CarnalPromise (24 page)

Like I didn’t have enough motivation to begin with.
But Drakkar didn’t know all of that and hopefully he never would. Ragnar
motioned to her with encouragement and she eked out some more speed. Her
partner had admitted to her that at first he had been pissed. He didn’t want to
babysit anyone but then he discovered that many of the top contenders were
asked to do so, which was why each of the women was paired with one of the
physically elite warriors. Jinn surmised this tactic was intended to put more
pressure on the “elite”. Plus it put them in a more real-life situation, one
where they may have to save some innocents.

After ruminating on said method, Jinn thought the approach
brilliant. No wonder the Vulgarian ground troops were so good. The trainers
threw everything at them that they could conceive.

Jinn glanced upward. In a few more feet she would hit the
rocky incline. Sweat beat a path over her brow, her breathing labored.
I can
do this.
She wanted to be the first woman to the top.

Sure-footed, Jinn leapt onto the trail, her steps light
against the rolling jagged stones. Another passed her. One of the trainers. But
Jinn never let her focus lag. Step after step, she kept her eyes on her target.

The incline steepened. Her legs throbbed with pain. They’d
been running since the rays of daylight illuminated the lush, wild landscape.
Now, the sun had made its way to the tall tree tops. The day was almost done
and the thought gave Jinn some relief.

Suddenly she felt a push against her back, strong enough to
trip her forward. Jinn fell into the rocks with a thud, scratching her hands
and face and dinging her knee. She rose quickly, although not fast enough to
catch Gunnvir, another of the women, as she passed by Jinn.

“Foul,” Saehildr called, huffing as she caught up with Jinn.
Saehildr had been one of the few roommates that Jinn liked. The woman honestly
did want to learn as much as she could from this assignment, even though she
had no illusion about being on a team. The female just hoped to be used on
special assignments, her main strength communications and technology.

Jinn understood her drive. Saehildr wanted respect for her
skills.

So did Jinn. Especially from Drakkar.

“Gunnvir pushed you,” Saehildr whispered to Jinn between
breaths as she tried to keep up. “That woman has it in for you, I think. She’s
jealous you got partnered with Ragnar.”

Jinn flinched at the thought. She could care less about
Gunnvir’s envy but the woman was one of those that had been preening herself
and yakking about who was the best and who would make it on a team. If Ragnar
was anything like Drakkar—and Jinn was sure he was—that bitch would only hurt
him in the long run, going for someone better if she thought it so. Thankfully,
Ragnar had no eyes for her. He had already told “Pixie” that he knew who his
bondsmate would be—someday, but for some reason the female wasn’t ready yet.

Jinn was happy for him but she sure as hell didn’t have to
put up with bitches that wanted him. Ahead, Gunnvir slipped and stumbled.

Serves her right
, Jinn thought. Leaving Saehildr, she
forged ahead, passing the soured woman while she still lay on the ground.
Jinn’s progress made the other move, however. Soon she heard Gunnvir right
behind her.

The men at the top starting rooting their teammates on. Jinn
heard Ragnar’s voice. “Move it, Pixie! You’ve almost cleared the worst of it.”
The sound lightened her spirit and she sprinted to the top with Gunnvir’s
breath heavy at her heels.

When Jinn entered the rocked-in circle of the finish, Ragnar
whooped and grabbed her in a bear hug. Jinn could barely breathe but at the
moment she didn’t care. She had won the women’s portion of the race.

In moments, Saehildr scrambled into the area and bent over
trying to catch her breath. Still, Saehildr’s partner, another called Hamner,
picked her up from behind, holding her as he cheered and tossing her around in
a circle before placing her on her feet. Saehildr looked at Jinn with a broad
smile and gave her a thumbs-up.

Jinn laughed and returned the symbolic gesture then bent
over, placing her hands on her knees to suck in as much air as she could.
Perhaps she had just made a friend. Well, at least, as Pixie perhaps she had.
When Saehildr discovered the truth…. Well, Jinn didn’t want to think about that
at the moment. Right now, she was ahead in her game.

And it felt great.

Finally, the last of the runners were up. Jinn’s thighs
trembled with pain as the trainers herded them around Mace.

“Congratulations to all who completed the run. Those that
did not have automatically removed themselves from the test. Rest tonight.
Tomorrow, we begin again.”

With that, Mace turned and left everyone. But Gunnvir hung
behind. Only for a moment. Long enough to shoot Jinn a look that revealed the
other’s fury.

“I know she’s upset with you for winning the women’s portion
of the run. She’s a strong one. Be careful. She put Laele in the medical tent
in our last practice fight. Laele was another that she’d thought was
competition.” Saehildr shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, she’s always been
strong. It runs in their family but she’s seems to be much stronger than
before, even with the training. Just be careful.” Saehildr’s brows knitted
again. “I mean, word has it she’s been consulting a lot with someone on the
staff but I don’t know who. Someone I think she’s related to. You just don’t
know what kind of information Gunnvir is getting on all of us.”

The hour was late and Jinn just wanted to get to the women’s
barracks and sleep but Saehildr worried. “I’ll be careful. You just be careful
too. If she wants to be my enemy, then don’t let her know you’re speaking to
me. She might take it out on you.”

Saehildr nodded then left and went her own way along the
dirt path to the women’s quarters.

Jinn used the time to do the things she needed to do alone.
She’d been allowed to sneak the elements for her infusion into the area. She
had to take it now before her hormones betrayed her. Scurrying off into the
underbrush, she hid behind a large rock and eased the vial from her sleeve,
taking it quickly.

A soft breeze caressed her and she heard the leaves rustle,
but something about it felt strange. She glanced around. A faint scent stirred
in the air. Scanning the area in the pale moonlight, Jinn found what she
sought—a pair of footprints close by.

Someone had been watching her.

“For now, I think she’s safe, but someone in the camp is a
spy. Sophos was clear on that.”

Drakkar growled at his mother’s news. Here he thought Jinn
would be protected from outside threats and now he finds that she’s in more
danger than before. “How could this have happened?”

Ástrid shook her head. “I don’t know, son. None of us knew
we had Renegade spies in our midst, not until now.” She grimaced. “Apparently
they’ve been operating a long time. The Svendians weren’t the only ones that
were played. We have been too. I just didn’t think it ran this deep.”

“Do we have any ide—”

His mother interjected with a shake of her head. “We don’t
know at all, which is what bothers me more than anything. I’ll keep my channels
open, ask around in obtuse ways. You just get to the training ground and make
sure that girl is shielded. If anything were to happen to her…”

“I’m gone.” Drakkar held up his hand. “I’ll take Sasha with
me.” Jinn was his mate. He was bound by oath to protect her—to die for her if
need be. But Drakkar knew his mother’s fears. They were the same as his own. If
something happened to Jinn, the war would start over again and this time, it
would be a thousand times more brutal than before. After all, the ancient royal
line ran through Jinn’s veins. More importantly, she was Rurik the Destroyer’s
sister—a foe he did not want to do battle with anymore.

* * * * *

How many days had gone by? Eleven? Twelve? As exhausted as
Jinn felt, she had almost lost track.

Fifteen
. Fifteen days and nights since their last
good rest. They’d been at it for almost forty-five in total. And the training
had grown more physical, although much of the heavy lifting was still done as a
team, thank God. The physical demands on the women were not as great, not yet
anyway, but none of the women, not even Gunnvir, could have moved those rocks
and logs without the men.

Jinn glanced upward, shielding her eyes from the more ardent
rays of the sun. The Vulgarian sol sat overhead, basting the ones below in its
heat. She sighed, following Ragnar to the top of the hill where their next
exercise would take place. As they gathered, Jinn noted that like her, most of
her peers showed some signs of weariness. That morning, they’d already
completed several physical exercises then run a mock gantlet, preparing for the
actual test which would be soon, Jinn surmised. Speed and timing had been
critical in the obstacle run. Most of them failed parts of it, including Jinn.
She’d been nipped by the body laser, a six-foot high, one-inch beam. For
training purposes, the beams were set to only stun but it still hurt like hell.
Her right arm and foot were numb for at least an hour. Like the rest, she
slugged on to the finish line and marched, with Ragnar’s help, the mile or so
to the gathering point where the med tent was and the afternoon meal.

She glanced at Ragnar’s broad back as she followed him up
the rocky path. He’d gotten through all the obstructions without incident. She
grimaced, thinking Drakkar had probably done the same. She’d been told he had
been one of the premier students. Knowing him as she did now, she didn’t doubt
it and the thought both excited her and made her nervous. She desired him.
Badly. Yet he would stop her if he knew what she had planned. She didn’t think
she could escape him, not with his brawn and wit. And that was what troubled
her.

She shut her eyes briefly and sighed. She thought too much
of him lately, especially at night when she slept alone.
You can’t afford
the distraction.
The reminder had become a daily ritual, one becoming
harder to fight, but she had to. She had no choice. She had to redeem herself.

Letting a warm breeze brush her thoughts away, Jinn tried to
focus on their next task, single-hand combat. A trainer reminded them again
that they were to study the fighters, find their weaknesses and strengths and
see what techniques they could use for themselves. It was a worthy goal. Any
new technique learned would be a boon but much of that depended on the physical
abilities of the fighter and the overall situation. Still, they were able to
talk as comrades afterward and have personal time to train any new techniques
they saw. Plus, just sitting and watching gave them some time to rest and
recover.

“Line up and draw your number.” One of the female trainers,
Krystal of Blendor, another outpost of Vulgaria, was in charge of the combat
today. As beefy and muscled as the trainer was, Jinn was pretty sure she wasn’t
a breeder. Still, Krystal’s presence had surprised Jinn at first. Yeah, Jinn
knew there were Vulgarians that couldn’t breed but none that looked so much
like the trainer—a ripped body, squared, masculine jaw and massive strength.
From what Jinn had been told, the woman had taken some stamina-strengthening
solution that had been approved of but was then found to be more than
dangerous. Unfortunately, it had been too late for the older woman.

Jinn stepped up behind her partner and pulled her number
after him.
Twenty-three.
She wondered who she’d be paired with this time
as she and Ragnar sat down together around the makeshift arena within the
woods. Soon, Saehildr and her partner joined them.

As others pulled their stubs, Jinn glanced around at the
dwindled numbers. Many had already dropped out and the reasons varied. The
number of men had dropped significantly—but the tests had cut even more women.
There were only seven left to be exact and Jinn thought one or two more would
be dropping soon, ones who at first seemed more interested in finding a mate as
opposed to really training.

Oh well
, Jinn allowed a muted huff.
So much for
matchmaking.
None of the girls who’d been there for that had gotten what
they wanted. The men were way too focused on making their mark and battling for
the honor of being the top candidate. And although the tests were easier on the
women, they still had their effect. The ones that weren’t there for the real
purpose of training were easily weeded out. As Jinn understood it, in the final
phase, even the women would not get a break. Designed for true battle, the
final phase would test even the most steadfast warrior. Of the few females who
had gotten that far, none had passed the last test, well, except one, some dame
who had taken illicit drugs to enhance her prowess. But in the end she, too,
failed, her body made unpredictable while pumped with narcotics.

Jinn’s thoughts were halted by the silence of the crowd.
Fighters were called to the first bout. Two men stepped up. Both had a brawny
stature and the fight was a close one. In this test, anything went, but they
did have rules to prevent injury to one another. A mock strike in some cases
was sufficient for a win or some damage points.

The next bout was more interesting. Saehildr was matched
with one of the males. Her new-found friend would need speed to stay in the
game, although the males were not allowed to use full force on the females, at
least in this stage of the training. Again, a mock strike would be enough for a
win or measured damage. Jinn watched closely. Saehildr had some good moves but
not good enough. The match ended way too quickly. Her friend dragged her feet
as she returned, plopping between Jinn and her partner. “Oh, well.” Saehildr’s
mouth screwed up in a frown.

Jinn gave her a quick hug. She understood the woman’s
concerns. Losing a match, even with a male, counted against the candidate.
Saehildr didn’t want to drop out of the training yet. She hadn’t gotten far
enough to reach her goal of being a comm officer for special assignments. Jinn
respected that about her friend, the fact that Saehildr had a firm goal that
she would work hard for and sacrifice to achieve.

A few more bouts were fought as the afternoon wore on. The
sun’s rays beat down on them and heated the already tense atmosphere. It was
one of the last warm days, according to some, before the icy winter hit. Jinn
hated the cold and shivered at the thought.

Around her, others would comment on one move or another.
Jinn had her own thoughts and chatted about them with those near her,
especially with Ragnar, her partner. To date, Jinn hadn’t shown the full extent
of her hand-to-hand capabilities. She didn’t want the others to think her
overly skilled, afraid that some of her abilities would be above the small,
mundane missions she’d supposedly completed. Although Ragnar worried, she tried
to assure him she would be fine in any confrontation and that she had more
experience outside of the military tasks for which she’d been assigned.

Still, her partner felt it his duty to advise her on the
best moves to defeat an opponent. Jinn would listen, wisely enough. He did give
her some pointers, ideas on how to move and strike that she had not thought of,
which she appreciated. The man was a skilled warrior and Jinn wasn’t beyond
getting any advice from someone, albeit a bit younger than her, who had won
most of the challenges he had faced.

Ragnar had been in some of the fiercest hand-to-hand battles
the Vulgarians had had with her people. Although she felt saddened, knowing the
results of some of those he’d described, he had her respect. He was a warrior.
He had done what he had to do.

Exhaling, Jinn realized she, too, was relieved the war was
over, with one caveat, the one that affected her personally. Being forced into
the position she was now still stifled her.
A forced bonding with Drakkar.
Hell. As she’d tried to tell her brother, she would bond with him eventually,
she couldn’t help it, but the snag messed with her number-one mission.

Even so, too often her thoughts drifted to her mate-to-be,
thinking not only of his demands, but of his gifts and kindness to her—as well
as the hot nights they’d spent in one another’s embrace. There was a depth to
Drakkar that she did not yet understand, and she wanted to.

The cheering from the crowd brought her back to the fights
and her focus stayed on the bouts. A few other matches were fought, then Ragnar
was called.

“Wish me luck, Pix,” he whispered in her ear as he rose for
battle. He’d been matched with another who had not lost a fight yet within the
training.

The whistle blew. The men circled, each one studying the
other, and then suddenly they both charged. The swift, hard contact sounded
like two long-horned mountain goats butting heads. Fists and feet both moved
quickly, yet the motions appeared like a dance. In its own way, it was
beautiful to behold. Only a lifetime of study of the martial arts would give
one this advantage—the quickness and accuracy in the strikes, the fluidity of
motion. Time wore on. Jinn, with the others, sat on edge, waiting, watching for
the slightest weakness, but none showed. Finally, both fighters slowed, but
were they tired or were they conserving their strength, waiting for the right
opening to make their move?

More than one trainee around her held their breath.
Give
and take, give and take.
A direct lunge from one while the other circled to
avoid. A circuitous attack from the other as his combatant counter attacked
with a solid straight-line strike.

A clinch.
They had each other by the neck. Ragnar
broke his hold and forced the other to release him. Breathless, they stared at
one another. In a real battle situation, this would go on but the trainer
called the fight. A tie.

A whoosh of breaths and smiles circled round the perimeter.

Sweating and filthy, Ragnar marched back then collapsed
beside her.

His opponent did the same with his partner.

The two men eyed each other, nodding in tandem.

Respect
. They had respect for one another. Something
Jinn craved from her brother, but now, more importantly, an emotion she wanted
desperately from Drakkar. More than she had ever realized. Was that why she
allowed herself to be roped into this training?

Maybe
. Jinn figured out after she’d agreed that she
could have found other ways to weasel out of her situation. Unfortunately, she
had let her emotions override her logic once again. But it still would have
been too late to find Craddock on Telrusia. The reminder irritated her, her
mistake cut deeper into her soul. Another bout was called but the crux of
Jinn’s thoughts made her oblivious.

“Pix, your turn.” Ragnar’s knitted brows voiced his concern.
He glanced from her to Jinn’s opponent and back. “Watch your back. Look for the
feint. She’s a bitch for sure. Listen to me. I’ll guide you.”

Jinn gathered her wits about her and glanced up.
Gunnvir
.
The woman stood with her hands on her hips, a smug grin plastered between her
ruddy cheeks—one that said Jinn would suffer big-time.

“Oh, shatz,” Saehildr mumbled, voicing Jinn’s thought.
“Pixie, don’t…”

Jinn held up her hand. “I can’t turn this down. Don’t
worry.” She patted her friend’s back. “I’ll be careful.” The way Jinn felt, she
wasn’t about to back out of this now.

“Pix, I’m serious.” Ragnar grasped her upper arm as he bent
over and whispered in her ear. “Listen to me. Something isn’t right with that
woman. She’s tried to hurt every woman she’s battled.”

Jinn nodded. The man knew what he was doing but Jinn had
skills enough for Gunnvir, she was sure of it. Unfortunately, with Gunnvir’s
strength, she might have to give it her all—and that she really didn’t want to
do, not if she could help it.

Rising, Jinn hurried to face her opponent, comforted that
she’d already devised a plan to deal with the woman. It was true that Gunnvir
was stronger, but Jinn was quicker and quickness with motion had its own
strength. Jinn would avoid Gunnvir’s early punches and wear the female down.

The whistle sounded. Gunnvir charged. Jinn expected her move
and circled to the side of her punch. Gunnvir threw another series of strikes
that Jinn, yet again, deftly avoided. Gunnvir’s cheeks reddened as the female’s
frustration rose. Then with a burst of speed, the woman threw a more
destructive series of strikes, aimed at keys points of Jinn’s body. The
untypical quickness almost caught Jinn yet her reaction was still faster, and
she either blocked or avoided the crux of the charges.