The Invisible Ring (19 page)

The moment the wagon stopped, Thera threw the door open and scrambled down the steps, almost falling in her haste.

Wondering why she seemed so tense now that the danger was over—it
was
over, wasn’t it?—Jared reached up to help the Gray Lady dismount.

And found himself reaching for a gray-eyed, dark-haired,
young
witch dressed in the Gray Lady’s clothes.

She frowned at him. and said, “What’s wrong?” at the same moment Thera said, “I’m sorry.”

Fury blinded him. Hell’s fire, he had
hated
witches who hadn’t made him this furious.

Snarling, he clamped his hands around her waist and hauled her out of the saddle. As she fell forward, the Green Jewel hanging from a gold chain around her neck slipped out of the torn coat and tunic. Her gasp of pain and surprise—and the bruises already darkening on her shoulders and chest where she must have struck submerged rocks— stopped him from letting go of her until she had time to grab the gelding’s saddle to keep her balance.

Then he stepped back, not trusting himself not to strike out.

“Who are you?” he said roughly.

“I’m sorry,” Thera said again.

Looking puzzled, the witch’s gray eyes flicked to the men Jared could feel gathering behind him, to the children who had emerged from the wagon, to Thera, and, finally, to him.

She started to raise her hand to brush back her tangled hair, but didn’t complete the gesture. Pulling what was left of her braid over her shoulder, she studied the dark hair, and then muttered, “Hell’s fire.”

“
Who are you
?” Jared roared. He didn’t know which made him more furious: that his mind had been tricked into believing this was the Gray Lady or that his body hadn’t been fooled.

She wobbled a little when the gelding shifted nervously, but she squared her shoulders and raised her chin.

The admiration he felt for the strength and pride he saw in her eyes only fueled his temper, and the wild stranger inside him started howling at him to protect, protect, protect. He tried to push it away by reminding himself that he was a Ringed slave, but instincts that had been bred into Blood males over dozens of generations weren’t easily banished by a Ring or a word.

In a commanding voice, she said, “I am Lady Arabella Ardelia. On the Gray Lady’s behalf, I’m taking you to Dena Nehele.”

Behind him, Brock and Randolf swore quietly.

Jared ground his teeth. Arrogant, stubborn, courageous, feather-brained little fool! Did she really think men like Brock and Randolf would just shrug and continue to obey her unless she used the Ring of Obedience and brutally revived their fear of the kind of pain it inflicted? Especially once they realized she was handicapped right now by more than physical injuries?

He took a step toward her.

“Stay back,”‘ she said, her body tensing.

Jared bared his teeth in a savage smile. “You want me to stay back?
Use
the Ring
.”

Her eyes widened.

Jared held his breath, waiting. She
had
to use the Invisible Ring now. She had to. She’d been able to avoid using it when he’d challenged her a short while ago, but she couldn’t now that he’d challenged her in front of the others. His Jewels outranked hers. He was a danger to her. If she didn’t use the Ring to pull him down, he could smash through her inner barriers and tear her mind apart. Damn her, she
had
to use it to protect herself, to reassert her control over all of them. She
had
to hurt him to prove that she could still brutally control the strongest male among them—and would inflict the same kind of pain on the others if the males didn’t continue to obey her.

Instead, she let go of the saddle and tried to brace herself for a fight.

Swearing, Jared closed the distance between them and scooped her up in his arms. “You don’t need a pleasure slave.” he snarled as he stomped to the wagon, “you need a keeper.”

“I do not—”

“Shut up.”

“Jared,” Thera warned as he brushed past her and the children. “She needs attention and—”

“In a minute.” He shouldered the door open and kicked it closed in Thera’s face. After setting his bundle of wet, bedraggled witch on the bench, he stepped back and leaned against the door, preventing anyone from interrupting them.

One of the shutters behind the driving seat had fallen open during the wild ride. Using Craft, he closed it and created a ball of witchlight, floating it near the bench so he could take a good look at her.

She wasn’t pretty—he'd always associated pretty with delicate—but there was a kind of strength in her face that would ripen into beauty in a few more years—a beauty that was a reflection of the deep inner strength strong Blood males found more arousing than a lush body.

Sadi had once said strength attracted strength, that a strong witch’s psychic scent acted like a catnip on strong Blood males. Even if the attraction wasn’t sexual, they’d still want to touch her, smell her, cuddle up next to her.

It was part of a witch’s power over the males, something that soothed her chosen as well as filling them with possessive savagery.

Standing there, Jared felt the pull of her psychic scent— the same pull that had been luring and confusing him since she'd bought him. Knowing she wasn’t the old woman he’d thought she was, he felt his blood start to simmer with a dangerous hunger.

And flavoring all of it was fury fueled by relief.

Since fighting would help him keep his distance until he had time to think, he lashed out. “You mule-headed little idiot! You had no business jumping into that creek. You could have been killed—or didn’t you think about that?”

“If I hadn’t jumped in, Corry—”

Jared rode right over her. “Cony’s male. Males are expendable.”

Her gray eyes turned almost black with temper.

Remembering how their chess game had ended, he abandoned that line of attack and chose another. “Was this some kind of game?” he demanded. “The little witch decided to masquerade as a grown-up, go to Raej, and buy a few slaves for fun?”

“Not for fun,” she snapped. “For the Gray Lady.”

“For the Gray Lady. Of course. How could I forget? Do you even know her? Or was that the best disguise you could think of?”

“Of course I know her.” She raised her chin and glared at him. “I’m in her First Circle.”

Jared narrowed his green eyes. A young, talented witch
might
serve in a Territory Queen’s First Circle in order to receive special training before ruling a Province or District on that Queen’s behalf. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. If the little witch wanted to play games, he’d play games.

He raked his eyes over her in a way that couldn’t be interpreted as anything but an insult. “I’d guess fifteen. Maybe sixteen.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

She sounded too outraged to be lying.

“And with the Gray Lady’s consent, you went trotting off to Raej, pretending to be a Gray-Jeweled Queen.” He shook his head and tsked. “Not a very sporting thing for a Queen to ask of a young protégée . . . unless, of course, she was trying to eliminate a rival.”

Her eyes glittered with suppressed fury, but her voice became dismissively chilly. “I told you everything you need to know.”

He studied her for a moment. That she’d taken an insult to the Gray Lady personally was a strong indication that she
was
a member of the First Circle

—or at least a member of the court. And, perhaps, telling the truth.

He saw her shiver and leashed his temper. What was wrong with him that he was fighting with her when she needed attention? His father would have skinned him for neglecting his duties for such an indulgence.

Stepping away from the door, Jared reached for her coat. ‘I’ll help you get out of those wet clothes.“

“No,” she said quickly, her hands clutching the front of the coat and tunic, holding them closed. She pressed her back against the storage boxes, her body tensing as he bent over her. “I can manage.”

Jared closed his hand over one of her ice-cold fists and tugged gently.

“You’re cold, exhausted, bruised, and can’t even stand up without falling over. According to all the rules my father thumped into my stubborn head, this is exactly the sort of circumstance when a Queen should put aside her pride and let someone help her.”

He tugged again. Her fist tightened.

He tried dredging up the smile that used to charm Reyna into giving him an extra nutcake.

She stared at him as if he’d grown fangs.

“Hell’s fire, Lady,” Jared growled as he tried to loosen her hands. “This can’t be the first time a man has offered to undress you.”

She said nothing.

All right, he understood her being nervous. They’d been arguing. It was her moontime, and she was vulnerable. Her disguise had failed for some reason, and she didn’t have the Gray Lady’s reputation to hide behind anymore. But, Hell’s fire, you’d think she’d never—

Jared took a good look at her pale, tight face and backed away so fast he yelped when he hit the door. His hand shook as he pointed a finger at her, and said accusingly, “You’re a virgin. Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful,
you’re a virgin
.”

Still clutching the coat, she eyed him warily. “There’s no reason to get hysterical. It’s not contagious.”

Jared raked his fingers through his hair, dizzied by the conflicting emotions spinning through him. “What’s wrong with your people? What’s wrong with your
family
? How could they let a virgin Queen out of her home village without an escort, let alone out of the Territory?” His temper roared to life with a vengeance. “What kind of man is your father to let you go to a place like Raej?”

“What do
you
know about my people or my family?” She swung her legs off the bench and sucked air through her teeth. “And don’t you dare insult my father!”

Jared took a step forward. “If you stand on that leg, I’ll do what your father should have done. I’ll put you over my knee and wallop some sense into you! I swear it!”

“Unlike some people, I don’t sit on my brains, Warlord!”

“That’s highly debatable, Lady!”

Someone tried to open the door and smacked his arm since he was still blocking it.

Jared cursed, thought about throwing his weight against the door to give whoever was on the other side a taste of wood, heard the feminine snarl, and thought again. Rubbing his arm, he stepped farther into the wagon to let Thera enter.

“That’s enough,” Thera said, her eyes chips of green ice. “The Lady needs care, which even a male should be able to figure out.”

Jared bared his teeth at her, at the same time wondering if a man could be castrated by a look.

Thera tossed a blanket at him. “Hang that up and get out of those wet clothes before you get sick and become completely useless. I’ll help the Lady.”

He’d just bet she’d help the Lady, Jared thought as he used Craft to hang the blanket. He called in the cloth traveling bag he’d been given to store his extra clothes and dug through it, looking for something to wear that didn’t smell too ripe.

Of course Thera would help the Lady. Why wouldn’t she? Two of a kind, that’s what they were. Stubborn, temperamental, always sure they knew better than a man even if he had more experience, always so damn sure they could do just fine on their own, thank you very much.

Not finding anything clean to wear except the thin tunic and trousers he’d been given at Raej didn’t help his temper. He tossed them back into the bag and stripped. Smelling ripe would keep everyone away from him, which suited him just fine. Besides, after what they’d just been through, they needed time to recover, time to think, time to plan. And while they were doing that, he was damn well going to find a way to wash these clothes.

“I’m sorry,” Thera said, her voice a little muffled by the blanket. “When Garth got Eryk and Tomas out of the creek, I pulled out the chest with your heading supplies.

Foolish. My wits must have been scattered ... or else those damn spells were muddling my head. There was no reason to try to drag it outside since they were bringing the boys to the wagon. It was heavier than I thought.“

“It would have gotten heavier,” the Lady said quietly. “Several spells had been put on it to prevent anyone but me from moving it.”

Thera sighed. “I should have realized that.
I should have realized that
.”

She sounded fierce and upset. Then she sighed again. “Anyway, when I pulled it out the door, I dropped it on the steps. The back of it got punctured and must have torn the tangled web that created the illusion.”

Jared kept still, hardly daring to breathe. He had the feeling whatever they might say to each other now might not be said at all if they remembered he was there.

‘“It doesn’t matter,” the Lady said. After a moment, she added, “Besides, you knew anyway.”

Jared could almost feel Thera’s shrug. “I guessed. Since I was trained in it, it’s easy enough for me to recognize the Hourglass’s Craft.” Another bit of silence. “I guessed,” Thera said, sounding careful, “just like you guessed I wasn’t broken.”

What?

Jared stared at the blanket. Then he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. Thera.

Unbroken. They’d all been fencing with a Black Widow who still wore the Jewels and had the full use of her particular Craft.

“Come on,” Thera said. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

Hearing the familiar sounds of someone getting undressed, Jared hurriedly pulled on layers of clothes. If he added warming spells to them, they should keep him comfortable enough for the next few hours since his coat was soaked. Even Craft couldn’t instantly dry material. At least he didn’t think it could. The next time he met a hearth-witch, he’d ask her.

The rustling on the other side of the blanket stopped.

“Mother Night,” Thera said. “You’re a mess. Didn’t you miss
any
of the rocks?”

Jared clenched his hands to keep from tearing down the blanket. He gritted his teeth to keep silent.