Twenty-Seven
Harsh Truth
Saber woke up to his body on fire and cock painfully hard. The realized his arm was around Tirah, and she was cuddled snugly in against his side. She felt nice, perfect. He wanted to swear. Get a grip already.
Careful not to wake her, he slipped from bed, and clenched his teeth against the desire to rejoin her. Instead he quickly left the room. He needed some distance, time to think. But once in the kitchen, all he could think about was Tirah. How she looked, how she felt next to him, and mostly, what had almost happened the night before.
Hellfire. She had no idea how close he’d come to losing control. And if that happened, surely she’d have ended up terrified of him. It had been ten years after all …
He brewed up a cup coffee, another Earth discovery, then cleaned up the remains of their supper. He picked up Tirah’s wine goblet and snorted. Tirah would definitely have a hangover after all she’d drank. Suddenly the desire to care for her, feed her, to see to her needs consumed him. Saber started to put a tray of stuff together. He was in the middle of cutting up more of the fruit she seemed to like, when he paused. What am I doing? I must be crazy.
Yet, if he was losing it, couldn’t he at least have some enjoyment before he was no longer himself? He looked at the huge amount of food, and put most of it back.
Then, even though he knew it wasn’t wise with how badly he wanted her, Saber went back into the bedroom. He set the jug of fruit juice, along with the plate of salty crisps and fruit on the bedside table.
Finally, he pulled a chair over and sat, unable to take his eyes from Tirah as she slept. Her lashes rested peacefully against her cheeks, and her lips begged him to taste them once again. She had shifted and he noticed that the black sheet was pulled up just enough to cover her nipples, yet showed the sweet curve of her bosom. The contrast of her creamy skin against the dark cover made him groan, and he remembered how she’d felt and tasted the evening before. She offered herself to you. You are such an idiot, the voice in his head taunted.
Saber grimaced as needles lanced his skull once again, and his cock throbbed with need. In all his years, he had never reacted this strongly to another female.
What was he going to do with her? It was obvious he wouldn’t be able to torture or kill her.
As he watched, Tirah shifted. Saber’s eyes were once more drawn to her hands. She hadn’t answered when he questioned her about them, and he couldn’t help but wonder what happened. He’d get it out of her eventually, and if whoever had done that to her was still alive, it wouldn’t be for long.
A low moan drew his eyes back to Tirah’s and he watched them open. He caught the flicker of horror and knew she must be remembering the evening before.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Ah …” She swallowed deeply and red flushed her face.
“Here.” Saber handed her the glass of fruit juice, ignoring her obvious embarrassment. “Drink this, it will help.”
Averting her gaze, Tirah sat up, holding the sheet against her, and accepted the drink. “Thanks.” She drank only a tiny bit, then paled and set it back on the table. “I can’t.”
Saber nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. “There’s some crisps for when you’re able to keep more down.”
Tirah lowered her head into her hands. “I’m never drinking that ale again.”
Saber chuckled. “It’s not so bad if you don’t drink that much, but it’s probably worse for you, since you’re Human.” He was fishing. He knew she wasn’t completely Human. Yet her ears weren’t pointed like the Elvren, and he didn’t catch the scent of Were, and she definitely wasn’t a Walker. They had a faint but distinct odor of blood, which was their main source of nourishment. But there were all kinds of supernatural beings out there, and some were experts at disguising their defining scent.
Bright-amber eyes peered up at him, and Saber wondered what she was thinking. Tirah shook her head and lay back down. “Nope, never again.”
“What can you tell me about the spell that was cast on my brother that night?” he asked.
Tirah looked up at him sharply, and her face broke into an intense frown. “That’s what you asked me last night, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Saber waited.
Tirah’s frown deepened in thought. “I felt the magic, it felt evil, sick, but I had just—” She stopped.
“You had just what?” Saber pressed.
Tirah took a deep breath. “My superior wanted me to do something. I refused. I was trying to get away. The ground was coming apart.”
Saber growled and stood up. He began to pace, then stopped. “You have no idea what spell was used.”
Tirah stared at him. “I’m sorry, what we did was so wrong, I wanted no part of it.” Understanding lit her eyes. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
Saber took a deep breath. There had to be something. He couldn’t accept that this was it. His head started to pound and fatigue set in, making it hard to think properly.
“I hadn’t realized what happened—that anyone had been sent to Hades or anywhere,” she said.
“Yeah, well, it happened.”
Tirah was silent, and Saber’s hope died as he realized she really had no clue. He’d been chasing her all these years, thinking she’d have the information he needed to get Adarias back, and she knew nothing about it.
Despair began to settle in as the torture in his skull intensified.
Tirah’s gaze sharpened on him. “What’s wrong?”
Surprised once again, he shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Tirah frowned. “No, you’re not.”
She gave a loud sigh when he didn’t answer, then yawned. Saber nodded at the bed. “I’ll let you get some more sleep.”
“Fine, thank you, but—” She hesitated.
“But what?”
Tirah bit her lip, and Saber wanted to groan. “Well, if you aren’t going to kill me, then let me go. I have something I need to do.”
“What do you need to do?” he asked suspiciously.
“I just have to be somewhere,” she answered evasively.
Saber stared at her, then left before she could see how deeply her words hit him.
He checked on her often over the next couple of hours, between talking with his brother Zales and answering a demand from Cass as to what was happening.
“I’ve got it under control,” he told his friend.
Cass snorted. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Saber didn’t answer because in all reality, he had nothing under control. “Something is up with her and her squad. I think she might have been a pawn,” he said instead. Where that left him in regard to getting Adarias back, Saber had no idea, and if the madness in his mind was any indication, time was running out.
“She’s pretty, don’t let her fool you.” Cass growled.
Saber growled right back at him. She was more than just pretty, and despite her ten years of running and hiding, there was a goodness, an innocence to her that she’d managed to retain. Plus, he had always known when someone told a lie, and no matter how much he didn’t want to be wrong, he felt that Tirah spoke the truth. At least what she believed to be the truth.
“Have you read her mind?” Cass asked.
“She has strong shields.” Saber grimaced at the question.
“Well, some of the Ilyium do. Still, I’d have thought she wouldn’t,” Cass said musingly.
That put Saber’s defenses up. “Why?”
He could almost see Cass shrug. “She seems soft …”
Saber growled.
“You know how to find out for sure,” Cass suggested.
Saber took a deep breath and tried to hold onto his temper.
Cass snarled at him. “Just have sex with her already, get into her head, and learn the truth.” Then his friend was gone.
Cass’s words kept running through Saber’s mind as he checked on Tirah again. She still slept, though the covers had gotten tangled around her legs. I am not having sex with her just to read her mind. I’ll make her tell me what is going on another way. Plus, he was pretty sure she really didn’t know.
Saber wanted nothing more than to join her in bed and take what she had offered. Instead, he pulled the cover back over her and left the room. He stopped in one of the empty chambers. When he first made his lair hundreds of years ago, he’d been hopeful that one day he’d have Young to fill the place with laughter. That dream had long ago died as no mate emerged. Then as the years went on, more and more family and friends died as well.
Saber paced from one space to the next, stopping in the doorway of each room. Tirah had checked them all out as well, but the smell of honeysuckle was strongest in the library. Then he spotted the book she’d been reading on a small table beside an overstuffed chair. His favorite chair. Saber picked up the book and smiled, then set it back down. It felt good—right—having her in his home.
Finally, as the three suns began to set, and with his head clanging like a bad band, he made his way back into the bedroom to find Tirah sitting up. The jug of juice was empty.
“You’re awake,” he said and picked up the empty container. “I’ll get you some more.” The plate of crisps was empty as well. “Are you hungry?”
Without looking at him, she nodded and clutched the sheet closer.
“I’ll be right back.” He hurried back to the kitchen and grabbed the food he’d put away earlier. Then using his dragonfire, he heated it up. He set the plate on the tray, added more juice and water, and took it back to her.
Wary eyes met his as he handed her the tray. Then she took in the food and her eyes widened. “You really do know how to cook, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer, just sat down and watched with satisfaction as she eagerly dug in. “This is really good.”
“Why’d you do it?” he asked.
Tirah paused, the eating utensil halfway to her mouth. “Huh?” She blushed a bright red.
“Ten years ago, when you killed Maya.” He clarified his question.
Tirah gulped and stared down at her mostly empty plate. Then she set the tray on the bedside table. “I already told you.”
“Tell me again, and start from the beginning,” he said.
Her gaze quickly shifted from his to her lap. She twisted her hands together. “I was just out of training, and this was my first mission.” Tirah paused for a moment. “You have to understand, my mother—”
Fury swamped Saber at her words. “The only thing I understand is a sweet female, who was loved as a healer and had two Young and a mate at home, was lured into a trap and murdered. Then while half of your people lay dead, the rest fleeing for their lives, my brother was sucked into hell.”
The sight of Tirah flinching helped Saber rein in his temper.
“I’m so sorry. If I would have known what was going to happen, I’d have done everything in my power to stop it, or at least not be a part of it,” she whispered, and he immediately felt the desire to soothe her, tell her it was all going to be okay. Yet, was it? If he accepted what she said, then he’d never get his brother back, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.