Dragon’s Temptation: Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book Fifteen Page 12
Everything changed in that instant. It wasn’t a fight for me then, it was survival, protecting her.
“Good fight,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping back far enough to give him a full bow.
There is no point in antagonizing him or the others. The group of them stare, their gazes making my scales itch. Ashlee dominates my thoughts, images of her flitting through my mind, making it impossible for me to read the situation before me.
Are they angry? Will they respect me or target me? Doubts rise, but a messenger interrupts before anything else can happen. He races up, bows to Typhon, then to me.
“Tashak would like to meet with you,” he says.
“Of course,” I say, struggling to catch my breath.
Turning back to Typhon and the others I salute again.
“Thank you for the opportunity. My luck in this case is undeniable,” I say, giving him a way to save face.
“Right,” Typhon says, thoughtfully, one hand rubbing his neck where my blade was a few moments ago. “We’ll talk.”
There’s nothing more to be said so I turn and follow the messenger. The fight replays in my mind’s eye, focusing on the moment I felt like he threatened Ashlee. He didn’t, not really, no Zmaj would. His words were intended to be playful, of that I have no doubt. My reaction was out of proportion to the threat they represented.
Because of her.
I love the Order. I truly do. It is all I have ever known, but for the first time I wonder what else there could be.
Ashlee represents another aspect of life, one that is completely new and exotic. She said one does not choose love, that it just is. That rings true for me and deepens my understanding of Archion’s plight.
I saw it as a choice, an unwise one at that, but now…
We arrive outside Tashak’s office door and I thank the messenger before walking in. Tashak is sitting behind his desk, clearly awaiting me.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Khal,” he says, an unnecessary courtesy.
“Of course. How may I be of service to the Order?”
Tashak nods, folding his hands in front of his flat stomach, sitting straighter on his stool.
“Yes. It is on the subject of your brother. I know it is a topic that has been discussed and re-discussed. But I want your opinion on a very specific matter.”
“What matter?” I ask carefully.
“Do you believe your brother should be demoted?” he asks, his eyes boring into me.
Demoted?
“No. I do not,” I answer immediately and truthfully.
There’s a brief flash of surprise on his face, then he nods slowly. His fingers, interlaced across his stomach, tighten and his eyes narrow.
“You do not think Archion should be demoted,” he repeats, as if making sure he heard me correctly.
“Correct.”
He raises a brow, leaning forward, seeming to find that very interesting. I knew the Order would not look upon his actions favorably, but I cannot agree with this line of questioning. It is unclear if Archion has lost favor creating an opening for my advancement or not, but it would be a mistake.
He is an excellent fighter, an excellent leader. Perhaps I can ask—
The loud gong of the alarm reverberates through the office. Tashak leaps to his feet and races toward the door as I turn too. Both of us leave the office, Tashak going in one direction and I in the other.
I race through the tunnels to the upper levels, seeking the source of the alarm. Others race to their posts and we squeeze past each other. The sound of the gong continues, echoing off of the carved stone walls.
Emerging from the tunnel into the hallway that leads to where Archion and the females are being kept, I spot Nora walking unaccompanied ahead of me. I redirect my trajectory, wondering how she arrived here.
“Nora!” I call out as I close the distance between us.
She does not respond to my call. In fact, the closer I move toward her, the more I start to realize something is wrong. Her eyes are not focused, her expression is too smooth. She looks as if she is sleepwalking.
“Archion,” she calls out, looking around. “Archion, where are you?”
A sea of soldiers of lower rank appear, racing down the tunnel toward us.
“No!” I order, turning to face them. “Leave her be!”
Tashak appears behind the group of them, confusing matters even more. His eyes go to Nora and widen in surprise. He pushes through the guards, stopping in front of Nora but not touching her. He crouches down so that his eyes are level with hers.
“A vision,” he says.
Nora stops moving and mutters, looking at Tashak with eyes so bright they are almost glowing. She starts speaking words in a tongue she could not possibly know. She raises her hands toward Tashak’s throat, reaching out.
The threatening gestures breaks the hold of the hesitating lower ranks and two of them push past Tashak, intercepting her reach and grabbing her arms.
As if by fates’ hand, Archion emerges from a side tunnel in time to see this.
“No!” he roars.
Oh no. I sprint toward them, but I am too far.
He attacks the ring of warriors, his speed and strength coupled with his experience is too much for them. The guards throw themselves at him but they are throwing themselves into a blender of destruction. Broken bodies fly out of the whirlwind of his rage.
“Restrain him!” Tashak screams, his face white.
Five guards are on the ground, severely hurt, but no one is dead yet. If I don’t stop him, they never will. Pushing past Tashak I block the next two guards from entering the fray, bodily blocking them.
“Archion!” I yell, ducking his fist then blocking the other as it swings for my head.
I hit his bicep with a knife hand, a move he himself taught me. His arm goes numb and it’s enough to jerk him out of his rage. He glares at me for an instant before whirling around to Nora. He wraps her in his arms, closing his wings around her.
The guards climb to their feet, groaning in pain. They look at each other uncertainly, then me. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and sigh, knowing what must happen.
“Restrain him,” I order. “Archion, please, go along. No harm will come to her.”
He shoots daggers over his shoulder at me, and the fire in raging in his eyes is now only too familiar to me. Knowing what is happening inside of him, I see his struggle to control himself until at last he folds his wings and turns, offering his wrists for the shackles.
Tashak glares at Archion, me, then the guards. His mouth moves as if he’s going to say more, but the situation is under control. He snaps his mouth shut, nods sharply, and crosses his arms over his chest.
Nora stands still, silent, but her eyes are still unfocused, staring at things I assume none of us can see. She can’t have known those words. It is not possible. Something more is happening here.
I need to talk to Nora.
Now.
16
Ashlee
I jerk awake, sitting up, my heart in my throat and a cold sweat over my body. Something’s wrong. Eyes wide, brain foggy, I look around trying to find what startled me awake. A sound? A movement?
It’s like I’m moving through molasses and can’t think.
Nora.
She’s walking to the door. Weird.
“Nora?” I ask. She doesn’t turn around or respond to my voice. “Nora!”
I raise my voice but she ignores me, pulling the door open and walking out. What the hell? Climbing unsteadily to my feet it takes me a moment to get my balance. She’s out the door before I can move. No one stops her. Where are the guards?
Rubbing my eyes to clear the sleep, I move to the now-closed door and throw it open, walking out. A massive arm appears and I run right into it, painfully smashing my breasts.
“Ow,” I cry out, more in surprise than in pain.
The two Zmaj guards stare, impassive, waiting to see what I do.
“She’s out there. I need to—”
They cut me off. The one with his arm across my chest places a hand on me and gently but firmly pushes me back into the room and shuts the door once more.
I stare at the closed door, completely at a loss. I have no idea what just happened. All I know is that it is really strange. Nora was asleep across from me, taking a nap after being worn out by all the stress. Now she walked right out the door and the guards didn’t stop her. She just walked right through.
Staring at the door, I pace the small room back and forth making useless motions with my arms. Three trips across, then on the fourth I can’t take it anymore and go to the door again, throwing it open.
The two guards silently glare, turning enough that their bulk blocks my exit.
“Nora is out there!” I yell at them, raising my fists in frustration. Nothing. They don’t react in any discernible way. Not a fidget, not a blink, nothing. “Damn it, she’s out there! I have to go to her!”
Nothing.
“Get Archion then! Tell him, or Khal—”
The distinct ringing of a gong echoing through the halls cuts me off. Now they react, if not the way I want. One of them shoves me back into the room and slams the door so hard it reverberates. There’s a clicking sound and something sliding across. Stumbling backward I barely keep myself from falling onto the piles of pillows. Then I race back to the door but now it won’t open.
The gong continues to sound and there’s the furious sounds of activity and people rushing around outside the door. Then someone is yelling, apparently someone is berating the guards higher up than them.
“How could she escape? One small female!” the new voice yells.
I listen, but the voice turns more muffled, leaving me pacing around inside the small space, wishing I could be out there. What’s going on? Why did they let Nora go but not me? I have no idea.
Heck, if we were under attack, I wouldn’t know unless and until our attackers were literally at the door. How long are they going to keep me a prisoner in here? I’m starting to go more than a little stir-crazy. Running my fingers through my hair, I exhale heavily then drop my arms to my sides. This is not what I signed up for. This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. I wasn’t supposed to end up imprisoned.
Seconds crawl past and with each one’s passing nothing happens. The gong has gone silent, with no sound outside the door. The anger and frustration fades away like a fire sputtering out only to be replaced by cold fear. They know Nora is free. They have her. Is she okay? Where is Archion?
I’m alone.
A pressure falls onto me as if I’m suddenly blasting into space at two g’s. I’ve failed. Nora is lost, Archion is lost. I’m the only one left and I’m never going home.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head and then my entire body trying to push that idea out. It’s not helping and I can’t give in to despair. Getting a solid grip on my proverbial self I stop pacing and take a seat on the cushions facing the door. If I’m going to have to wait, then I’ll wait.
It isn’t much longer before I hear footsteps outside the door and it cracks open at last. I’m sure it’s going to be Nora being towed back in by a couple of guards. It’s the only scenario that makes sense. When the door opens up it takes me a minute to register that I know the large body blocking the light of the hall and it’s not one of the guards.
It’s Khal.
“Where is Nora?” I ask, not waiting to demand answers.
He closes the door behind himself, his eyes watchful.
“She is in good hands,” he replies obliquely.
Bullshit.
“She needs to be brought back here immediately,” I demand, shoving my finger down toward the ground. “I don’t trust any of you with her alone.”
“That is completely out of my hands,” he replies.
“I don’t believe you,” I retort. “You’ve been in charge of us the whole time we’ve been here. Go get her back!”
He walks over, stopping right in front of me.
“I cannot!” he growls. “I am not in control!”
It’s my turn to snarl with frustration while stepping back from his invasion of my personal space.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
His mouth moves as he starts to answer but he pauses, closes his eyes for only an instant, then when he speaks his voice is calmer.
“I wanted to ask you if you know how Nora did what she did.”
I shake my head.
“You and me both buddy,” I mutter. “I have no idea what she did. One second she was sleeping, next she was walking straight toward the door.” I throw my hands up in the air. “And the guards let her pass right through without any argument!”
“They let her pass?” he asks, an odd tone to his voice.
I nod.
“And when I tried to follow, they stopped me.” I shake my head, frowning.
It’s even weirder to recall it.
“I want Nora back,” I demand once more, turning toward him.
When I turn his eyes are focused on me. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but it seems he’s looking at me differently.
“Do you know what she did to escape the guards?” he asks.
That’s not the only thing his eyes are saying. They’re a little too warm, a fire burning in them that is calling to me despite all the chaos and confusion. I frown, trying to ignore my body’s response to his fire.
“She didn’t do anything so dramatic as escaping,” I mutter. “She just walked out and they let her.”
Is it getting hot in here?
“That cannot be correct,” he says, frowning and shaking his head.
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” I respond, throwing my hands up in the air. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
His frown deepens then he nods slowly.
“I see,” he says, finally seeming to understand.
“At least somebody does,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
I drop down onto one of the floor cushions, setting my head in my hands.
“Have dinner with me.”
I raise my head, unsure that I heard him incorrectly.
“What?”
“Have dinner with me,” he repeats, his eyes intense.
I shake my head.
“No.”
That’s all I say. It’s all he deserves after acting like he did.
“Have dinner with me. Please.”
I shake my head again.
“No. Why should I have dinner with you now after...” I trail off, embarrassed.
“I am sorry,” he says gently. “Please. Share a meal with me.”
His eyes are imploring, gentle, warm. I know this is about more than dinner. I stop myself from refusing again. Be practical not emotional. How else am I getting information here? Nobody else interacts with us.
Even the guards are just that, refusing to have a conversation with anybody. If I want to learn anything, this is the path forward. I need information, both on Nora and Archion, as well as on the Order itself.
At this point, saying that I’m distrustful of the Order is a massive understatement. I have no idea what their intention is, but I do know I don’t like being held prisoner here. I’m at the point now that if I do make it back to Rosalind, I feel like I’m going to have to say we shouldn’t ally ourselves with the Order. That we might even be enemies.
“Fine,” I relent.
His face brightens.
“Thank you,” he responds gravely. “I will go gather a meal.”
He leaves quietly. I sigh, resting my head on the table. This is a cluster fuck. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this in any appreciable way, but I can’t lose hope that we can.
By the time Khal comes back with the food, I’ve composed myself. He sets the food out on the table and settles onto the cushions across from me, then he serves me and then himself, the epitome of politeness.
I appreciate it, but what I want more is information. I wait until we’re well into the meal before I ask anything important, talking about the food until the right time.
“Any news on what they’re planning to do with Archion?” I ask.
His eyes darken and he shakes his head.
“All I know is that protocol is being followed,” he responds cryptically.
I shake my head.
“What about Nora? What are they doing with her? Why haven’t they returned her yet?”
“I am certain the protocols are being adhered to and she will not be harmed,” he says, again avoiding the issue.
I stare as frustration slowly boils.
“How many people are here with the Order?” I ask, changing tactics something more general.
“I can’t reveal any of that information,” he says, meeting my eyes.
“Let me guess…it’s part of the protocols.”
“Yes,” he smiles.
I huff, shaking my head and setting down my food.
“What are these protocols?”
His smile widens, but he doesn’t respond.
Great.
Shaking my head, I reach out to ladle some more stew into my bowl, just as Khal attempts to intercept and do it for me. Our fingertips brush, the small touch sending a tingle of heat through me. I jerk back, my eyes going to his. The knowledge of the same heat is in his.
“Allow me,” he says in a husky voice, ladling more food into my bowl.
I break eye contact. I can’t meet the fire in his eyes any longer without doing something stupid.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice tight.
I sip some of the slightly too-hot stew. That one light touch changes the dinner. Our conversation is stilted now, the anger and frustration shifting into something completely different. I catch his eyes lingering on my lips and then drifting down to the skin exposed by my slightly unbuttoned shirt.
His voice is husky as he steers the conversation to something less incendiary. While we talk about what kind of vegetables they have, all I’m thinking about is what he might look like naked.