“Oh,” she said, her voice very small. “I have a feeling I don’t want to hear this.” The almond she had just swallowed seemed to stick in her throat. She folded the package, put the remaining nuts in the shopping bag at her feet and drank part of a bottle of water before capping it and throwing it back in the bag.
“I have a feeling you’re right. But you have to hear it. If Keith said anything about you, anything at all, you’re not safe. Can you guarantee he didn’t before you made him take the binding oath?”
She squirmed, leaden with the return of fear. “He said he had mentioned me but hadn’t said much. It makes sense if he hadn’t. He would have wanted to try to control how things went down.”
“But try this thought out,” said Dragos. “He also would have had to be pretty damn convincing to someone in order to get that charm. Do you know how many people could make something like that, something with the strength to hold against my strongest spells?”
“I’m guessing by how this conversation is going, not very many,” she muttered.
“Again, you’d be right. Offhand, I can think of three.” The manacle on her leg loosened. He rubbed her thigh. “See what I’m getting at?”
Following instinct, she grasped his hand between hers. He allowed her to hold it in her lap. “Who are they?”
“A very old witch in Russia. The Vampyre Queen in San Francisco is a sorceress. And the Dark Fae King.”
“Shit.” Shit, shit, shit.
“I have people doing research right now to see if there might be someone else who could pull off a charm strong enough to find my hoard. Right now, it looks like there isn’t. The witch is pretty indifferent to things that happen outside of her neighborhood. I don’t see her as likely. And the Vampyre Queen is a friend of sorts, or at least an ally, but the Dark Fae King?” Dragos shook his head with a grim smile. “Urien hates me beyond anything else. It just so happens that for the last two hundred years I’ve had something he desperately wants, and I’m not letting him get his hands on it. He wouldn’t hesitate to level the continent if he thought it would take me down too. You’d be nothing but a small bump in his road.”
From what little she knew of the Fae, there were two Courts, one Dark and one Light, and more often than not they were fighting each other over something. The Light Fae were ruled by a queen. Urien ruled the Dark Fae. He could be the nasty Power that had manipulated Keith behind the scenes.
She focused on the hand she held in her lap. It was such a big, strong hand. His arm was a tree trunk. She realized she was petting him, stroking his long fingers with her own.
“My people are very good. I don’t think you would be able to get far anyway, but you’ve proved to be surprisingly resourceful,” he said. He could be many things—seductive, coaxing, quiet—but this capacity for gentleness surprised her. “And on the off chance you did manage to get away, I would find you again. But you would be in danger until I did, so how about that promise?”
“Okay,” she said.
“Good girl.” His hand tightened on hers and then he pulled away.
They fell into silence. Sometime later, when the sky had lightened to predawn, the headlights behind them flashed, and the car that had been following pulled away. She supposed that meant they had crossed out of the Elven demesne.
After a while her eyelids drooped again. She didn’t think she could fall sleep, but two two-hour stretches and an afternoon nap wasn’t enough rest, since she hadn’t slept a full night through for a while.
She rubbed her temples and said, “One of these days, I’m going to get a real meal and a real night’s sleep.”
Dragos said, “I told Rune to find someone who could cook the kind of food you eat.”
Despite herself, she had to smile. He made vegetarianism sound so foreign, like cooking dog food. “That was very thoughtful of you, thank you.” She had a brief struggle between pride and desire, and desire won. She put her head against his arm.
It was wrong. It was foolish. She shouldn’t take such comfort from the hard, muscled warmth she leaned against. And the last thing she should do is start to rely on it.
He cupped her head and then focused again on driving. She dozed.
Some indefinable time later, she came alert to a vague sense of anxiety. It strengthened as she straightened and looked around. The morning light was stronger, although the sun had not yet appeared at the horizon. The passing scenery was whipping by. She glanced at the speedometer. They were traveling close to 110 miles an hour.
She looked at Dragos. His body was relaxed and he drove with complete competence, but his dark face was fierce. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s found us. We’re being tracked. I don’t know if we can outrun it, but we’re giving it a shot.”
Even knowing it was useless, she couldn’t help but look around. She also opened her senses wide, straining to understand what she was picking up. Comprehension eluded her. She had never before experienced what she was sensing.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t understand what I’m feeling,” she said.
His eyebrows rose. “Try to describe it.”
“That’s just it; I don’t know.” She shrugged, feeling inadequate. “It—it doesn’t feel good. It’s like a feeling of dread, knowing something bad is near. Don’t you feel it?”
“No,” he said. “You’re describing something different than the spell that has locked on to us. The feeling may be connected to your Wyr blood.”
“Where are we?”
“The next big city is Fayetteville. If we get there, we’re going to change course.”
If we get there? He sounded so calm. She gripped her seat belt.
What came next happened so fast. At a blind curve, a large vehicle roared down on them. Dragos swerved hard, holding the car in tight control. But just then another vehicle came from ahead on the right.
The passenger’s side. Light blinded her.
Dragos gave one last vicious yank at the wheel. The tires screamed as the car went into a spin. Everything whirled. Then the oncoming vehicle was about to impact the driver’s side. He threw his torso over hers, jamming her head into the hollow of his neck.
A horrendous noise as everything—
SEVEN
Pain woke her up. Her body was twisted at an uncomfortable angle. She was surrounded by jagged metal and trapped under a heavy weight.
She groaned.
“Shh,” Dragos whispered. “It’s all right. You’re going to be all right.”
She tried to take a deep breath and couldn’t.
“I can’t breathe,” she whimpered. “I can’t move my legs.”
“We’ve been in a wreck, Pia. You’re pinned in, but I’m going to get you out. For now you must listen to me. Don’t move. Can you do that for me? Just for a little while?”
His voice wove into her and brushed aside her panic. He was beguiling her into calming down. Someday she was going to have words with him about messing with her head. Right now didn’t seem like the time. She tried shallow breaths and mouthed, “Okay.”
“There’s a brave girl,” he soothed.
The heavy weight on her chest lifted briefly. Metal groaned. It was a terrible sound. Pain seared her legs and back. She cried out, and the world grayed over.
Dragos cursed a steady stream of vitriol as Pia lost consciousness again. The impact had been so violent the car was an unrecognizable heap of twisted metal. Most creatures could not have survived the crash. If he had been less than he was, if he hadn’t recovered enough from the Elven poison, if he had not thrown himself over Pia and pushed out with his Power to cover them both, she would have been crushed in an instant.
They were surrounded by shadows. He ripped the collapsed air bag to shreds and threw the pieces out the little twist of space that had been the front passenger’s window. Then he snapped her seat belt. He glared around as the shadows crept closer. He bared his teeth and growled a warning, and the shadows
paused. Over the burnt rubber and gasoline smells, the stink of Goblin made his nostrils flare. Soon the Goblins began to creep closer again, their coarse features coming visible in the predawn.
They thought they had him pinned. They were right.
His own body had taken damage, various contusions and cuts, but he ignored it. For him, the injuries were minor. If he had been alone, he would have ripped his way out of the wreck and done a WWF SmackDown on their ugly asses. But if he did that he could do incalculable damage to Pia, maybe kill her. He would have to be very careful in working to free her from the wreckage. That would take time. She was so much more fragile than he.
The Goblins grew bolder. They were misshapen creatures, gray-skinned and brutish with inhuman strength. They were one of the few Elder Races that could not maintain some kind of glamour to make them more palatable for coexisting with humans. For that reason they spent most of their time in Other lands, where magic was stronger, humankind was the rarity and certain technologies such as electrical appliances and modern weaponry wouldn’t work with any degree of safety or reliability.
He expanded his senses and found a passageway nearby that led to a pocket of Other land. Big surprise.
He turned his attention back to Pia. The wreckage had wrapped them together like a ghoulish present. He was twisted at the waist, his torso covering hers. Her seat had broken. She was lying partially in what had been the backseat, while the front of the car had collapsed on her legs.
He wiggled his left arm free and reached behind him to grasp the steering column, which was pressing against his left lower kidney. Bracing himself with his right arm, he pushed.
Careful. Metal groaned and the column eased away a few inches. He stopped before he wanted to, so he could check if shifting the column would make something else pinch down on Pia. He didn’t sense any further collapse. Good enough. He tried the same with the roof crumpled over his back and gained a little more room for them.
Goblins called to one another in their guttural language. One came too close. Grinning, it poked a serrated sword at him through the crunched window hole.
Dragos grabbed the sword. He punched his other arm out the hole. He locked his hand around the Goblin’s throat and crushed it while the creature choked and kicked. He let go. The Goblin crumpled to the ground, claws digging at its ruined neck as it died. The other Goblins watched as their comrade kicked out his life but made no move to try to help him.
How fucking charming. Ignoring his bleeding fingers, he pulled the sword into the car. The other Goblins snarled but kept well out of his reach.
He wedged the sword near his hand and turned his attention back to Pia, ignoring when the ruined car lurched. The Goblins lifted the wreckage onto a flatbed with them still inside.
At least she was breathing easier. Contusions, cuts and bruises mottled her face. The shirt she wore like a jacket was cut and damp with blood in places. Always pale, to his grim gaze she looked too white in the dirty morning light. A delicate tracery of blue veins was visible under the fine skin at her temple.
The flatbed truck lurched into motion, turned off the highway road and cut across country. Armed and armored Goblins jogged alongside and behind, keeping them surrounded. They traveled toward the passageway that would lead them to the Other land.
Dragos scanned down her body with Power, paying close attention to her spine and legs. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found them intact. He’d managed to throw enough cover over her to prevent major structural damage. Next he checked for bleeding. He found jagged metal cutting into her right calf. No wonder she had passed out when he tried to shift things. He lowered his head and used his shoulders as he pushed up against the crumpled roof, gaining them several more needed inches.
He studied how her legs were pinned until he was satisfied he had found a way to widen the area without hurting her further. He gripped the two places he had chosen and pulled them apart. The metal protested but gave way until her legs were free. Blood gushed as the jagged metal left her leg. He slapped his palm over it. Despite the urgent need to stop the bleeding, he paused and sucked in a breath as he felt her Power welling underneath his hand.
Liquid sunlight, magic eternal, young, wild and free. He discarded each word as it came to him. They were all inadequate. What he now knew for sure was what he had suspected before. He was in the presence of something unique. In the series of surprises he had encountered since coming aware of her, he came to another first in his long bad life as he discovered reverence.
He sent a very gentle pulse of Power to seal the wound and stop the bleeding. He sent the pulse over her body, sealing other, smaller cuts. She would hurt and be unhappy when she woke up, but she would live. That’s all that mattered.
That’s everything that mattered.
He straightened as much as he could and cupped her chin. “Pia,” he said, reaching soft and calm into her unconscious mind. “Time to wake up. I want you to open your eyes now.”
She pushed at the fingers gripping her chin. She was tired, damn it. She muttered, “Would you stop talking so loud?”
“Pia, look at me.”
“I want to sleep,” she said, her tone petulant. Why did that voice have to be so damn beautiful?
It crooned, “I know, but you can’t. Suck it up, baby.”
“God, you’re so annoying.” She sighed but opened her eyes.
She looked up at Dragos, who smiled at her, his dark expression lit with an unfamiliar expression. On someone else she would call it relief. He propped his weight on one elbow by her head as he leaned over her. One side of his face was a dark purple bruise.
Her gaze left that puzzle and went on to others, traveling over an unfamiliar misshapen metal while they lurched in a constant, uneven motion. She lifted her head to peer out and she wished she hadn’t bothered. Monsters ran alongside them. The sense of dread from before hit her full force. The surrounding land shimmered with magic that was growing in strength. It was too much to take in all at once.
“We’re being kidnapped,” he told her in a calm voice. “Car wreck. Remember? I’m pretty sure they’re hauling us into an Other land.” He stroked her hair. “You’re all right. You were hurt but it isn’t bad.”
She looked down at her battered and blood-smeared body. A switch flipped in her head. “Oh God, I’m bleeding,” she stammered. She brushed at her arms, scrubbed at the wetness streaking her face.
“Whoa,” he said. He grabbed her hands. “Stop panicking. I said you’re all right.”
“Make it stop. I can’t bleed.” She struggled and started to hyperventilate.
“Keep your voice down. One of them might understand English.” He put a hand over her mouth, holding her down. “Damn it, I just closed your wounds. You’re going to cut yourself again if you’re not careful.”
“Dragos, I can’t bleed,” she said, muffled against his palm. “Do you understand? I can’t bleed!” She looked at him with wild eyes. “Can you burn it?”
He stared at her, his gold gaze arrested. “Pia,” he said, “you were cut all over.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she panted. “We’ve got to get rid of the blood.”
After a quick murderous glance at what was happening outside their private cage, he said from between gritted teeth, “Shit. All right, hold still.”
She froze, pushing out the panic. Moving fast, he tore her capris above the knees and stripped the bloody cloth off her. He used it to wipe her legs and the edge of metal that had cut her, and wadded it up. She fought to wriggle out of her overshirt, hampered by their close space. He helped by shredding it and then he used it to wipe the cuts on her arms and her face as best he could. He added it to the wad of material he clenched in one fist.
Magic surged. The truck coughed and stalled. Goblins ran to unhitch the flatbed, calling to one another as they ran chains underneath. A dozen Goblins grabbed the chains and began to haul them forward.
“We’ve crossed over,” he said.
/> She had never been to an Other land before. Her mother refused to take her, insisting their best chance at avoiding discovery was to hide among humankind. Despite everything else going on, the feeling of the land was intoxicating.
She peered out the ruined window. Majestic old-growth trees draped with vines towered around them. There was a symmetry to the land that fed her tired spirit. Her gaze followed the thick twist of a tree trunk up until the branches spread out high overhead with the graciousness of a vaulted cathedral ceiling. Steeped with age, drenched with magic, everything looked richer, greener, and the early-morning sunlight shone more golden and bright.
Pain forced her to lie back. She whispered, “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m pretty sure it won’t be where they’re taking us,” he said.
They both looked down at the short-sleeved lemon yellow T-shirt she had worn underneath. The right shoulder was soaked red, along with an area at her waist where she had bled through the overshirt.
“Tear it off,” she said. She pushed away a panicked sense of exposure. She hoped her bra was clean.
His eyes went lava hot as he glared at the Goblins surrounding them. “Fuck if I will,” he snapped.
He shoved the wad of material into her lap and then ripped the shirt at shoulder and waist until he got all the bloodied cloth. What was left of the T-shirt was a ragged mess that left her stomach and shoulder bare but the collar was intact. She peered underneath it and sighed in relief. Her bra was unbloodied.
Last of all, he tore off his own shirt, which was dotted with red spots. He tied the bundle up in the pieces of his shirt.
Then he held it up in one hand close to the crumpled window opening. His eyes narrowed. The lava in them flared just as his Power did. The bundle burst into flame.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
He said, “We are so going to talk about this when we get home.”
She shrank against his chest, away from the flare of fire, staring as he held the ball in his fist. It burned with too much intensity, fueled by his magic. She felt the heat lick along her skin but he was unburned.