Rogue's Passion (23 page)

When it began to wind down, Olivia spoke again. “I’m safe now.”
 

“Promise?” her mom said, sniffling. “You’re not just saying that to keep me from worrying, are you?”

You’re already worried.
   

“I promise, Mom. I’ll be fine.” She hoped to God she was right.
 

Chapter Twenty-One

It was late afternoon when Asher turned the bike onto a seldom used logging road and wound up the mountainside. The rendezvous point was a mile from the second hairpin turn, then down a trail through the woods. His street-legal dirt bike maneuvered the rough path as if it were pavement, jumping a few rotted stumps in the way and tightly hugging the corners. When an abandoned hunting cabin appeared around the corner, Asher braked hard and cut the engine.

Before coming here, he’d gone to New Seattle and driven down every street and alley that wasn’t blocked off, taking care to avoid the roadblocks. He needed to find the Fixer, but with the Apocalypse Tonight Club gone, he didn’t know where to begin looking. He’d even walked the same route he and Toryn had taken when they’d tailed that squirrely sonofabitch named Eddie. Not that he really thought he’d discover anything that would lead him to the Fixer, but he needed to do something, and it was the only action he could think of.

Neyla, Rickert’s fiancée, appeared in the doorway wearing a pair of leather breeches, thick-soled boots, and a camouflage jacket. She’d been in the army, so she had combat training, but she was also a Protection-Talent, which gave her the ability to put a ring of impenetrability around a group of people. Since she was carrying a serious-looking dagger, she must be the one on watch duty.
 

Toryn and Konal emerged from the trees a few moments later. He glanced around for Rickert but didn’t see him. He wasn’t looking forward to the ass-chewing he’d get when he told the guy about his unauthorized mission to New Seattle to find Fallon’s killer. But maybe Toryn had already told him.
 

He acknowledged the two Iron Guild warriors, then dismounted and removed his helmet and gloves. A thick clump of nettle with its jagged-edged leaves and tiny white flowers blocked his approach to the cabin. Even though he wore heavy riding gear, he sidestepped it. Growing up on the other side of the portal where warriors usually wore kilts, he’d learned to avoid the stinging plant altogether.
 

“Good to see you, man.” Toryn gave him a hearty clap on the back and fell in step with him up to the front porch. With a string of fish slung over one shoulder, he wore jeans and one of those quilted flannel shirts that doubled as a coat.

“Yeah, you too.”

Konal circled the bike, giving a low whistle. Like Toryn, he was now sporting a short beard he hadn’t had the last time Asher saw him. “What a sweet fuckin’ ride. Is it yours?”
 

“Technically, a friend and I own it together. It was a piece of shit when he bought it. I rebuilt the engine and fixed it up.” The only problem was that he couldn’t bring Conry along, so he hadn’t ridden it much. The dog had really taken to Olivia, so he didn’t feel too guilty leaving him behind this time.

“Niiiice.” Konal’s hands were all over the bike, touching everything. He was about to tell him to keep his meaty paws off. That he didn’t want anything fucked up or— “Shit!” Konal hissed, jerking his hand back from one of the hot exhaust pipes.
 

 
Asher and Toryn both laughed. Served him right.
 

“You can look,” Asher said, “but don’t touch. It’s much safer.”
 

“Ah, go fuck yourselves,” Konal grumbled, blowing on his burned fingers.
 

Toryn pretended to give Asher the once-over. “Sorry, but he’s not really my type.” Then, in falsetto, he added, “Look at him. He’s just too big and muscle-y.”
 

Asher gave him a shove. “Shut it.”

Toryn didn’t. “Don’t be so modest. You’re too much of a stud muffin for me with all those muscles and shit.”

Konal erupted in fits of laughter.
 

“Are you through?” Neyla said curtly, clearly not amused by their banter. “We weren’t expecting any of you so soon.”
 

When Asher had first met her, he wasn’t exactly her number one fan, and he’d said some pretty shitty things about her to Rickert. He didn’t blame her for not warming up to him. But his opinion of her had quickly changed. If it hadn’t been for Neyla, the army would’ve destroyed the village of Crestenfahl, killed many of their people, and taken the infants they’d found back through the portal.
 

 
“Decided to come early,” he replied. “Took a chance that you and Rickert came through the portal already.”

“You lucked out, then.”

Truth was, he needed to get away and clear his head. He needed to put the brakes on whatever was happening between Olivia and him, before it was too late.

“Were you anywhere near the explosion in New Seattle?” Toryn asked. “That was the same club where you were going to track down the Fixer, right?”

“Ha. I was there when it happened. Never did find the Fixer but I did see the bastard who set the bomb, although I didn’t know that’s what he was doing at the time. Definitely looked military to me.”
 

Neyla scowled. “The Fixer?”

“That’s what they call him,” Asher said. “The guy responsible for Fallon’s death. Is Rickert around? That way, I can tell you all what I know.”

“He’s inside, but isn’t feeling too well.” Without explaining any further, Neyla removed a dagger from beneath her coat and held it out to him. He took the weapon and turned it over in his hands. It was perfectly balanced, with an intricate floral pattern carved into the handle. Not too heavy either, which made it ideal for a woman like Neyla to wield against a would-be attacker.
 

“Is this what I think it is?”

She nodded. “Cold-forged Balkirk steel. Rickert had the knife made for me and insisted on bringing it through the portal. As you can imagine, he’s been miserable with iron sickness ever since he crossed through with it.”
 

Asher grimaced. He didn’t need to imagine. He knew what that felt like. But he didn’t blame the guy. He’d have done the same thing.
 

“I tried to talk him out of it,” she said, “but he insisted. We knew he’d be sick for a while, so we left well before the rendezvous date to give him time to recover. Just to warn you, he’s in a foul mood.”
 

“Believe it, Ash,” Toryn said. “She’s not kidding.”

The interior of the cabin was sparse but clean. A small kitchen area with a counter and sink occupied one corner and two bedrolls were spread out on the floor. Wrapped in a blanket, Rickert was slumped against the wall, eyes closed, face twisted in pain.
 

He looked up with an expression that reminded Asher of a wounded bear—somewhat incapacitated but still extremely dangerous. “What are ye doing here?”

“You look like shit.”

“Aye. I’ve been better.”

Boot steps sounded behind him as Toryn and Konal entered the cabin too.

“Bloody hell,” Rickert snapped. “Can’t a man be sick in peace? The rendezvous…not till next week. Why are ye all so damned early?”

Toryn cleared his throat. “Since the explosion, New Seattle has been crawling with army patrols, making it hard to go unnoticed.”

“I had to show my fake papers twice,” Konal piped in.
 

Toryn set the three sockeye salmon on the counter. “There wasn’t enough time to go through the portal and come back, so we decided to come now. Figured we could get in some hunting and fishing while we wait for the others to arrive.”

“The rest of the men…are back in Cascadia,” Rickert grumbled. “So it’s just the five of us anyway.” He turned to Asher. “I’m glad ye came early. We have things…that need to be discussed.”

Asher was going to tell him about the explosion as well as Olivia and her brother, but that would have to wait.
 

Rickert turned to the others. “Mind giving us a little privacy?”

“Sure,” Toryn said.
 

Neyla rose and the three of them headed for the door.
 

“Can she stay?” Asher asked. “I need to talk to her about something when we’re done.”

“I don’t mind,” Rickert replied. “Neyla?”

She walked back to Rickert and stood with her arms crossed over her chest.
 

Rickert waited until Toryn and Konal were gone, then looked at Asher. “The
taghta
magistrates want you…to head things up over here for a while.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I’m banished, remember?”

“But you and Neyla got the okay to set up a safe house over here. Did that get changed?”

“No, we’re still doing that, but I’ve temporarily…lost my Iron Guild command.” Every word he uttered seemed to be a struggle. “You’re my second. They want you to take my place. You’re to appear before them at their next meeting, where they’ll officially appoint you.”

“Can’t you appoint me? You’ve done it before.” Even though he’d told Olivia he needed to go back, he’d lied. He planned to stay here. Just not with her.
 

“I lost my command. It’s not mine to give.”

Asher paced around the tiny space. “When and where is this meeting?”
 

“Up at Red Mountain the day after the next full moon.”

His Iron Guild induction ceremony had taken place there, so he knew it well. “And what if I don’t want the job?”

Rickert shrugged, then immediately regretted the movement as his face twisted in pain. “Then they’ll have to give it to someone else, I guess.”

Asher thought about being responsible for the other men over here. The last time he was put in charge, Fallon died. He didn’t want that weight on his shoulders again. He was a lone wolf. Always had been. Leadership was not something he was interested in. Besides, a good leader should at least be able to read and count under pressure.

“Toryn or Konal could step in, but you’re…the most qualified. My punishment is for six months. Then…I go before the
taghta
…to see about getting…my command back.”

“What’s the scope of the upcoming missions? More raids on army bases? Heading off enemy troop movement into the mountains?”

“They appear to be regrouping,” Rickert said, pausing to take a few deep breaths. “We need to scan the area for other portal entrances on this side. The old monks…predict another will…open soon. Need to find it before the Pacificans do, so it stays hidden.”

“Speaking of portal entrances,” Asher said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw, “that’s partly why I needed to talk to you.”

He told Rickert and Neyla about Olivia, her brother, and the drawings of Asher’s sister. He kept things as straightforward and unemotional as possible, but it wasn’t easy. His heart raced as he talked about Olivia. He missed her. Desperately. Like an aching hunger that needed to be fed. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, tell her he was sorry he’d left without an explanation, and bury himself inside her again. In the short time they’d been together, she’d become his anchor, his rock, giving him the ability to sort through the constant jumble in his head and think more clearly. As he spoke, he tried to stay on track, but talking nonchalantly about her and pretending to feel nothing was next to impossible.
 

“If it truly is my sister Zara in those pictures, she must’ve found a portal after I left home and that’s how she met Vince, Olivia’s twin brother.”

“Holy Fates, Asher,” Rickert said, rubbing his forehead. “An uncharted portal? Where’s home? We need to have your sister show us.”

“We grew up in Vallenberg, my stepfather’s village, but she’s gone now.”

“That’s a four- or five-day ride north of Crestenfahl.”

“Three on a fast horse,” Asher said. And now that the Crestenfahl portal was gone, the journey would take even longer from one of the other secret portals.
 

Rickert exhaled slowly and tried to get up. “Bloody hell. This iron sickness shit is for the birds.” He grimaced and slumped down again. “She needs…to show us…the exact location.”

He paced around the room, a twinge of guilt spearing his gut as he thought about his sister. “I haven’t seen Zara in years. I don’t know where she is.”
 

Rickert cursed. Asher glanced over but couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain or the news about his sister.

“Where did Olivia’s family live?” Neyla asked. “Since we’re already here, maybe we can begin our search on this side.”
 

“Granite Falls,” he said.
 

She gave a knowing nod.
 

“You’ve heard of it?” Asher stopped pacing.
 

“It’s a picturesque little town in the foothills of Mount Pilchuck, about an hour northeast of New Seattle. They host an herb festival every year.”

He remembered what Olivia had told him about her mother’s herbal remedies.