Читать книгу Night Quest - Susan Krinard - Страница 11

Chapter 3

His meaning was terrifyingly clear, and suddenly Artemis was furious—at her own helplessness; at his inexplicable generosity, in spite of his valid reasons for despising her kind; at a world that had created such a bizarre set of impossible circumstances. Her mind and emotions and physical senses reacted all at once, making her excruciatingly aware of the body she had so admired.

Even thinking of taking his blood aroused not just her hunger for nourishment but for other things, as well. Her imagination began to spin scenarios that could never be. Her empathic talent burned more brightly—extending fingers of amethyst light, her light, toward Garret—and he began to breathe more heavily.

Vivid images sprang into her mind: lying beside Garret, naked in his arms as she sank her teeth into his neck; moaning in pleasure as the blood flowed over her tongue and he guided her down on top of him; urgency building as her hunger exploded into an unbearable need to feel him inside her, giving as she took, taking as she gave...

She came back to herself, her body hot and throbbing, to find him looking at her with that steady gaze, his eyes so clear that she could see every shadow passing beneath the surface. No pain now, no anger, no sorrow. Only need. And desire.

Desire for a Freeblood. For her. She looked from Garret’s hungry eyes down to his broad chest and lean waist, and then below, where the evidence of his response was so readily apparent.

And she was responsible. She had to put an end to it.

“How can you do this?” she asked. “How can you bear to let an Opir take your blood? Is it because of this Roxana?”

“I’ve done it before,” he said, his hunger still burning in her mind. “I have no reason to fear it.”

She wondered again where he’d come from. He hadn’t always been alone, not with such a casual attitude about donation. But if he had ever lived among Opiri...

“If I take your blood,” she said, “what do you expect in return?”

“Your help in finding my son.”

His blunt response took her aback. She felt the completely unexpected and irrational disappointment of realizing that he was being generous only because he wanted something from her. Something he had probably wanted from the very beginning.

If she gave in now, she would be throwing away the very principles she had worked so hard to establish since her exile.

“I cannot accept,” she said. “I must go.”

Garret’s expression changed again, as if he were waking from a deep sleep and had forgotten where he was. His aura folded in on itself and vanished. He rolled down his sleeve, returned to his pack and began to shift things inside it, clearly pretending to keep himself busy so that he wouldn’t have to deal with her. She watched him, her muscles frozen, knowing she would never see him again.

“I will lay a false trail,” she said, pulling on her daycoat with clumsy hands. “If the humans do find our tracks, they will follow mine. I’m sure they would far rather kill me than you, traitor though they may name you.” She stumbled a little as she took up her bow. “As your own people say, good luck.”

An instant later she was running...throwing all her energy into every step, hoping that the initial burst of speed would carry her beyond his reach before she lost her breath. She knew it was time to abandon the area completely, and not only because of Garret. She had to get away from the possibility of any human or Opir contact, and lose herself in a place so remote that not even the most desperate Freeblood exiles would claim it.

True to her word, she laid a false trail, though it took a good deal more of her energy than she could afford. When she reached her temporary shelter, a small cave in the side of a hill, she gathered up her few possessions and left as quickly as she could, dizzy but still able to maintain a regular pace.

Every step carried her farther and farther away from the human who had inexplicably saved her life, then turned it upside down. Her heart seemed to drag several feet behind her.

By the time she left the woods a few hours later and reached the narrow path that paralleled the old northbound Interstate 5, a cold, driving rain had begun to fall. Normally it would not have bothered her; Opiri had lower body temperatures than humans, but their efficient metabolisms and greater strength enabled them to bear adverse conditions for longer periods.

But her energy was draining away a little more with every hour that passed. Hunger gnawed at her constantly. The weather didn’t make her attempt to find game any easier, and she soon discovered that something had frightened away most of the local wildlife...a situation that might suggest an Opir pack in the area. She needed to avoid such packs at all costs.

As sunset approached, she sat down on a boulder under a stand of pines at the edge of a wide meadow and simply waited. The light began to fade. Nocturnal creatures would soon be venturing from their dens and hiding places, giving her another chance. Whatever came, she would have no choice but to take it.

Something large moved through the undergrowth on the other side of the meadow, an animal powerful enough to disregard any need for stealth.

A bear and her half-grown cubs emerged from the trees. The sow rose up on her hind legs, nostrils flaring, while the cubs tumbled about and cuffed each other in play.

Artemis caught her breath. She had seen plenty of bears before, but something in the scene touched her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She rose slowly, careful not to attract the bears’ attention, and prepared to set off again, feeling as if she had become detached from her body. Pebbles rolled on the ground behind her. She spun around, lost her balance, and then righted herself as she belatedly grabbed at the waterproof case of her bow.

Garret was standing a few feet from the boulder. He had thrown back the hood of his coat, and his wet auburn hair had darkened to a deep brown. His strong face seemed sculpted out of the rain itself, but he seemed no more disturbed by the weather than the bears were.

What disturbed Artemis was that he had approached almost as silently as an Opir. Once again she was surprised at his skill. Surprised—and furious that she had been caught off guard.

The only thing she had to be grateful for was that she perceived him only through her physical senses, not her mental ones. There was no aura to distract her.

Is that truly all you have to be thankful for? an inner voice demanded.

“What are you doing here?” she asked aloud. “Were you following me?”

“Did you finish your hunt?” he asked.

“Leave,” she said, taking an aggressive step toward him. “Leave this place, before I must force you to go.”

He looked her up and down with those keen eyes. “Why are you so afraid?” he asked softly as the rain continued to pelt down on his head and shoulders. “Is the prospect of helping me find a lost child so repugnant to you?”

A human child, she wanted to cry out. Why should I care?

But how could she lie to him, and to herself?

“You would ask me to hunt my own people,” she said.

“They’re barely ‘your people’ at all.”

“But they are. And I believe they have a chance at a better future than what they face in the Citadels or as exiles.”

He arched a brow. “You didn’t mention this before.”

“Why should you listen?”

“What does this ‘better future’ involve, Artemis? Teaching the rogues to follow your example and refuse to take human blood? Convincing them that humans aren’t animals, aren’t just another form of prey? How would they consider that an improvement on their lives now?”

She shook her head sharply. “There is so much you cannot possibly understand.”

“I understand that you follow an ethical code of conduct that stretches to include humans, and that you live alone because you won’t share your life with barbaric killers.”

“I will not debate this with you,” she said, knowing that she’d made a mistake in bringing her philosophy into the argument. “If our positions were reversed,” she said, “would you lead me to humans I might choose to kill?”

“When did I say that I planned to kill anyone?”

“You have made your feelings about Freebloods very clear,” she said, “and you will not hesitate to use any means to save your son.”

“You’re right,” he said, matching the challenge in her voice. “But I’m not seeking revenge. If I can get Timon safely back without resorting to violence—” He broke off and took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to a point somewhere behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder. The bear had obviously seen them and had reared up again. Her formidable teeth flashed in her brown muzzle.

“Is that what you were hunting?” Garret asked.

Artemis licked the moisture from her lips. “I had no plans to attack them,” she said, grasping eagerly at the change of subject.

“But you haven’t found anything else.”

“That is not your concern.”

Garret set his pack down against the boulder. “I think you need my help,” he said.

Growing sick with hunger and the scent of the blood pumping beneath his skin, Artemis stopped herself from falling against the boulder by a sheer act of will. “You cannot help me,” she said.

“Do you object to taking human blood, even if it’s freely given?”

“Freely given—at a price,” she whispered.

“You live in the wilds. I’m well trained, but you’re faster and have keener senses than I do. Even if you won’t come with me, you can point me in the right direction. That’s all I ask.”

His voice began to fade in and out, the sound replaced by a thrumming behind her ears. She tried to convince herself to hold to her convictions, her vow never to take human blood again.

But philosophy would always fail when survival was at stake.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

No longer able to resist, she stumbled toward him. He picked up his pack and kept just ahead of her, leading her under the shelter of a stand of close-growing alders. Without quite knowing how she got there, she found herself on the damp ground beside him.

Garret removed his coat and then his shirt, neatly folding both garments and laying them across his pack. Her head began to pound, and she found herself staring at the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest—an ideal image of human masculinity. There was nothing vulgar in the way he displayed himself, but she felt need pulsing not only in her belly but also between her thighs.

As she struggled with growing delirium, he removed a rubber cord from his pack, tied it around his arm above his biceps and flexed his hand into a fist, raising the veins in his wrist. His forearm was corded with muscle, the kind achieved only through hard manual labor.

But then she looked up at his face and noticed the pulse beating in his neck. Her mouth watered. She knew that he was no serf to be taken by the throat, though the desire to bare her own body, press it against his and sink her teeth into his neck was nearly more than she could endure. She looked at his mouth, the lips slightly parted, and wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

She hadn’t kissed anyone in over a century.

“Are you certain...this is what you wish?” she asked, her voice raw with thirst.

He didn’t seem to hear her. He ran his finger along the length of the most prominent vein in his arm and met her gaze.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

A thread of sickness coiled through her belly like a parasitic worm. “I should not—”

“Are you afraid you’ll hurt me? I promise that won’t happen.”

She licked her lips. “I can’t.”

Garret held her gaze. “You’re afraid of losing control, aren’t you? Whatever you think you might do, I’m prepared for it.”

“Perhaps... I am not.”

“You’ve run out of options, Artemis. Take my blood—or die.”

His words were more than merely a warning. They were certainty, and Artemis knew he was right. It was a kind of blackmail, but he must know that in her desperation she might still overpower him and take what she needed.

He trusted her.

One time, she told herself. Then she would be strong again, and she would have learned from her mistakes.

Unable to fight her instincts, she grabbed his arm just below the elbow and bit into his wrist, barely remembering to temper the force of the bite before her teeth pierced his skin. He didn’t so much as flinch, nor did he look away.

As his blood flowed over her tongue, Artemis felt something quite extraordinary. It wasn’t at all like taking blood from the Citadel’s public serfs, provided to Freebloods solely for the purpose of keeping them alive...barely. Nor was it similar to the times she had been compelled to feed from humans before and during the War, before the establishment of the Citadels.

That had been necessity. This was a far more intimate act, not merely a bargaining chip.

Intimate. That was the word, the sensation, the emotion, that overwhelmed her. Her body grew warm with the rush of vital nourishment and the headiness of lust.

Only after she was sated did she dare to look up. Garret’s aura was alive, a scarlet halo visible only to her mind. His eyes were like faceted emeralds, cool and hot all at once. His chest rose and fell quickly, and she could smell a distinctive change in his earthy, masculine scent.

Lust. It was happening again...his emotions were invading her mind, feeding her desire as hers fed his in an endless cycle.

Bending to his arm again, she sealed the wound. Her tongue lingered on his skin, tracing a line down to his palm. He made a sound deep in his throat, and she felt herself being pulled toward him. Her heart seemed ready to leap from her chest into his. She closed her eyes and pressed herself against him, her breasts exquisitely tender. He adjusted her to straddle him, and she could feel his hardness thrusting against her through his camouflage pants.

Then he turned his face aside, pushed her away and jumped to his feet. She did the same, trembling when she should have been at her strongest, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Wrong, she thought, all wrong. Garret had knocked her so far off balance that she wasn’t sure she would ever find her footing again.

“That should be enough to help you finish healing,” he said, reaching for his shirt as if nothing had happened. “But we’ll need to move soon.”

“We.” For a moment, she had almost forgotten.

This was a bargain. Now she had to fulfill her part of it.