The Fae Lord's Lady Page 10

  The blond’s hand flew to a pocket, and a thin blade appeared.

  Oh, this was bad, so bad. She didn’t like seeing blood, especially her own.

  Savin threw himself at the two other guys, but they were prepared and rebuffed him with a few well-placed punches. He bounced backward before tackling them.

  Natalie could only watch, appalled. She’d only seen a move like that in football. These people seemed to know how to fight, and she didn’t want to be in the midst of it.

  Pushing her chair slowly back, she inched toward a wall. From there, she could see the faint outline of the exit. If only she could make it there before —

  Someone crashed close to her chair. Too close. She bolted out of the way of the incoming bodies and cowered against the wall. The chair was soon nothing but pieces of jagged wood.

  The sound of fist on skin made her wince. This wasn’t some friendly tussle. They were playing to kill. Though she hated violence, she knew whom she wanted to win.

  She snuck a glance at the door and then at the men. Their attention was solely focused on each other, so she crept toward freedom. So close now. Every breath she took thundered in her ears, loud and laborious.

  Just when the door was within reach, someone grabbed her around the waist and threw her toward the wall. Her head cracked hard against the concrete-like material, and stars exploded before her eyes. She gasped, pain radiating from the back of her skull.

  "Look who’s trying to escape," Sivin’s breathless voice gritted in her ear. The prick of a blade at her neck froze her to the core. "Sadly, I might have to forgo any pleasure with you. It seems that you must be my bargaining piece out of here."

  "Let her —"

  The door banged open, and someone rushed in. Though it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the early evening light flooding the entrance, every nerve ending in her body screamed that it was Lorh.

  When her sight cleared enough to see who it was, she nearly cried.

  Lorh’s gaze landed on her and Sivin. His face contorted, rage in every line. "Let her go. Or you die. Painfully and slowly."

  Shocked fascination rolled through Natalie. She believed him. Totally. If she hadn’t trusted him so implicitly to protect her, she would’ve been a bit frightened. He was filled with wrath in a way she’d never suspected he could be.

  The knife dug a little deeper into her skin. "If you want her alive, you’ll call off all guards near the outer walls of the town. You can have her back in one piece after I leave safely through the gates."

  "Don’t trust him on that."

  Lorh’s gaze swung to Timmin, and he regarded him coldly. "And why should I believe you?"

  The man held up his hands. "We will accept our fair punishment, but we sought no true harm and have even fought to protect her." As if to validate his words, a trickle of blood ran down his brow and to his cheek.

  "If that’s true, then you need to choose your friends more wisely."

  Timmin shrugged. "He’s a peer who I once thought I had something in common with. I was mistaken."

  "The truth will come out soon enough." Lorh turned his attention back to Sivin. "So you’ve chosen your fate?"

  The hand on the blade shook. A thrill of satisfaction swept over Natalie. So the psycho was afraid? About time. Maybe it would cause him to slip up. Then the alternative dawned. Or he might get desperate and kill her. She gulped.

  "Move away from the entrance," Sivin said.

  "I can’t do that."

  Sivin took a deep breath. "Well, then, we’re at an impasse. You leave me no choice but to —" He threw himself and Natalie toward the small space between Lorh and the exit, apparently hoping to hurtle them out of the storeroom.

  She made her body a deadweight, but it seemed to do little good with the momentum he had going, not to mention his strength. But then he stumbled. His arm loosened slightly. She got her feet under her. Gritting her teeth, she tried to twist out of his hold. The force of her move broke his grip, but he quickly grabbed her by her hair, yanking her back. Without thought, she slammed her heel down on his foot. Thankfully, his soft leather boots were no match for her, even though her action did send pain shimmying up her leg.

  With a yelp, Sivin released her, but he also sent her careening toward the floor. Before she could strike the hard surface, someone snatched her out of the air. Strong arms cradled her. Tears welled in her eyes. Lorh. It had to be him. It could only be him.

  When she looked down, she regretted it. Sivin lay on the floor, a knife sticking out of his neck. Thin lines of red trickled from the wound, and his glassy eyes stared at nothing. That told her all she needed to know. He was dead.

  The familiar queasy sensation she got whenever she saw blood flooded her system. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth, and her head fell back against his chest, though she couldn’t rip her gaze off the scene below. "Who did that?" she asked, her voice muffled.

  "I did."

  Lorh’s words rumbled under her ear. She hadn’t known if Lorh carried any kind of weapon on him, but she wasn’t surprised he did. He’d killed to protect her. How did that make her feel? A little bit guilty, but not as much as she thought she would.

  He set her down on her feet and turned her head away. "Don’t look."

  "But —"

  "His fate could’ve so easily been yours. Don’t regret his death."

  She swallowed the tears clogging her throat. "I know."

  Gentle hands cupped her face. "Are you hurt?" His gaze fell to her throat. "You have a nick."

  She did? Touching it, she discovered a tiny cut. His hand covered hers.

  "Do you have any other injuries?"

  She shook her head, but the ache in the back of her skull reminded her that she probably had a knot forming. "Just a bump to the back on my head where it hit the wall."

  His fingers sought out the knot, and she winced. It was definitely tender.

  Lorh’s lips compressed and drew into a thin line. "Sivin’s doing?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything else?" he asked, one hand settling on her waist, the other on her shoulder blade.

  Her mind went back to Sivin’s threats, and a shiver racked her. "No, he mostly made a bunch of threats and talked a lot." Remembering the other two fae men, she gestured to them. "They ensured nothing truly bad happened."

  Lorh pinned the duo with a stare. "For that, you have my thanks. But you still have much to answer for."

  Expressionless, they nodded, not saying anything. Some spark of fairness made Natalie speak. "I don’t think they knew much, if any, of Sivin’s plans."

  "My captain of guard will question them. We’ll know more, then."

  As if arriving on cue, a few guardsmen poured into the room. Their light plate armor and chainmail barely made a sound, and they stood tall and at the ready for Lorh’s commands.

  One male, who had a red plume on his helm, separated from the group and marched up to Lorh.

  "Captain, see that the body is taken away and returned to where it belongs. And take these men into custody for questioning."

  The man clicked his heels together smartly. "Yes, my lord." He then headed back to his men, and soon they cleared the room of the three.

  A few seconds after the soldiers had left with their charges, Maya entered and rushed toward her and Lorh.

  "You are unharmed?" the woman asked, anxiety laced into her tone.

  Lorh answered for her. "Physically, only a few minor injuries, but mentally, she’s had quite the shock."

  "You poor thing. When Lorh couldn’t find you, I was so worried."

  "She mentioned what you’d overheard in the market," Lorh said. "That was instrumental in letting me know that my intuition of there being something wrong was well-founded."

  A wave of gratitude crashed over Natalie. Maya’s information had probably allowed Lorh to find her more quickly. She sent the fae woman a shaky smile. "Thank you."

  Maya waved her appreciation away. "I’m just relieved you�
��re safe." She turned a stern glare to Lorh, and they seemed to share some kind of secret communication. "I hope she gets no further shocks today."

  He lifted his chin and pulled Natalie closer. "Not if I can help it."

  What was that about? Unless… Maya’s words about his wife flooded back to her, along with Sivin’s assertions that his wife had been human and the children were Lorh’s. While Maya hadn’t seemed to lie, could she trust anything that man had said? And why would Lorh say his children were his siblings? There was no conceivable reason that she could see for it, but he was hiding something, and her head was developing that pounding ache that had nothing to do with the knot on her noggin.

  She wanted to groan in misery about it all. Something fishy was going on, and she couldn’t even think about it without a blaring headache.

  Apparently, she’d let a sound slip or given some other sign of distress because Lorh’s hand tightened around her waist. "What is it, Natalie?"

  Though she wanted to question him, the throb in her head had eased, and she couldn’t stand the idea of it coming back right now. "Just tired."

  The tender look he gave her nearly made everything fade away for a moment. It was just him and her, narrowed down to a pinprick. But then he broke eye contact.

  "Natalie needs to rest now. If you’ll excuse us, Maya?"

  The woman bowed her head in acquiescence. "Of course. I hope you both have a peaceful evening." She gave them a parting smile and left.

  With an arm around her shoulder, Lorh guided Natalie out. He hurried her from the alleyway, as if realizing it might bring back the terror of her short kidnapping.

  The setting sun cast the market square in long shadows. People still mingled, though the crowd was much less dense than it had been. Owners were closing their shops for the night and packing wares away. All in all, it was a tranquil scene, so at odds with the incident that’d happened mere hours ago.

  Tiredness dogged her every step. Now that the drama was over, she wanted her bed or a big glass of soda. Her mouth watered, but reality hit. There was no soda here. At least she didn’t think so. "Lorh, you don’t have soda here, do you?"

  "Soda?" His brow scrunched up. "You mean baking soda? Or that funny fizzy drink humans love so well?"

  A slightly wild giggle escaped her. Were they really discussing soda at a time like this? "Yes, I’m talking about the carbonated drink. It’s not particularly good for a person."

  "Why drink it if it’s not good for you?"

  "Because it’s yummy, and sometimes I crave it."

  "I guess that’s no different than wanting sweets."

  "So you don’t have it?"

  "Not that I know of."

  Well, that was disappointing. "You don’t know what you’re missing."

  "I think I’ll live."

  "Yeah, because you’ve apparently never tried it."

  He wrinkled his nose. "I have, and I didn’t care for it…at all."

  "Really? When did you try it?"

  The smile slipped from his face. "Many years ago on Earth, but please ask me no more."

  She frowned. He gives her a tidbit like that and demands she not question him? "You know this secrecy thing is getting really old? Don’t you know me well enough to tell the truth? Is it that you don’t trust me?" Because, really, what else could it be? All this talk of three weeks had to be a delay tactic for telling her something she wouldn’t want to hear.

  Plowing on, she ignored the twinge near her temple. "Are you afraid I’m going to be mad? Were Sivin’s words true?"

  With alarming swiftness, he stopped and grabbed her by both arms. "What did he tell you?"

  The pain in her head was screaming now, but it barely registered in the face of the wild spark in his gaze. "He…he said the children were yours and that they’re half-human."

  She wet her lips, forcing the words out of the stranglehold of her vocal cords. "Is it true?"

  Lorh closed his eyes as if in agony and released her before turning his face resolutely to the ground. Heaviness coursed down through her body, making her feel as if she were going to plunge straight into the ground.

  He didn’t need to answer. His body language said it all.

  "It is true." Hurt, betrayal, and so much more all swam in a sickening rush through her. She wanted to throw up. Everything had been lies, and everything, everything, hurt. "So many lies. Why?" she gritted out between clenched teeth.

  He looked up, devastation in his eyes. "I can’t tell you."

  A hysterical laugh bubbled up, and a fresh hammer strike of pain flowed. "Do you have some kind of fixation for human fiancées? What is it?" she said, enunciating each word clearly and yelling by the time she’d gotten to the last one.

  A flinch rocked his frame, but he said nothing. Guess she had her answer.

  Nausea heaved at her. She clutched at her stomach with one hand and at her head with the other. With a gag, she emptied her stomach at his feet.

  His arms closed around her urgently. "We need to get you back to the manor."

  "Don’t touch me." But she didn’t have the energy to stand anymore, let alone fight him on it. He lifted her into his arms. Though she tried to keep herself stiff, she just wanted to collapse against something and not move a muscle.

  Her body turned traitor, and gravity won. Even her cheek ended up pillowed against his shoulder. Lorh’s quick stride, though gentle, still jostled her around. Every movement burrowed straight for her head and tummy.

  She wanted to yell at him, hit him, slam a door in his face, but she couldn’t do any of those things because it meant she’d have to move.

  A deep, steadying breath didn’t help. The spicy pine scent of Lorh flooded her nose, and instead of calming her like it usually did, it renewed the open rebellion between her head and her tummy. She smothered the moan on her lips.

  Lorh tightened his grip around her, and his frantic voice sounded as if it were coming from underwater. "Hold on, Natalie. You need a healer. We’re almost there."

  She opened her mouth to respond, but white-hot agony seared her brain. A whimper ripped from her throat. Her head felt as if it were being torn into, grated, and fractured into a million slivers. Fear snaked through her. What was wrong?

  Through one of the cracks in her mind, unbidden images broke through to the surface. They came at her in a rush, and at first, she couldn’t make any sense of them. She gasped, overwhelmed. Slowly, they ordered themselves into some semblance of a pattern. Pictures of Lorh and his siblings — no, his children — wound around her mind. And in nearly every frame, a strangely familiar woman accompanied them. At first, her face remained hazy, but the very sight of her caused her heart to thunder and lurch.

  This woman — she knew this woman. Why was her face always obscured? Natalie gritted her teeth. The answer was there, and she only had to grasp it. Why couldn’t she? Anvils and images pounded at her skull. Somehow, she knew the pain would ease if she followed the truth into the abyss. But would she lose herself and never come out?

  Digging her fingers into Lorh’s tunic, she clung to the physical sensation to keep some part of her grounded to reality. She delved deeper into the moving pictures. Her body trembled, and in the back of her mind, she was conscious that he had broken into a run. Still, none of that mattered compared to the maddening images firing around her.

  Waves of images surrounded her on every side. With mental hands, she picked one, and it exploded to life before her eyes.

  Lorh, the children, and the woman were picnicking in a grassy glen. A newborn Sirina was cuddled in her mother’s arms, and Lorh held them both close as they watched the older children run around. The woman turned her head to lay a kiss on Lorh’s jaw.

  Suddenly, Natalie saw everything through the woman’s eyes as if she were actually experiencing the moment in real-time. The love in her husband’s gaze twisted Natalie into a greater knot. Her husband. Why did that term sound so right and familiar? Was she reliving this woman’s memory?


  Then as quickly as Natalie had been plunged directly into the memory, she panned out. Once again, she could see the woman’s whole body. Natalie stared at her face, her nerves strung so tight she feared her mind would fly into orbit if she didn’t discover the mystery.

  As through disappearing fog, the features slowly revealed themselves. First, the mouth. Then the eyes. Finally, the general shape of the face.

  Horror ripped through Natalie. She was looking at herself.

  10

  Lorh ran toward the manor, each step feeling clumsy and heavy. Natalie’s tense body shook in his arms. Her eyes seemed to stare at nothing and rarely blinked.

  Fright for her physical and emotional condition froze his blood. Annaka had warned him the process could be traumatic in every way. It appeared she’d been right.

  He eyed the distance to the manor and its healing hall — so close yet each moment stretched into infinity. She needed help, possibly more than he could give her. That very thought nearly tore a cry from his already raw throat.

  Natalie’s body went completely rigid, and a whimper escaped her. Pain flitted across her face as she screwed her face up, turning her eyes into narrow slits.

  Soon, her lids opened wider, and her eyes moved from side to side as if she were watching a scrolling picture.

  A look of horror spread across her face, and robbed it of all color. With a small screech, she became a limp weight in his arms. Her clutching fingers fell away from his tunic.

  He raced to the healing hall, careening past the gardener and his help. She was breathing, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest sent stark terror to his heart. Was she stuck in some horrible memory? What if it proved to be too much for her body, the committee’s spell no doubt amplifying the effects?

  The double wooden doors of the healing hall stood before him. Though he could will them open, a satisfying and well-placed kick sent them banging against the wall.

  Striding down the hallway, he sought out Lurin. The door at the end was open.

  He entered the room, and gave a silent prayer that the redheaded healer was there. "Lurin, quickly, she’s unconscious. I think she’s…" The words shuddered in his throat. "She’s remembering."