Текст книги "Blood Warrior"

Автор книги: Lindsey Piper

Соавторы: Lindsey Piper
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CHAPTER

TWO

What’s to stop me from screaming with my mouth and shouting with my mind?”

Grinning tightly, Tallis shook his head. “You would’ve done both already. And even on your lying face, I can see it—you can’t read my thoughts. Frustrating, goddess?”

“I’m not a goddess. My name is Kavya.”

He raised his brows. “Very pretty.”

Her jaw tightened. “No. I can’t read your mind. Who areyou?”

“Tallis. Search that piecemeal soul of yours. You’ll know me.”

“They warned me,” she said, almost to herself. “I didn’t listen. How long have you been tracking me?”

He was pleased his gamble had paid off. Everyone had heard of the Sun Cult, but its leader was elusive. Cult bodyguards had felt his presence as he’d neared his objective. They’d reached out with tap-tap touches into his mind. Curious, then angered. Repeatedly they’d warned her of a coming danger. She’d reached out with her own gift—and sensed nothing. He’d been reluctant to depend on her telepathic blind spot, but recognizing it had been the genesis of his plan.

There behind the altar, he slowly released her neck. There was no explanation for why he trailed the soft, fine strands of her hair down over one shoulder.

She shivered.

No, there wasan explanation. He’d been seduced by this woman for twenty years. That he’d want to admire her, to touch her—

He cut off his thought as surely as he would’ve cut her out of his mind, had he been able.

While he’d waited for her to finish her infuriating speech about peace and hope, Tallis had witnessed a living lie—a slippery eel pretending to be Everywoman. Now he had her attention. The disguise she drew from the impressions of a hundred minds began to slip.

Or simply . . . change. He couldn’t tell.

A man who lived rough in the world learned to trust his instincts, yet his had been corrupted by the Sun’s voice in his sleeping mind. She bled into every aspect of his life, like placing a magnet next to a compass. His true north was long gone.

For a Pendray that was especially infuriating. As creatures of the elements, his clan had inspired a pantheon of deities among hearty Celts, Picts, Norse, and Saxons. To remain so uncertain of the natural world would be even worse than losing his berserker rage.

This woman deceived everyone who looked upon her face. Who could trust her words if she presented whatever facade a person wanted to see?

“I’ll go with you,” she said at last. “Peacefully.”

“Good.”

He slid his fingers down her golden sari and clasped her hand, then mocked her with a smile. “We’re just taking a walk.”

“Where?”

“My tent.”

She jerked her arm, but Tallis wouldn’t let go. “You’re sick. No one . . . No one—”

“Takes you to his tent? I’m not surprised. You play in dreamscapes instead.” He adjusted his hold so that their bodies pressed side to side. “Come.”

Tallis dragged her through the stone archway that led away from the rear of the altar. They emerged into plain sight. Several dozen followers stood nearby.

“They may wonder why you’re walking so close to a Pendray,” he said near her ear. “But they trust you. Everyone you’ve touched with that witch’s mind has come to trust you. So keep walking.”

He tightened his hold on the low curve of her hip. She flinched and tried to draw away. “Let me go. I’ve come willingly this far.”

Tallis ignored her entreaty. Too much bitterness needed to be purged from his blood. “I wonder how many wish they could hold you this closely. Do you lie awake counting the minds you’ve warped? Enjoy becoming their fantasy?”

“I’ve never done anything of the kind,” she hissed. “I am a peaceful woman. I keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Being one of the Heartless must be useful when you use people the way you do.”

“Clan-based hatred is revolting. Don’t tell me you subscribe to those old prejudices.”

“I subscribe to bare facts. A deceiving witch leading gullible worshipers is a threat to every Dragon King.”

The sun—the realsun—was arcing westward. The valley would be dark long before nightfall. The steep angles of the Pir Panjal determined when the rays no longer reached the earth. Tallis strained every sense, trustworthy or not, and steadily guided his captive to his tent.

Then he shoved her between parted canvas folds. She fell to her knees as he pushed in behind her. “Much better, goddess.”

“Kavya.”

“Fine. Hold still, Kavya.”

She gasped as he searched for weapons concealed within layers of gold silk. Wiggling away from each touch, she was wide-eyed and edgy. She jerked as if his hands were hot irons. Tallis grabbed a rope from his knapsack and bound her wrists and ankles. She struggled against the hemp, but every movement tightened the sharp grip.

He rolled her onto her side. “Being helpless at the will of a more powerful force is a scary thing. I never liked it. You?”

Kavya looked away and blinked a sheen of moisture from her eyes. “You could at least tell me what you want! I can help you. Obviously you don’t want to be here.”

“We’re staying put,” he said. “Days will come and go. Your followers will know what I’ve learned—that you’ve deceived them. Wasted their hopes.” He traced a finger along her cheek, down to where blood had dried on her neck. “You’ll witness one disappointed face at a time, until no one will ever again worship a woman named the Sun.”

He retreated a few feet and crossed his legs. Kavya had stopped moving after her initial struggle. Self-preservation? Scheming? Probably both. A woman didn’t rise up from dirt-strewn slums to command an army without possessing canny skills.

The Sun was no idiot.

She wasn’t the goddess of his dreams. Neither was she the plain, almost anonymous orator.

Instead she was able to gather ready-made inspiration straight from her followers’ minds. En masse.How did she do that? What if she had the power to affect other Dragon Kings the way she’d manipulated him? Her influence could be catastrophic. Not even the Honorable Giva, the leader of the Five Clans, could compete with such a rival.

No Indranan should have that much power. No oneshould.

So he stared. And she did. As the hours passed, they played poker with their gazes.

“You might as well sleep.” His voice was rough, especially since his last words to her had been filled with such bile. He was going to hate her for a very long time. “You would have rested before your announcement.”

Light blazed in her brown eyes, as if mountains could glow. “No, I would’ve been walking among my people, making sure the agreement I’ve helped broker remains secure. You have no idea what’s at stake today.”

“You’re probably right,” he said flippantly.

She pushed her feet against the hard ground, found purchase, and struggled to sit up. The hemp rope creaked. The effort to appear strong for pride’s sake must have cost her body. Kneeling on her heels, with her hair a mess around her heart-shaped face, she raised her chin. Tallis was perturbed by his unconscious reaction, because that subtle movement chastened him without a word.

Why did he keep underestimating her? Maybe he remained susceptible to her ways—not to her telepathy, but to her natural charisma. He couldn’t find a strong line between the two, which was disturbing as hell.

“You are a bigot and a troublemaker,” she said with a voice made of bells and iron. “Some petty slight has brought this injustice on me. You’re going to ruin everything.”

Her expression hardened. Nothing overt. Eyes that had been passive took on a cold distance. Her mouth was shaped by voluptuous lips that pressed into a fixed line. Her hair was noticeably longer now—dark, with caramel streaks that highlighted its thick richness. Even her cheekbones seemed higher and more exotic. The anonymous image she’d presented on the altar was completely gone. Tallis’s memory of it lingered like having looked at the sun before closing his eyes, still seeing the image behind his eyelids.

“Your slights have not been petty,” he grated out.

“How do you know I haven’t been contacting my people for the last few hours, telling them to lie in wait for you?”

“I’ll take that chance. I’ve beentaking it.” He grinned, which actually made her flinch. The Pendray weren’t very guarded with their expressions, and he’d lived in the human world for years. He liked the freedom of making his feelings known without language. That also meant being able to surprise Dragon Kings, who never expected such animation from their own kind. “You’ve been too distracted. At best, you’ve been successful and I’ll find out soon enough. But I think you suffer from the illusion you’ve created. How many would know your genuine call of distress?”

He shifted onto his knees before leaning down to kiss her cheek. Softly. Innocently. The touch was nothing more impassioned than a man might bestow on a sister.

The telltale hitch of her unsteady breath gave her away, despite how quickly she reclaimed her composure. He smiled. How often were Indranan surprised?

She smelled of the thin, cold Himalayan wind. She was warm beneath his lips when he kissed her again—an impression he could trust. Her shiver was honest, too. The Sun would’ve concealed that weakness had she been able.

“My seaxes didn’t intimidate you as much as when I held your waist,” he whispered against her temple. “Violence won’t keep your mind occupied. But I can.”

He traced his tongue along the line of her jaw. His stir of reaction was not surprising. His people had always been base and earthy, and she’d been tempting him for years. Now . . .

Now he knew how she tasted.

“I intend to use every method I can to make sure your thoughts remain right here, in this tent. With me.”

–

This man, Tallis, was as intimidating as he was impossible to understand. He spoke in riddles. Being unable to skim his thoughts was pure frustration, like attempting to see through granite or hear a pin drop halfway around the world. She’d tried to find her bodyguards among a multitude of Indranan thoughts, but so many wore Masks—mental distortion blocks to protect them from being detected by prowling siblings.

Even if she had found them, Kavya couldn’t jeopardize the tranquility of the assembly. To do so now would bring about Tallis’s dreadful scenario: the failure of all she’d worked toward for decades.

Her mind raced. Her wrists and ankles ached. And her lips burned with the touch of this stranger’s kiss.

Tallis was different. Frighteningly different.

A mind I can’t read.

She shouted into his brain until her gift retaliated with a walloping headache. She’d have been better served by smacking her forehead against the ground. Trying to compensate with her senses was nearly useless. Who of her clan needed them?

All they really needed was a Dragon-forged sword to kill . . . or a Mask to hide.

Every Indranan was born as a twin or, in Kavya’s case, as a triplet. Siblings grew up knowing that the Dragon had divvied up their true potential in the womb. Learn to share. So few did. By committing fratricide, the Indranan could unite fractured pieces into a whole. Some called them twice-blessed, although twice-cursed was more accurate. Murderous twins carried with them the screams of the departed.

The ability to read another’s mind was the most intoxicating, terrifying gift among the Five Clans. To keep from wanting more was the ultimate responsibility.

The Heartless.

Kavya had never protested the derogatory nickname. She’d simply fought to rise above that hideous legacy.

Her fight at the moment centered on Tallis. With his face tilted down and decorated with a maddening smile, he was as solid in body as he was opaque of mind. She’d suspected that he hid strength under unassuming clothing and a lean fighter’s frame. She hadn’t known how that strength would feel, pressed intimately along her silk-clad hip as they’d walked through the valley.

Now he knelt before her. Body to body. Heat against heat.

He was holdingher.

He’d slipped his hands beneath the long sleeves of her sari and cupped her restrained arms. His fingers were warm, blunt, strong. When was the last time she’d been graced by anything more than reverent touches? This was prolonged contact. This was calluses against smooth skin. Because she couldn’t read his mind, she compensated with a desperate scramble for information.

He smelled of dust and juniper.

He was a foot taller.

He had eyes the color of the sea at its darkest depths, but not the Indian Ocean—some frigid, azure wasteland.

Kavya’s attention kept slipping back to him. She couldn’t even find Chandrani, her best friend and closest ally since childhood. Chandrani was the only person who knew Kavya’s mind without its Mask—the only person except for Pashkah. Without the Masks she’d worn since the age of twelve, Kavya would’ve been at her brother’s mercy. If he succeeded in killing her, Pashkah would become something unholy.

This stranger knew how he was affecting her and had piercingly guessed that violence was a fact of life for Kavya, as it was for every Indranan. She’d spent her adolescence in the rough cubbies and alleys of Delhi. A girl didn’t survive places so perilous without witnessing terrible things and developing protective skills. The net result was that to be threatened by a blade—even one as intimidating as his seax—had nothing on the distraction of being held.

Thought began and ended with Tallis’s arms sliding down to her backside.

No.

No!

Chandrani!

Except for her rabbit’s-heart pulse, she held perfectly still. Chandrani would find her. Kavya had to believe—and bide her time.

Her feet and calves were going to sleep, but she hadn’t wanted this man to lord over her with his height, strength, and the weight of his stare. Not that it had mattered after he’d assumed the same stance. They looked like worshipers at prayer, supplicated before one another.

What he’d done to her . . .

What he keptdoing. The trace of his lips from the divot behind her ears to the tendon of her neck was like nothing she’d ever experienced. What was this madness? Had his ramblings been a strange cover for his desire to bind her, even ravish her? Sensation shot through her limbs and down her spine. Her thighs trembled—nothing he would see, but she resented her weakness.

“Those people who revere you,” he said against the skin he’d made damp by his tongue. “Do they know how you taste? Do they wonder? Do some fantasize about claiming the body of a living deity?”

Kavya punched her shoulder against his jaw. “Get off me, you Pendray filth. Always thinking with your cocks and your work-worn hands. If you think at all.”

He smiled as if hewere the mind reader. “Stereotypes, eh? Wasn’t that my sin a few hours ago? We could play that way all day, but my game is better.” He grabbed a fistful of hair. “Tell me, goddess. Do you likethat they imagine fucking you? Or that I have? For years.”

Her heart shuddered. He was sick, yet her body reacted to his crude words. No wonder the Indranan lived apart from baser clans, no matter the danger within their own.

“That’s why you brought me here? In a camp full of people loyal to me?”

“Ah, so they’re loyal to you. Not to your cause. You give yourself away.”

“No, they have dreams of a better future and hope for the safety of their families. What I offer them is beautiful and pure.”

“Pure,” he said, the word thick with sarcasm. He sounded English—not the typical Pendray blend of Scots and Norse—but certainly refined and exotic to her ears. “I’m sure the Sun burns away all sin and all thoughts of flesh and desire.”

Kavya yanked her head back, but he only pulled her hair taut and dug hard fingers into her hip. He scraped his teeth along her throat. She bit back a cry of indignation.

“I like how you taste, goddess. I even like these twists and fights. Those are real. You’re giving me quite a lot. I’m owed more, but this is a start.”

Kavya closed her eyes. His mouth’s caress was wrong and ghastly—and yet intriguing. What she knew about sex was . . . vicarious. Being a telepath meant catching scraps of feeling and unbidden images. The first touch of skin to skin, the moment of penetration, the ravage of climax. By comparison, those impressions were ephemeral and distant as Tallis licked her throat.

Yes, he was keeping her mind occupied. He was watching her as if examining the progression of a sick experiment: tempt the untouched with sex and see how she reacts.

The results were obvious. She’d reacted with surprise, a hint of revulsion, and greed. She’d had no idea she could be so untrustworthy. That realization was shocking. She’d always thought herself above.

Then he kissed her full on the mouth.

His body bowed over hers. She felt surrounded. Overwhelmed. Firm lips. Spicy taste. His heavy breathing remained tightly controlled. Her breathing and pulse, however, were panicky. More struggles. More casual restraint on his part. He used his arms to engulf her more completely. His strength made her struggles seem as fragile as cobwebs.

“I could do that all night.” He broke the kiss and threw her to the ground. “Maybe I will. But I’d just as soon kill you as assault you. I said I don’t want you martyred. I want noplace for you in this world. When I’m through with you, no one will remember you with anything other than bitterness. If they remember you at all.”

CHAPTER

THREE

Tallis shed his heavy leather jacket and levered over where she sprawled on the ground. He edged his thighs between hers, then shifted so that his pelvis fit snugly against hers. He wore sturdy military-style cargo pants, while Kavya still wore only silk. She would be able to feel his desire taking physical form.

“Should I kiss you again?” He only touched her from the waist down, where he used the weight of his pelvis and thighs as more threat than seduction. Arms straight, he braced his hands on either side of her head. “I’d learn secrets about the Sun you’re too arrogant to admit possessing.”

“More of the so-called justice you seek? I’ve done nothing to you!”

“You know my weaknesses better than I do. Every fantasy—even those I can’t arrange into thought.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve used that knowledge against me for years,” he said, his voice deepening with anger. “If I resisted, you invaded dream after dream like a monster. You’d raid another locked closet in my head to find more secrets. You even profaned the Dragon to legitimize your crimes.” He was still aroused. Kissing her had been calculated, but he’d been swept into the vortex where fantasy swirled with reality. “I have the power now. Is it any surprise that I desire to use it against you?”

A clamor of voices came from beyond the tent’s dingy white canvas. For a moment Tallis thought she’d managed to telepathically call for help, but she wore no expression of triumph. Then came more voices, more chaos.

He edged away and grabbed the deadly Norse seaxes he’d kept out of her reach. Tallis parted the canvas and peered through.

His sense of hearing gave away her attack from behind, as Kavya swung a cooking pot. The determination and, frankly, the vehemence in her glittering brown eyes were pure surprise. Ropes around her ankles meant she had one chance before losing her balance, but she made the most of it. The bulk of the pot hit his shoulder. One seax with its etched blade and honed edge skidded along the bare rock floor.

She rolled onto her back and grabbed the hilt in both bound hands. A quick slice parted the ropes at her ankles. She spun so that she knelt again, bloodying her knees. Shins braced against the ground gave her more stability. The split skirt of her sari bared the sleek skin of her thigh.

He rubbed the slight ache in his shoulder. “I’d hoped there was more to you than words and specters.”

“Why would you think that of an opponent you profess to hate?”

Her eyes were bright and widely spaced, wedded to the high, rounded apples of her cheeks. She had a tiny nose and a chin that, for all her defiance, was softly shaped. Tallis shivered. This was her, really her, not the witch who’d infected his dreams for two decades. The real Sun, this woman Kavya, was the perfect compromise between truth and fantasy, virgin and whore—a bound innocent holding his blade.

Although she remained still, ready for the attack he would surely make, she vibrated with near-visible energy. Tallis could practically smell the heady cologne of her fear and focus. He would’ve bet the rest of his life that she hadn’t smelled that way on the altar. There, she’d been focused but unafraid. Her telepathic invasions were vile, even though the surprising resilience of her fighting spirit made him smile deeper.

“I like to think,” he said, “that when I break you, I’ll have broken someone who deserved the worst I can dish out. Seems you’re in the mood to make me a happy man.”

“Happy? I want you dead.” A look of horror crossed her face. She inhaled sharply, which lifted the supple curve of breasts draped in silk. She appeared ready to vomit.

Tallis chuckled. “You didn’t mean to say that, did you?”

Exaggerating the ache in his shoulder, crouching before her, he shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. Rather than leap, he leaned and swept his right leg. The toe of his boot caught behind her upper thigh with a hard kick. He yanked. Between the blow and the pull, she fell hard onto her side.

She coughed, struggling for air. He pushed forward with two crouched strides and snatched the stolen blade from her bound hands.

“The Sun has some fight. Gratifying, but it won’t change anything.” The gathering ferment outside the tent renewed its hold on his attention. “Stay. Unless you want to remain unaware of what’s happening among your flock.”

Her mouth was . . . gorgeous. There was no other word. Bee-stung lips twisted into a sneer. “Do it.”

“That’s the only command of yours I’ll obey.”

Intending to piss her off, he took one more taste of the lips he’d never believed could be real. Seeing her in the flesh, tasting and smelling and touching her—those intimacies made her night visits more ephemeral. They were mere shadows compared to the sweet bitterness of the kiss he took without permission.

She bit him. Tallis reared back. He swiped a hand against his mouth and came away with blood.

“That wasn’t very nice, goddess.”

But he was still grinning.

Both seaxes firmly grasped, Tallis peered outside again. Dusk approached to take the place of full sunlight. Amiable pods of Indranan had been gathered around their fire pits. Now they hurried around wearing frightened expressions.

Strange.

Tallis’s own clan, the Pendray, suffered from historic self-esteem issues, but at least they displayed what they felt without pretense. They were boisterous and unapologetic. The Indranan, however, were made of mystery. To see the camp transformed into a frenzied, buzzing collection of scared souls was shocking—so many emotions laid surprisingly bare.

“Let me go,” came the persuasive voice at his back. “Whatever grudge you hold against me, you know I can calm them.”

“No. Their panic will remain unaddressed by their savior. Seeing you discredited and ruined has always been my goal, no matter that I enjoyed kissing you.” He couldn’t help another mocking smile. “But that was absolutely necessary.”

“You’re crazy and spiteful and, to be honest, a sickening excuse for a Dragon King.”

“ To be honest?An interesting choice of words.”

He turned away, chagrined by the power she wielded without thought to the consequences. The fervor had died down, but only because hurrying worshipers had frozen solid, no matter where they stood. Their attention was focused on the altar.

Tallis narrowed his eyes. A man stood where the Sun had delivered her pandering benediction. He was tall, with a commanding presence. His hair was brown, his features sharp, his clothing black on black. Among those gathered in the valley, his layers of leather and protective plates of silver armor stood out like a burn on a child’s skin.

The Sun was a warmonger in silks, but this stranger was pure violence. No pretense. Grim lines flanked his mouth. A sharp, narrow nose and brow that was no lighter for its elegance. Those features weren’t masked. They were solid and brazen and true to Tallis’s every sense. And what he saw was a remarkable resemblance to the Sun.

“You were expecting someone else,” the stranger intoned, his words hypnotic. They echoed back across the valley like a one-two punch of spellbinding power. “You were expecting a savior. I’m here to say there is no such thing. And there’s no such thing as reconciliation between the factions of the Indranan. There never will be.”

Tallis turned and grabbed the Sun by the scruff and dragged her to the tent’s opening. Her face had gone chalk white. The color looked sick and unnatural on a Dragon King, but it was especially disturbing when it leeched the soft charisma of her beauty.

“Who is that?” Tallis was more agitated than he would have liked, but the unexpected was always a threat.

“That.” She swallowed. “That is Pashkah of the Northern Indranan. My brother.”

–

If skin could turn to ice, Kavya’s would have had more in common with the glaciers up the Rohtang Pass.

She hadn’t seen Pashkah since she was twelve years old. No matter that span of years, she would never mistake his stance, his face—the face he hadn’t bothered to disguise. He’d never needed to. Even as a boy, he’d been able to hold a freakishly blank expression so well that not even she or Baile, their sister, could gauge his emotions. Demons and monsters and ghouls were nothing compared to his uncanny nothingness. Had she been able to understand him, with telepathy or her senses, she might have been able to save Baile.

But in those final moments of her life, Baile hadn’t wanted to be saved. Before Pashkah had taken her head, she’d wanted his just as much.

The triplet who wielded the sword gained the power, leaving Kavya unaffected. She hadn’t just remained in her childhood home so she could become his next victim. She’d run.

Now, having reduced their family to a series of grim victories, Pashkah stood within a few hundred yards of success. He would take Kavya’s gift and add it to the power he’d stolen from Baile. He would become thrice-cursed with his true potential sewn together in violence—while the shrieks of two dead sisters would destroy his sanity.

Tallis shook her by the hair. “What is this, part of your big announcement? Bring in muscle to make sure everyone complies?”

“This is my brother having found me after decades of searching. This is . . . this is the brink of chaos. Worse than you even thought of threatening with two barbarian swords.”

She jerked free of his hold and stared him down. At least now she knew who he was. His true identity.

Tallis of Pendray. The Heretic.

She still wasn’t able to read his mind, but his seax held residual memories so strong that she’d caught flashes of his true self. His identity. His life on the run.

A man of myth. But still a man.

“You don’t need telepathy to sense the panic.” She tipped her chin toward where Pashkah owned the altar—the altar she’d hoped would be host to an evening of peaceful triumph. “Those are lambs being herded toward a butcher’s knife. This man is fear and danger. Nothing I’ve done, no matter your delusions, will match the crimes he’s capable of committing.”

“He’s your brother. I wouldn’t expect anything less than deceit and mind-warping delusions.”

Kavya’s heart was expanding with each beat, until it shoved against her trachea. Everything she’d worked for was at Pashkah’s mercy. “Do you hate me so much that you deny the obvious? Look at the men at his back. Every one of them is twice-cursed.”

“You can tell? You’re reading their minds?”

“I don’t need to. They’re Pashkah’s Black Guard. Whole communities have been rolled over by their arrival.”

“He kills Dragon Kings? The Council and the other clans would’ve heard about that.”

Kavya shook her head, her eyes filling. “Not killing. Trying to breed. The Black Guard was responsible for the Juvine forty years ago, when women were stolen from the South and held captive here in the mountains. Retaliation after retaliation followed, reviving the same deeds and the same hatreds that split our clan three thousand years ago. By trapping me, you’ve given him unchecked permission. The Black Guard will continue its spree.”

Tallis had fascinating skin—smooth except for those places where emotions pushed to the surface. So animated for a Dragon King, he frowned with his whole face until it took on the gravity of a pending typhoon. Finally he seemed to be taking her fear seriously.

“Unbind me,” she said, pressing her advantage.

“So you can flee? What do you think I am?”

“An idiotic, brainless thing. All I want is to face my brother without ropes around my wrists.” She forced strength into her voice just as she’d forced calm into her body. “You wanted me discredited, not martyred, remember?”

“That I can agree with.”

“First obeying me, now agreeing with me. You’ll be undone by dawn.”

“Suddenly you expect to live that long,” he said with an edge of a smile.

“You have no idea the consequences if I don’t. Forget martyrdom. I’ll be the dead soul that gives Pashkah what he’s always wanted: the powers of a thrice-cursed Indranan.”

He shook his head. “Legend.”

“No, fact. Just like how the Heretic seems to have graced me with his presence.”

That caught him off guard, but only for a moment. “So you admit it. You’ve known who I am.”

“For the last few moments, yes. Your weapon tells tales to a telepath, even if I can’t read your mind. But none of it means your accusations hold merit.”

He silenced her by dragging a seax nearer to her flesh. Although she shuddered, she appreciated the knife more than his kiss. She could endure pain. Life had taught her those lessons and the means of coping with what no one should have to endure. The surprise of pleasure, however, was still frothing through her veins. Every hair stood on end. Her skin pulled toward his touch and his Dragon-damned kisses.

The conflicting emotions were too much to process.

The tip of the seax was as fine as the point of a needle. Engraved scrollwork along the blade caught the last of the dying sunshine. She recognized the etchings as the ancient language of the Pendray but had no idea of their meaning. Tallis slid the tip between her wrists and sliced the ropes with one swift cut. No wasted motion. Perfect mastery of his weapon.