Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1) (21 page)

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Authors: Rachael Slate

Tags: #paranormal romance, #Greek Mythology, #Romance, #Fantasy

BOOK: Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1)
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“Truly, child, there is no need for such drama.” The Queen waved at her to sheathe her dagger. “Careful of your impudence. You are my subject, Kyme, and I your Queen. Your respect is due me.” Tilting her head, she added, “I assumed you would find the aid useful.”

Yes, and a chaperone, too. Right, Godmother?
“My Queen, their very presence would endanger my mission.” Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she stamped down her indignation, letting reason rise to the front. “If the information of my whereabouts was so easy to procure, the rumor of more Amazons on board Arsenius’s ship would spread. If his client should learn of this, he might sense the trap and pull away, leaving us with nothing.”

“Indeed, Kyme, though we would not be left with nothing. We could always interrogate your slaver.” Hippolyta’s stare focused on Arsenius. Had something passed between them?

Hiding her trepidation by folding her arms, she curled her lip. “Have you not observed his scars? This male has been tortured in every manner possible. I doubt there is anything you can do to make him talk.”
Though I might have employed other methods to coax his tongue.

The Queen focused on Arsenius. “Oh, my dear, there is one way I can think of.” The corner of her mouth curved up before Hippolyta glanced back at her. “Very well, Kyme. You may go alone. Do not forget your vows to Artemis and to your sisters. I shall await your swift return. Should you require aid, do not hesitate to call upon us.” With that, her godmother strolled away.

“Yes, my Queen.” Kyme bowed. Her nails dug into her palms, her fury too great to do anything other than stare after the Queen of her people.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got my breeches in that satchel?” Arsenius grated behind her. Wonderful, he was going to be cross because she’d struck him. Well, it wasn’t as though she’d had a choice. She would not apologize. Digging into the bag at her side, she withdrew the leather garment and handed it to him.

“Oh gods, forgive me.” Her ire disintegrated as a tremendous bruise formed across his abdomen. She grasped for his hand but he brushed her away, grabbed his breeches, and tugged them on.

His anger was righteous. What had transpired was entirely her fault. Yet, it would be best to let the beast simmer in solitude.

They departed the Amazon camp and trekked toward where his crew was supposed to have reconvened. Thereus and the others would be searching for them, but they would have left someone behind in case Kyme and Arsenius returned.

The hours trudged by, as did the silence. Each minute that passed was like a shallow slice of a blade across her heart. Enough to suffer the sting.
Too complicated.
She huffed and trailed after Arsenius. The complexity of their relationship constricted her chest, making each breath arduous. If only she’d been born under a different star.

She halted, intending to coax him to speak, but the wind carried the sound of shouts up ahead.

***

Kyme and Arsenius broke into a sprint. His men. They were fighting. He caught the echoes of their strained voices on the wind. The knot he’d had in his gut all morning was being actualized.

At first, he’d discounted the twinge as a result of the tension between him and Kyme. Contrary to what she must be thinking, he wasn’t bitter about any of it. Not his capture and being bound. Not even her punching him.

No, he wasn’t angry with her, but his temper was a volcano on the verge of erupting. He refused to accept how Kyme’s family treated her. Was she aware she meant nothing to her godmother, that she was merely a weapon of power?

Too well, he’d interpreted the Queen’s threat. If this mission went awry for any reason, if Arsenius compromised Kyme, the Queen would hurt her.

Not me.
Torture was a futile weapon against him.

Arsenius’s sole weakness now…was Kyme.

She wasted such effort proving herself to those people. No doubt, some of them cared about her, but others didn’t.

Well, at least she had a strong punch. Her fortitude gave him some small reassurance as they rushed toward the clashing din of battle. His Kyme could handle herself.

“Stay behind me.” The forest cleared and Arsenius rushed ahead of Kyme, who’d halted to nock an arrow in her bow. He crashed through a thicket of bushes, his body tense and ready to pounce. Though he had no weapon, he didn’t require one.

For there was no enemy here.

A thick mist seeped upward from the forest floor, enveloping him and obscuring his view of his men. Damn minotaurs, with their mind tricks. He whistled and, from the trees, a tune replied.
Thereus.
No one else knew the correct answering note. He bolted a few steps in the direction of his fighters. As he strode forward, a deep sense of foreboding fell over him, as though someone had poured ice water down his spine.

He spun and blinked into the empty forest. Kyme was gone.

Just…gone. Her bow lay discarded on the ground.

He sniffed and inhaled the acidity of the beast’s scent. “
No.
” Roaring, he barreled through the wall of mist. It shattered, revealing yet more of the empty forest.

No.
He refused to lose her like this. Not when he didn’t even have her yet.

Pivoting, he inhaled deeply and searched the forest smells for her scent.

There.
He sniffed. Her fragrance was delicate, easy to miss, but not for him. She was burned into him. He would recognize her scent anywhere, could trace it everywhere—precisely what he was going to do.

Heavy footfalls pounded behind him as Thereus and the others joined him. “Praise the gods, you’re alive, Captain. Your men claimed you’d disappeared. We’ve searched for you for two days. Where have you—” Thereus cut off his question at Arsenius’s raised hand. The centaur knew well enough when to shut his mouth.

Arsenius lifted his head and sniffed the air.
To the right.
He broke away in a sprint, his men on his heels. He paused every few feet as the minotaur made changes in his course.

As her scent grew stronger, he doubled his pace.
Near, she’s so near.
Why did she not cry out? If she made a sound, he’d be able to tell exactly how far away she was. But no, she was silent. He did not allow his mind to ponder the possibilities of why.

He would locate her first and—Kyme’s scent slammed into him a moment before, not fifty yards away, he spotted her.
Them.

Snarling, he stormed toward them. She was slung across the beast’s shoulder, her limp body decidedly unconscious. The bastard used his free hand to carve symbols into the rocky face of a mountain.

Damn it, no.
He threw everything he had into his muscles. The strain of being tied up vanished as he extracted every ounce of his strength.

Smirking over his shoulder at Arsenius, a twisted evil glinted in the minotaur’s crimson eyes. As the rock blazed, the beast stepped inside the Portal and vanished.

Arsenius slammed into the rock wall, a second too late. He pounded his fists and threw back his head, roaring, as though by cursing he would force the mountain to open to him. The callous rock did not reply, so he sank to his knees, head in his hands.

“Arsenius.” Thereus’s voice drew him out. “Captain, what are your orders?”

“Now, we find her. We break into his lair and bring her back.” He fisted his hands. “Then we kill the bastard.”

Thereus laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tell us, what did you see?”

He whipped his gaze to the centaur. “What do you mean, what did I see? That blasted minotaur took her—”

“Aye, Captain, but for truth you were the sole one to witness it. The minotaur’s trick of mind was played out only for you.”

“It’s true.” His crewman, Venn, inclined his head. “If you allow me access, I can review the images in your head. That he showed you anything is a blessing. His arrogance may be his undoing.”

“What can you do, if it was a farce?”

The Wind Borne approached his side. “If I can skim through your memories, I may be able to piece together which parts were reality and which fabricated.”

Arsenius had never allowed himself to be at the receiving end of a Wind Borne’s telepathic powers before. The notion of anyone crawling around inside his mind made his stomach churn. Oh aye, mayhap it was because of those dark memories, those torments he’d never shared with anyone. Except Kyme.

Right, that was the fuel he required. He gave a sharp nod and staggered to his feet.

Speaking in low, hypnotic tones, the large winged male murmured, “Close your eyes and open your mind.”

Chapter 20

Everything was black. Dark walls, dark floor, dark ceiling, no…
Wait.
Kyme twisted her head from where she lay on the packed dirt of what she assumed was a prison cell.
Yes, there.
One wall was slightly less opaque than the others. She squinted. Must be the way in, and the way out. Lying on her stomach, she raised on her elbows.

Wrong move.
Her head spun in protest to the vertical position. Collapsing on the ground, she clutched her head in her hands until the spinning stopped. She blinked, trying to recall why she was here.
What happened?
An image flashed into her mind. A man. With fierce charcoal eyes.
Arsenius.
The resultant pain in her chest was so acute it took her a moment to refocus. She slowed her breathing. However they had been separated, she had to get back to him. She just had to.

Images flickered through her brain, like the pages of a book being flipped by the wind. The Amazon camp, her Queen, Arsenius chained between two trees. Had she left him behind? No, she hadn’t. She’d freed him. They’d trekked through the forest.

An awful, frigid tingling had crept across the back of her neck, a sensation experience had taught her not to ignore. Yet she had. As the clamor of battle drifted toward them, Arsenius had sprinted in their direction, and she’d paid no heed to whatever watched her from behind.

That had been her first error.

The second was not calling out to Arsenius when she’d realized the creature behind her was a predator, and it was closing in. She’d detected his men fighting, though, and they’d required his aid. Foolishly, she’d presumed she could take care of her pursuer on her own.

Her third, and possibly most fatal mistake had landed her in this cell. She’d whirled about, only to come face to chest with a hideous beast. Horns as long as her arms curled out from either side of his head. His snout and feral red eyes were planted upon a face that was half-human, half-beast.

The minotaur’s body was more human than she’d envisioned, though the skin of the vast, muscled expanse of his chest was a deep red. Dark, prickly fur covered his bull-like legs.

From a distance, the minotaur wouldn’t have stood a chance against Kyme’s bow. This close, it was a useless weapon. She’d dropped the bow and used the sole weapon able to incapacitate him.

Her hands had glowed as she’d forced her energy into a single blast to the beast’s chest.

Yet his lips had curved in a cruel sneer, and in that moment, panic in its purest form had swept over her. The blast had deflected off the minotaur’s chest and shot back at her.

Never before had she suffered the sting of her own bite. Indeed, the only thing that had saved her life was the fact she hadn’t fully recharged her powers. Had she done so, she would not have been lying in this cell. Though she would have been lying on the earth for sure, awaiting her funeral pyre.

As she’d gasped for air, writhing on the forest floor, the beast had bent to her, the sulphurous stench of his breath filling her nostrils.

“I had expected more from you, Kyme.”

His voice had raked through her, deep and menacing. And then she had blacked out.

Kyme came to with a start on the cold, damp floor. The minotaur knew her name, her powers, and had somehow managed to thwart her attack. No wonder none of the other slavers had dared to accept this mission. They’d underestimated the beast.

Well, no longer.
This would not be a battle of strength, but of wits.

And only one of them would survive.

***

Arsenius cursed, loathing the intrusion into his mind and despising being forced to stand still while that monster had Kyme. His body compelled him to move, to pretend he was at least advancing toward rescuing her.

The others were right. She might be anywhere on this damned island. As desperate as he was to rip through every mountain, tear apart every tree with his bare hands, that would take an eternity. Time she did not have. The minotaur’s game was one of the mind, not strength of the body; therefore, his defeat lay in playing by those rules.

He unclenched his fists. Time enough later to shred the beast to pieces. He would make sure of it.

“Finished, Captain.” Venn seized a deferential stride backward. “‘Twould seem the beast chose to show you the truth, yet hide it from us. Verily, he did employ a Portal to pass through the rock—a doorway.” He cast an open hand toward the rock face behind them. “She is inside this mountain, but minotaurs are experts in designing labyrinths. We could search this mountainside for a decade and still not determine a passage of entry.”

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