The Toll (77 page)

“
That’s what I
thought.”

“
Pig,” I admonished,
grinning when he chuffed and let go.

“
Prig,” he shot back,
gripping my hip to tug me close as he led me down a dark,
rough-hewn tunnel.

I’d never been this way, the walls
more jagged, natural looking, than the rest. I knew better than to
wander too far, the ‘combs, deep past where Troll’s cell had been,
filled with Other that had gone mad.

A sort of prison for the mythical gone
berserk, Ketik was their overtaker, the gate keeper to Ornthren and
Other alike who’d lost their minds to some madness or spell or
another. It gave me a smidgeon of respect for the purple-eyed
degenerate, though we still bickered constantly.

Incapable of caring,
indeed
, I thought for at least the
hundredth time in so many months.

“
Think ‘o’ somethin’ good
if yer gonna pick at her,” Quaz muttered from behind us. “If she
was anythin’, the way ye two go at it like rabbits, prig is no’ a
word I’d choose, eh? An’ she’s only feisty when ye curse in fronta
the beast.” A slow smile spreading across his face, he chuckled,
“Sometimes we get ye talkin’ in fronta the wee one, just to try an’
get ye ta slip. Madder than a wet hen, an’ over a few dirty words?
Hah!”

“
Shut it,” Troll snapped,
stopping when we reached a small opening that led to a jagged rock
facing that just went up and up.

“
What’s this?” I asked,
glancing around interestedly, purposely ignoring that entire
conversation.

“
This,” he responded,
slipping Calder off his shoulder to hand him off to Quaz. He was
too heavy for me to carry for any long stretch, especially now, so
I had to relinquish that duty to Troll or Quaz. It stung at first,
but what could I do? He was simply too heavy for me.

Ketik, thankfully, spent most of his
time in his own space now, if he wasn’t in the ‘combs, and less and
less in Under. With the exception of hunts and the small holiday
feasts the males put on, I didn’t have to deal with him nearly as
much.

Hands running along a particularly
sharp lip, my eyes widened when Troll intentionally cut his hand
along the edge, drawing an enormous square, big enough for an
Ornthren to stand under, in deep red blood.

Closing his eyes, he held his
undamaged hand out to me, humming something low in his throat, that
odd language of his tumbling from his lips, our runes lighting up,
as one, as he laced our hands together.

My body hummed along with his voice,
the blood along the wall glowing eerily before it started to pull
away from the wall and began to crumble. Blinking at the sight
before me in disbelief, a small sheen washed over the new entryway,
like a shimmering screen, as it appeared where the wall had just
been—a sort of veil. As the sight just beyond was revealed, I
gasped and tugged at his arm.

“
Like it, then, eh?”
Knocking a fist along the wall, he told me, “Closed it after I
thought I’d lost ye. Couldna stand ta come back.” Face hardening
for a moment, he rumbled gruffly, “too many memories, good an’ the
bad.”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat,
my fingers squeezed his. “Is it? Is that...?”

Grinning down into my shocked face, he
rasped, “It’s yers now.” Lifting a hand up, he showed me the cut
slashing across his palm, still bleeding, but sluggishly, already
starting to heal. “Gave it to ye. Ye like it?”

“
Mine? Is that why you...
what the,” I gestured around the entryway he’d just created, “was
for?”

“
Yep.” he nodded. “Had
fixed it so no one else could enter. Now ye an’ the boy can.”
Glancing over his shoulder meaningfully, he muttered, “Or fools ye
may see fit to let pass for a brief respite.”

Reaching into my skirt pocket, I held
my hand out to him. “Well, I was waiting to give you this on a
special occasion, but I can’t think of a better time.”

Holding his good palm out dutifully, I
slipped my present into it, curling his fingers over it. Shock lit
his features when he realized what it was.

Grinning, I kissed his knuckles. “Like
it, huh?”

Leaving him gaping down at his prize,
I ran through the veil, dancing into the space—our space—touching
everything, running my fingers along the table and chairs, over the
rim of all the trunk lids, glistening again with baubles. It all
looked the same.

Home.

Walking up behind me, scooping me up
and pressing my back to his chest, my feet dangling in the open air
as he cradled me close, nuzzling my neck, Troll pointed to one of
the spaces, large enough to be a room, adjacent to the room that
held the pallet bed we’d once shared. “Figured the wee beastie
could be callin’ tha’ his own.”

Lumbering over, despite my protests he
put me down, he grudgingly released me at the threshold, waiting
until I peered inside. Two large chests lined the wall, empty and
ready for use, and I could see the spot where his sleeping pallet
would go.

My bonded’s chest brushed mine as he
stood right behind me, his heat warming me to my toes.
“Well?”

“
I like it.” Gripping his
thick hands in mine, I moved them down my waist, resting them over
my stomach. Peering up at him, I smiled at the question in his
eyes. “Do you think we could make room for one more?”

“
More?” His hands started
caressing my stomach slowly, a huge, blindingly handsome grin
splitting his normally taciturn face.

Few and far between, I cherished the
appearance of those sappy, goofy grins.

Inhaling deeply, he grunted. “Dinna
even think ta question why yer scent changed. Thought it ye rag.”
Inhaling again as I swatted at him, face a mortified reddish pink,
he easily batted me away, still smiling stupidly. “Subtle, but it’s
there.”

“
You really don’t mind?” I
murmured uncertainly.

Noting my unease, he tipped my chin,
bending down, hunching his huge frame over mine to caress my cheek
and nuzzle my jaw. “Ye give me things more precious than any
bauble, Nugget. They’re worth more than all me trunks. Know
why?”

“
No.” Curious, my brows
raised inquiringly, head tilting slightly. “Why?”

Holding the locket out to me, letting
it spin as he held it out on its chain, faint blue glow emanating
from it, he explained, “Love be a powerful thing. The importance we
place on things, like me bearer did this bauble, her last link to
her bonded—me sire—the male she loved, make ’em mighty powerful, so
important.”

“
And that’s why you require
them, as a Toll?”

He nodded as I considered that. “Then,
when I offered you my locket, in exchange for Otvla...?”

“
That lazy layabout wasna
worth the trinket.” Snorting, he shook his head. “She wasna worth
anythin’, not even the paste jewelry ye tossed me way, the noisy
wench. Couldna have taken yer necklace in exchange, even if I’d
wanted to. Meant too much. There are rules we haveta follow, ye
know.”

Trolls and rules, though not the human
kinds of rules, were more of a guideline than anything, but I felt
the Fates had something to do with that, somewhere along the lines,
as well.

The chuckle bubbling up in
my throat burst free and I choked out a laugh. Then I remembered
something. “You know, I’d thought you thought
she
was worth too much.”

Face pulling into a grimace, he
muttered, “What kind of daft idea was that? Ye lost yer
mind?”

Shrugging helplessly, I laughed again.
“Guess so.”

“
Silly, female. That
settles that then, eh? Where did ye locket go, anyways?” Fingers
circling my neck, he traced lazy patterns along the flesh, a
tingling path trailing in his wake.

“
Ketik demanded a toll. I
threw it at him.”

“
Yeah?”

The pleased smile on his face had me
giggling into my hand.

“
Yeah. Hit him right
between the eyes. I tossed the coin bags at him too.”

A surprised grunt left his lips and he
kissed me hard on the mouth. “No wonder he hates ye. Bested by me
wee little human carrot top.” Fingers drifting through my frizzed
hair, he shook his head. “Love ye even more for it, ye feisty
wench. Goin’ ta have ta keep an eye on ye, eh?”

Patting his jaw between words, I
whispered against his lips quietly, “Never let me out of your
sight.”

“
Never,” he growled softly,
taking my lips once more in a thorough, shiver-inducing
kiss.

Pulling back slightly, he nodded as my
eyes drifted over his shoulders, past his runes and the scars mixed
in, then down to mine.

My fingers brushed over them through
my top. “But, I don’t have any trinkets to keep my strength, aside
from when I had that,” I pointed to the locket, “where do I get
mine from?”

“
From me,” he said
simply.

“
You?” I laughed a little
at that, but then my eyes widened. “I’m not draining yours to feed
mine, am I?” Thinking of our bond, the link that binds us so
inexplicably, and all the times I’ve used my powers, I
paled.

“
Not like that.” Shaking
his head, his lips pressed gently to my forehead.

“
But they’re from
you?”

He nodded once.

“
But not
from
you?” I
guessed.

Another nod, and he held up the
locket, as if to explain.

And then it clicked. “Are you saying
you love me so much, place such a high value on my head, that I...
what? Gain strength from the importance you’ve put on...
me?”

The light in his eyes brightened, eyes
crinkling at the corners. “Mmm. Maybe not yer fool head, but the
rest of ye, aye.”

Lids lowering, I slid him a slanted,
guarded look. “Are you saying I’m like one of those tokens from one
of your trunks?”

Smiling crookedly, he cupped his
mother’s necklace in his hand, brushing his knuckles softly over my
cheek. “A bauble is just a bauble, ‘til it means somethin.” Lifting
his hand, palm down, he let the locket dangle from his fingers, the
chain wrapped around the index and middle. “Ye’re worth much more
than any pretty ta me, woman. The wee beastie too.

“
Oh?”

Bright gaze flickering with emotion,
he nodded. “Enough to keep me runes lit, an’ yers, an’ who the fuck
else cares, for an eternity.”

“
You’re not just saying
that to make me feel better about syphoning from you, are you?”
Lips pursed, I eyed him warily as he stared down at me steadily,
his hands encircling my belly where our babe would soon grow,
burning orange gaze unblinking in the face of my disbelief. I
wouldn’t let him hurt himself, bending over backwards to keep us
both protected, keep our stores of magic filled.

How many tolls would it take? If it
came down to it, could I help him in some way? Maybe invoke my
runes less?

“
No. An’ ye can wipe that
troubled look off yer face, Nugget. Isna needed.”

“
Swear?” The worry in my
voice had him leaning down, nipping my lip on a soft
growl.

“
Canna put a value on how
much yer stubborn arse an’ the wee beastie mean ta me, or this
one.” His hand stilled on my belly meaningfully. “On me shriveled
up black heart, love, yer troll swears it.”

Arms snaking around his neck, I tugged
him back to me. “Thank you,” I murmured sincerely, about to kiss
him silly.

“
For what?” He frowned,
blinking down at me, truly baffled.

“
Letting me in, letting me
love you.”

“
Shouldna I be thankin’
ye?” His confusion just seemed to increase, brows pulled down low
over his eyes, shadowing his features. It was too much, and I
laughed a little, happiness suffusing me as a grin spread across my
face.

“
Mmm.” Our noses bumped and
I pressed my lips to his for a hard, quick kiss. When he would have
scooped me up, I released him quickly, dancing a few steps back.
“If you insist.”

“
Nugget,” he grumbled
warningly, curling the fingers of his outstretched hand towards me
as he beckoned me back. Those fiery orange eyes did delicious
things to my insides, his naughty smile just this side of troll-ish
and wicked.

“
Yes, my love?” Cocking a
brow, hands primly behind my back, biting my lip to keep from
laughing outright, I blinked up at him innocently.

“
Come here, bonded.”
Grunting as I ignored his command, he took one big step towards me
and waited.

“
Who?” Blinking up at him,
I gave my chest a little tap. “Me?”

Eyes flashing with tendrils
of inky black, he bared his teeth, curling his fingers towards me
once more, entreating me. The thick ridge slowly starting to rise,
firm and seconds away from pressing angrily to the confines of the
fabric encasing him, begging to be released, I licked my lips as my
gaze drifted up his thick, well-muscled thighs.
Mine.

“
Mm. Want me? Come get me.”
Turning in a swirl of skirts, bare feet, and long orange hair, his
growl, as I took off, shook the walls.