Forest of Demons (18 page)

“How is Earl spending his respite?” Aryan asked.

“Probably the same way Mia is. The man is behaving like a female while Hera keeps a level head. I swear I think we should initiate the female into our Hand in his place, at least until he regains his manhood.”

Aryan chuckled. He could understand Earl’s excitement, because he felt it too. The only difference was he was more effective at containing it. He had promised himself one thing upon leaving Ivor to the elements; he’d promised that upon his son’s return as a man, he would finally open his heart to him. There were so many things that he wished to say to his boy, so many things he wished to share. He wanted to hold him tight just once. These things he had denied himself, denied his son, for the greater good. To love him too intensely would have made him weak. It would have made it harder to do what needed to be done. Now his son would return a man, and Aryan would finally be free to love him.

“I envy you, brother,” Bojan said.

Aryan snapped out of his thoughts. “Envy? Why?”

Bojan’s lips quirked in a sardonic smile. “You have a life-mate that adores you, and a son who worships the ground kissed by your feet. You have family. I’d give anything for that.”

“And you shall have it soon.”

“I did, I mean I could have. I just . . . I should have tried harder.”

“There is no cure for insanity. What happened was not your fault.”

Bojan met his gaze, something conspiratorial entering his eyes, and for a moment Aryan thought he was going to impart a secret, but instead he relaxed and leaned back, breaking contact.

“You’re right of course. Next time . . . next time will be different.”

Respite days came once a month, treasured moments of complete indulgence. Aryan always spent them with his family. He and Mia would make the journey to the edge of the City and visit with Da and Ama, where they would be plied with Ama’s sweet meats and savory cakes, Da’s bitter wine and, on occasion, green tea from some far-off isle.

The spoils of discovery were distributed fairly so that every citizen experienced the new and foreign foods and spices at some time. The mill had even succeeded in growing or replicating some of the items found.

On respite day they enjoyed good food, drink, and interesting conversation, but this respite day was special. This respite day was their last as a family, because Da would be gone before the next. Aryan was just glad that Da would be there to welcome Ivor home and take part in the Conversion ceremony that would brand him a man.

Aryan and Mia walked arm in arm through The City. He looked down at his life-mate, radiant in her crimson and cream robe, her dark hair piled atop her head in a classic twist that exposed the slender column of her neck. He capitulated to the urge to lean down and place a tender kiss on her nape.

She smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with pleasure.

This was how it should be between them. How it had been before.

Tiger Eyes’ face was a smudge in his mind. He no longer ached for her. The strange fever she had infected him with had finally passed from his system. He wished to never see her again, part of him afraid that he would once again be bound by obsession. The City was vast, but not so vast that he may never glimpse her. He hoped the glimpse would be brief and a long time coming.

“Love, what are you pondering?” Mia asked.

“I was wondering when this day would be over so I could take you home and ravish you.”

“Ravish?” She laughed. “So you’re feeling amorous on the eve of our son’s return? Do you plan on filling my womb again?”

Aryan blinked in surprise. The thought had not occurred, but now she had mentioned it, the idea of another child did appeal. Tonight when he fucked her he would do it with intent. They would have another child.

Reading his silence as disapproval she ducked her head. “It was simply a suggestion.”

He drew her to a halt, tilting her chin up with his crooked finger. “And a wonderful one. We
will
have another child.”

Her smile was the sun and her eyes, the stars.

He leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. Yes, this was how it should be.

“Mia, you look lovely!” Ama pulled her into a crushing embrace, shooing Aryan past into the house.

He left them to their reunion in the entryway, slipping through into the family room where Da greeted him with a cup of green tea.

Aryan lowered his body onto one of the padded seats reserved for his visits. Da had crafted the seat especially for him a few years ago when he had first moved into Transition. Hands brought wood from the other side of the Island once every month. In The City it was used simply for crafting, because, although a source of fuel, it paled in comparison to the black rock and blue fluid that could be found in abundance within the rock walls that surrounded The City.

Aryan sipped his tea, fragrant and soothing. It cleared his mind.

“How was escort duty?” Da kept his eyes fixed on his cup. His tone was neutral, but riddled with layers.

Of course, Da had been on several escort runs in his time as a warrior. He had even been on two discovery voyages. He would know . . . he would
know
. Aryan tensed. Did he really want to talk about his experience? Did he really want to know his da’s views? Da looked up, and Aryan’s breath caught in his chest because there was too much knowledge in those eyes; a concoction of emotions slipping and sliding over each other.

He was almost afraid to ask. “Da? What happened to you?”

Da dropped his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, not anymore. It only matters what happens now.”

Aryan was still deciding what to say when the words spilt from his lips unbidden. “It was horrific, the warriors . . . they were horrific. I couldn’t stop them. I could have tried but . . .”

“You knew it would be futile. Did you report it?”

“Yes.”

“But nothing has been done.”

The pit in his stomach grew wider. “Marduk made it clear that there was nothing to be done.”

Da sighed. “It is the way. It’s accepted. Horrific things happen, and then we are cleansed.”

“But it’s hypocrisy. It’s amoral. How can we call ourselves true believers of The Divine if we can thwart his word so easily when distant from his presence?”

“Because our nature is
not
divine.”

“What?”

Da shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re safe. You did what you had to do to survive.” His eyes took on a faraway look.

He had to know. “Did you do what you had to in order to survive?”

Da closed his eyes. “I saved your ama. I petitioned for her as a life-mate after her cleansing.” He leaned forward. “She didn’t remember me, but . . . there was something, a spark in her eyes when she was gifted to me that made me believe that somewhere, deep inside, she knew me still.”

Tiger Eyes’ face flashed through his mind in all its sharp-edged beauty, eliciting a stab of longing that misted his vision. This couldn’t be happening, shouldn’t be happening. He had prayed for these feelings to be taken from him. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the image back into darkness before opening them again.

Da’s eyes flared. He sat back heavily in his seat. “Oh! My dear boy. Who is she?”

A rock was sitting on his chest, crushing his windpipe, bringing the sting of tears to his eyes. When he finally found his voice, it was an uncertain rasp.

“What’s wrong with me?”

Da’s lips lifted in a lopsided smile, his eyes empty. “Nothing, my son. Absolutely nothing.”

They sipped their tea in silence. “Something is coming, Da. We were attacked on our way to the shore. There was a blizzard, and these creatures, I am certain they were ice wraiths, attacked us. I reported it, but Marduk seemed just as unconcerned about that as the returning warriors’ behavior.”

Da sat up straighter. “You’re sure? You’re sure they were Ice Wraith’s?”

Before Marduk he had not hesitated, but now before his da his confidence wavered. “Of course, I’m not certain, no one has seen one in a century, but what else could they be? The other men seemed to think the same. They were . . . .horrific, and the screams . . . they pierced your very soul.”

Da slumped back. “Yes, the scream of an ice wraith is the stuff of legend.” He shook his head. “Ice wraiths . . . who would have thought.”

They lapsed into silence once more, both tumbling into their own thoughts.

That night as he buried his shaft inside Mia, as she moaned with pleasure, clawing at his back, as he rammed into her again and again, it was not her face he saw looking up at him lips parted in ecstasy, it was not her eyes pleading for more, but tiger eyes burning a hole in his heart and squeezing his balls until he was insane with desire. He held onto
her
image and fucked
her
until his seed exploded from his body in a climax that left him weak and spent.

As Mia drifted into blissful slumber, he lay alert and conscious, his body coated in a fine sheen of guilt. Da’s words came back to him, words meant to comfort, but that only served to confound him further, because despite Da’s words, there was no doubt in his mind that there was something terribly wrong with him.

Aryan hurried to meet with his team outside the Force Headquarters, eager to be out on rotation, eager to be away from Mia and the constant reminder of his mental infidelity. In a few hours The City would welcome home their sons. Mia was already at the great hall, aiding the preparations for the Conversion ceremony. He’d walked her there. As he’d kissed her good-bye at the bottom of the steps, she’d placed her hand on her abdomen, smiling up at him conspiratorially. He hadn’t the heart to tell her that the last thing on his mind when he had fucked her had been making another child and without his intent there would be no conception.

The force headquarters came into view, and Aryan relaxed. A normal day of duties would sooth him, and once Ivor had returned, once he had been converted, Aryan would request an audience with The Voice.

He bound up the steps and through the heavy doors. Bojan greeted him with a raised hand, and Cadoc waved him over urgently. Earl was huddled with them too, but they weren’t by the rotation board as expected. They were stood to one side by the steps that led up to The enforcer’s office.

Aryan joined them. “Where’s Fen?”

“Probably recovering from all the cunny he got last night.”

Aryan frowned. “What? Fen has been gifted?”

Bojan nodded, his eyes hooded.

Cadoc grinned. “He received summons during respite. They were bounded the same hour.”

Bojan was staring at him oddly. Unease squirmed in his abdomen like a tin of worms.

He swallowed. “Well. I’ll be sure to congratulate him. I don’t suppose you’ve met her?”

Cadoc shrugged, his expression darkening. “We met them all, albeit briefly.” Silence fell over them, smothering them in memories of their failure.

“She won’t remember. She doesn’t,” Cadoc said. “I met her for a moment last night. Alma was insistent we take over a small gift to welcome her to The City, and only a fool would deny a woman whatever she wanted in the third cycle of her carrying.” He paused, as if considering something, his brows drawn. “Alma liked her but . . . there is something disconcerting about her eyes.” He frowned.

Any hope Aryan may have entertained that they weren’t speaking of Tiger Eyes was dashed. He glanced in Bojan’s direction and saw something that made his temper rise. He saw sympathy.

He couldn’t allow his men to pity him, to know of his obsession. She belonged to one of his warriors now. If that was not incentive enough to shake himself free of his infatuation, then he didn’t know what was.

“I shall have to congratulate him on his binding. I’m certain Mia will wish to visit with some gift also, once Ivor has returned of course,” he said.

“That’s what we were speaking of.” Earl said eagerly. “Hera has decided to hold a gathering to celebrate Victor’s return, and you’re all invited. We hope to turn it into a double celebration to welcome Valasea to the City.

Valasea. That was her name. Valasea. It sat on his tongue, dying to be uttered, but he swallowed it hastily. It struck him then that he would see her later. Would he look into those eyes and see a spark, or would there be only polite enquiry?

Earl continued to speak, but Aryan was no longer listening, instead he drifted to the rotation board on the pretext of checking their duties.

“Are you all right, Chief?” Bojan asked.

Aryan schooled his features into indifference before facing the warrior. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Bojan raised a sceptical brow. Aryan stared back at him impassively until the brow dropped and his lips turned down.

“We should get to work.”

Boiler room duty was dirty, heavy work but ultimately satisfying. The fuel tunnels were long and winding, leading deeper and deeper into the earth. Aryan would never openly admit it, but the deeper they went, the harder he struggled to breathe. It frightened him, so he kept his peace, because it would not do for a warrior to be afraid.

It was close work, tapping the rock for blue fluid, chipping away until they uncovered the black rock. Tracks had been laid, atop which sat heavy crates. These they filled with rock. The fluid was poured into crimson skins that were laid atop the rocks. Once finished they would pull a lever to activate the cogs that would take the crates back up to The City, and directly to the boiler room.

Their quota was eight crates, which even to able warriors such as themselves seemed excessive, but they worked steadily, their bodies becoming slick with perspiration, their breath labored.

“Bojan, Cadoc, take a rest,” Aryan said.

“I’m fine,” Bojan said.

“Me too,” Cadoc echoed. “The sooner we finish the sooner we can get out of these tunnels.”

Fen laughed. “I for one can’t wait to get home.”

Aryan’s grip on his digger tightened, he exhaled and consciously unwound his fingers from the wooden shaft before transferring it to his other hand. Fen had joined them late and had done nothing but speak about his life-mate, regaling them with tales of her beauty and intelligence. Considering the fact that he had known her for but a day, he seemed sorely qualified to regale them with anything much, and yet he kept speaking.