, deepened to a pulsating scathe. Angry waves of hostility surged off him, his dagger eyes staring at her.

  Patience felt her steps falter under the condemning glare, her courage leaching out.

  “Who’s that?” she whispered.

  Instead of answering her, Alek greeted the ominous man with a dip of his head. “Templar Khristos.” He whispered to them, “Keep walking.”

  Queen Savella, trailed closely by Hippy, drifted out of the meeting room behind Khristos. Her eyes brightened and she smiled at Patience.

  In polite response, Patience smiled back, but the Centaur High Priest mistakenly thought her smile for him. His malevolence worsened like the sky before a tornado touched down.

  No way did she want to be around when things came unglued.

  Aleksander paused when their group came abreast of the others, but he gave Patience a subtle push when she otherwise would have stopped.

  “See you later, Rhycious. We’ll catch up.” Alek played the farce out. “Hope you’re feeling better, Patience.”

  I’ll feel better once we’re on the leafy side of freedom. Rhy slipped a possessive arm around her waist and she gratefully accepted his confident strength.

  Passing the assembly of notables, Rhycious nodded once to the dark Centaur. “Good day, Khristos.” Without breaking stride, he formally dipped his head toward Savella. “Your Majesty.”

  Khristos lowered his chin to his chest, his beard resting upon a neck chain where a jewel encrusted medallion hung. The High Priest said nothing. His brooding eyes watched them pass.

  Old insecurities bubbled up from her past. Get me out of the palace from hell, Rhy. Now!

  Queen Savella remained quiet, but her knowing eyes took everything in. Her Majesty caught Patience’s eye as she and Rhy continued past. Savella made a strange motion to Hippolyte with her thumb and fingers, out of sight from the priest, and then flashed a quick smile again.

  Hippy stared at Rhycious, the two of them having some sort of five-second silent discussion. She nodded imperceptibly once, and flicked her eyes toward Khristos.

  Patience did her best to keep up with Rhy’s longer strides and hurried down the stairs he took two at a time. When they reached the main floor, she inhaled deeply to catch her breath.

  “I don’t think your priest digs on me.” She ponytailed her hair back but didn’t have anything to tie it with, so she let the mass drop again. “We totally dissed Queen Savella and Hippy.”

  “Hippy’s not stupid, she knows something’s up. After Alek tells them what’s going on, they’ll understand.” Rhy looped his arm through the hanging pack strap and settled the bag comfortably on his back. Pulling the length of his hair free, he said, “And you’re in good company. Khristos doesn’t approve of me either.”

  They crossed the grass atrium and went straight into the exit tunnel. She barely had time to register Rhycious’s remark, before the sight of a lone Centaur near the fountain caught her eye. He strummed a guitar with a modern beat. His body was huge, larger than Rhy’s, the reddish hair worn windblown style. Focused on his music, head bent toward the instrument, the musician didn’t notice their rush to leave.

  Rhy’s warm hand wrapped her elbow, and then slid down to twine with her fingers. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “That boom ting is the best you’ve had all day.”

  Not long after entering the dim passageway, they stood outside in the weak sun. For whatever reason, the first trek through the tunnel had seemed to take forever. Surprised, but relieved, Patience breathed in the essence of Boronda. The fresh scents of pine and wildflowers lifted her depressed spirits, setting free her disheartened conditionitis.

  Across the meadow at the tree line, Patience stopped for a breather next to Rhycious. Her legs wanted to fold up; resting would have been supreme. Since it would only add to Rhy’s pile of stress, she settled for hugging his waist instead, and pressing her cheek to his chest.

  His pec muscles jumped beneath her touch, and a low chuckle rumbled. “Happy now?” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged tight.

  Warmth curled inside her, chasing the palace gloom away. “I’m totally kev’ed up, thanks to you.”

  “Let’s head home and plan what we’ll do next.”

  Where will we crash? Your place or mine? “That sounds majestik to me. I’m all for shakin’ the royal pad.” Can I get take-out along the way?

  Shadows lengthened and they said little while backtracking their way through the forest. Little acrobatic squirrels followed along, leaping from branch to branch. Colorful birds swooped after insects, singing mating calls, eager for the Festival of the Trees.

  Arriving at the aspen grove, Rhycious leaned on a log and handed her an energy bar from his pack.


  “Sorry, it’s all I have.”

  “I wouldn’t give a rip if it were honey covered in dirt at this point.” She tore the wrapper open and bit into the chewy bar. Hunger made a delicious seasoning—granola never tasted so good. “Where to from here, stud muffin?”

  Her butt settled next to his, and he passed a flask of water. Smiling her appreciation, she took a sip. Cool water slid down her throat, chilling her.

  “I know you need to rest inside your tree, so I’ll take you there before I head to my cabin.”

  Her heart bottomed out at his words. Patience passed back the canteen, watching the muscles work in his neck as he drank. She stomped the dizzy current racing through her, forcing herself to remember she lived on borrowed time.

  “I need to check on a few patients and refill the herbs in my pack.” He twisted the lid on the flask and dropped it in his bag.

  Sadness crept into her thoughts and dimmed the warmth of the late afternoon sun. She wanted to spend more time with him. In a way, she identified with that water bottle of his—screwed down and packed away, retrieved only when needed.

  Reality check. She pushed off the log to put distance between them.

  Damnit. She should have guarded her heart. Rhycious hadn’t lied to her, or offered promises of a future together. That dream had been hers alone.

  Patience’s heart ached, cracking like spring ice in the Boronda Mountains. Mixed feelings surged, and the sudden need to be alone propelled her into action.

  “You know, I’m cool in this sector of Boronda, so you don’t need to cruise me home, true?” She scraped the hair off her forehead, taking a few steps backward. “I’ll catch you in a few days.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. What’s going on?”

  After taking several strides in the direction she hoped led home, Patience hesitated and turned back, pushing more hair out of her eyes. As if he didn’t know. She knew a ditch effort when she saw one, and his effort was exemplary. She ignored the lines of confusion that deepened along his brows and under his eyes.