Freedom's Fall (8 page)

It seemed like forever since Tansy had felt anything close
to normal, but strolling around the market with Dev and Rye made her feel safe
enough to let her worries rest for a while. The sun shone warm and bright, the
air smelled clean and fresh and the humming conversation of the market-goers
created a happy wave of sound. Tansy wanted to see everything but she also
wanted to savor this experience. Her good memories of Gemarra still had a long
way to go before they outweighed the bad.

However, she was making headway with the help of her
Enforcers, their dragons and her friends.

Dev and Rye went their separate ways to organize lunch, so
Tansy took the opportunity to look at another stall, which led to another, then
another. She wasn’t hungry enough to care how long the chow-line was and she
was determined not to waste a minute of the day standing in line.

An array of billowing silks caught her attention, and she
wandered closer to the stall. The fabric looked as light as air, and as she
reached out to feel it for herself a smooth, masculine hand wrapped lightly
around her wrist.

She turned her head, and when she caught sight of the man’s
tunic she froze in horror. Sky blue with black trim. The colors of House
Lockmehdyhn.

He was young, just entering manhood, and his clear brow
creased in a frown. “Lady Willersby, what are you doing here?”

Tansy’s throat worked but no sound came out. She wanted to
tell him to get his hands off her, that her name was Tansy Coleman and she
would never again answer to Lady Willersby. She wanted to scream at him in fury.
She desperately needed to call for Dev and Rye, but her lips wouldn’t even
open. Her chest constricted, she couldn’t take a breath, and the sky-blue tunic
seemed to fill her gaze and spread like a visual cancer. Everything stopped. No
sound, no sight but the hideous blue, no sensation but the gentle grip of a
young man who’d just shattered her world.

He drew her closer. “My Lady, are you well? Do you know
where you are?”

The pull of his hand forced her to take a step and the
movement shattered her frozen state. Blood rushed through her body, her
pounding heart driving a rhythm so frantic she could hear it roaring in her
ears. She took in a huge lungful of air and before she even began her exhale
she broke away from him and ran.

His shout went up behind her, calling for her to stop, using
that hateful name. It only spurred her on faster. Running down the aisle, she
spied a break in the pedestrians and she hit the dirt, scooting under a heavy
table and scrambling for the back of the tent. Lifting the flap, she rolled
under it, hurtled across a clear space and then rolled under another canvas
wall. Hiking her skirts out of the way, she kept low, rolling under canvas,
scrambling beneath tables, pushing past the strolling crowds at hip-height. The
man might be looking for her, but unless he had X-ray vision, he’d never see
her if she kept close to the ground.

But running at a crouch was hard work, particularly when she
had to drag meters of fabric with her and her breathing was so restricted by
her corset. She’d also been holed up in apartments and dens for months on end
and she’d lost too much conditioning to hold her pace. Maintaining her crouch,
she slowed to a fast walk and began looking for a hiding place.

Three stalls later, she found it. Coming into the area from
the back, she discovered a small sectioned-off space that was a tent within a
tent. It was dark, half filled with boxes and perfect for her immediate needs.

Dragging air into her burning lungs, she made a crawl-space
for herself, wriggling into the cavity before collapsing in a sweaty,
nerve-racked jumble of anxiety. She lay there in the dark, every sense
stretched to the limit as she listened for the footfalls of her pursuer.

Then she began to wonder. What if he’d called for
reinforcements? What if, right at this very moment, Willersby Lockmehdyhn’s
guards were hunting her down? Hunting her with the sole purpose of taking her
back to Allsgate and the hell that awaited her there? She shook her head. She
wasn’t going to be taken so easily this time. There was a knife hidden in her
boot and she was quite prepared to use it on anyone wearing a sky-blue tunic. Or
herself if necessary. She would fight for her freedom, but if it came down to
it, she’d rather die than go back to Allsgate as Willersby’s mistress.

Rye hadn’t felt this panicked since…ever. Knowing Tansy was
out there unprotected did things to his insides that were so visceral he was
surprised he wasn’t bleeding all over the ground. He plowed forward with Dev,
leaving a trail of outrage and destruction in their wake. The shouts that
followed him were as inconsequential as a bug on a dragon.

Any luck, Zenbaylan?

No.
His dragon’s voice was as cool and calm as usual.
We’ve been trying to call her but she’s shut us out again. Which shouldn’t
happen. Once the door is open, a pet shouldn’t be able to close it.

Rye avoided a servant wrangling three small boys, but in
doing so he knocked over a barrel of walking sticks.
Let’s just ignore what
should be,
he said to Zenbaylan.
Let’s just concentrate on what is. Keep
calling her.

Of course.

Rye could almost hear the mental sniff of disdain in her
voice. Too bad. He had bigger things to worry about than his pissy dragon.

Oskaal set a punishing pace, so when he suddenly back-winged
and hovered in a narrow walkway, Rye didn’t quite pull up in time. He narrowly
avoided plowing into Dev, but the tent that stopped his forward momentum didn’t
fare as well. The pole he crashed into snapped, wobbled and fell to the ground,
taking the back corner of the tent with it.

Dev looked up at the dragonet. “Where is she?”

Oskaal trilled, glided to the tent next to the one they’d
damaged and dropped to scratch at the dirt with his claw. Dev strode over and
yanked up the bottom of the canvas. Rye dropped onto his back and rolled under
before Dev even got a chance to motion him through.

Rye got to his feet but couldn’t see much in the dim light. “Tansy?
Honey, are you here?” It was quiet except for his racing heart as it beat
against his ribs in a tattoo of fear and anxiety.

Zenbaylan, is she in here?

Yes. Oskaal says she is where you are. Perhaps, if
something scared her enough to run, then she is scared enough to hide.

Rye sent love and thanks through the link as emotions rather
than words, then he turned his attention to his woman.

“It’s all right, Tansy. We know something happened, but you’re
safe with us.” Despite the darkness, he saw Dev flinch, because they’d just
proven she wasn’t safe with them at all.

Dev eased a wooden box to one side. “Are you in here, honey?
Will you let us help you?”

Rolling to his knees to help, Rye pulled a second box aside
and saw a fragment of cream brocade and a booted foot. He should have felt
relief, but when he realized that foot wasn’t moving, the shaft of fear that
coursed through him froze his limbs.

Dev reached out, trailing his fingers lightly over her
ankle. “Tansy, are you with us? It’s Dev and Rye. We’re here now, and we’ve
come to take care of you. We’ve come to take you home.”

The foot jerked and Tansy rocketed out of her hidey-hole,
launching herself at Dev with such force he tumbled onto his back. Rye crawled
over to untangle them and help Dev sit up. When it became obvious Tansy wasn’t
going to let go anytime soon, Rye bracketed them both with his arms and legs
and held on as tight as he dared.

His eyes burned, his chest ached and his arms and legs shook
as though he had a fever. His vision wavered in a watery blur and he couldn’t
quite get enough air into his lungs. He’d heard people describe some
experiences as a living nightmare, and he’d thought he understood what that
meant. The events of this afternoon proved just how wrong he’d been.

He kissed Tansy’s neck, stroked her arms, and because they
all needed the reassurance, he did the same for his denmate. Dev snuggled Tansy
closer, cupped Rye’s head, and they took their comfort from one another.

They remained like that for quite a while, but eventually
Zenbaylan spoke.
She’s back with us now.

Rye nuzzled her shoulder. “Tansy? Are you hurt?”

“No.” Her voice was quiet. “I feel like an idiot but I’m not
physically hurt.”

Dev didn’t move but Rye knew he was on high alert. “What
happened?”

She sighed, and Rye felt it all the way to his soul. “I was
looking at the stalls and a guy grabbed my wrist. He called me Lady Willersby
and he wore the colors of House Lockmehdyhn. I had this moment of panic. Everything
just stopped, and when it started again I was running. I heard him shout and I
thought he was giving chase, so I ran faster. I just ran.”

Rye slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed. “Next
time you run, you need to run to us, not from us.”

Dev grunted his agreement. “And for the sake of everyone’s
sanity, next time you’re in trouble, call for Fellescend or Zenbaylan.”

She flinched and then went utterly still. “Bloody hell. They’re
going to kill me, aren’t they?”

Rye nipped at her shoulder. “They’ll have to stand in line.
You ever scare us like that again and I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” He heard the hint of a smile in her voice.

“I don’t know. Something bad. So be scared—be very scared.”

She snorted and pulled his arm tighter around her waist. “Mmm.
Non-specific, generic threats. Very intimidating.”

He nipped her again, harder this time. It was difficult to
threaten a woman who had been traumatized and was desperately trying to heal,
especially when that woman owned him, body and soul.

He rubbed his cheek against the warmth of her shoulder. “Are
you ready to go home now?”

“Yes.”

Rye braced to let her up, but she didn’t move. “Tansy?”

“I think I need a bit longer. Is that okay?”

Dev snuggled her tighter. “Take all the time you need, honey.
We’re not going anywhere without you.”

Late that afternoon, Willersby Lockmehdyhn finished up the
last of his paperwork and laid his pen down with precise care. He rang for his
secretary, leaned back in the chair and congratulated himself on a good day’s
work.

Donas entered on almost silent feet and collected the outgoing
files and correspondence. But instead of quietly exiting, he came to stand in
front of Willersby’s large desk.

“Yes?”

“Your pardon, my lord, but Tam is still waiting to see you.”

Tam was little more than a footman, ordinarily someone who
would never be allowed entrance into Willersby’s study. However, the boy showed
an enormous amount of promise, and he was being groomed for much bigger and
better things. Tam had even spent some time in Allsgate as part of Willersby’s
personal entourage. Willersby had long recognized the value of personal
encounters with younger staff. While he’d made Tam wait half the day—he was
just a footman, after all—Willersby was prepared to give the young man the
benefit of the doubt. This time.

“Bring him in.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The lad entered, livery immaculate and not a hair out of
place despite the fact he’d been lingering in the hallway all afternoon.

Willersby gave him a sharp nod. “Tam.”

“My lord.” The boy’s bow was smooth and just a little deeper
than it needed to be.

“Donas said you insisted on seeing me personally and in
private.” The warning was unspoken but understood. If Tam’s reasons were
insufficient for this breach in protocol, he and every member of his family
would be looking for a new job by morning.

Tam jerked and nervously cleared his throat. “It’s not that
I insisted, my lord. It’s more that I thought this information was too
important for any ears but your own.”

“Go on.”

The boy moved forward a half step and dropped his voice to a
whisper. “It’s Lady Willersby, sir. I saw her in the market today…”

That was as much as Willersby heard before his head started
buzzing. Tam was still talking, but Willersby could hear nothing over the roar
of fury that gripped him right down to his bones. The whore was still alive,
brazen enough and stupid enough to step out into the open. And by doing so she’d
put a target on her back.

“Stop talking,” Willersby said to the boy. The air was
coming into his lungs hard and uneven, and it took him a few moments to get
himself under control. Once he’d smoothed out his breathing, he concentrated on
his heartbeat, slowing it down to a more normal rhythm. As soon as he’d regained
command of his body, he began to clear his mind, letting go of the clutter and
freeing himself to give Tam his full attention.

“So you saw Lady Willersby, tried to speak to her, and then
she ran. What happened next?”

“I followed her, my lord. When she looked at me she had such
a strange look in her eyes that I was worried for her safety. I wasn’t aware
she’d left the Residence and I couldn’t imagine what she’d been doing out on
her own at the market. But she’s quick.”

Willersby was intimately acquainted with his mistress’s physique,
and he had no doubt she could run, but Tam was young and fit.

“Did you catch her?”

“Almost.” The boy grimaced. “She got a head start on me but
she left a wake in the crowd easy enough to follow. I was gaining on her when
two Enforcers came out of nowhere and cut in front of me. They were chasing her
too, and their size made them easy to follow. When I finally tracked them down—”

The boy cut himself off in mid-sentence, flushed red and
sealed his lips together.

“Finish that thought.” Willersby made his voice hard enough
to cut.

Tam squirmed where he stood. “I’m sorry, my lord. When I
found them, all three were sitting on the ground and Lady Willersby was wedged
firmly between the Enforcers. They were…comforting her, and she wasn’t
protesting.”