The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (42 page)

“Oh, thank the gods,” Ashlyn
whispered, patting the horse’s neck. “And thank you. I promise I’ll give you a
break if you can just get us to the lake, sweetheart. Come on now.” Checking to
make sure that her dad was still resting evenly on the horse’s back, Ashlyn
started off in the direction of the lake, leading with the reins.

It took them several minutes to
complete what should have been a thirty second walk, but Ashlyn wasn’t
complaining when they finally emerged into a clearing with a beautiful,
sparkling lake and a small waterfall. She edged around the lake, trying to
steer clear of the muddy parts so as not to leave tracks, and made her way to
the waterfall.

The horse knew how to ground-tie,
right? It had certainly appeared that way earlier. “Um…stay,” she said
uncertainly to the gelding, dropping the reins and pointing at the ground.
“I’ll be right back.”

The horse lowered its head and
tore up a mouthful of grass, chewing placidly.

“Oh, good. You just stay here and
eat.” Ashlyn hobbled to the edge of the waterfall and stretched out a hand
through the curtain of water, trying to see if there was a crevice behind it.
She felt nothing- just air. She ducked through, holding her hands out in front
of her to stop her if she encountered a wall, but when she emerged on the other
side, she was happy to see a damp cavern stretching back into the mountain. It
was small, much too small and wet for a permanent dwelling place, but big
enough for two people and a horse to hide out for a little while.

Even after satisfying its
appetite for grass, Drake’s horse didn’t want to go through the water, but at
her persistent urging, the gelding finally stuck his head through, and then, as
if he were scared the water might not allow the rest of his body to enter as
well, suddenly took a huge leap and skidded into the cave awkwardly. Ashlyn
yelped and dropped her weapon harness, barely catching her father as he slid
off the horse’s back. She fell back against the cave wall, but managed to stay
upright.

“Okay, Dad…calm down…we made it,”
she said to the still-unconscious Lord Li, grunting as she dragged him to the
back of the cave and laid him down next to the wall. “Now I just have to figure
out what to do next.” She checked his pulse, which was still strong. When he
woke up she’d give him some water to try to replenish his fluids, but of course
sleep would help right now, too.

The horse seemed all right too,
but was favoring his front leg even more after the total overkill of his giant
leap, which just
figured
. Ashlyn
removed the saddle and rubbed down the tired horse with the damp saddle
blanket. She found a sheathed dagger and a pair of gloves in the remaining
saddle bag, and strapped the dagger to her leg, figuring that any additional
weapons she could carry would be helpful right now. There was also a mostly dry
blanket at the bottom of the saddle bag, which she draped over her dad, tucking
it under him as best she could. He was wet from his trip through the waterfall,
and she didn’t want to worry about him getting hypothermia on top of everything
else.

She healed the cut on her hand
that she’d gotten from her shuriken earlier, and put on the gloves. Even damp,
they smelled like Drake.

She didn’t want to think about
Drake. Ashlyn slumped against the wall, one hand against her forehead, and
tried to think about what to do next.

The crashing of the waterfall was
too damn loud.

I
have to go outside and get that saddle bag anyway before someone finds it,
she thought, and glanced over at
her father. He was still sleeping soundly. She’d go out and get the saddle bag
and then come right back. She supposed they could just spend the night here and
leave in the morning- and maybe, just maybe, the horse would be well enough to
carry her father by then.

Ashlyn ducked through the
waterfall again, shivering as the cold water hit her already-chilled skin and
plastered her jagged hair to her neck. She ran a hand over the sopping locks
ruefully as she stepped onto the grass. Skye had cut off a good chunk of it-
not that he could have done anything different, of course, trying to get her
away from Drake. But she could feel the uneven ends and knew it must look
terrible. Some Elder Heir she was. Soaking wet, dirty and hungry, with a
questionable hairstyle, Ashlyn knew she probably resembled a drowned rat more
than the Lady of Toryn at that moment.

She paused several times on her
way towards the saddle bag, smoothing out their tracks so that anyone who
happened upon the lake wouldn’t be able to follow them to the waterfall. With
luck, anyone who came by would just keep on going.

She was pushing leaves back into
place with her boot when she heard the growling, and somehow she knew
immediately that it was Drake. She turned to face him, and saw his eyes in the
darkness, glowing red and closer than expected.

She had time for a single breath
before he charged at her.

Ashlyn spun out of the way,
drawing the knife from the sheath on her thigh and catching Drake’s midsection
as he passed. Instead of moving away from the blade, he turned and grabbed her
arm, letting the dagger cut deeper as he swooped down to bite her forearm.
Ashlyn yanked her hand back and kicked him in the face, then cartwheeled aside,
trying to put some distance between them.

She honestly had no idea what to
do. She had known the
resist
stane
tempered Drake’s bloodlust, but she hadn’t known the extent of his lunacy
without the calming magic. Was it possible to reason with him?

“Drake, it’s me,” she told him,
holding up a hand to show that she didn’t want to hurt him. “It’s Ashlyn. The-
the girl you couldn’t forget, the one like a dying rainbow.” She felt silly
saying it out loud, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

He snarled and swiped at her
half-heartedly with one hand as they circled each other, Drake moving out from
the cover of forest onto the grass next to the lake and Ashlyn following. She
didn’t want to hurt him, but she wasn’t about to let him get near her dad in
this condition.

“Let me help you,” she said,
trying to keep his attention. “I have the
resist
stane. Don’t you want to put it back on?” Again, she felt profoundly
ridiculous talking to Drake like this, as though he were a petulant child in
need of coaxing.

He ignored her words and lunged
forward again, fangs bared. She swiped the knife at him, but he grabbed her
wrist, then her other wrist when she attempted to punch him. His strength was
unnerving, and Ashlyn winced at both the vice-like grip and the heat of his
skin against hers. His hands felt like they were on fire.

Drake snarled again and tried to
bite her, but she dodged awkwardly and kicked at his knee with one leg. He
danced out of the way so that her blow just glanced off his calf, and tried to
bite her again. This time Ashlyn dropped to her knees and fell backwards,
repeating the same move she’d done earlier when she used her feet to fling him
over her head. He held onto her wrists though, and she squealed as he dragged
her with him. Rolling over onto her stomach, Ashlyn scrambled to her feet,
Drake just inches away and still clutching her wrists.

Furious now, Ashlyn kicked at his
knee a second time and jerked her arms up, loosening his grip but not quite
breaking it. She landed a solid boot to his stomach and managed to twist her
wrist, gashing his forearm with the knife. Drake roared and yanked his hands
back.
Finally!
Ashlyn whirled,
hitting him in the side of the face first with her fist and then the hilt of
the knife, knocking him to his knees. It might have been a lethal blow if she’d
used the blade, but she wasn’t about to kill Drake Lockhart without at least
trying to use
resist
to save him.

She moved to kick him, hoping to
knock him out, but he grabbed her leg and threw her down. Ashlyn fell flat on
her back, the wind knocked out of her, and suddenly Drake was on top of her, grabbing
her wrists and pinning them down beside her head. The hand with the knife slid
across the grass as he tried to force the weapon out of her hand, but she held
tight.

Their eyes met, and for a moment
Ashlyn thought she saw a glimmer of recognition, a hint of the man she knew.

Then he snarled and buried his
face in her neck, and she knew he was going to bite her.

As she felt his fangs sink in,
the air was instantly sucked from her lungs, her breath rushing out in one
pitiful, mewing scream-

“Drake!”
                   

And then, just as suddenly as it
had begun, it stopped.

Drake froze against her, the
painful pressure of his teeth stilling. His hands, clenched over her wrists,
trembled, pushing her hands deeper into the thick grass as he visibly fought
for control.

After a long moment, she felt his
fangs recede completely, a trickle of blood tickling her neck as he pulled
away.

He drew in a shuddering breath.
Exhaled. His fingers pried themselves free of her wrists, seeking hold in the
grass, digging into the earth in agony at the forced restraint.

“Ashlyn.”
His voice was guttural, hoarse
with desperation.

She squirmed underneath him,
flinching when he growled at the increased physical contact. Her gloved fingers
found the smooth stone and clenched around it. “I’ve got it,” she rasped,
surprised her voice was working at all, and yanked the
resist
stane out of her pocket to press it, palm up, against his
chest.

The change was immediate. He
gasped, one hand coming up to cover hers. His breath caught, his head thrown
back as his weight let up, and she could breathe again. His irises were glowing
in the moonlight, the brightest red she’d ever seen, the color of fresh blood,
and Ashlyn lay there, fascinated as the shifting colors warred with each other
inside his eyes- dark crimsons and brilliant scarlets, rolling, twisting and
fading into one another as the vampire slowly began to regain control.

He braced one arm against the
ground beside her head and dropped his forehead to the grass above her
shoulder- not quite putting his entire weight back on her, but not giving her
any room to move, either. His breathing became deep and even, the intense heat
fading from his skin.

They stayed that way for what
might have been mere moments, or maybe an eternity. Ashlyn lay still, entranced
as ever by the lack of heartbeat beneath her fingers, but feeling as though
she’d crossed a threshold with Drake- something they couldn’t come back from.
She’d seen him lose control before, but never to this point. He’d never lost
resist
before.

He’d seen her at her most
vulnerable, saved her when she was in danger of falling to pieces. Stupidly, in
addition to her relief and receding fear, Ashlyn felt…vindicated, somehow.
She’d been able to return the favor.

His fingers moved against her
hand. She could feel the coolness of his skin through her gloves.

She pulled her hand from under
his, leaving the stane against his chest, and pressed her fingers to her neck.

“I’ll probably bleed to death,”
she said faintly, trying to keep her tone light. “Thanks a lot.”

His sharp exhalation was more
like a bark than a laugh. There was no humor in the sound.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She nodded.

He shifted his weight onto one
arm, the other hand coming up to cradle her face. The
resist
stane pressed against her skin, warming between his palm and
her cheek. Ashlyn swallowed and met his eyes, her nervousness subsiding as the
calming effects of the magic enveloped her.

She could hardly breathe as she
stared into his face, Drake’s face, the face of the man who both captivated and
frightened her. The perfect, angular planes of his features were shadowed in
the moonlight.

“I’m sorry,” he said again,
fingers trailing along her cheek. “Ashlyn-“ His voice broke, and he shook his
head as he looked down at her. There was affection in his gaze, and that same
deep, simmering
something
that
constantly lurked at the corners of his eyes like a shadow. Suddenly Ashlyn was
wary.

“Don’t- don’t do this,” she said
unevenly.

His hand stilled against her
temple. “Do what?”

His cluelessness was infuriating.
“
This,
” she hissed, trying to wriggle
out from underneath him and gaining courage with every passing second. “This-
this leading me on. It’s getting old. I’m tired of your words and…and the way
you look at me and I’m- I’m tired of getting my heart stomped by you!”

He wouldn’t budge, his weight
pinning her down, and she used one hand to push at his chest with all her
might, the other arm still awkwardly pinned above her and clenching the knife.
“Who are you kidding, Drake? You
bit
me,
I’m pretty sure that’s a clear indication of your real feelings! You’re not
doing this to me anymore! Get
off!”

“Ashlyn-
wait
.” He caught her wrist, interlacing their fingers, pushing her
hand down into the grass again. “I didn’t-“

“I don’t want to hear another one
of your stupid speeches!” she yelled in his face, and brandished the knife
menacingly- or as menacingly as she could manage, with its awkward angle off to
the side and without the required range of motion to use it. “I put up with so
much from you- your stupid
resist
magic
and your brooding and your angst! You ignore me for years before screwing with
my mind, all your crap about rainbows and passion and destiny and then you turn
and
walk away
like I’m just some
stupid little kid- like I’m a diversion for when you get bored- only I’m
real
and you’re
not,
and I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t
hurt
. So you know
what,
bloodsucker? You can-”