Читать книгу Eden's Fire - Samantha Holt - Страница 4

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“You are watching that girl again.”

Ty scowled at his brother, the god of lightning. Unlike his fiery form, Lysandros was fair and his god form flowed with blue energy. Tiny zaps of electricity jolted over his iridescent body with each movement.

He glanced back at the pool which allowed them to see the mortal realm, a flowing picture set to a backdrop of stars. Eden’s image shimmered as she lay curled up in her dark cottage and quietly sniffled and shivered.

“Yes, Lysandros, I am watching her again.”

“Why?” Lysandros peered into the pool. “She is pretty but I see no reason to watch her.”

“Pretty? No, she is beautiful.”

He could not help recalling the way her blue eyes watched with wonder as he cooked her meal. He had studied her soft profile. Delicate features had peeked out from under her mass of glossy dark hair, and he conceded perhaps there were more stunning women in the world. However, something about her simple beauty tugged at his senses.

Lysandros sniffed. “I still do not understand your fascination.”

“She is crying.”

“Ty, you have been to her, you did your duty. There is nothing more to be done. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules. I do not like them. We help those who do not need help, in the name of equality.”

His brother slapped a hand on Ty’s form and a spark leaped from one palm. He flinched at the touch. Lysandros tended to forget his brothers could feel the electric touch of his god form even if humans could not.

“Before long we may not have to worry about the rules at all.”

“It is unfair to make them pay for our mistakes.” Something inside twisted at the thought of leaving Eden.

“It was not our mistakes that made them greedy and unthinking. It is part of their human nature and they have fostered it.”

Ty clenched a fist and watched as fire swirled around his fingers. Since the visit with Eden, he almost missed his solid human form. “There is no greed in this woman. Why should she suffer because of others? We should have intervened sooner. We should have stopped the humans before they reached this point.”

Lysandros sighed. “I do not like it any more than you, brother, but there is little we can do now. We will move on and start afresh. Maybe this time we will get it right.”

“And if we do not?”

“Then possibly we should resign ourselves to the fact human nature cannot be governed, no matter what we do.”

Glancing back at Eden, he followed the trickle of a tear. Perhaps he could do nothing for her in the long term but he could do something now.

* * * *

Eden gasped as a set of warm, powerful arms wrapped around her. Instantly her body heated.

Tyondric.

He had returned.

“You’re back,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

He didn’t respond, simply hugged her closer. Unable to resist, she nestled into him. It was wrong. He shouldn’t even be with her. But she struggled to recall the last time someone had held her, looked after her.

“Why do you cry?”

She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.

“Is it because you are cold?”

How could she explain to a god something he would never understand?

A slight smile twitched her lips. If only it were that simple. “Yes…and no. I don’t like being cold but it’s more than that.”

“Will you explain it to me?”

Turning to face him, she laid her palms upon his chest. His skin pulsed and surged underneath her fingertips. The heat running beneath his flesh gathered wherever she touched, and she sighed at the sight of his muscled torso.

Of course, he was a god. To him, there was nothing odd about strolling around half-naked or displaying an incredible physique to a woman. A woman on her own, at that.

Never mind how his body singed her soul even as it comforted.

She peeked through her lashes and he jolted, brow creasing. It hurt to look at him. His sculpted jaw and penetrating amber gaze were painfully beautiful. A strange surge of energy rushed through her, leaving her breathless. She gathered her breath as the sensation left. Perhaps that happened whenever a human touched a god.

“Why have you come? You’ve already visited me once. You shouldn’t have returned.”

His face relaxed as he caressed her back. “You were crying.”

Did he realize how taunting his touch was? “People cry.”

“I did not like it.”

“What?”

“I did not like to see it.” He swept a strand of hair from her face. “Tell me why you cry, Eden?”

She bit her lip, powerless to resist staring into those endless eyes as he smoothed her cheek with the pads of his fingers. Blowing out a breath, she glanced at her hands. No matter what she commanded them to do, they continued to stroke the planes of his torso.

“I am lonely.” She glanced at him as his brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he didn’t understand. He was a god, a blessed being. “I have no family,” she tried again. “They are dead, taken by the great sickness—the Erium.”

“It took a lot of people.” Though his tone held no sympathy, a glimmer of sadness shone in those golden eyes.

“It took every member of my family. Even my husband. But it left me.” The tears welled again, clouding her vision and she blinked them away.

“You loved your man?”

Eden frowned as she considered this. “No, but we were only married for six months. He was a good man. I could have loved him, I think.”

His gaze trailed over her face, searching for something. “But you loved your family?”

“Yes, very much.” She stilled both hands, incapable of removing them just yet. She rested one over his heart. Did he even have a heart? Ananthurian legends stated gods’ bodies didn’t function as humans’ did. The sensation of a faint pulse beat under her fingers. Drawing her gaze from his sleek chest, she stared at him. “You have a father and many brothers. Don’t you love them?”

“I do not know.”

“How would you feel if you lost them? If they died as my family did?”

His dark brows creased as he toyed absently with a lock of her hair. “But they will not. Gods are immortal.”

“I suppose… I suppose if you do not fear losing them…”

“Then I cannot understand love,” he finished.

She shrugged against his hold. “Maybe.”

They lay quietly and Tyondric stroked her clothes with his hands, warmed every inch of her. His breath rasped across her hair. Maybe gods weren’t so different from humans after all. With heavy eyelids, she found herself desperate to stay awake. He would not come back again. According to church teachings, he had broken the rules by returning. What would possibly entice him to do the same again? Eden had little to offer anyone, let alone the Fire God.

Clearly curiosity drove him. Was that what led him to her side? Her mouth twitched as she considered while humans questioned and debated their knowledge of the gods, perhaps the gods were just as ignorant of them. Though they held supreme power over humans, it seemed they understood little of human nature.

“Why do you smile?” The words washed over her, molten like lava flowing from a volcano.

She avoided his gaze. Could she get into trouble for mocking a god? “I just found it amusing you know so little about humans.”

“I know a lot about humans. I have watched them since they were born.”

“And yet you don’t understand love.”

“I have seen it,” he said wistfully. “I have seen great love. It overthrows countries and survives against all odds. It drives men mad. I do not understand love, but I should like to.”

Eden risked a glance up at him only to become mesmerized by the softening in those glowing eyes. Her throat tightened as his fingers grazed her cheek and lips. She parted them instinctively. What should she do if he tried to kiss her? She doubted anyone ever denied a god before. Would she?

However, a finger lingered on her mouth and traced the outline of it. Part of her questioned why she allowed him to behave with such familiarity. With any other man she would have fought against such attentions.

Heat flushed through her, caused more by his beauty than warmth. She stiffened. Did gods seduce mortal women? With none of their own, did he expect her to satisfy him? And did she want to?

“What is wrong, Eden?” His enthralling voice reached deep, soothed the ache inside.

She gulped. “Nothing.” For someone who didn’t understand human emotions, he seemed to comprehend hers easily.

“I mean you no harm. I just wish to keep you warm.”

Eden relaxed into him. Of course he did. Why would a god choose her to lie with? In fact, why would a god waste time tending to a human’s tears? “Why come to me again? I can’t believe my crying really affected you. You’ve already said you do not understand emotions and there are surely people who need your aid more than I.”

“Many people need my aid. Too many people. And what can I give them? A moment of warmth, one meal, a flash of light. Here I can keep you warm and banish your sorrow. I told you I did not like your tears. I do not feel as humans do, it is true, but I still experience elements of sadness, frustration, anger. Your tears made me experience all of those. More so than ever before.”

Whatever the true reason, she resisted no longer, burrowed closer and rested her head in the crook of his arm. His hold tightened and any remaining resistance evaporated. For now, she would accept the comfort offered. One more night would do no harm, surely?

* * * *

After tugging on her mantle, Eden hauled out the bow from under the mattress and swung the quiver over one shoulder. With a glance around the empty cottage, she shoved open the door and stepped into the forest, shuddering as wind instantly whipped at her. Though her home lay deep in Perivia Forest, the godforsaken weather still managed to penetrate.

The musky odor of dank, rotted leaves filled the air but she barely acknowledged the all-too-familiar stench. The wet weather made the door swell and it refused to shut easily. With a yank, she fought with the door until it closed. She blew a strand of hair from her face in frustration. Yet another thing that needed fixing.

Hood drawn, she pulled her shoulders straight and headed west to check the traps.

Four days.

Her boots squelched through the mud. Four days, and he still hadn’t returned. Cursing aloud, she shook her head. Of course he hadn’t returned. He shouldn’t have even visited a second time. He’d hardly come back a third.

Her heart sank. The trees closed in and forced a chill into the air as she pushed deeper. She almost regretted him answering her plea. If he hadn’t she wouldn’t miss the god now. Maybe her miserable existence wouldn’t seem quite so lonely.

As she idly swept at protruding twigs as she brushed past, they cracked and the sound echoed through the empty forest. By the gods, she was pathetic. Mooning after a god, of all people. She should be grateful he helped her, not be dreaming of pressing against his solid body once more, or wondering what it would be like to share a kiss with him.

She came across the first of her traps. Empty. Not that she’d expected any different but it would have been nice to have something to cheer her. If she didn’t find anything in the other two a trip to the village to trade with the healer would be in order. Eden shuddered. She hated going to the village.

After the other traps came up empty, she resigned herself to the necessary journey ahead. With coin almost gone and no more than a week’s worth of winter vegetables—a few carrots and leeks—remaining, she risked starvation if she didn’t go. Once back at the cottage, she gave the door a swift kick to knock it open.

She snatched a basket, ducked outside and filled it with a few choice herbs. A glance at the sky told her dusk would be upon her by the time she reached Perivia. That would suit the healer nicely. The villagers still didn’t trust her and the healer didn’t want anyone to know who he traded with.

She brushed the dirt from her hands, hooked the basket over one arm and strolled to the path leading to the village. Tamping down the trepidation in her chest, she burrowed further into her cloak.

Stupid, suspicious villagers. Little did they realize, her herbs had saved their lives on many occasions. None trusted her since the Erium took her family but left her alive. A witch, they whispered. A sorceress, others said. A girl with the devil in her soul.

“No,” Eden muttered. “Just damned unlucky.” Often she wished to have followed her family to the afterlife.

A prickle of awareness dashed up her spine and she darted a look about. Ahead, three men approached, their simple brown tunics marking them as peasants. She blew out a breath. Thank the gods they weren’t the lord’s soldiers.

She moved to the other side of the path and the undergrowth jabbed through her wool gown as she pressed past. Her skin prickled as she sensed their gazes on her. Head low, she quickened her pace, the apprehension leaching into her pulse. Strangers meant danger and she did not like the look of these.

“Hey, girl,” one called after her.

With a gulp, Eden sped up, a shudder wracking her. Whatever they wanted, she didn’t want to know. And if they recognized her as the witch girl then trouble promised to follow.

“Girl!”

The sucking of mud on boots sounded and her heart skipped. A look behind told her the three men were pursuing cautiously. She continued, praying for them to leave her alone. Their attention could mean no good. In these desperate times crime was rife and she had no intention of becoming a victim.

They’d obviously realized she didn’t intend to stop and they stalked after her. She hitched up her skirts, an unbidden cry tumbling from her lips as she fell into a clumsy run. Shouted insults told Eden her instincts were right and the men were looking to cause trouble. She didn’t want to consider what sort of trouble.

The rustle of their clothes reached her as they gained on her and she groped for an arrow, the prickle of its feathers brushing her fingers. Clearly, running wasn’t going to work. She spun around, drew out the arrow and nocked it with a flourish as the men came to a halt.

“I don’t know what you want but I suggest you leave me alone,” she told them. By some miracle, her voice remained steady. A skilled marksmen she might be when it came to hunting game, but she’d never killed another human. Would she even have the courage?

The largest of them laughed, revealing crooked teeth in his dirt encrusted face. His hair may have been blond but the grime made it difficult to tell. The other two followed suit as they chuckled and displayed equally disgusting grins.

“Looks like someone wants to play, Rob.” The shortest one snorted.

The large man—Rob, she assumed—chuckled. “You sure you know how to shoot, girly?”

She struggled to hold back a hysterical giggle as the small man puffed out his chest and edged forward. Grip tight, she raised the arrow’s tip. “I’ll do it,” she warned.

The man took another step forward, jolting her into action. She snapped back the string and aimed downward. The arrow speared his soft leather shoe with a thwack. He yowled, fell to the ground and clutched his foot.

“Little bitch bloody shot me!”

Rob’s and the third man’s gazes narrowed and Eden’s heart tightened as she fumbled for another arrow. They closed in quickly and Rob snatched an arm, squeezing it until the arrow fell from her hand as she squealed. He pinched her wrist, sending a sharp bolt of pain through her arm, and she sagged. There was no hope now.

“You’ve only made it harder for yourself, girl,” Rob said in a rough, growling tone. “You’ll not fight us off now.”

As he pulled her tight against him, the reek of stale sweat clouded her senses. Throat closing, she shut her eyes and cursed the burn of tears.

Then uttered a prayer. “Please, make it quick,” she begged.