Perfect Misfits (17 page)

Her ear twitched at the sound of brush rustling. Automatically, her head turned in its direction. While she couldn’t see anything, she had a hunch.

“Spitter, I know your there,” she called out.

With some grunts, the little troll stepped from behind the tall grass.

“How did you know it was Spitter?”

For whatever reason, a sense of joy spread over her face upon seeing the disgusting little guy. “A hunch, I guess.”

When he came forward, Tempest could see the swollen red marks and dried blood over his face. She stood and walked toward him. Although tall she wasn’t, Spitter was much shorter than she. Tempest bent down in front of him. “Spitter, what happened to you?”

He hung his head, kicking at the dirt with his overly large bare feet. “Vicasha wasn’t very happy with me.”

She shook her head. “It’s never right to hit something,” she said softly. “And you should certainly never feel embarrassed because somebody treated you poorly.”

He looked at her sheepishly.

“Spitter, stay here,” she commanded.

She returned with a cloth and water. “Sit over there.” She pointed to the stump beside Rogue.

He did as she asked. Wet cloth in hand, she lifted his chin and gently wiped at the broken skin. Spitter winced, pulling away. “Ouch, that hurts.”

“Sorry, Spitter. I’m sure it does, but it will feel much better when we have you cleaned up.”

The cloth slipped, and before she knew it, her fingers touched his face. She squinted her eyes shut, preparing for the visions to come, but after a few moments, let out a breath and opened her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Tempest?”

“I…I…touched you,” she stammered.

He didn’t seem to care, and she caught him staring at her hair, “Spitter’s hungry, Tempest. I haven’t eaten anything since the last time I saw you.”

Dumbfounded, she took a breath. “We’ll see what we can do about that when you’re cleaned up.”

Rinsing the cloth, she dabbed away until his face was clear of blood and dirt. On her haunches, she sat back looking at him. “My goodness. You actually look like a little boy troll underneath all that dirt.”

He smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now can I have some hair?” he asked with excitement.

She stood, placing her hands on her hips, and stared down at him. “Just a minute.” She returned to the cabin. She loosened a braid, and with the knife Ryder must have left on the table, sliced off a chunk.

His beady little eyes gleamed with happiness, and he reached out, prepared to snatch it away from her.

“No!” She pulled her hand back. “Don’t snatch, Spitter. You should always ask nicely, and don’t grab. Wait until things are given to you.”

He kicked at the stump, obviously frustrated, but eventually, he held out his hand. “Please, may I have some?”

She leaned forward and the placed the locks in his grimy palm.

Immediately, he shoved it in his mouth and swallowed.

She shook her head. “
Thank you
is always a good idea, too.”

“Okay. Spitter says thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So where is Vicasha now?”

He smiled. “Dead.”

Blood rushed from her face as she repeated the word. “Dead?”

“Yup, dead. You killed her.” His smile deepened.

“That’s not possible,” she stuttered. “I didn’t even touch her.”

He jumped off the stump. “Why are you sad? Vicasha is mean. She hurt Spitter and the others.”

“Why do you think I killed her?”

He pointed to her chest, “You have the jewel.”

Her hand flew to her chest to cover the crescent moon shape. “I remember the horrible swamp and those black slithering creatures all over my body.” Her whole body shuddered.

“Yes,” Spitter acknowledged. You should have died, but instead you found her jewel.” He rubbed his hands together.

It all came crashing back to her. The creatures, the tree, the orb she’d found within the tree, and the jewel that magically flew to her chest. But then she’d let go, unable to hang on.

Spitter cowered while looking up into the sky. “The giant flying creature picked you up and flew away. I guessed you’d come here if you were alive. Spitter doesn’t have anywhere to go. The others are dying.” He shook his head and stared at the ground.

Tempest, stop being selfish! You’re only thinking of yourself. Others are dying, and poor Spitter has no home.

She frowned, but eventually smiled at him. “Would you like to live with Rogue and I?”

He rubbed his chin. “Does he have to live with us?” He pointed to Rogue.

“Yes, of course!”

“Why?” Spitter asked with a pouting lip.

“Well, because I love him.”

She could see he tried to understand what it all meant. “Does he love you?” He tilted his head to the side.

She smiled. “Yes, he does love me.”

He paced back and forth in front of her, and then stopped and looked up at her. “So, if you love somebody, does that mean they will love you back?”

She swallowed hard. Her thoughts turned to Ryder and his reaction when she told him she loved him. “No. Unfortunately, loving somebody does not mean they will love you back.”

He pulled on his long ear. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay. I don’t understand, either. Love isn’t as easy as I thought it was.”

“I think Spitter will love you.”

Unable to stop herself, she broke out in laughter. “We’ll see about that.”

“I don’t know what’s funny about what I said,” he said, emphatically placing his hands on his tiny waist.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“Oh.”

Her thoughts turned to Fedor and her love for Rogue. “Sometimes when you love somebody or something, you do things that don’t make sense. Spitter, if you wish to live with Rogue and myself, we have to travel to the cold part of the mountain, and Fedor will be there.”

He jumped back away from her with a shocked look on his face. “No, Tempest. Fedor is a bad man. He is just like Vicasha. We can’t go there.”

She pulled at the sleeve of her shirt, uneasy about the thought. “It isn’t an option for me. I just wanted you to know how it will be for us, if you choose to come with Rogue and I.”

He resumed pacing. “I will go,” he decided, nodding his head.

“Another thing, Spitter. There will be rules, and if I ask you to do something, you must be polite. I will try to do the same in return.”

“Not sure what that means, but I’ll try.”

“Okay, it’s a deal.” she nodded her acknowledgement.

Spitter jumped forward and latched on to her legs, hugging her. “I’m glad I won’t be alone.”

As if the sun had gone behind a giant cloud, a shadow fell over the two of them followed by a large gust of wind.

Ryder and the other gargoyle landed softly on the ground not far from them.

Spitter squealed and ran for the bushes.

She could see Ryder’s eyes follow him through the grass.

“That troll is bad news.” His eye glowed red, and he adjusted the patch over the other.

She titled her head way up to look at him.

Gods, he’s magnificent
.

Her heart broke in two with the emotions threatening to engulf her. The only thing she wanted to do was run to him and wrap her arms around his legs. It was impossible, she realized. Her sentiments were unreturned, and the pain she felt in her heart hurt worse than any vision she’d ever experienced.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “He’s not bad. He’s been abused by Vicasha for far too long, and has nowhere to go. The others like him—the other misfits—are dying.”

Ryder glanced over his shoulder at Ashton. “Ashton, this is Tempest. Tempest, this is one of the other gargoyles from the squadron.”

Cautiously, she leaned to the side, peering around Ryder to see him. He was a giant, not unlike Ryder, but certainly not as large. Ashton stepped forward, and she stepped away from him.

Ryder held out his arm to stop Ashton’s step. “She can’t be touched, Ashton.”

“Oh.”

“Hello, Ashton. It’s nice to meet you,” she greeted.

“It’s quite the world you live in here.” He shook his head.

“You can say that again,” she agreed, and then called for Spitter. “Spitter, you can come out. The gargoyles won’t hurt you.”

He didn’t appear right away, but eventually stuck his head out from the side of a tree. “They are scary, Tempest.”

“That’s not polite. I used to think you were scary.”

He slowly proceeded forward, coming to stand beside her.

Ryder growled, and Spitter jumped behind her, grabbing onto her legs.

This time, she glared at Ryder. “That was not polite of you, either.”

His mouth fell open. “He’s touching you.”

“Yes, it appears this troll can touch me, as well. Can you put your wings away so you don’t look so intimidating?”

Both of them did as she asked, folding their wings up against their backs. “Tempest, I believe I know where the second key is,” Ryder stated.

She frowned. “What keys?”

He waved his hand at her chest. “Jewels.”

Her eyes widened. “Where is it?”

“Fedor has them in an ice cabinet within the mountain.”

She shivered outwardly. The time had come. “I see.”

“I tried to grab it, but I couldn’t.”

Spitter jumped into the conversation. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

“Because killing Fedor would kill Tempest,” he growled.

Her heart sank. Could he be kidding? He must be kidding. She couldn’t be linked to Fedor that way. Finding her voice, she spoke. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

None of it mattered; she’d already made up her mind. “I wish to see Fedor,” she demanded, holding her chin high.

Ryder glared at her. “Definitely not!”

She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “You can take us, or I’ll walk, myself.”

“Have you lost your mind? If you walk in there, you’ll be giving him exactly what he wants.”

“This is my decision, Ryder, not yours.”

“Perhaps she can retrieve the jewel,” Ashton chimed in.

“Yes, she did before,” Spitter said with excitement.

Ryder stormed away from them, letting out a giant roar of frustration.

“Let’s go,” he practically yelled.

“Wait.” She stopped him. “I need Rogue.” Her eyes darted to Spitter, who for a moment looked like he could cry. “And Spitter.”

“You are the most infuriating pixie I’ve ever met,” Ryder spewed. “We don’t need to take them.”

“You’re wrong, Ryder. I do need them.”

He spun away from her. “Ashton, can you manage both of them?”

Ashton groaned outwardly. “You owe me.”

“Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ryder held Tempest in his arms while they flew from the warmth of the sun to the frigid snow-capped mountain. He pulled her closer, not wanting her to feel the cold, and because there was no place in the world he’d rather her be other than in his arms.

Something in her demeanor had changed. It happened after they’d made love the last time and she professed her love for him. Inwardly, he scolded himself for being the cold-assed jerk most knew him to be. She hadn’t deserved that, but her response shocked and terrified him. Now he wondered.

Could I live a somewhat normal life with her back in Levare? Would it be possible?

The answers were still unclear. However, one fact would remain—when they did leave this hellish place, he would never be able let her go. The thought of her with any other guy brought a tidal wave of emotions washing over him.

Up ahead, the entrance to the cave shone with a bright light, not at all like only hours before. He circled cautiously.

The decrepit bastard must be up to something. I don’t like it.

Fanning his wings wide, he slowed their descent and landed. He continued to hold Tempest, and felt her shiver. “I’ve got you,” he whispered in her ear.

Ashton landed behind him and placed Rogue’s immobile form on the ice. Spitter jumped from his back and cowered behind his massive leg.

Ryder squinted, cursing his one eye that took longer than normal to adjust to the light. In the large throne sat Fedor, wearing a heavy red cloak. The arrogant look on the wizard’s face made him want to knock out whatever teeth were left in his mouth.

“This is bad, Tempest. We should leave now. We can’t stay here,” Spitter said in a hurry, still hiding behind Ashton’s leg.

Tempest squirmed. “I’m fine, Ryder. Please put me down.”

He gently set her on the ice packed ground. “I don’t trust him.”

Fedor stepped from the throne. With his hands clasped behind his back, he moved a few feet closer to them and stopped.

“I knew you’d return.” He glared at Tempest.

“I’d never return for you,” she spat.

Fedor shrugged his shoulders. “Too bad.” Yanking on his robe, he collected it up and moved toward the ice cabinet.

“You’ve never been in this room, Tempest, but I’m sure you must feel the draw.” He spun and faced them. “Don’t let me stop you.” He spread his arms wide, bowing in front of the cabinet.

Ryder could feel her heart pounding. “I…what is it?” She moved like a puppet with deliberate steps toward him and the cabinet.

“Back away from the crystals, Fedor,” Ryder commanded.

“My pleasure.”

“Tempest, he’s making this suspiciously easy.”

She continued forward without hesitation until she reached the glowing ice.

Ryder moved to her side. “I swear, if this is a trick, I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you could die.”

Unexpectedly, a bright-red crystal floated forward, twirling in the air.

“I hope she knows what she’s doing, boss?” Ashton asked.

Her hands flew to her chest, where she yanked on the collar, ripping the shirt open to expose the mark. Immediately, Ryder cringed, closing his claws over his own scar, which now began to tingle.

The icicle turned from red to blue to purple, and the intensity of the colors grew all the while it spun faster and faster.

Tempest closed her eyes and swayed. Ryder placed a hand on her arm. At that moment, the icicle exploded with shards of ice flying in all directions. Everyone ducked, with the exception of Tempest.