He released her when they returned to the main part of the cave. He went to one of his bags sitting against the wall. From within he pulled out half a dozen stakes and laid them on the ground. “Were you expecting a war?” she inquired.
“Always be prepared,” he replied before scooping them up and walking over to her. “Do you mind?” he asked and waved at the cloak she wore.
She glanced down the front of her. “Ah no,” she replied uncertainly.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”
Her head flew up, her eyebrows furrowed over the bridge of her nose when he winked at her. She’d seen glimpses of the playful man beneath the steely exterior he’d been exhibiting over the past couple of days, but he’d always quickly slammed his walls back into place. Now, he remained smiling at her and more open than she’d ever seen him.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she teased back.
The smile he flashed her lit his eyes and revealed all of his teeth. Grabbing hold of one side of the cloak he’d given her to wear, he pulled it open. He took one of the stakes and slid it into a pocket she never would have known was there, before sliding two more into loops sewn into the material. Letting go of that side, he grabbed hold of the other side and slid two more stakes into two pockets.
He released the cloak and tugged at the neck to pull it more snuggly against her. “I never wanted a wooden stake so close to my heart,” she said.
He laughed as he stepped away from her. “I doubt any vampire ever did.” He took hold of her arms again to inspect them. “The scratches are gone.”
“Good.”
He handed her the last stake, wrapping her fingers around it. “How does it feel?”
“Strange,” she admitted.
“You’ll get used to that. Does the cloak feel weighted down?”
She took a few turns around the cave to test out the feel of the added weight of the cloak. The cloak swirled around her ankles and hung tighter against her neck, but it didn’t feel much different than it had before. “No.”
“Can you move as freely?”
“Yes.”
“Good, now come at me with the stake.”
“What?” she demanded as she spun toward him.
He grinned at her as he widened his stance and gave her a, come and get me, gesture with his hands. “Come at me. Unless you don’t want a crash course on how to stake someone.”
“I don’t think crash course and stake are words that should be used together.”
“Perhaps not, but you’re still going to come at me.”
“I’ve only rushed at one vampire before.”
“And how did that end?”
The smile slid from her face. “I might have killed him,” she admitted in a low murmur. His hands fell back to his sides; he stopped smiling. “He was trying to stop me from leaving Badwin; I knocked him over the side of the cliff and onto some rocks below. He may have still been alive…”
“You did what had to be done,” William interrupted sternly.
The memory of the man’s broken body faded from her mind. “The way he looked at me when he first saw me terrified me,” she admitted. “What he would have done to me should never be done to any woman; I saw it in his eyes.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped and a vein pulsed to life in his forehead. His playful exterior vanished once more. She missed it almost immediately and wished she’d never brought up what had happened on the mountain. That intense look never left his face as he strode toward her, but she didn’t have the impulse to flee from him. The touch of his hand on her arm belied the look of death on his face when he lifted the hand holding her stake.
“You did what had to be done and don’t ever hesitate to do it again.” The playful man may be gone, but his fingers slid over hers in a gesture meant to soothe. “You must put your survival ahead of everyone else’s in a fight. If you’re not alive, then you won’t be able to help anyone. Remember that Tempest and strike first.”
“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone.”
“No one does, but sometimes that choice is taken from us. Now remember that and come at me.”
He walked away again and stood ten feet away from her. “Won’t we make too much noise?”
“Short of lighting a bomb off in here, not much is going to travel beyond the wall and wind. Come on, you’re older than me; there’s a good possibility you could take me down.”
She snorted in disbelief; she may be older but she could feel the power coming off him in waves. She’d felt more of it from other vampires, but he was strong. He also had the training to move with lethal intent as she’d witnessed in the snow before.
She planted her hands on her hips as she studied him. “I think you’re spoiling for a fight.”
His eyebrows wiggled in a playful manner as he spoke, “Maybe I’m just trying to get my hands on you some more.”
“Funny,” she retorted, but he continued to stare at her with a challenging twinkle in his eyes. He gave another, come on, gesture with his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Would you prefer it if I came at you?”
Her head tilted to the side as she considered that. She bit back her retort of there being many things she would prefer him to do than that. She didn’t think her playful reply would be taken as such, and she wasn’t sure it would have been entirely playful. His woodsy, fiery scent lingered from his last touch and she could still feel the pressure of his body against her skin. She longed to touch him again.
“I actually would,” she finally admitted.
“I can arrange that. Don’t accidentally stake me.”
“I won’t.” She didn’t plan to lift the weapon against him.
The position of his feet changed; the smile slid from his face as his eyes ran over her. What have I done? She may be older than him, and he may have once been human, but he moved faster than she’d ever thought possible. He hadn’t been able to pick up much speed against those creatures in the snow, but now he could.
She dashed to the side, trying to avoid his grasp, but his arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted her clear off the ground. The cave spun around her in a dizzying blur before he placed her on her feet and danced away from her. She was still trying to figure out where she stood in the cave, and he was already leaning casually against the wall with an amused smile.
“Keep your hands up,” he instructed her. Tempest lifted her hands before her. He shook his head before walking over to her again. He lifted her hands higher so her elbows protected her chest and her hands were almost in front of her face. “You’re keeping your two most vulnerable parts protected, your heart and your head, if you do this. Keep your arms loose and flowing. Stay on the balls of your feet so you can move easily, and get out of the way faster.”
He moved her through some more paces, teaching her how to move and flow while keeping herself protected from what could be a killing blow. She tripped over her feet more times than she cared to remember. Throughout her life, as she would run and climb in the mountains, she never considered herself clumsy, but after this exercise with William, she wasn’t so sure. She heavily questioned her agility and wondered how she’d managed not to slip off the side of a cliff with her sudden inability to stay on her feet.
There was something about William that divided her attention between what he was trying to teach her, and the man himself. His body was so warm when he stood beside her, his hands so powerful and strong on hers. The callouses and scars marring his hands caused her skin to tingle and reminded her he was a warrior, a man who had survived far more in his short life than she would ever experience. The smell of him kept making her head turn into him in order to inhale more of his intoxicating scent.
“Keep your attention on me always,” he said as he moved around her. That will be easy to do, she thought as she turned with him. She followed him as he moved around the cave, his hands raised in the air so his palms faced her. In the flickering light, she noticed nearly identica
l scars running across the palms of both of his hands. They were both slices that ran the entire length of his palm and across his fingers.
Before she could ask what had happened, he spoke, “Hit my hands.”
“Really?” she asked as she stared at the palms facing her. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Of course you can.”
He stopped moving and stepped toward her. Taking hold of her hand, he folded it into a fist. Heat pooled through her; she found herself staring at his lowered black lashes with their red tips while he adjusted her thumb outside of her fingers. His arm brushed against her chest as he moved. His hand froze on hers when his eyes lifted to look at her.
His mouth was only inches away from hers. She fought the impulse, but she found her eyes falling to his lips. A small thrill ran through her as she was struck with the sudden urge to kiss him. Those firm, warm lips pressed against hers was all she could think of, as he remained unmoving and so temptingly close. She swayed instinctively toward him, her body pulsed with excitement, as they became so close to each other she could see the strands of gold and brown intertwining in his beard.
It would be so easy to lean forward just a little and press her lips to his. To answer the question of what he would taste like and ease the desire clamoring hotly through her veins. She’d never felt this way about someone before. She’d been kissed and groped awkwardly by a few boys in Badwin over the years, but it had never amounted to much more than satisfying some of her curiosity, and it hadn’t been overly pleasant anyway.
She yearned to taste him so badly her mind spun, and her blood became electrified by the possibility of answering the call clamoring through her body. Instinctively she knew it wouldn’t be like those fumbling attempts she’d experienced before. Just touching him was making her entire body come alive in a way it never had; kissing him might kick-start her heart into beating.
He moved closer to her, his lips only centimeters from hers, his body pressing against the arms curled protectively to her chest. With a sharp inhale, his eyes flew up to hers. Desire radiated in their clear blue depths, but she also saw a flicker of apprehension before he took an abrupt step back.
Disappointment crashed through her. It took all she had not to step closer to him again. Her body craved his heat against hers. She’d been warm before he’d stepped away from her; now her body felt like ice encased it. Had he just rejected her? He could have kissed her; he had to have known that. Yet he took another step away, putting more distance between them, before stepping forward again.
“Keep your hand fisted, and hit me lightly until you feel comfortable enough to do it with more force.” His voice came out gravelly; beads of sweat dotted his forehead. She could blame the fire for both things, but she knew it was something more. Raising his right hand to her, he gave her a brief nod. “Go ahead.”
Tempest didn’t know what she wanted from him, but she would rather take hold of his hand instead of trying to hit it. The smile didn’t return to his face; his eyes were blue pools of ice as he watched her. Ever so tentatively, she hit his palm. It didn’t hurt, his hand didn’t move, but it amazed her how good the action of hitting something, especially after what had not happened between them, felt.
He began to move again, turning with his hands up as she tapped tentatively at him a few more times before becoming more confident and sure of her movements. Sweat trickled down her temple, her hair stuck to her face as they moved on, dancing their way around the cave. The fire was beginning to die down when he took a step away from her and lowered his hands.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he told her.
She wanted to argue with him not to stop, not because she wasn’t ready for a break, because she was. No, she was ready to keep going all night if it meant they could keep touching each other. Her arms felt like rubber, her knuckles ached and her legs quaked so much she thought they might collapse, but she wasn’t ready to quit.
She took a step away from him, unwilling to show how much she already missed his touch. She still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened earlier, but her pride couldn’t take another kick to it today. Making her way over to the cave wall, she briefly rested her forehead against the rocks in order to cool herself off a little. A bath would have felt fantastic, but she doubted she’d be getting one of those anytime soon.
She’d rest for a few minutes before going into the back to give herself a sponge bath. She may not be able to soak in some water right now, but she could at least clean the sweat from her body. Turning away from the wall, she slid down the stone to sit on the ground. Across from her, William threw a single branch onto the dwindling fire.
She knew there wasn’t much wood left. It might get them through two days at this rate, but she doubted it. The idea of being thrust into the dark in this cave, with the wind howling outside, and those things running free cooled the rest of her heated flesh.
CHAPTER 15
The next night, William stared up at the ceiling of the cave as he listened to the distant sounds of the wind blowing against the snow wall they’d created yesterday. Not sleeping was something he’d grown accustomed to over the years. When he’d been a rebel in the forest, he’d trained himself to awaken at the slightest noise. After his life had become more secure -though he had to use that term loosely considering he’d been killed after his days as a rebel and the war were over- he’d never been able to let his guard down enough to break the habit.
When he did sleep, the nightmares plagued him. Staring at the wall, he could hear the echoing shouts and clash of steal resonating throughout the king’s throne room during that last battle. He’d never seen his father fall, but in his nightmares he did, over and over again. Tonight he hadn’t dreamt of his father again, but of smoke and screams filling a street as vampires and people fled to escape the growing flames.
He’d dreamt of looking down at the razor edge of a sword driven through his back and straight out his stomach. He’d barely felt the pain through the disbelief and anger. Too young, had been his first thought, too young to die. His second thought had been that he’d always known he’d die young, but he hadn’t been ready to die, and he’d been unwilling to let his death be a result of being stabbed in the back by a coward who had been too afraid to face him.
It had been the main reason he’d said yes to Aria; he was going to make Kane pay for his cowardice. He wasn’t frightened of death, never had been, but he’d had so much more left to accomplish. The other reason he’d said yes had been the look in Aria’s eyes. The devastation and loss, the hope he would accept what she offered to him. He’d always had the hardest time telling her no, and she knew it.
Beside him, the small fire cast shadows over the walls and barely warmed the side of his face. He’d hoped the storm would break sometime during the day, but it had continued unyieldingly on through the day and into the night.
He’d done more training with Tempest earlier. They’d shared more stories about their lives in the forest and orphanage. He knew more about her than he did most others, and he’d revealed more to her about his life than he’d revealed to anyone outside of his family and friends. He found her extremely easy to talk to, and she could make him smile without even trying; something he hadn’t done much since his father’s death, and had done even less since his own.
No matter how much he enjoyed being around her, he also had to keep his distance from her, and had retreated to his side of the cave a few hours ago. Being so close to her, smelling her crisp, wintry scent was a distraction he didn’t need. She was also a vampire; he’d never been involved with a vampire before, but then humans weren’t exactly for him anymore either.
Since the change, he didn’t know where he fit in anymore. He was one of two living oddities amongst vampires and humans. He didn’t feel as if he belonged in either world, and maybe he didn’t. The funny thing was he and Aria had always been oddities. There had been few redheads in the woods, and they were the only set of boy/girl twins
amongst the rebels. It made sense they’d still be the oddities now, but she had a crown and a palace to help run, he had…
Vengeance.
That was what he had; it was what kept him going, and what drove him relentlessly through his days. The idea of getting his hands on Kane made his fangs elongate to razor points that pressed against the inside of his lip. The man was so close, almost within his grasp, but he had to think about Tempest now too. She needed his help and he had to keep her safe.
He also had to figure out who was threatening the peace they’d all fought to attain and keep. His father had died to help create the world they now lived in; he wasn’t going to let anyone destroy that. No matter how badly he wanted to get to Kane, he had to make sure his father’s death wasn’t in vain.
Kane could wait, murdering him would have to come later, for now. First, he would make sure Tempest was safe and the kingdom secure, no matter what it took to do so. Turning his head, he looked across the fire at where Tempest lay. Her head rested on a rolled up cloak; her silvery hair spilled around her, partially obscuring her pretty features. She wasn’t beautiful, but there was something so intriguing about her that he couldn’t stop staring at her.
He could still feel the warmth of her flesh against his; hear the sound of her tinkling laugh when she’d danced around him, growing more confident in the punches she threw at his palms. The woman excited and drew him to her in a way no other had. She made him feel protective and uncertain all at once.
All he longed to do was kiss her, but he knew he couldn’t. With the way he was now, he could lose control and injure her. He’d believed he’d had a better grip on himself until those creatures had attacked them in the snow, and he’d smelled her blood. There had been no restraint after that. He couldn’t take the chance of losing control with her; he’d never forgive himself if he ever hurt her in any way.