Page 63 of A Dance With Fire
It wasn’t as if she was fooling anyone with that. They all knew what she was doing every time she made her way to the trees. She was hoping they’d get distracted enough so she could go away and make a new life for herself.
What she didn’t understand was that therewasno life beyond this. She would always run and always hide. If what the seer said was true and the Fire Dancer really was a key point in the war, then she had to realize that they needed her. They needed her to restore the balance, to win their lives back so they didn’t have to live in fear. So they could thrive once again. So there could be no more death or betrayal.
Once the sounds stopped and he heard the rustle of her clothes, he started forward again. He could see her slumped against a tree trunk, her head lolling, and he briefly wondered if she was going to puke and gritted his teeth together.
When Valerio had assigned him babysitting duty, holding her hair back while she puked her guts out wasn’t in the description. It wasn’t even something he wanted to do.
Silently, he made his way to her side, but she didn’t look up.
“You’ll have to carry me back because I’m not fucking moving,” she slurred quietly.
Ryker rolled his eyes. Stubborn wench.
“Come on.” He gripped her arm. “Let’s go.”
Her knees shook as she stood up, and then she suddenly slid off to the side and promptly fell to the ground. He just let her go with a sigh.
“Ew…” she groaned. “It’s sticky.”
That’s when the smell hit him. His nostrils flared and his ears twitched.
Shula pushed herself up and froze, her gaze going straight to what she’d fallen in.
Ryker didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed sooner. He was distracted, and the smell of her urine had been sharp enough to mask the smell of blood.
The copper scent hit him then, and both he and Shula found the puddle of it and followed the trail…
…straight to the dead body on the ground.
22
Like Blood
There were some things a Fae could note even in the darkness. Like how orange and red leaves could look bright like spilled rubies.
Like flames.
Like blood.
Her palms met the stickiness of it, and it took her mind but a moment later to capture the scent. It was so sharp, it permeated in her lungs and made her want to gag. It was a sobering moment, to realize she was lying in blood.
Even more sobering to follow the trail left behind towards the dead body mere feet away.
Shula opened her mouth, her wine-filled brain preparing to scream, but Ryker was there, clamping a big hand against her mouth to silence the sound.
He hauled her up to his chest and darted behind a thick tree.
This position felt familiar, only there was no desire here. There was the urgent pounding of his heart against her back. There was just the heart-pounding fear, the acrid scent of blood, and a dead body a few feet away that she realized too late who it belonged to.
And then there were footsteps. Several pairs and cruel, cold laughter.
She tensed and Ryker pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her midsection to keep her pressed tightly to his body. She wondered if he did it to ground himself or to protect her.
It didn’t matter.
She tried to silence her breathing, but her heart was pounding so hard she swore the people could hear it.
Their voices flittered over to them. Human, cruel.
