DarykHunter (8 page)

She sniffed and pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes sparkled with something that almost appeared like jealousy. Good. He wanted her jealous.

“As if I cared who you copulate with.”

He chuckled.

To his surprise, her frown grew deeper. Good. He liked the way her eyes sparked when he made her angry.

“Have you had…relations with her before she was mated?” she asked.

Satisfaction flowed through him. She was jealous. The slightly petulant turn to her mouth and the glitter in her eyes gave her away. “Why does it concern you, Ketera?”

“Because I—” She cut herself off then her lips tightened. “I’m curious about this place. There are so many men and women playing with each other I wasn’t sure what was expected here.”

Playing? He glanced around and realized she meant flirting. Somewhat more than flirting, if he paid attention. One wench sat on a man’s lap, her bottom planted firmly, the man’s arms around her waist. From the woman’s heavy-lidded expression and the man’s slack-jawed, glazed expression, Dane figured a lot more was going on under the woman’s skirt than anyone could see. The tavern didn’t have rules against public sex. Suddenly the woman on the man’s lap gasped, her body coming up then slamming down on the man. The man surged upward and growled like a beast from the jungle. The woman’s expression held pure ecstasy.

“This is a normal tavern,” he said. “Nothing more or less.”

She wrinkled her nose as she stared at the copulating couple. “Disgusting.”

He smiled. “Why? Because men and women are free to express their desires? Or because you find the place exciting? Perhaps you want to express your desires in the same way? Do you hate this place because it makes you feel something you don’t want to feel?” He leaned toward her, drawing in her clean scent. “Perhaps you’d like me to show you how it can feel to express your needs with an audience?”

She tilted her small nose upward and speared him with a glower both queenly and annoyed. “Never.”

That’s it, sprite. Keep telling yourself that.

Truth be told, he didn’t want their first time together to be in front of any audience. He wanted her all for his own. A softening occurred inside him he didn’t understand. When it came to her, he felt off balance, possessive. In the grip of a longing both staggering and gentle. He should have warned her that he would try to seduce her at every turn. Perhaps not. She’d already rejected his declaration that she was his.

Mine
, the feral call kept echoing in his head.
She’s mine.

He leaned nearer, lowering his voice to a whisper, staring directly into her eyes. “All right, you want the truth? I’ll give it to you. There is a fierce, almost unstoppable need within me to take you to my bed.”

Her mouth dropped open and the indignation on her face spread into a full-scale glare of a woman filled with scorn. She shook her index finger at him. “You, sir, are the last man I would ever consider giving my body. You couldn’t seduce me.”

He drew in a deep breath, staring her down, daring her to say anything that might break his shaky control. He wanted to kiss her again, the desire acute and almost painful. “I see. My fingers and tongue inside you does not count as giving me your body? If you think that is not sex, you have a lot to learn. I could take you in the next room and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to stand.”

He could see the fire rising inside her, knew his words made her angry and aroused at the same time. A flush glowed in her cheeks, making the delicate lines of her face unbearably delightful to him.

“I know what constitutes sex you…you boorish…” she sputtered, her frustration obviously blunting her ability to speak.

“You know my name.” He smiled, enjoying the heat that seemed to flow between them even when they argued. His voice lowered to a rasp. “And I’d like to hear you scream it when you come around my cock.”

She gasped and looked around, apparently afraid their conversation would be overheard. “You bastard.”

A huge hand came down on his shoulder, and Dane jerked a dagger from his waist holster. He came around with a growl.

“Whoa! Whoa there, old friend! It is I, Minilos.” The shaggy-haired man standing over Dane smiled down with an amused and genial expression, his grin half hidden by a gold and red thick beard and mustache.

Minilos Willburi’s generous waistline spoke of indulgence in establishments such as this. His curly and unruly hair, had long ago earned him the nickname of “lion”.

“Fuck you, Minilos.”

The hearty man burst out in laughter, throwing his head back and roaring to the low ceiling. Everyone ignored Minilos, used to his boisterous personality.

“Good to know I’m still your friend, Dane. For a minute I thought you’d skewer me on your dirk.”

Dane snorted and took another drink. “You’re not my type.”

Another booming laugh left Minilos’ throat. “How long has it been since we’ve seen you around here? A good month? What have you been doing? Wenching in the Tarrian region? I hear there are ripe women there. Strong and capable who escaped their men long ago.”

“If there are, I haven’t seen any. Besides, we’re in the Tarrian region. I don’t have to go anywhere to wench with ripe women.”

Minilos sat down on the bench across from Dane, his too-full tankard sloshing drink onto the large man’s hand. “Too true. It’s boring around here lately. So calm.” The man eyeballed Ketera. “Then again, I see you already have a wench. My apologies, good friend.”

Ketera’s lips went tight, her eyes hard. “I am not a wench.”

Dane smiled. “This is Ketera Aldrancos. Ketera, Minilos.”

“Charmed.” Minilos held out his meaty hand. He captured Ketera’s small fingers and brought them to his lips for a smacking kiss. “Charmed indeed.”

She jerked her hand back but didn’t reply to Minilos’ overwrought statement. “He can help us?”

Minilos grinned. “I can help you with anything you need. I stake my golden reputation on it.”

Her ire chilled but her eyes held suspicion. She glanced around. “We can’t talk about this here. What if someone hears us?”

Dane grunted. “Not likely. We’ll keep our voices low. The very fact we’re in a tavern like this takes away any suspicion.”

“Why do we need him?” Ketera asked.

Dane’s smile became brittle. “Because he is an old friend with expertise.” He turned his attention back to the robust man. “Besides. He probably hasn’t had enough murder and mayhem to suit an old Daryk One, eh?”

Dane realized in an instant he shouldn’t have mentioned Minilos’ age. He was too damn sensitive about it.

The older man grimaced. “Just because I don’t patrol with you feckless young ones anymore doesn’t mean I can’t pound sense into a cretin.”

Shaking his head, Dane said, “I can see you have your hands full here. Leave the battles outside of Grimnald Castle to me.”

Minilos nodded, apparently placated. “So tell me, what goes on outside the castle walls these days? I burn for news.”

“The other castles are still making up their minds which side they’re on. Armen’s side or Drakus’ side.”

“How many castles are on this continent,” Ketera asked.

Dane counted them off on one hand. “Grimnald, Austos, which is in the Ithaycan desert, Leadios, which is in the glacier lands of Imekland, and Bardannia, which is also in Imekland. I think most of the castles will maintain their honor and see that stealing women from another country is not the way to do this.”

Minilos snorted. “Perhaps we can convince Armen we need to send an emissary to Magonia to talk sense into them. That we need to mix our lands and people to survive. But I doubt it will work. Magonians have no sense.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ketera asked with undeniable rancor.

Dane smiled. “Ketera is from Magonia.”

Minilos looked bashful for a second then his gaze took in Ketera with a whole new light. “Really? My apologies, my dear.”

Dane threw her a teasing glance. “She’s very sensitive, Minilos. Watch your tongue.”

Minilos winked. “Have you been watching yours?”

Dane laughed softly as Ketera’s cheeks went red.

Minilos sipped delicately from his own tankard in direct contrast to his usual copious consumption. “Forgive my rough ways, little lady. I’ve had a lot of work to do lately with this tavern. Fights almost every night. Drunken bastards wrecking my property. It’s hell, I tell you. Hell.”

Dane grinned. “Which one?”

The hairy man groaned. “All of them. Perhaps the deepest level. Seventeen, I think.”

“Right. And when are you going to find a real job?”

Minilos possessed a good sense of humor, thank Draconus. He glared at Dane with mock seriousness. “Running this tavern is the best occupation I’ve ever had. Keeps me out of trouble.”

“Uh-huh. If you call drunken brawls every night peace and quiet.”

Minilos quirked one eyebrow. “And that’s only the Daryk Ones who come in here every night to find drink and a woman. I swear I don’t remember feeling the need to fight as you young ones do. Is it something new?”

Dane rolled his gaze to the ceiling in mock disgust then looked at Ketera. “New he says. That is a lie and you know it. There is nothing new in Dragonia.”

Minilos looked morose as he stared into his tankard. “Are the rumors true, Dane?” He lowered his voice to a whisper that Dane could barely discern. “Are rogue Daryk Ones threatening this castle?”

“Keep your voice down.”

Minilos lowered his voice even more. “Tell me. Is it true?”

“Rumors say Drakus is planning to move in on our position here and destroy us.” He shrugged. “I’m not concerned. He will raid and we will repel. Nothing penetrates our walls, remember? Not even a siege engine, and I doubt he has one of those.” When he saw the doubt in his old friend’s eyes, he continued with, “He owns a ragtag army of miscreants who never should have been allowed into the Daryk Ones in the first place. If he tries to attack the castle, Armen will be forced to see that he must fight Drakus head-on and take him down.”

Minilos peered at him. Drink hadn’t clouded the serious expression in his eyes. “It pains you to think of any Daryk Ones willing to harm another Daryk One and hurt women?”

“How can you ask that? Of course it does.”

Minilos sighed. “It does cut deep. But it was to be expected. With our diversity of beliefs and peoples, the extremes will always try to win out. You understand as well as I do. I’m surprised we’ve gone this long without worse happening.”

As much as Dane wanted to pretend that their continent didn’t verge on fragmenting into more warring factions, he couldn’t. Dane closed his eyes and wished the topic would dissolve, but he couldn’t bury it. “Peace would be wonderful.”

His friend tilted his head to the side. “Peace you say? Are you insane? Peace has never been and never will be. It’s in Dragonian blood to fight.”

Dane sighed. “I’ve been a warrior most of my life. My blood is tired.”

“Really? I hear your blood is actually up. The way you attacked that dragon will be a legend for much time to come, no doubt.”

Dane grunted.

Minilos laughed and then swallowed a mighty gulp of drink. He grimaced as the liquid went down his throat. He wiped his mouth with his tunic arm. “Are you saying you want to quit being a Daryk One? The heat is too high for you?”

Minilos sounded scandalized, but Dane saw the humor lurking in his eyes. “Never.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What other occupation would give me a chance to kill dragons?”

Minilos slapped the table. “Exactly. Now, before this drink overwhelms me, tell me what sort of wretched plan you’ve involved this beautiful young lady in. And by the by, you really should keep your kissing to yourself. Everyone in the castle saw you snogging her after the dragon fight. They assume you’ve shagged her.”

Dane wanted to pop his friend in the jaw. “By the god, I could rip your loose tongue out by the roots.”

Minilos laughed and clapped Dane on the back. “Perhaps you should go home and screw her blind. That’ll cure what ails you both.”

Ketera stood up, her face pink. “Excuse me. Is there a facility for ladies? I’ll return in a moment.”

Minilos pointed it out, and she strode away. Dane kept an eye on her as she wended her way through the crowd of boisterous tavern goers. She made it to the back room safely.

Ketera left the bathing room with one hand over her stomach. She didn’t really feel that steady. Maybe the meat pies she’d eaten earlier hadn’t agreed with her. The tavern was stuffy and she needed a bit of fresh air. Anything to get away from the noisy, smoky, crowded interior for one moment.

An open door down the hall to the left allowed a cooler breeze to waft inside the building. Night sounds echoed from the jungle. Just a moment or two to compose herself and she’d go back inside and face Dane and Minilos.

She stepped outside and drank in the clean air. A bench beckoned outside the doorway and she sat down. This was better.

For one moment, as she’d left Dane and Minilos, she’d considered running. She’d find her own way. She wasn’t stupid and her guts would go far. She knew her way around people, despite every effort her society made to keep her in place. As much as she would miss bantering and fighting with Dane, she wanted to find a quicker way off this Magon-forsaken continent and back to her own country.

Oh Dane. Yes, she would miss the passion he’d inspired in her. But surely if she returned to Magonia she could forget his touch. His kisses. And the maddening and forbidden pleasure he’d created within her.

Still, she knew she couldn’t do it.

Dane was right about one thing at least. This was a dangerous country and she was unfamiliar with it. She needed his help.

She sighed and gazed through the semidarkness.

The small township stood but a few hundred yards outside Grimnald Castle in a clearing surrounded by jungle. Night had fallen, but two huge Croan red moons dwarfed the treetops at the horizon. Torches lit the area, probably as much to discourage animals as to prevent any other crime. Crime. The very word intimidated.

Her mind spun with what she’d witnessed in the tavern. Men and women copulating, women’s breasts hanging out for all to see, vice of every imaginable kind save robbery, murder and—well, she supposed those might go on there as well. Yet Minilos had seemed like a nice enough man at the core, even if his crass demeanor spoke of broken former glory. And Dane. Well, Dane had stolen her breath when he’d suggested she might want to try public sex with him. Oh lord Magon. Her face heated even in the coolness.