Hunted: The Warrior Chronicles #2 (22 page)

The power was eating them up. Without release, it would kill them both.

Desperate, her mind racing, she pictured their surroundings. If she tried to throw it upward, it would mushroom out and hit everyone around them. Rohnan would surely die, and so might some of the others. Instead, clutching onto her last resources of control, she tried to smother the rolling, churning power of Cayan with her
Gift
and seek out an area without human life. Minds flared into a crystal clear mental image. The power boiled. Her skin felt like it was melting off. Her mouth went dry as her vision went black.

She picked a direction and EXPLODED.

A hurricane of power tore from her and Cayan and rumbled the ground. It blasted through the trees, singed the air, and killed any animal life in its path. The torrent sucked out of her middle and extinguished like a candle in a windstorm.

Their panting breath sounded through the silence. They stood in an
absence
.

Shanti still clutched onto Cayan, shaking. Staring with wide eyes at the green around them, her hard inhalations rang in her ears.

She felt movement from the warm body pressed tightly against her. Hardly able to think, she watched his chest get further away and felt fingertips on her jaw. Pressure had her lifting her face and blinking up at the soft blue eyes of Cayan. His high cheekbones and straight nose lent a beauty to his features that was made more masculine by his strong jaw and the small cleft in his chin.

She had one second to marvel at how much more handsome he was than Tomous when his shapely lips came down and connected with hers. Her eyes drifted closed as he opened her mouth with his. His tongue flicked and played before he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

What started light and engaging turned deep and passionate. Her heart hammered and butterflies swarmed her belly. Fear lurked two steps behind, though. The feelings he called up—deep and consuming—reminded her of all she’d lost. Of how much more she had to lose.

And the guilt…

Shanti put her hand to Cayan’s chest and pushed. He resisted for one moment, before relenting. He broke their kiss with a lingering parting of lips before stepping back. His pupils were dilated and eyes so deep they reached right down into that place where she’d found all his pain. The place he didn’t admit entry to anyone, save her.

“Sorry,” she said, tearing her gaze away from his. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Which?” he asked as a smile tickled his lips. “Rake me with pain, learn all my secrets, unlock a power I have no hope of controlling, or running your hands all over my body?”

“All but the first, if you’re keeping tabs.” She scowled at him. “But you started it with the mental sex stuff. You practically waved me in.”

“No, I was hoping to get waved in.” His eyes glimmered with desire.

She turned toward Rohnan, who was staring at her with a white face and mouth hanging open.

“What?” she asked.

Rohnan looked back and forth between Cayan and her. “He is… The amount of power…” Rohnan shook his head. “That was not foretold. He was not foretold. Have we taken a fork in journey, Chosen? The wrong fork…?”

“I’m sick of all this foretelling, and these titles, and having no idea what is expected of me.” Shanti turned to Cayan in frustration. “Let’s spar. Use your
Gift
if you still have it. Otherwise, prepare for pain.”

Cayan’s laugh was a rich baritone. “I’m the one with all the power, pretty little lady. You’re okay, for a girl.”

Shanti’s eyebrows fell as she charged. Her mind
stabbed
and
wrenched
his. She kicked his upper thigh and stepped in for a punch but he blocked and stepped to the side. He delivered his own punch, hitting her side. She caught his wrist with one hand, grabbed his forearm, and pulled. He was so strong and heavy though, and barely stepped forward. She spun into him anyway, taking advantage of his imbalance. She hammered an elbow into his sternum, slapped down at his balls, and then gave him a sound uppercut when he flinched.

He staggered that time.

She maintained the mental assault as she started chasing him around the clearing. Then he triggered his own
Gift
, though this was no more than the portion he normally used.

It was more than enough.

Thick waves of power pounded into Shanti, shaking her bones, delivered with a rueful smile. Her instincts said to slam her shields home and curl into the fetal position to escape. Her instincts were wrong.

Instead, she gritted through the body-shaking pain and started a powerful mental assault of her own. She battered him one moment, and needled him the next, changing how she hit and attacked. Making him apply defense and weakening his outgoing power. He might hold the upper hand with brawn, but she had the sharp, painful finesse.

She could also multitask.

At the same time as she used her mental ability, she kicked and punched, keeping up a constant barrage of physical assault. His power wavered as he fought her off. Then his physical defense weakened as he tried to work with his
Gift
. She caught his shoulder with a flick of her foot, then put all her weight behind a kick to his thigh. His feet swept out from under him. He rolled. When he stopped she was ready with a punch to his face.

He expected it.

He caught her hand in a grip she could never duplicate, and yanked. Her momentum and his encouragement brought her down on top of him.

“I heard you aren’t great at fighting on the ground,” Cayan said through rapid breaths.

He rolled her under him and pinned her with his body. Her head butt hit home this time, splitting his lip. He shifted up and held her hands by her wrists. She bucked with her hips, but couldn’t make use of his slight jolt forward. He pinned her thighs by bending his legs and putting his ankles above her knees. His groin pressed into her lower waist and his big chest lay over her small upper body.

She twisted, trying to create some space between them to maneuver in, but to no avail. She ripped her hands one way, and then the other. They moved less than an inch. Her legs were useless. That only left her head.

She relaxed. “I give up.”

He bent enough so he could see her face. Those dimples really made him more attractive, but often she absolutely hated when they appeared. Now was one of those times.

He bent to her ear and said, “I win.”

She turned her face quickly, and bit into the side of his neck. If it was good enough for her horse, it was good enough for her. She clamped down until she tasted blood. He started to squirm, pushing his face down into her.

“Okay, okay, truce,” he said urgently.

“Get off,” she said through skin.

His legs came away from hers. His hands released her. He started to roll to the side, squishing her. She released his neck and prepared for more battle, but he just finished his roll and slapped his hand to his neck. “Ouch.”

Shanti grabbed her boobs. “I agree. I don’t have much, but you flattened what I do have.”

“You can work with me on my
Gift
, but I’m going to work with you on your wrestling. You’re terrible at it.”

“If I’m on the ground, I’ve done something very wrong,” Shanti replied.

Cayan’s humor fell from his face. The sparkle left his eyes, replaced by fear and concern. “They want to breed you, Shanti. Getting you on the ground will initiate that. You will not kill yourself if you get taken—you will wait for me to come and get you. In the meantime, you will need to be able to get yourself out from under someone bigger.”

“Is that right…?” Shanti said in a deathly quiet voice. “That’s mighty presumptuous.”

Cayan sat up. Blood dripped down his neck. “Yes. This is non-negotiable. I will protect you if the worst comes to pass, even from yourself, just as I have done since you were carried into my city. I will not lose you, Shanti—you should know that by now. Since they will not kill you, that allows me time. Xandre might be a battle lord, but he is only a man. If he harms you, he will be a dead man.”

“Poetic.” Shanti wiped her face from sweat and stood. “But you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s not just a man, Cayan, he has elevated himself into a nightmare. One I can’t seem to wake up from. I will not let myself be raped and tortured so you can try to play the hero.”

“I will get my way,” Cayan said easily as he stood. “In all things, I
will
get my way.”

“Another fat lip, is what you’ll get.” Shanti turned toward Rohnan, and then stopped when she realized the edges of the clearing were filled with people. They stared at both of them with wide eyes and open mouths.

“They probably felt Cayan’s power, first,” Rohnan said, watching them with humor-filled eyes. “And they
surely
felt you two fighting with your power. You are not as careful as usual, Chosen. He flusters you.”

“He’s stronger than me, faster, has a longer reach, and has power greater than mine that is hard to defend against. Yes, I get flustered. Would you like me to show you how it feels?”

Rohnan stood, laughing. “Not really. Your love-bite look like it hurts.”

“Burson wants to speak to us tonight before bed. He has some answers—or so he says. So maybe if you’re not too busy
getting your way
, you can make that engagement,” Shanti said.

“Careful, you sound petulant, Chosen,”
Rohnan said with a smirk.

“I noticed you didn’t mention that I also have greater skill in fighting than you,” Cayan said. His clear, blue eyes were sparkling again. “Or did your resorting to biting adequately portray that fact…”

Shanti’s fists balled. She wanted to throw something at his head so badly it made her dizzy. She turned and noticed Sanders leaning against a tree. “Sanders—does biting mean I lose?” she asked.

“Not at all, Shoo-lan,” Sanders answered immediately. “It means you are resourceful in your victory.”

As Shanti threaded her way through the gawking people, she heard Sanders say, “Sorry, sir, but I would’ve done the same thing.”

There was no way the real Chosen had to take this much flak. No way. Burson had better have some bloody good answers for her. There was no way this journey was worth Cayan’s crap otherwise.

A
s dusk settled
into the woods Cayan found himself sitting around a small fire across from Shanti and Burson. Rohnan sat away from the flame, seemingly content to listen but not participate. After their sparring match, Shanti had spent the afternoon among the people of the village in the trees, listening to stories and just talking. There wasn’t a single person in the settlement that didn’t have a horrible tale of why they had ended up there. It was both sad to hear and a warning. If they didn’t stop the Graygual, there would be many more stories, and fewer places to hide.

Rohnan had shadowed Shanti’s every step, often cutting her off mid-sentence to say some poignant thing to the people they spoke with. Rohnan had a strange
Gift
, and a soft-handed way of working with it. He didn’t seem like a warrior at all. Sure he might be excellent with his staff, with knives and bows, but fighting didn’t come naturally to him. Neither did killing. Cayan felt Rohnan’s joy every time he worked with Marc, going around the village trying to cure ailments and soothe aching joints.

The man was in the wrong line of work, but he would never pull himself away from Shanti. Not ever. Shanti’s duty was Rohnan’s, Cayan could see it. It was clear that she trusted and depended on his guidance. They were in this together.

What made Cayan laugh was her subtle transformation around Rohnan. She acted like a child or teenager at times. Like she’d gotten back a part of her past she thought had been lost and wanted to stay there. When Rohnan was around, her jokes were lighter and her mood was softer. She even acted more feminine. Or maybe, with someone to guard her back, she allowed herself to be who she really was. She’d once said that her people were much more sexual than his, and much more open about it, and now he saw the truth of that—her movements were more languid. Her hips swayed. She laughed deeper and took on a sensuous grace he could not tear his eyes away from.

“Are you listening?” Shanti asked in a warning tone. Her glare speared him from across the fire.

He tried to stifle a smile. “Of course.”

She was still angry from earlier, but her desire to kill herself if taken was shortsighted—she had to see that. That was the reason she killed her people who were not strong enough to do it themselves after they’d been taken. Fear made her want to shut down, but with a strong force behind her, and the assurance she would not be killed, time would be enough to take her back. Cayan would demand the same of any of his men—he left no one behind. He would not treat her any differently.

If the worst happened, Sanders would most likely insist on being the one to physically save her. He wanted to even the score with his own rescues.

“Do you need a kick in the head?” she seethed across the leaping flame. The dancing light played across her dainty features and highlighted those large, wide-set eyes. She was such a beauty. An exotic, visually arresting beauty, as that Graygual had said all those months ago.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned to find Rohnan bending beside him. “She is about to turn violent, Captain. You had best think those thoughts later. She would not appreciate them now.”

Cayan couldn’t help a startled laugh. “She’s right, your
Gift
is unsettling.”

Humor danced in Rohnan’s eyes. “I love how much she hates it.”

“Oh good, team up why don’t you. I look forward to the witty banter that can only come of your friendship. Can we get to it, hmm? Burson is only lucid some of the time.” Shanti stared at her brother.

“I am lucid all the time,” Burson replied as he folded his hands in his lap. His smile beamed. “You just like to cast some of my knowledge into the flames of madness.”

“I’d love to cast you into the flames, yes.” Shanti braced her elbows on her knees.

“You are being petulant again, Chosen,” Rohnan said in a low voice. The taunting was evident, playing on her bad mood.

Shanti hunched, ignoring him.

Not bothering to hide his smile, Cayan looked up at Burson who said, “Yes, exciting things are in progress. So, where to begin?”

He looked at the dark sky before saying, “I think the first step to understanding our enemy is to understand how the Old Blood works. Just as there are different elements that create a person, there are different elements that make up the fabric of the Old Blood. Simply having the Old Blood is not enough to create someone such as yourself, Shanti. Or you, Cayan. It is, however, enough to pass down levels of power. You two are at the top of the power scale, as is this Inkna calling himself Chosen. But within that level of power, there are minute differences within each strand of your heritage. Cayan’s power has raw force unlike any I have ever heard of. His blasts can bring a person to his knees. It is a low-level thrust of power and bluntly aims to demolish. His sub-level power, like we witnessed today, is much more powerful than Shanti’s. I am guessing it takes sheer will just to contain it.”

Burson put his finger into the air and waggled it back and forth. “Ah, but… Is he really the more potent? He cannot easily fight and use his
Gift
at the same time. He cannot use finesse. He has little direction and less control. This is not a failing, Cayan; do not let your face fall. I do not believe your power was made to be used alone.

“That is where young Shanti comes into play. She can weave her power in ways that cannot be learned. She understands the dynamics of her
Gift
, the very essence of it, and she can harness that to overcome someone with the same strength of power as herself. Had you two been on opposing sides, it would be a spectacular battle indeed. Who would win? Who would die? Or would it be a stalemate?”

“Except, we aren’t on opposing sides,” Shanti said with a fleeting glance at Cayan. “What about this powerfully-
Gifted
Inkna; have you heard any specifics about him?”

“Yes, the Inkna. The catalyst. Oh how tricky is that Xandre, hmm?” Burson smiled upwards. “He is trying to flush out the violet-eyed girl.”

Rohnan leaned forward as he stared at Shanti. “It is trap, then. Why hadn’t we thought of that?”

“This Inkna has a full dose of power, and he will try to get through the trials. Who’s to say how the trials are setup. Power might be enough. We can’t take that chance, regardless of what waits for us on the other side.”

“His power will be enough to allow him to enter the trials,” Burson said with a grave voice. “The trials were designed to measure power first. It is so rare to find someone with a full dose. Someone who recognizes their power
and
is trained accordingly. So rare. Only a handful in the whole of the land. Cayan would never have known his true potential had not Shanti realized it. He would’ve been overrun with Graygual, and died, without realizing he had so much more to fight with.”

A chill went up Cayan’s back. Burson was absolutely correct. Before Shanti, and before fighting the Inkna, he would’ve been irked at a comment like that. His men were tough and skilled. His army was organized. His allies were plenty. But he saw that wasn’t enough. Not against mental warfare and the army Xandre had constructed.

Cayan blew out a breath at the gravity of the situation. He looked across the shimmering air at Shanti. Her gaze set on the base of the flame. She was shielding herself, so he couldn’t read her emotions, but fear and uncertainty showed on her face. They had to intercept this Inkna, just in case his power was enough to gain the support of the Shadow People. Even if they succeeded, they’d still have the most powerful man in the land waiting for them.

This was a fool’s journey. But what choice did they have?

“Xandre is not one to play by any rules,” Burson said. “He has sent many through the trials, and had plenty of time to analyze those areas in which the accompanying party waits. The Shadow People will follow his rule, or will be annihilated. What a boon it would be to capture you at the same time.”

“But I thought you said only those with a full dose of power can enter the trials?” Shanti asked with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, of course. But the trials begin after the Chosen declares him or herself. He declares, he steps through, and he never comes out. It is said that power is measured first, but beyond that, we have no way of knowing.”

“And if the declared doesn’t step through?” Rohnan asked.

“He is killed, of course. Not stepping through after a declaration is against the rules.”

“So there will be two battles—one within the trials, and one by the supporters on the outside,” Cayan said quietly.

Burson had said something to that effect before, but Cayan hadn’t had a clear picture. There would be much killing on the sly. Poison now made perfect sense.

“This is not anything we had not already guessed,” Rohnan murmured.

“We’re missing a feast,” Shanti said. Sorrow haunted her features. “I helped kill the animals, I’d really love to attend. If we could wrap this up…?”

“We have not discussed our opponent’s weaknesses, yet.” Burson smiled again. “Have you not wondered why the Inkna do not fight unless they have to?”

Cayan leaned forward. He had. He’d wondered often. They would be so much more of a threat if they used more than just their power in battles. Cayan expected someone like this Being Supreme, this hyper-intelligent dictator, to realize this. The fact that he hadn’t made Cayan anxious. It hinted at knowledge Cayan didn’t possess.

“Now we get to the other strands of the Old Blood,” Burson said. He rubbed his hands together with a smile. “One of the things I studied intensely was lineage. It can be quite fascinating when you trace family lines, and traits, back generations. Xandre is constantly looking for powerful individuals. Always looking. Hunting. Mental power will be the key to a battle’s victory, all other things being equal.”

“Things are rarely equal,” Shanti countered.

“Correct.” Burson ticked the sky with his pointer finger. “But it starts with you.”

Shanti’s brows pulled down into a frown.

Burson continued, “Where did this high-powered Inkna come from? How long was he trained, and by whom? Whatever the answer to these questions, it will not equal the length at which Shanti has worked. Or Rohnan. Or any of your people. Nor will it be under the same threat of annihilation.”

“Xandre trains with pain, though,” Rohnan said softly. “He creates pressure with all his advanced forces.”

Burson ticked the sky again. “Creates the pressure, yes. But where is the sense of duty to each other, the backbone to survive as a people?” Burson smiled. “Absent. They survive the pain, but only for themselves, not for each other. They have no loyalty to those who fight by their side. They have no bond. So they are lacking in that way. They were not brought up steeped in a rich tradition that was preserved in a tiny niche of the land, passed down for generations. They were forced into the training, hurt in the training, toughened by the training, but not nurtured.
That
creates a brittle, imbalanced warrior. Shanti is the myth reincarnate, but not because of her power—because of the environment that harvested that power.”

“They have more second-class warriors than we do,” Cayan said. “Many more. They might not be as good, but with supply in plenty, they are still more powerful as a whole.”

Burson threaded his hands together. His smile did not diminish, though Cayan had no idea what could possibly be pleasing about this conversation. The situation was dismal.

“Yes and no,” Burson continued. “Xandre can find other full-powered individuals in the
Gift
. And be sure that he is looking for them. He will find them, and train them, but he cannot create an environment such as Shanti came from. He has tried, I know this firsthand. I have passed through the tiny settlement he uses for his best. But it is not the same. It is not creating the same warrior he seeks. The best. The myth. And Xandre must have the best. He is bent on it.”

Cayan’s suspicion rose. “How do you know him so well?”

Shanti’s eyes drifted toward Burson, awaiting the answer.

Burson smiled at Cayan. “Because like Rohnan, I allowed myself to be captured. I needed to see the enemy, firsthand. That is the only way one is to learn. Of course, I only got a few glimpses of the great man himself. He keeps his own company apart from his guards, which are around always. He came and he went, but you can tell a lot about a person by his movements, the environment he creates, and the men he puts in charge. Oh yes, quite a lot.”

“Okay, he always wants the best,” Shanti pushed. “So he thinks he needs me.”

“Correct,” Burson stated. “He can’t duplicate it, so he needs the product of it. He needs the master. He needs your experience, and your cultural conditioning. He needs you to breed, and train your children how you were trained. That is the only way to get more of his perfect warrior. Shanti, you are his version of the perfect specimen, hinted at when you beat his men the first time at age five, and cemented when you thwarted his rule a year ago. You are the elusive gem he covets. He will not have won until he not only has his empire, but you within it.”

“I didn’t think you could put me in a worse mood, Burson. You have proved me wrong.” She gave Cayan that leveling look: equal parts confidence, intelligence, defiance, and vulnerability. He felt his insides heat and melt within that gaze.

“I’m sorry for returning to you,” she said seriously. Her voice was sultry and soft, dripping with remorse. “I think you would’ve been safer waiting to see if I made it through.”

“Don’t—” Cayan wanted to lean through the fire and quell the hopelessness swimming in her eyes. He settled for pushing against her shield. When she didn’t relent, he summoned more power and
punched
.

“Ow.”

Only she could pull off the glassy-eyed scowl that made his muscles tense for a vicious fight, while still looking helpless and forlorn. She dropped her shield, though, and let him soothe her mind with his own. Their power entwined. A pleasant hum fizzled in his stomach.

“I knew what I was getting into,” he said softly. “Together we have twice the power—or more, if I can figure out how to work with what you found today. We have a better chance together than apart.”