Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 (8 page)

His eyes closed again, and this time he left them shut. If someone had told him he would long for the days of their enslavement, he would have called that person a fool.

Yet here he lay, wishing for a simpler time when his body was a tool to be used, his thoughts dictated by cruel circumstance, but his heart was free. And it had belonged to Emma.

Five years made no difference to him. This year apart made even less. Ten or a hundred more wouldn’t change the sick ache in his bones craving her long-ago touch. He couldn’t love her openly then, either. But she knew she was his. Just as he knew he would always be hers.

Harper groaned beneath my fingers. I spent more time inspecting his cuts than I had checking the fine print on Isabeau’s earlier contract annulment. Mint ointment stung my fingers, cold against the heat of his skin. His muscles were fuller than I remembered. The last time I’d seen him, he was all gristle and bone, half starved and should have been half crazed to match.

I stopped making slow circles across his shoulders. His body exuded vitality. Watching the steady rise and fall of his back, I distracted myself from the crimson skin twitching invitation to either side of him. Unwilling to sever contact just yet, I smeared more goo on his spine and worked my way upwards. Thick ridges bumped under my palm, whip marks I could name and date. Father had lashed them into Harper’s once-supple skin until his scars begot scars.

I’d wanted to flay my father, spit and roast him. Leave his eyes and tender organs for the sharp-beaked birds. The things he’d done to Maddie…to Harper. Father deserved to live through the sensation of being eaten alive by winged beasts, squawked over like the delicacy he would have been. Instead, Harper ended his life with one downward thrust. Skull met tile and crumpled.

I was glad, in a way, because his reckless chivalry saved me from killing my only parent.

Every time I saw Maddie twitch flightless nubs left where Father plucked her infant wings at birth, I tasted unquenchable bloodlust. Her father had been Eliya’s prized
sthudai
, and she’d been born with her Evanti father’s wings. Archer had crippled my little sister in a jealous rage, and if I’d had a few more years on me, I would have killed him then, sparing us his wrath.

“It’s time for him to come inside.” Dillon’s voice dragged me from my thoughts.

“He’s asleep.” I had the insane urge to offer a compromise, sit outside until dawn and watch him rest. “His back will require attention for the next day or so. Make sure he gets it.” Unsettled by the way he watched me, I asked, “Were you there?”

He recoiled. “Yes, and I’ve already been seen by the healers.”

“It figures he would see to everyone else first.” I grabbed a rag and cleaned my fingers. “You’ve got to take better care of him than this. He can’t lead your colony from a sickbed.”

“No offense, Emma.” His tone dipped low. “But you have no right to tell me—or him—how to take care of business. You walked out, remember?” He snorted. “I sure as hell do.”

My mouth opened, but no defense sprung to mind. “I did the best thing for us both.”

“You did what was easiest for you.” Dillon stepped into moonlight, his bicolored eyes glinting. “If you say you did it for his sake, you’re letting yourself off easy.”

I glanced at Harper, who was still sleeping. “He won’t face his past. I lived through that once with Maddie. Pain festers. It chews you up, makes you numb.” My glamour crackled, failing against my anger. “Well guess what? I don’t have it in me to do it a second time. I think I deserve to have a life outside of watching the people I love most try to suffocate themselves with denial.”

“You’re a coward.”

“No, I’m not.” For once, I had the right of it. At least I had tried to cope, to heal myself. “I’ve kicked my addiction and taken responsibility for myself. It’s time he does the same.”

Dillon landed one more hit, far below the belt. “He still waits for you.”

Remnants of my heart shattered, sinking jagged edges beneath my rib cage. “He doesn’t have to. I didn’t ask him to.” But I melted inside to know he did. I did too. Did he realize that? “I’m sorry he’s hurting, but I’m not sorry I left him before he left me.” I clued him in on what I had accepted. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes people are better apart than together.”

“And sometimes people should lower their voices if they don’t want to be overheard.” Harper teased my peripheral vision. He scrubbed a hand across his face, rolling onto his side.

Blood drained from my limbs in a cold rush. Dillon’s smug satisfaction made my fingernails stretch to razor tips. He’d set me up, led me by the nose right where he wanted to take me. Anger prickled my skin, but rage boiled away the chill. He had no right to play with me.

“I think I’ve gotten enough air.” Harper stood, rubbing the base of his neck.

He turned, but I didn’t let him go far. “You always block what you don’t want to hear.”

His shoulders tensed, wings twitching. “You’re wrong, Emma. I’ve heard every word you’ve said to me.” His dark skin shimmered with glamour. “I particularly remember
goodbye
.”

“You would have left me, and you know it.” The unexpected words ripped from my soul. Why had I opened my mouth? I knew accusation would tumble out. “You can’t even look at me when you deny it.” It shocked me to hear the words aloud. I thought I’d made peace with our past, but I guess he wasn’t the only one stuck to the comfortable road. I lied well, even to myself.

“This isn’t the time or the place,” he said softly.

“It never is,” I replied just as soft.

Wood slapped hard to our right, snapping our conversational stalemate.

“Lady, I’ve a message for you.” Aaron stumbled through the garden’s gate. His hair swirled in spiked peaks, his cheeks burnt raw from wind. His eyes widened as Harper’s glamour flickered into place. Dillon shouldered past me, standing between him and my courier.

For a shocked moment I noticed he extended his same protection to me. Glowering at Dillon’s back, I couldn’t forgive what he’d done. This visit could have been a pleasant social call between old friends. Instead, he fed me a line and hooked me into behavioral patterns I hated.

“It’s all right.” I waved the youth closer. “They’re friends of mine.”

Aaron’s wary eyes narrowed. “Would you prefer I deliver the message in private?”

“No.” Dillon rested a hand at his hip, tapping a knife’s hilt. “She’ll hear it here, now.”

“Lady?” Aaron’s voice wavered.

“It’s okay.” I glared at Dillon, tempted to slap him. “We’re all friends here.”

The boy gave a curt nod. “You requested a letter be given to Queen Nesvia, but she will accept no visitors or messages during summer court.” He lowered his gaze. “Rideal is acting as her proxy, and given the urgent nature of your message, I—I surrendered your letter to him.”

The letter’s contents skipped through my mind. Nothing suspect. Unease slid through my limbs that the thought even occurred to me. Rideal was her consort, my brother in a distant way, though I knew little of him. A harmless request for an audience was just that—harmless.

Harper’s growl curled my insides. “She can’t expect us to wait three months and hope we aren’t picked off by raiders by then.” He spat a foul curse in Demonish. “She will hear us.”

“Just let me think.” I touched his shoulder, holding him back from spraying spittle on my messenger. “She’s never refused me an audience, or closed her court.” I rubbed at my temple.

“She didn’t mention the possibility to you?” Doubt laced his voice.

“No,” I growled right back. “She wasn’t expecting me, either. She knows how I feel about Rihos. She knew I wouldn’t go to see her there. She had no reason to tell me of her plans.”

“Lady?” Aaron’s uncertainty caught my attention. I turned. He offered me a silver foil envelope. An elaborate “B” looped in the wax sealing its flap closed.

“Who gave you this?” I already knew. Deep down, I had no doubt.

“Lord Roland Bernhard. He overheard my exchange with his brother. Once Lord Rideal Bernhard dismissed me, the elder Lord Bernhard brought me to his tent and asked I wait while he penned this message. He said bring it direct to you, lady.” His face scrunched up as if struggling to remember some small detail. “He also mentioned sending regards from a Lord Baselios?”

Flames licked along my cheekbones as I ripped the flap and extracted Roland’s letter.

“Roland Bernhard?” Harper pushed Dillon aside, crowding me. “You’ve met him?”

“Yes, last night.” I skimmed the letter. “Nesvia sent a summons by him.”

“And let me guess, even if you didn’t eat or drink, you got sick on the way home or shortly after.” He sounded certain enough, I glanced up at him.

“Yes.” I scanned his face as I refolded the letter. “How did you know?”

He shared a look with Dillon before answering. “Sereian glamour has side effects.”

“Such as?” I expected him to say skin rash or migraines.

He crossed his arms. “Addiction.”

I saw where this was headed. “So this morning—you think I was going through withdrawal?”

“All things considered, yes.”

“I’ve done addiction.” Hadn’t we covered this? I swept an arm down my body. “This didn’t feel that way.”

“You’d been away from Roland for several hours. The contact high was gone.” He touched my arm. “You’d moved into the withdrawal phase.”

I shook him off me. His concern grated on my nerves. I was not an addict. Not anymore. “That’s not how glamour works.” A thought occurred to me. “Are you jealous? Is that why you’re saying this?”

He rubbed his eyes. “You’re making my case for me, and you don’t even realize it.” He tapped the paper in my hand. “What does he want with you?”

My scalp prickled. “He asked me to visit him, in Rihos.” I offered Harper the letter. I didn’t care if he saw it, but he brushed it aside. “He said he can’t make any promises, but if I meet him at the summer castle, he’ll see what he can do about getting me an audience with Nesvia.”

“I don’t like it.” Behind Harper, Dillon shifted. “I don’t trust Sereians, and this one already has his hooks in her. It smacks of laying groundwork, but for what?”

“What choice do we have?” Harper asked, and for once, Dillon had no answer.

“No one has their hooks anywhere near me.” I glared between them. “Wait—what do you mean what choice ‘we’ have?”

Both males turned toward me. “We’re going with you,” Harper said.

Had I doubted they would, even for a moment? “Harper can’t go to Rihos.” Already his lips parted in his defense, but I’d heard enough from him for one night. “No. I don’t want to hear it. There’s no excuse for tempting fate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m going, with or without you.”

“
I’m
the one who was invited in the first place.” I stepped into his space and jabbed his chest with my finger. “You shouldn’t have left the colony without protection.” Dillon growled. “And I don’t mean your rabid watchdog, and you know it. You should have asked me to arrange proper paperwork.” I poked him again. “Then we could have gone together and handled this.”

“There was no time.” His glare should have worried me, should have done more than quicken my pulse and tempt my finger to linger on the thick pad of muscle where it pressed.

“You’re about to make time.” I called to Aaron, “Find Isabeau and have her draft a letter for me. Lord Delaney needs a patron. One of the nobles will have to vouch for his safety.” I wished for another way, but failed in finding one. “Find out if Lord Bernhard is up to the task.”

“Trusting a Sereian is foolish,” Harper snarled at me. “Dillon, prepare the horses. We’re leaving.”

“No,” Dillon sounded sick to admit. “She’s right. You’re too important to risk.” He cast me as condescending a look as he could muster and still make use of my roof and food, let alone my help. “It takes time to convert enough salt to make the trek worthwhile. The raiders know that. They may wait us out at the border, but they won’t come inside the colony. We have time.”

“Unbelievable.” Harper turned on Dillon. “You’re taking her side?”

“We’re all on the same side,” I said. “Think about it, you can slip through lesser cities wearing glamour and a smile, but not Rihos. They know you there. They know what you did.”

“And they’re more likely to turn you in for the reward than ask questions about just how far your immunity extends beyond the colony.” Dillon shook his head. “It would be suicide.” The males shared a dark look. “As far as trusting Sereians go…at least we know what we’re up against.”

Harper spun away and growled, “Fine.” Then he headed inside and left me with Dillon.

“Thanks for backing me up.” Odd to think he would when it mattered.

“You were right this time.” He took a step. “Don’t make too much of it.”

“Hey.” I grabbed his arm, made him face me. “Since we’re being all open and honest, the next time you lead me into a confrontation with him, the next time you make me hurt him to prove some twisted point to yourself, we’ll settle whatever your problem is right out here.”

“You don’t need my help to hurt him.” He glared. “You do just fine on your own.”

What stung most was how right he was.

Chapter Eight

Crunch.
I stopped, picked a sliver of shell from my mouthful of omelet and swallowed. Sharp edges scraped down my throat, and the citrus juice in my cup only made the burn worse. One or two fragments, I could dismiss. It was the sixth and seventh that threw me. Now I scanned the plate, checking for feathers or signs Lindsay had tossed the entire chicken in with its eggs.

I wished I could scrape my plate’s contents onto the floor, but fat lot of good it would do me since I had no dog to lap up the yellow crumbles. I wondered if Figment could visit me. Maddie’s fluff of a dog ate anything. She was a little russet garbage disposal, and I missed her.

“Lindsay, the eggs are much improved this morning.” Isabeau coughed into a napkin.

“Do you think so?” Lindsay, a halfling Askaran like me, beamed. “I did try not to crush the shells this time.” She frowned. “They’re such delicate things. Sometimes I squeeze too hard.”