Читать книгу The Blood She Betrayed - Cheryse Durrant - Страница 7

Tension threaded through her muscles as she shadowed the lean boy-man away from the mansion, sidestepping a gold-speckled toad in her path.

`It's summer.' His amber voice soothed her shot nerves. `Cane toads are all over the place.'

`Are they edible?'

`Heck, no. They're poisonous.'

`That is disappointing.' Hunger gnawed at her insides.

`Do you like frog's legs?'

Just the legs? She was hungry. She would eat the whole thing at the moment! `Are the legs your specialty?'

`Mine? I can't cook to save myself.'

His distinctive scent, mingled with the tang of unfamiliar plants, stirred her hunger. It was more than she expected from this slight boy-man with unkempt chestnut hair. She bit her lip. He lacked a warrior's muscular build or a magician's runic hand, but the quality fabric and cut of his garments implied wealth. If he were the son of a nobleman, he could prove useful. If only...

She faltered as another spasm of hunger hit.

His heart tempted her with its thick, rich scent and strong, thudding beats. Not since Jada had she felt a response so raw and primeval. This Earthern was nothing like her betrothed but in a handful of minutes he had rekindled the darker cravings she had struggled to repress.

`Are you okay? You look ill.' His warm breath skated across her neck.

Trust no one. Find the Elnara. `I will regain my strength once we have eaten at your abode.'

`Sure, it's this way.'

As she passed through the break in a tall, stone wall, she gasped at the thousands of lanterns stretching out across the fields and valleys below. So this was Earth. She had never seen so many lights! How could one city spare the expense? How did they acquire the fuel? `What are all those lanterns? Is tonight a festival?' The warm air suggested summer.

`It's nothing special, only the city lights. Did you just move here? Wait `til they put all the Christmas ones up — it'll be spectacular in a few weeks.'

City lights? The Twilight Keeper had gifted her mind with a handful of Earthern languages, including English, before she left for this world via the mists. But he had warned some words and phrases might have become out-dated during the past three hundred years since the last Gorian visited Earth. `These are not for a festival but merely your city's buildings lit up?'

`Of course.'

`But there are tens of thousands of them!'

`This is Brisbane — we've two million people.'

`So many!'

`London and New York each have eight. Don't tell me you're from one of those tiny east European villages?'

She closed her gaping mouth. Her city, the largest in all of Gorias, housed twelve thousand. `How do you protect so many? Is your city gated?'

`Of course not! Oh, you're back in character again. Are you an actress or something, or do you study at uni?'

Uni? One, single, a prefix? No, perhaps an Earthern abbreviation? Max's misconception that she was `in character', however, could help conceal her other-world origins. `How much further?' she asked.

`Five minutes down the street. Come on!'

She marvelled at the expanse of night sky above a city which sprawled unconfined by narrow streets and protective walls. Had predators infiltrated this place? Were they safe on this wide tree-lined street?

`My name's Max, by the way.'

`I am pleased to meet you, Max. I am…' She dared not whisper her birth name aloud. There was power in names and if the Earthern Taloners discovered she had arrived through the mists, they would hunt her down. No, she must remain incognito. Besides, she had been abandoned by her people. She was no longer the Princess Royal. She was a shahkara, a peasant in a foreign land. That was it! She smiled. `My name is Shahkara.'

`Epic, sort of like the singer. Did you say you knew Darryn from uni or did you gatecrash the party?'

`I did not say.' The paved footpath, ivory in the dwindling twilight, ran alongside a wide black-surfaced road. Oddly shaped, brightly-hued shelters inhabited the road, each supported by four wheels. Were they Earthern carriages or did they belong to food vendors? They lacked draft beasts, but the working animals were most likely stabled for the night. `What do you mean uni?'

`You know — university.'

Ah, a school of higher learning. `Yes,' she lied. May Danu forgive her. `I met Darryn at the university. I study there. At the uni.' She wondered how many words she would misunderstand simply because the people of this kingdom shortened them.

`Sweet. A lot of my brother Ethan's friends went there.'

`And you?'

`No, I'm still in my final year but the whole uni deal just blows my brains.'

Blows his brains? The only link she could find within her new vocabulary was an expression linked to explosives. Surely he did not mean to explode his brains, although he had already fallen from a balcony. `I assume you do not mean this literally.'

He chuckled. `Still keeping in character? I like it, but I'm dying to know where you're really from.'

Dying? She suspected that was not literal, either. `It is a secret.'

`A secret, huh?' He stopped in front of a large building and leant against its stone-like wall. A teasing fire burnt in his eyes before awkwardness doused it. He glanced towards the building's entrance. `Here we are.'

Brilliantly illuminated by lamps affixed to the external walls, the house was larger than a peasant's, but smaller than a nobleman's. Both moat and gate were noticeably absent. How did they prevent Taloner attacks? The neighbouring buildings showed no battle scars. Perhaps predators did not roam this gateless city. `Does your father own the building?'

`No, it's Ethan's. Well, it was his before he died.' He opened the door and made a flamboyant gesture, as if begging her to enter first.

She hesitated. Although her senses were sharper than a human's, and her reflexes faster, Max did not know she was a half-blood so why would he want her to go ahead of him? In her world, the man would enter first, to stalk out demons or intruders, but he seemed to take pride in letting her go first.

Her hand lingered on her hilt as she stepped over the threshold. Her Taloner vision enabled her to see the symmetrical designs, eclectic artwork and odd but luxurious furniture inside the darkened house.

A hollow click behind Max was followed by a blinding light which had her scrambling for her sword. She blinked rapidly, weapon raised, and scouted for intruders.

None. Only Max, drenched in light as strong as day. Yet it was night. She frowned. The light shone from the rounded candelabras attached to the ceiling, though they had been unlit moments earlier.

`What is this?' Eartherns had supposedly turned their backs on the magical arts centuries ago. Had magic regained popularity since the Keeper last communicated with Earth? If so, her challenge would be greater.

`It's just the lights. See?' He pointed to the switch on the wall and flipped it off. Darkness. Another click. Light. `You're kidding me, right? You've seen electric lights before?'

`Of course.' She sheathed her sword. `I am in character.'

What a wondrous world this was, full of ideas and inventions that her kingdom had not yet discovered. Like magical lights. She wished she could take this magic back to her kingdom and use it to aid her people.

But she had to find the death lantern and destroy the Taloners. She fingered the rough edging of her corded pendant. This world must have changed greatly in three hundred years. She needed to converse with the boy-man and tap into his knowledge, but to do that she had to fight against the constant, mesmerising beat of his heart.

Cultivate the friendship, but distance your senses.

Beg Danu! His Earthern scent saturated the air, teasing and tempting her. Hunger tore at her insides and she trembled. She sucked in a breath and tried to banish the sweet smell of his musk.

`You said you have sustenance?' She should not have followed him here. She craved his heart like no other; it tempted her darkest desires.

`The kitchen's this way.' He cocked his head to the left and guided her through to a large room that was accentuated by black marble bench-tops and twin silver cupboards.

This could not be his kitchen! She saw neither stove nor fire — nor even food.

`What would you like?' He opened the first silver cupboard and she felt cold air sift out from its interior. `I could make a chicken sandwich.'

`That would be excellent.' Flesh sated the hunger better than fruit or cheese.

He scraped butter on some bread taken from a transparent bag. `Where are you from?'

`You do not need to know.' His scent was maddening. Adrenaline flashed through her but she steeled herself.

`Oh, come on. Tell me.'

The huskiness in his voice forced her gaze upwards and her mouth turned dry at the tawny darkness of his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Though he was an arm's length away he felt uncomfortably close. She had sensed his attraction the moment she rescued him and encouraged it, so that he might give her food and rest. What surprised her was her awareness of him. She was practised in fending off noblemen's advances so why did he unsettle her? Why did she feel this way?

His heart. The vibrant thud spoke to her, seduced her. She shuddered and grappled to distance herself. `Do your servants and bodyguards live with you?'

He looked up. `You think I want to talk about bodyguards when we can talk about you?'

`I am uninteresting.' Indecision tore at her. She should leave and go somewhere else, but how difficult would it be to find another Earthern so generous with their food and dwelling?

`That's too funny!' He glanced at her. `Unlike my father, I don't have servants — except for a cleaning lady and, as you noticed, I gave my guards the night off. We are alone.'

`Why do you need protecting?'

`Why do you avoid talking about yourself?' He carved the chicken and layered it on to the bread.

`It is safer that way.'

`Safer? I fell two storeys and didn't break a bone. You're the safest thing that's been flung at me in a long time! How did you rescue me, by the way? It felt like magic.'

His gaze burnt her and she shuddered at the skittish beat of her heart. What was this? She had reached her seventeenth year. She was no longer some girl-child who gushed sentimental at a poetic ode. It had to be the hunger!

No. Her desire for food weakened her and enflamed her Taloner cravings, but that was not what fogged her mind. The rich, alluring scent of his heart was a constant temptation. Had rescuing him been foolhardy? `We must eat.'

`There you go: one McCalden chicken sandwich special.'

`Thank you.' The food-laden plate teased her appetite further. `I am grateful for your hospitality. I promise I will not burden you long.'

`It's no burden. You're gorgeous; I mean you are welcome.' A muscle flinched at his jaw. `Would you like to watch TV or a movie?'

TV? Movie? She would settle for a dictionary. `Please, you choose.'

`Let's check the telly. Grab the remote off the coffee table.'

Remote? The round, glass-topped stand in front of her was littered with objects — a stained mug, scrunched-up paper, ugly pottery and a collection of small, elongated boxes.

`It's okay, I'll get it.' He grabbed one of the smaller boxes from the table and prodded at its raised, square buttons.

The torrid rumble of a thunderstorm, followed by voices and music, caught her off-guard. Her hand whipped to her hilt as people, standing in a forest, appeared as a moving painting on the broad wall before them. They were talking, as if enacting a drama, but she could not determine how they — or the music — were conjured. Harps and flutes were absent. If this were a spell, Earthern magic surpassed anything in her world.

The boy-man did not share her enthusiasm.

`Repeats.' He clicked again at the box to reveal less formally dressed humans, conversing on a beach. `And reality shows!'

He clicked multiple times, but became less pleased with each outcome. `Don't wait for me. Eat.'

She perched on the nearest padded chair and bit into her sandwich, the interweaving flavours and pale, flimsy flesh curbing her hunger.

Max tossed his control box back on to the table. `Never anything on a Sunday. I've got some Blu-rays. What do you like?'

`I am interested in geography, artefacts and enchanted spells.'

`Are you a fantasy buff, too? I've just bought Wizard Storm. Did you see it at the cinema?'

`Does it contain magic?'

`Does it ever!'

He disappeared into the next room and returned clasping a flat, multi-coloured box with Earthern writing on its back and spine. There was a large silver disc inside, which he inserted into a box near the wall. `How was the sandwich?'

`Delicious.'

Prodding at another box, he smiled as images, music and Earthern words shimmered across the wall. `It has the best plot line and Macius is epic.'

He slouched into the other padded chair and bit into his sandwich.

On the wall, the images faded to reveal scores of words flickering across a backdrop of erupting volcanoes, accompanied by the most splendid music. The music ebbed away and an army of warriors rode into a village.

`How is this possible?'

`I know. They had a lousy budget but the director's amazing.'

`But it is… is it magic?'

`Not yet. The wizard's not until the next scene.'

Were they speaking the same language? It had to be magic. `How long have you had picture walls?'

`The big screen? Ethan put it in when he built the house.'

`He was a magician? Your brother?'

`Huh?' A frown creased his brow.

`Was he a mage? Or was he a warrior and that is how he died — in battle?'

`You're the weirdest girl I've ever met. I mean, you're beautiful and you're hot, but you are weird.'

`Is it impolite in this culture to talk of the dead?'

`It's not what you ask, it's the way you speak.'

`I merely asked you about your family. I never had a brother or sister. Were you two close?'

His brow furrowed. `Not as a child — he was older, though he always looked out for me after Mum died. We only got close after he came back from overseas.'

`Your mother has also passed?'

`I don't remember lots about her, except her face and her perfume, but she…' His tawny eyes darkened as tension wired the air. `Why all the questions?'

Discomfort snaked through her. `I am merely talking.'

`Who do you work for?'

She was a royal princess. She had never worked for anyone.

`Are you a reporter?'

Another word she did not quite understand.

`Oh God, I'm an idiot!' Max jumped from the chair, dumped his plate on the table and raked a hand through his hair. `You're a journalist, aren't you?'

`Ah, no.' Journ-a-list. Bard. Gossip monger. Why would he think she wished to profiteer from his secrets? `I apologise if my character appears unpalatable. My goal was not to part you from your reputation. Rather, I hoped to gain your trust.'

He closed in on her. `You're kidding! I may be half-drunk but I'm past believing you dressed up in Dungeons and Dragons gear for a night on the town, and just ended up at Darryn's by mistake. You knew who I was, didn't you? I admit, the foreign Goth chick had me going, but I'm not giving you a story, so you may as well leave. Now!'

`But I do not—' Something strange caught her eye as Max also grabbed her wrist.

`Don't make this harder or I'll phone the police!' he said.

A shadow lunged at them.

Fast. Dark. Violent.

Shahkara leapt from her chair and shoved Max out of harm's way. Her white, lethal talons snapped out from behind her knuckles and she drove her fist through the air, towards her enemy's throat.

Too late!

Enemy talons!

The predator pierced her forearm quickly, like a viper. She hissed at the burning sting of torn muscle and skin and tried to jerk away. He held her fast as his other taloned hand ripped away her sheathed sword and belt, scoring her flesh, then drove his talons towards her, zeroing in for the kill.