“Not if you don’t want to,” he said.
She smiled at him, holding his gaze, and the tip of her pink tongue flitted out to touch him. His erection jerked in response.
“I do,” she said, and ran her tongue the length of him. She licked the drop of fluid on his tip and closed her eyes as she drew him into her mouth.
Blade held her head in his hands, trying hard to maintain control as she explored the taste and feel of him, until he could stand it no longer. He bent forward, nudging her gently so that she lay on her back in the warm sand while he rested on his palms above her.
Her blue eyes were glowing, filled with that beautiful diamond fire. Her skin glistened in the light, and he dragged one palm over her breast, along her flat stomach, until he reached the soft mound of hair between her thighs. With one finger, he stroked the slickened flesh beneath it until she cried out for him, her back arching and her hands grasping eagerly at his hips, trying to draw him to her.
He guided his erection to her opening, and with a single thrust, they were joined. Her hips rose and fell, urging him deeper and faster.
“Please, Blade.”
The expression of desire in her glowing eyes as she watched him move inside her brought him very close to the edge. He wanted to see her face when she came. Tiny ripples began, building in intensity as she tightened around him, making him shudder in anticipation. She wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out with pleasure, the spasms of her inner warmth impossible for him to resist. He groaned as he came with her.
The sounds of the sea’s waves and their heavy breathing slowly eased into his awareness. Blade ran a finger along her ribs to her thigh, making her laugh and squirm beneath him, and he tried to recall if he had ever been as happy as he was when he was with her.
She was right. He should enjoy these moments without worrying over what the future might bring. He nuzzled her hair aside and kissed the soft curve of her neck. Whether or not she chose to be his, he would always be hers. He would do his best to be worthy of her for as long as she needed him. And when she did not, he’d remember that even the goddesses believed he was unworthy of her and be man enough to walk away.
Chapter Seventeen
Justice approached Siege shortly before breakfast, when daylight had not yet made its appearance.
“There’s something you need to see,” he said.
Siege propped the six-foot staff he’d been wielding against the wall of the indoor training room. He had stripped to the waist, revealing the countless battle scars on his chest, back, and shoulders. A fine sheen of sweat dampened his leathered skin. He had very little in terms of extra weight.
Too thin, Justice decided. But still dangerous.
“What is it?” The assassin leader’s sharp tone indicated he was not pleased with the interruption to his morning exercise.
But Justice had purposely timed it to coincide with the end of the session, ensuring Siege would be tired. “One of your younger recruits left through the posterns a short while ago. He had the goddess with him. I thought you might not want anyone else to know of it.”
“Why can no one in this place keep track of the whereabouts of its residents anymore?” Siege said, but to himself, not expecting any answer. He scowled as he slid his shirt over his head, then glared at Justice. “I blame you for bringing a woman here. You’re the one who should be punished. Since I can’t do that, it will have to be the one who was too weak to resist her. He’ll need to be whipped.” Siege started for the door. “We’ll find them, and when we do, I want her locked up and under triple guard.”
He stopped at the guardhouse and summoned the young attendant to him.
“Did you see anyone leave here this morning?” Siege asked.
The guard looked uneasy. He did not meet his eyes. “Two,” he said. “A man and a woman.”
Justice was glad he had thought to have Willow approach one of the recruits and lure him away with her rather than simply invent the tale. Siege trusted him even less than he had suspected.
“Discuss this with no one,” Siege said to the guard. “No one else enters or leaves here again today unless it’s approved by me. Do you understand me?”
The guard swallowed, then nodded. The old man had a reputation for little patience with failure.
They trudged across a landscape scraped almost bare of the remnants of the first snowfall. The trail grew increasingly difficult to follow but not impossible. Willow had obeyed his instructions, and every so often, left a clear and obvious footprint.
Justice knew it was the promise of bloodshed, and not any sense of allegiance, that motivated her to obey him. Siege had been correct in his assessment of her. He wondered how the young assassin recruit would fare against her.
He also wondered if she would follow through with his plan. So far, she had done as he instructed.
It took them almost half an hour to reach the clearing, a small area off the main mountain road, where he had told Willow to wait. By the time they reached it Siege was having difficulty maintaining the pace Justice had set, the old man’s breath coming in high whistles, but he remained too stubborn to ask for a rest.
They discovered the recruit, already dead. Willow was nowhere to be seen.
Siege knelt by the wide-eyed, partially clothed body and felt for a pulse. The grim set of his mouth suggested he did not find one. His chest rose and fell as if he had difficulty containing his anger.
“You are responsible for this,” he said to Justice, his voice crackling.
“How?” Justice demanded. “One of your young men comes out here alone with a woman, who by your own orders was supposed to remain in confinement, and this is my fault?”
The old man stood, swaying unsteadily on his feet. “She’s more dangerous than you led me to believe.”
Justice caught a glimpse of calico in the gambel oak circling the clearing. “You have no idea how dangerous she really can be,” he said.
She came out of hiding, blue fire leaping from her hands. Fury twisted Siege’s face, then understanding. He did not react as Justice anticipated, but went for Justice’s throat.
The attack surprised Justice, and he stumbled on a slick patch of frozen grass. The knife Siege had slipped from one sleeve narrowly missed his jugular, catching the edge of his ear instead. If the old man had not already been tired, and restricted by a bad heart, Justice knew he would be dead now. It angered him to think that an old man, no matter how skilled, had very nearly bested him, and that the danger from him had not yet passed.
Morning light glinted off the serrated knife still steady in Siege’s gnarled fingers. “I may die today,” Siege said, “but I won’t die alone.”
The old man had his back to Willow. Past him, Justice watched her twist the flames into a tight ball. She threw it so that it slammed between Siege’s shoulders, and he burst into fire, immolating from head to toe. The knife dropped from his hand, and within seconds, all that remained was a smoking pile of ash and charred bone.
“We don’t have much time,” Justice said to Willow. “Get rid of the other one, too.”
The story he intended to spin was that Willow and the young assassin had been ambushed by Raven and her companion, and the youth had been killed, along with Siege, protecting Willow and Justice.
No one at the temple would dare question the word of a Godseeker. And by the time they brought in someone who would, Justice would have his ten assassins and be well on his way.
…
The village where Blade led them had been a flourishing mining town in his youth. Now its three mine shafts, visible past the rows of sagging houses, gaped like blackened eyes. No one had taken the time to board them over. No warning signs had been posted that Blade could see either, so he didn’t know if the mines were dangerous or simply no longer workable.