DarykHunter (15 page)

After she fallen into the hands of that bloody slave trader, he didn’t want to leave her, his fear too strong. He couldn’t lose her. Logic played no part in his feelings. Doubling his trepidation was the fear she might go to Rayder, and he didn’t trust the bastard well enough to put her into Rayder’s hands. Rayder had experienced excitement during the fight too. If she’d been willing, Rayder would have had sex from her to relieve his lust.

Though he’d never experienced sharing a woman, he’d heard that Rayder had enjoyed two women at once. By Draconus, Rayder would be dead if he touched Ketera, and he didn’t relish fighting with his old friend, even if the man had become a slave trader.

He pushed away violent thoughts and apprehension and vowed to keep his eyes open. Last evening he and Rayder had passed through a particularly dangerous stretch of jungle. A few miles remained before the jungle would part and welcome them back into the relative safety of Grimnald Castle.

“How much longer to go?” she asked.

“A couple of miles. Not far now.”

“I always thought I was well-conditioned until I started this adventure.”

“Is that what you thought it was? An adventure?”

She shrugged, her held high. There was some pride in this woman for certain. “No, not really. All that is on my mind is finding a way to get back to my father.” Worry lines or perhaps anger lingered on her face. “I haven’t done right by him.”

“You’re trying.”

“I need to find a ship that will take me back to Magonia, and instead I’m traipsing about the country.”

Impatience rolled up inside him. “Do you always complain this much?”

“Complain?” She stopped dead and glared at him, her gaze as icy as a glacier in Imekland. “What are you talking about?”

He caught her upper arm and continued walking. “You can’t do anything about the situation right now and yet you’re complaining.”

“Damn it, Dane, I won’t be told how to vent my anger. You’re allowed to be this big brute with anger issues but I’m not?”

“Anger issues?”

“Yes. Someone who always blusters and boldly goes wherever he wants because he’s so strong and indelible? I thought women here are allowed full expression.”

He barked out a laugh, half offended and thoroughly amused. An inkling of shame worked its way into the recipe too. “You’re right.”

She halted so fast she jerked him to a stop. “What?”

“I said, you’re right.”

Her mouth opened then closed then opened again when she found her voice. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“I’m a reasonable man. At least as reasonable as any Daryk One can be, given our abilities and notions. We’re beastly men, Ketera, I acknowledge that. It takes a lot for us to admit we’re wrong.”

“I see.” Her voice held an ironic tone. “How are the Daryk Ones governed if they cannot agree who is right and who is wrong?”

“We’re extraordinary. We work as a team whenever we’re in each other’s presence. At least that’s the way it used to be until Drakus broke away and gathered rogues to his cause.”

She nodded, and Dane started them moving again as he released her arm. “You saw how Rayder and I worked to save you, even though we are within an inch of killing each other.”

“Because of his betrayal?”

“Right. No Daryk One should ever consider being a slave trader. It goes against every oath we take to protect the innocent and those unable to help themselves.”

He glanced over to see her mouth twist slightly, and her gaze catching his was full of doubt. “Have there ever been Daryk Ones who were of mixed blood? Magonian and Dragonian.”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Her mouth softened, as if she wanted to speak but thought the better of it. “Curiosity. Now back to the original subject. How do I find a ship to take me back to Magonia? There must be a way.”

“Minilos knows a man who can help you. Someone we can trust.”

“Another Daryk One?”

“Finius Dow. You must never utter his name to anyone you cannot trust.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a pirate of sorts. Not the kind who rapes or murders. But he does steal. Minilos wouldn’t deal with a scourge who hurt other people.”

Ketera laughed softly. “A kindly pirate then.”

“Of a sorts. He’s dedicated to robbing the Magonian ships of their goods. Your tyrant stone, which Dragonians use in their mating vows, for example.”

“Mating vows?”

“Marriage, as you’d know it.”

“Do Daryk One’s perform mating vows?”

“Yes. Didn’t your precious texts tell you that?”

“Yes, but not specifically Daryk Ones. The texts didn’t mention Daryk Ones at all.”

Another glance at her made his heart thud slow and thick. Heat poured into his body at the thought of having her permanently linked to him. Then it dawned on him what she’d said. “How old did you say the texts are?”

“Not quite two thousand years old. Perhaps less.”

“Did the texts explain how our two continents came to be such bitter enemies?”

“They mentioned a great war between two ideals but little about what those ideals were. Our scribes tell us that both our people lived on Magonian at one time, but that after the war, the Dragonians moved to this land mass. The texts seem more interested in describing the differences between our peoples and the commonalities. It’s those commonalities and truths about Dragonians the scribes don’t want us to know.”

“Do the texts explain why our languages are the same? Why they haven’t evolved apart?”

“They have…a little. Your names for things are often different than ours.”

“There is much more you have to learn about Dragonia, Ketera—”

A loud roaring came from nearby, and Dane came to a complete stop. “Damn it.”

“What is it?” She glanced around frantically.

“Another dragon. Only this one sounds like it’s in distress. There might be hunters nearby.”

“Dragons are hunted?” Genuine surprise colored her voice. “By Daryk Ones?”

“Never. We only kill to defend. Poachers kill them for sport and their hides. Even though dragons are mostly dangerous, our laws forbid us to hunt them.”

As if he’d cursed them by mentioning the dubious safety of the area, a strange rumbling echoed in the forest.

Startled, Ketera looked around. “What on Croan was that?”

Dane’s focus shifted, his eyes scanning the area with intensity. Another low rumble came from the jungle and in the distance the very tops of huge trees swayed.

Ah, shit. No denying that sound.

We’re here in the jungle with nowhere to hide. No castle. No walls. The dragon is coming near.

Fear started its slow creep up Dane’s spine. Every Daryk One, if he knew his worth, feared a dragon encounter. Even with his extensive training, his lightning-fast reflexes, dragons were nothing to play with.

“This is the time, Ketera. If I say run, run. If I say stop, stop.”

Vibration started under their feet and a low, throbbing pounding echoed in the ears. A dragon’s unimaginable weight trembled the ground beneath their feet.

“Is the dragon close?” she asked.

“It’s running. So should we.”

Before she could gasp out another question, the pounding became harder, more intense. He grabbed her arm and they were off. Dane’s zig and zag took them through the thick fronds, hanging vines and tangling shoots. Then something happened he didn’t expect. One of the shoots jumped up and grabbed Ketera’s left ankle. She cried out in pain. Blood rushed through his veins, his instant need to protect surging to life. A ridigulate plant, at least six feet across at the base, had lashed out for a meal.

Fuck.

He should have steered clear of the plant.

Behind him the pounding was louder, and now the shouts of poachers driving the dragon came in the far distance.

Ketera gasped but nothing came from her throat. No time to warn her not to try to get the vine off.

Instinct gave him extra speed as he grabbed his sword, swung and cut the vein from the main plant. With a rasp the plant drew back the rest of its vine and remained still. Fuckin’ ridigulates were cowards.

Ketera’s pale face reflected intense pain, and he knew it had to come from the poison already invading her body. She reached out for him, and panic clenched his throat. He fell to the ground and grabbed at the dead vine. He drew it away with swift moves, unwinding it and tossing it aside.

A second later he caught her in his arms as she fell. Large welts spiraled around her ankle and halfway up her calf. Her face flushed, her breath coming quickly. “Dane, what’s happening?”

“Damn the hells! You’re poisoned.” He drew her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers in a swift, hot kiss.

As his tongue plunged deep, he hoped his immunity would do the trick. He’d been correct earlier saying his kiss would protect her from any threat by beast or bug. She met his tongue in desperation, twining around his in a sexual thrust and parry that made his groin harden instantly. He ignored arousal in favor of making sure she received a full measure of his immunity. He couldn’t turn this into a sexual session. The dragon and poachers were getting closer.

He groaned and grabbed her hand. “Come on. We’ve got to run!”

He heard her gasp of pain as she followed, but he couldn’t indulge her injury. Time demanded otherwise. They ran, careening through the jungle, still heading for the castle but at a slight angle to the northeast. He kept his fingers tightly entwined with hers. He couldn’t afford to lose her in this thick mess. He kept his eyes peeled for any more vines, creepers and snakes. Draconus knew the place teamed with anything and everything that could kill.

Two men jumped from the clearing in front of him. He released her hand, his sword in hand with one swift move. “Ketera, stay back!”

The tall men were obviously followers of Drakus, but they weren’t Daryk Ones gone bad. Both men wore tunics, black long breeches, and had braided their dirty, dark hair in two plaits. Nope. Definitely not Daryk Ones. Not as big or as strong either, but not to be ignored. Especially not with Ketera in need of his protection.

“Dane, there’s two behind us!”

He turned quickly to get the lay of the land, snatched his dagger from his waist and handed it to her. These brutes were dressed similarly to the two men on his side. “If anyone comes near you, cut him and ask questions later.”

Perspiration dampened her face and her breath came in great gulps. “Dane…” Her voice held a shaky uncertainty. She didn’t look good. By the god, if he hadn’t gotten all the poison—

The men charged. She screamed, but in a defiant cry that meant business. He turned in time to block one man’s sword thrust then the other’s, and soon his movements flowed as he’d been taught since he was young, a flow of thrust and move and swipe and cut. He’d known all his life how to fight and knew he was faster than these men. Ketera’s life depended on him. He slashed one man across the throat, almost enough to sever his head. The man dropped.

Ketera cried out in female rage, her fighting fierce. All he could hope was that she did some damage. He couldn’t let fear for her cause him to make a mistake.

But it did.

One flinch the wrong way and the attacker feigned to the left and slashed him across the ribs. Pain didn’t come, but Dane felt the hot blood. It only made him angrier. He growled, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he spun, slashed, and with a clean stab to the chest, the other poacher fell dead.

Dane turned in time to see one of the other poachers on the ground, the dagger in his chest. The last attacker circled her, ready to play.

She’d picked up a huge rock, her breath puffing out as if she’d run a hundred miles with a dragon on her heels. “Stay away from me, you filth!”

Before Dane could come to her aid, she tossed the large rock. He expected it to miss its mark. Instead, it clonked the bandit between the eyes and he flew backward and lay still with his eyes wide open. She’d killed two men. Surprise made him stagger. Then he remembered his wound and his hand went to his side. Blood stained his fingers. Damn the hells.

“Ketera.” He went to her, dragged her into his arms and held her close.

She buried her face in his neck, her breathing hard, almost sounding like sobs. “Dane. Thank the god.” She lifted her face to his, the horror mirrored in her eyes something he’d never seen on her before. “Dane, I killed those men. I killed them.”

“You had no choice. I’m proud of you.”

She jerked back out of his arms. “Proud? Proud? It’s the most awful feeling I can imagine.”

Anger replaced his concern. “You know the worst feeling I can imagine? That you’d kept your damn morals intact and those men killed you. That’s the worst feeling imaginable to me.”

Looking stunned and ready to retort, she glanced down and noticed the blood on his tunic. Worry stamped her face. “You’re hurt.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Damn breast plate shifted and the poacher cut me. We need to hide. We can’t get to the castle in time, and there are more poachers out there. They’re going to look for their friends. When they find them dead, all hells will break loose.” Her face was still unusually pale and she trembled violently. He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in both hands. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“I can’t stop shaking.”

Worry slammed him. “Could be the fight, or the poison is still working on you.” He released her. “There’s a cave not far from here. We need to go there.” His vision wavered in and out, and pain started to surface. For him and for her, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Let’s go.”

He took her hand and they ran into the jungle once more.

They ran until they couldn’t and the cave entrance came into view. It was high enough on a hill that it commanded a decent view of the area below. Still, it was covered in vines. At least none of them were carnivorous.

“We’re going up there?” she asked, breath still coming fast.

“Yes. Follow me.”

Without hesitation he plunged forward, his side aching and stinging. It wasn’t the worst injury he’d encountered, but it still hurt like the blazes. He kept a hold on her hand, and she staggered up the hill easier than he expected. He felt like dragon dung, and that wasn’t a good sign. Maybe the poachers had used Magonian poison on their swords? Why hadn’t he thought of that before? If they had, one thing needed to be accomplished.