Perfect Misfits (5 page)

“It’s nothing new, Tempest. It’s called fire. Move closer, let it warm you.”

She licked her dry lips, and he saw her fear turn to desperation. How she managed to live here was beyond his imagination.

He lifted his hand and pointed to another large glass of water now placed on the ground.

“It’s not poison,” he responded, rolling his eyes.

Like a starved animal, she lunged over the straw bed and clutched the glass. Half of the water spilt, running down the front of her chest. Ryder’s mind filled with forbidden thoughts, but they diminished with the realization of how badly she had been treated. He closed his fist against the rage bubbling inside him. While he didn’t have much use for women, he had never treated them with disrespect.

He closed his eye and directed the fire to do his bidding. Sparks grew in multitude until the fire became a blur of bright red. He smirked as Tempest scurried back away from the fire. She grabbed hold of Rogue’s stone body in desperation, trying to pull him away from the bright light.

In less than half-a-minute, the fire receded to its normal state, leaving a large black pot. Her eyes grew larger than saucers, and her nose followed the aroma floating in the air. Her stomach growled so loudly that he burst out with a laugh. Flushed pink cheeks showed her embarrassment. Starved and desperate, her eyes betrayed what he knew she would feel on the inside. The basic instinct for survival kicked in.

He stepped toward the simmering pot of stew, conjured three bowls, and filled them, and then approached her with the food in hand. A trapped animal…that’s what she reminded him of.

“Eat slowly, or your efforts may end up on the ground. I probably don’t need to tell you that.” He extended the warm bowl toward her, which she snatched away from his hand, careful not to touch him. She stared confused by the spoon. Her fingers dug in first eating the large pieces then tipping the bowl to her mouth she gulped down the remaining liquid.

Wow. How long has she been stuck on this mountain?

The poor beast will be starved, as well.

With a wave of Ryder’s hand, Rogue became flesh and lunged into the air, jaws snapping. Stunned, the gargdog spun around and the confusion left his face when he saw Tempest. A happy grin lit the gargdog’s face, and turned to deep hunger the moment he saw her eating. He lifted his head straight up and sniffed, until finally, his eyes came to rest on the pot.

Ryder knew he’d better give the animal a bowl soon, or the whole pot would be scattered all over the cave.

“Here, Rogue.”

The gargdog didn’t need encouragement. In one mighty pounce, he straddled the bowl with his front legs and lapped feverously.

Tempest looked down at her empty bowl and then over to the pot. He speculated on her thoughts. “There’s plenty, I promise. You can have more, once your stomach has had a chance to digest it.”

“Thank you.” She shivered.

“Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bed and let the fire warm you.”

Inch by inch, she wearily drew nearer to the fire and sat, as he’d instructed.

Her actions amused him. She extended one hand closer to the flames, and then yanked it back. “I don’t…remember…
fire
,” she chattered between shivers.

“Well, there isn’t much use for it. You probably wouldn’t remember it.”

Tempest cleared her throat and unleashed a fury of questions. “Why are you being so nice? What do you want, and how did you find me?”

Ryder ran a hand through his hair unsure how to answer her questions.

“Well, for starters, I’m not being nice, and secondly, I have no real idea how I ended up here or why. I figured I couldn’t have you starve to death, or I’d never figure how to get off this froze shit pile of ice.”

“Oh.” She blinked.

“I’ve been dreaming about this place…and you. I knew you were going to die, and I couldn’t allow that.”

Tempest reached behind her, and pulled one of the furs up and over her shoulders. “How could you be dreaming about me? I don’t
think
we have ever met.”

“Exactly.”

“May I ask you a question about something I saw in my vision?”

He tensed. “You can ask, but I might not answer, and it had better have nothing to do with our bargain.”

She turned her head from side to side and bit her bottom lip. “I saw a mark on your right hand…or, I guess that would have been paw. May I look at it?”

She knew way too much about him. He certainly wasn’t comfortable showing her anything personal.

“Why?”

Tempest looked at the ground. “I’ve seen something like it.”

Ryder walked over to where she sat. He held out his right hand, baring the protruding crescent-shaped scar with the two individual marks inside the figure.

She inched ever so close to his hand, stretching her neck out as far as possible. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “It can’t be. I…I don’t understand.”

He yanked his hand away. “Where have you seen something like that before?” he ground out.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching for an answer. “I have one just like it,” she whispered.

Ryder stepped back tripping over Rogue. “Do you always have to be in the way?” he bellowed.

“Rogue, come here,” she commanded.

Rogue’s scampered across the dirt to her side.

“Show me, Tempest.” It was not a request.

The shocked look on her face spoke volumes. She was appalled. “I don’t think so!”

“You started this conversation, and I showed you mine. It’s your turn.” He grinned.

“Yeah, well yours is not on your breast, now, is it,” she shrieked in defense.

“I don’t care where it is, Princess. Show it.”

“I will not.” Tempest clutched the front of the cloak tight to her neck, and Rogue growled.

His tone became deadly serious. “I’m not kidding. We can do this the easy way, or I can freeze you both in place and look for myself.” He looked down at the gargdog, and then back up to her.

“You. You…wouldn’t. You promised me no harm would come to us.”

“I’m not going to harm you, I just want to see your…urr…you know…mark.”

She sucked in a big gulp of air. Expressions of anger, disgust, and nervousness washed over her face. “I knew I couldn’t trust you!” she shouted. “You should have just left me alone. I didn’t need your help in the first place.” Her nostrils flared as she let go of the cloak and pulled her waist-length white hair over her shoulders. She reached up yanking the neckline down to the left as far as possible, exposing her creamy white flesh and the odd mark.

Gods be damned, she’s beautiful.
The temptation to reach out and touch her was so strong. His groin tightened in response to her loveliness, and he almost forgot about the mark.

He cleared his throat and stepped even closer. “If I’d left you alone, you’d be dead right now.”

Her eyes narrowed and her brows came together in a scowl. “I’d rather be dead than have you touch me.”

“I doubt that.” He stepped closer to examine the scar. Hers seemed to be imbedded into her skin, while his protruded, but the shape was identical, right down to the two unusual marks within the crescent.

Ryder felt compelled to reach out and touch her, but as quickly as the thought formed, she’d snatched the cloaked closed.

“Satisfied?” she hissed.

Ryder cleared his throat. “Not even close.” He let his stare fall from her eyes to her chest.

He stepped back and away from her. Enough time had been spent on this frigid mountain. He needed to leave, but how? Would falling on his head do the trick? He couldn’t very well leave the girl here, so crashing into the ground wouldn’t be an option. He needed more information.

“I need to figure out how to get us out of here.”

Rogue whined after Ryder’s statement, and turned his head from side to side.

“If you behave yourself you can come, too, but right now, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“You could try falling on your head again,” she stated with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“I’m sure you’d like to see that, but when I leave, you’re coming with me, and a crash into the ground would break every lovely bone in your body.”

She swallowed. “Maybe, not a good idea.”

“Can you tell me how you got here? How long have you been here? I need you to remember everything you can about that time in your life,” he prodded.

“I don’t remember much about my time in Levare. I was young when they took me.”

She stared grim faced into the fire.

“Who took you? Where were your parents?”

“I don’t remember them. I just remember thinking they were my parents. Apparently, I didn’t turn out as planned, and I was sent here.”

Ryder gawked in disbelief. She had to be mistaken. He couldn’t imagine somebody giving away their child. How had the secret remained hidden? And more importantly, who was the mastermind behind it all?

“You said
she
brought you here, do you remember her name?”

“I think it might have started with the letter “A”, and she might be my mother.”

His heart skipped a beat, and then began racing. Could it have been Astral? The old witch knew way too many things. She also went a bit crazy about twenty years ago. He remembered he’d just sent Ashton to see her.

She’ll pay dearly if anything happens to him. Astral may not be as crazy as she seems. What has she done, and how many more Misfits like Tempest exist?

Now, more than ever, he needed to get back to Levare so he could throttle the answers out of her. He smiled thinking of the gratification he would feel with his hands wrapped around her neck.

“Why are you smiling?” Tempest asked, breaking his thoughts. “There is nothing funny about what I’ve just told you.”

No truer words could have ever been spoken. “How right you are.” He began pacing back and forth through the small cave. “I’ll leave in the morning and try to find a way back to the city.”

Tempest jumped to her feet with clenched fists. “No…I mean…don’t leave.” She marched around to the opposite side of the fire, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Please, don’t leave us here. Take us with you.”

The desperation in her voice gnawed at him. “I’m not leaving for good. I just need to find a way back; then I’ll come for you.”

She shook her head violently, and a tear slid down her cheek. “I’ve heard that before. I beg you, don’t leave us. We won’t be in the way, I promise. We’ll do whatever you ask. Won’t we, Rogue?”

The dog nodded his large head in response.

Ryder turned away from her and stormed out into the blowing snow. He’d rather brave the storm than hear her beg. Through the howling wind, he heard her stifled sob. He stopped in his tracks, reflecting on the first time he saw her faceless figure in the snow pleading for help, and shouted up in the sky, his words silenced by the blizzard. “What the fuck did I do to deserve this?”

He strode back into the cave. “Enough! I can’t stand the tears. And just so we’re clear, I have no idea where we are heading tomorrow or if we can leave this fucking mountain. I’m not responsible for your lives; is that understood?”

A smile formed on her face as she nodded.

He’d had just about all he could take for one day, and there was no tower to perch on and the thought of standing in the snow didn’t appeal to him. He’d have to sleep inside. With a wave of his hand, another straw bed appeared on the far side of the cave.

Tomorrow can’t be any worse, can it?

“Good night.”

· · · · ·

Tempest crawled onto her bed and stared across the fire at the man who slept. His breathing was deep and even. She could not remember a time when she’d slept like that; the Vemlers came for her at night.

She needed to be on guard.

Chapter Six

Drip…Drip…Drip. Water fell in droplets from the ceiling of the cave, landing with a plop into what must be a small puddle off to the side of his makeshift bed. He stayed dead-still for the longest time, mimicking a deep peaceful sleep, an easy feat for a gargoyle. Truth of the matter was that gargoyles seldom slept. A gargoyle’s job was to protect, and to sleep would put everything in danger. The closest Ryder ever came to sleeping would be dreaming. That, he’d done, only to end up dreaming about her—Tempest.

Hours passed, and Ryder listened to her movements. She whispered words of encouragement to Rogue. She hummed a quiet melody, which slowed each time she repeated it. When silence fell on his ears, he thought she’d given in to sleep, but at that moment, he heard her take a sharp breath.

To lie still and unmoving at that moment almost killed him, but finally, her breathing returned to normal, and he could hear her move off the straw. Her footsteps crunched on the ice, and then stopped, and small twigs snapped before she retreated back the way she’d come.

“I have a stick, Rogue. We’ll be okay, now. I’ve always beat them off that way in the past,” she whispered to the gargdog.

Ryder had no idea what she could be so scared of. Nothing would dare interfere with him in this cave; he was sure of it. Too bad she didn’t think the same thing.

Her tiny snores told him she’d finally succumbed to sleep.

He knew what needed to be done, and unfortunately, it couldn’t be done with her or that four-legged menace. A pang of guilt tore through his mind. He’d said they could come, but in actuality, he knew it wouldn’t be possible.

In the dark, he muttered a chant and levitated off the straw without touching the ground. In silence, he moved to the entrance of the cave and out into the night. A safe distance away from the opening, he lowered himself to the deep, snow-covered mountain ledge.

With the coming of the sun, the sky held a hint of orange. Perhaps the snow would stay away.

He looked back over his shoulder to the cave. She had enough wood to last many days; he’d ensure she had food for the same amount of time.

He stepped closer to the ledge and peered down into the valley far below. His large hands slid off the leathers and furs covering his body, letting them fall into the snow. He stood naked, and without a second thought, stepped off the ledge.