Blood Warrior

Kavya sat in the corner wrapped in Sherpa, leather, flannel, and silk. So many textures, and so many scents. The scent of one man in particular would’ve kept her awake all night, had she been inclined toward sleep.

She’d never seen anything so erotic, all the while knowing Tallis had performed his taunting striptease for reasons that had nothing to do with enjoyment. He’d been distracting her; that much was legitimate. He’d also been mocking her, with his curling smile and arrogant stance. Everything about the casual grace of his body said he knew what it was to touch in ways she’d never experienced. He had kissed her, and now she knew what had been hidden under the bulky coat she used as bedding.

Male perfection.

She couldn’t think past that word. Perfection. His limbs were long and strong, with muscles defined by lithe, sweeping curves. He reminded her of an acrobat or a dancer, where bulk wasn’t prized so much as agility. Lines bisected his abdominals and marked the boundary of each cluster of muscles. His pectorals and lean, strong thighs were dusted with dark hair. She could see his power in the flex of every movement, and in memories of how he’d carried her through the blizzard.

And his cock.

Kavya pressed fingertips against her eyelids and kept pressing. She’d never seen its like. The male anatomy was not a mystery, telepathically or physically. Even aroused men were familiar to her—too familiar, in some circumstances. To stand in such close proximity, so that she could see every ridge and vein, was entirely new. He pulsed with energy that built and built and gathered right there. Yes, that was new indeed. That was new like seeing fire for the first time.

The sight of fire wasn’t as impressive as its warmth. Feeling its warmth wasn’t as daring as getting closer, closer, wondering how it would feel to be consumed by something so beautifully elemental.

Had she been some other woman, perhaps, she would be lying next to him—or beneath him, or straddling him. Huddling deeper into the safety of his coat, tucked in a corner beset by icy drafts was perhaps . . . oh, she didn’t like the word, but it was cowardly. She was hiding from him. She could come up with a thousand protests as to why enjoying this man was a bad idea.

But she couldn’t think past one. If she gave her body to Tallis of Pendray, she would want to give her heart as well. At least she knew that much about herself, even if her naivete and arrogance had taken her by surprise.

She led with her heart.

The Indranan were supposed to lead with their minds, with thoughts always the first into the fray. In any conversation, in any battle, the mind over body and heart and soul. In that, she’d always been different from her clanspeople. Perhaps that was why she strived to bring her people together in peace and with hopes for the future—hopes that had everything to do with letting the heart have its say.

Love. Trust. Families without fear.

“You’re not sleeping.” Tallis’s voice was so low that it blended with the moan of the storm’s wind.

“I don’t sleep if I can help it.”

“Stubborn?”

“Self-defense.”

He shifted on the narrow bed, where the springs composed songs to the slightest shift of his body. “Tell me?”

Snow-white light stripped the room of color and replaced it with shadow. He was hugging a pillow. The tops of his shoulders and upper back peeked out from beneath the covers. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt their keen interest. Perhaps that layer of darkness allowed her to think of his interest as genuine, rather than a prelude to more ridicule.

“If an Indranan sleeps, she’s vulnerable to suggestions from outside minds. It’s an invitation for others to come play. I could wake up with totally foreign impulses deciding my life.”

“How do you know you’re not already under the influence of those impulses?” He sounded genuinely curious, speaking words touched by wariness.

“I don’t, necessarily. A Mask is one thing. It’s a canvas to disguise pieces of a personality. But thoughts born of a Mask can slip deeper during sleep—I’ve felt one or two. They don’t ring true. Like a splinter in my brain. Usually I can root them out and categorize them as not me. Not me,” she repeated softly.

“But you still avoid sleep?”

“If I can help it. Or I had allies like Chandrani. We’d sleep in shifts. One would protect the other.”

“Like having each other’s backs?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“Your people . . .”

Kavya sat up. “You’ve lived among the Indranan for what, a few months? And only in an attempt to find me. That doesn’t mean you’re any more accepting of our ways. You only collect information to search for weakness.”

He chuckled, like a teasing caress emerging from the blackness. “So quick to assume, goddess. I meant nothing cruel.”

“Then what?”

“Your people—I don’t know how you’ve survived. All gifts come with a price, but the Dragon chose the Indranan to suffer most. Nothing is as sacred as the mind, yet you have access to everyone’s innermost fears and desires. To be honest . . . I’d read your mind right now, if I could, when I’ve thought the practice despicable.” He shifted again on that telltale mattress, still hugging the pillow, biceps flexing in stark relief. “It’s that tempting. Why speak, when I could just peek in and know?”

She needed to be closer. Elementally, she’d known this would happen. The compulsion to read any aspect of his body for truthfulness joined with her physical curiosity. Tallis of Pendray was a snake charmer—just charming enough to overcome her fear and frustration.

Kavya crawled the two paces toward the bed, dragging her makeshift bedding as a turtle would its shell. Hands shaking, she reached out and touched his forearm. His breath was sharp. He covered her hand with his and brought it to his face, where micro twitches of tiny facial muscles revealed so much. She was coming to think of touching his face as the sincerest means of knowing what was true and what was placating mockery. Coming from Tallis, the two were sometimes one and the same.

“What would you want to know?” she asked softly. The blizzard’s winds kicked up in a frenzy of force and tiny, pelting ice crystals.

“What you thought of my body.”

A laugh huffed out of her lungs. She was smiling when he cupped her cheeks, too. “How egotistical is that?”

“Very,” he said. “I wanted to impress you as much as I wanted to distract you.”

“And intimidate me. And tease me for my lack of experience.”

His smile bunched beneath her palms. “Yes. All that, too.”

“What else?”

“I’d want to know why you hadn’t come to bed. Why is a cold corner better than lying with me?”

“You just admitted it: because you wanted to intimidate me and tease me. If I lie with any man, it will be because I’m desired, not the object of a dare or vendetta.”

Tallis threaded his fingertips into her still-damp hair, tunneling down to her scalp. He tugged, gave a little shake. “This has nothing to do with vendetta.”

“Then . . . what?”

“We’re back to that pesky beast in my blood.” His chuckle shone a light on his own failings. “Wanting. I’m not used to being denied.”

She pulled back and sat on her haunches. “I don’t believe that at all. The man known as the Heretic? I think your choices have denied you a great deal.”

He withdrew the warm gift of his touch. The room went cold for reasons that had nothing to do with the storm. “Go to sleep.”

Another burst of the blizzard’s power slammed against the loft’s window. Ice and terrible winds and the