Page 7 of A Dream Shrouded in Fury
I took in the older scars—the obvious battle wounds and the strange markings along his collar bones.Those had caught my attention when I’d stripped off his torn, bloodied shirt, and I kept returning to them.They looked like symbols sliced into his flesh with a fine blade, each one no bigger than the pad of my thumb.I counted seven across his chest, each one so precise that he must have held deathly still for each stroke.Why would he have endured such pain?Had he done them himself?A tally of the lives he’d taken?Somehow I doubted it.The angles were too awkward to have been self-inflicted.
“Who are you?”I wondered aloud.“A soldier?An assassin?”
But it would be strange for an assassin to be afraid of the dark, which he obviously was.The way he’d reacted when he’d woken for those brief moments in the pitch blackness, in such a panic that I hadn’t been able to calm him, left little doubt.I could still hear the echo of his racing heart, feel the brush of his fingers as he’d scrabbled for an unseen anchor.I hadn’t allowed the candles to go out since, not wanting to add to his fear.
I had no idea why I was going through so much trouble.My life would be simpler if he didn’t pull through.
My stomach grumbled, and my gaze dropped to his neck.At the flutter of his pulse, my mouth watered.All day I’d sat next to him, breathing his scent.I’d washed the blood from him, suffered the torment of each rinse of the rag, and not once had my control slipped.But as fatigue and hunger gripped me, my restraint weakened.The desire to taste him was stronger than any past craving.One taste, I told myself.A useful move too, as my bite would create the temporary bond that would prevent him from harming me.He’d be inclined to do whatever I asked of him, even if it meant spilling his secrets.
Yearning nearly had me out of my chair, but I curled my fingers around the wood to keep me in place.For the same reason I hadn’t given in while washing him or while sitting near him, I had to hold back.He smelled so tantalizing that one taste would never be enough, and if I wanted him to wake up and answer my questions, he needed what little blood he had left.
To remove myself from temptation, I pushed to my feet.What I needed was a quick jaunt outside to catch something for breakfast, and then my control would slide back in place.
“Don’t worry, my beautiful secret, I won’t be long.When I’m back, maybe you’ll open your eyes and tell me your story.”
Not that I could trust him to tell me the truth.He’d probably try to trick me instead.But maybe, beneath the clever wordplay, he could explain to me why, for all my detachment, I couldn’t bear the thought of his life slipping away.
Jael
V
When my eyelids dragged open yet again, most of the fog was gone.I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was able to take in my surroundings without the world going off-kilter every time I moved.
Not that there was much to see.From the rock wall and ceiling, I was in some kind of cave, but the furniture suggested it wasn’t a random location.Someone had converted this space into a warm, homey hideaway.There were two crevices breaking the monotony of the walls, one on either side of the room.One was narrow, and I doubted anyone would be able to slip through.By the breeze coming through, I guessed the other was the exit.
I debated the wisdom of using it.
I had no idea who had saved me, just the faint memory of a pale, delicate face looming over me and then blackness.The sound of a soft voice.The darkness.Candlelight.
My gaze drifted to a narrow, rickety table against the wall across from the bed and the three beeswax tapers flickering in plain stone holders sitting on top of it.Had I not imagined her, then?
When I looked around, I found myself alone in the room.My clothes were nowhere to be seen, but what looked like a black shirt and breeches were folded on top of a woven basket on the floor.I couldn’t see my daggers anywhere, which caused me more concern.Depending on who this woman was, I might need to defend myself.In my current condition, I was useless without weapons.Not much more than an exhausted lump of flesh and pain.
I rolled onto my side and sucked in a breath at the stabbing agony that shot through my gut and around my back.Moving was a bad decision, but I couldn’t lie here and wait for trouble to find me.That was how I ended up bruised and beaten.That was how I’d wound up with my flesh covered in scars.
Never again would I not fight for myself.Even if I had to fight from the floor.
I slid my legs over the side of the bed, and the floor in question came up to meet me, generously catching me with its firm, cold embrace.
“Oh shit.”
The voice from before echoed softly through the room, then cool hands were on me, helping me sit up.“I didn’t think you’d be awake already.I’d hoped to be back before you were.Are you all right?Bad question, you’re not okay at all.You look like shit.But hey, you’re alive, right?That has to be unexpected.”
She helped me move until my back rested against the side of the bed, then sat back on her haunches and stared at me, making sure I wasn’t about to fall again before releasing me.“There.We’ll get you back in bed in a moment, but maybe catch your breath first.”
As if that were possible.At the sight of her, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to catch my breath again.While I’d hovered on the brink of death, she’d given me the impression of a spirit, a figure of such perfection that my fae brain couldn’t process it.
Now I could see I’d been wrong.She was flawed—the small scar on her chin and slight bend in her nose standing in the way ofperfect—but because of those flaws, she was even more beautiful than I’d originally thought.She wore all black leather, and her attire was designed to draw the eye to her figure.Her shirt covered her shoulders, crossed over her breasts, and created an upside-down vee that left her midriff bare and revealed the low-slung waistline of her leather breeches.
Her skin was radiant.In the candlelight, it seemed to emit a glow of its own.Her hair, a deep crimson, hung in a thick braid over her shoulder.Her lips were curled in a faint smile, and those eyes...as soon as I met her stare, I couldn’t look away.
They were a darker blue than I remembered, and so deep I could imagine falling into them and never wanting to climb out.So full of life I wasn’t sure how I’d ever confused her with a creature of death.
Vampire.
The reminder slapped me, and I blinked as I jerked away from her, memories pouring over me.Her fangs bared, her focus on my neck.How I’d offered myself to her.
Why hadn’t she drained me?Everything I’d learned about vampires was that they were ravenous, soulless parasites.Doomed to eternal night, born to be beautiful and alluring to draw in their prey.I should have been a bloodless husk by now, and yet…
