“I hope there’s something bad in these woods – otherwise, they’re going to kill something good. Either way, something is about to die,” I mutter.
I check Kitten for wounds, again. Just to be sure.
“What about you?” I ask, not looking up.
He perches on the arm of the couch, kicking his boots off and putting his feet on the cushion a little from her head. Just looking at her.
“I’ve kissed her,” he says, reverence in his tone.
“You kissed her on Pax’s orders in the stables,” I point out.
He shrugs. “She tasted like wine then – lots of wine. But I’ve kissed her again, and again, and I want to kiss her some more.”
“She doesn’t sour against your Seed?” I try, guessing at what he’s struggling to say.
Or maybe I’m just struggling to understand or to believe that of all the people strong enough to feel true to a man with a seed that eventually, no matter what, digs down to find the secrets and lies being kept against them, it’s our Kitten.
“There are only a few things I don’t do – second kisses are on that list,” he says, waving a dried apricot in my face.
“I don’t know why you do first kisses. Has anyone ever not tasted like sour milk to you?”
“Her,” he deadpans, pointing down. “And I don’t want to lose her, you know?”
I turn my palm up – the seal is gone. We have about a week before our lives depend on returning to the White Castle. An uncomfortable week expending energy trying to fight the magic. Our only advantage is the strength of the pentad over other Sabers locked into a triune. It’s not an exact science. Like the bubble, I guess. Inches, paces, it doesn’t matter how it’s shrinking, or how often, just that it is.
“What do we do?” Seth asks.
“Ouch,” Kitten moans.
She moves one hand to rub her head, then moans again.
I rest my hand on her stomach, pushing her shirt aside to seek out her still cold skin and draw the pain away.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I’m guessing Killian used too much Darkness around you,” I say.
“You have that whole mortals-get-their-souls-sucked thing going on, remember?” Seth adds, offering her an apricot that she just frowns at.
“No, he didn’t. It’s me – my fault,” she groans. “Help me up.”
“What was it, and how was it your fault?” Seth asks.
“It was kissing,” she manages.
He had her in his arms? How could he be so stupid? He knows he can’t. No matter how much power she could handle, she still couldn’t handle him.
I thought the damage was from training – what else is hurt that isn’t bleeding?
I grab her arm so suddenly she startles, but I’ve already checked there. Already checked her stomach and her legs and … her neck… with my other hand I pull the collar of her shirt aside – revealing fingertip-sized bruises.
She swats my hand away.
“What else?” I demand, pulling at the tie on her shirt.
“Roarke,” she snaps, swatting my hand again.
I’m about to growl at her; all my patience is gone. She has to let me see, let me check. This is worse than simply sparring with the Darkness. I grab her other arm to stop her from pushing me away again.
“Easy,” Seth says, resting his hand on my shoulder before I have a chance to wrestle with my Kitten. “Vexy, Darkness breaks the things he’s intimate with.”
She yanks her arms free before saying, “I’m not a thing.”
“That’s not what he meant, Kitten. Killian should know better.”
“I made him do it,” she mutters, trying to get up, except I won’t let her.
“What do you mean?” I demand.
At the same time Seth asks, “How do you make a man like Killian kiss you?”
“Where is he? This is important,” she insists – ignoring us both.
“It’s not,” I tell her.
Why won’t she see?
“Okay, fine, it’s not important, but I still need Killian,” she snaps.
We relent, helping her to her feet and watching closely as she leads the way. This is wrong, but the best chance I have at making this right is if I can get all of us together. So the vulnerable mortal can tell the king of Darkness that she is sorry.
One Pace
Kissing Darkness still, somehow, used magic. I’d like to think that I’m just that chuckin’ awesome that I ripped through their pretty little potion because my soul wanted to be near Killian’s. But most likely, my bubble just has a mind of its own and shrinks whenever it damn well pleases.
My hours are numbered, and each one is closer to being my last, and that sounds like something out of one of Cook’s tales – stick to the shadows and the shade.
Oh, Cook. If you knew the trouble I’ve gotten myself into.
Seth has his arm around my shoulders, keeping me safely within my one step limit, and Roarke is pacing ahead of us. The guy looks ready to explode. I don’t blame him – but it does scare me. Roarke does calm thinking things. Pacing – yes. Exploding – no.
We stop beside Pax’s meeting space. The four logs and fire are roughly to my right, pebbled path to who-knows-what on my left, the stream then field then trees before me.
Roarke puts his lips around his fingers and whistles – just like Pax. The sound is ear-piercing, and I literally hold my breath until Killian steps out of the trees. I have vague memories of where we were because I was much more focused on what we were doing, but I’m willing to bet that he’s returning from the exact same spot.
Stalking, actually – the man is stalking toward us.
My stomach knots. He’s pissed, and it’s most certainly my fault. I knew what I was doing. I knew I was pushing him, and I did it anyway.
My body cowers into Seth’s side while my mouth decides to provide a distraction. “So, yay, I can't sense any of you anymore. Can’t even feel your power, but I’m still completely subject
