A Warlord's Lady (24 page)

‘Cain?’ she said, as something tingled on the back of her neck.

‘Sabra.’ She could hear regret in his voice, thick as mud. ‘I didn’t get you flowers.’

Disappointment slashed through her gut and she bit back a wounded groan. ‘You didn’t?’ Fear swiftly rose to replace the disappointment.

‘No.’

‘Oh, then who?’

She could hear Cain rub his chin through the telephone line. ‘I don’t know, but Sabra…do not open that door again.’

Ice ran through her and she physically shivered.

‘Please tell me you’re coming back…there could be anyone out there waiting to catch me.’ Her heart hammered.

‘I…can’t,’ he grated.

She was silent with disbelief.

He’s not going to protect me? After all this hoo-ha about loving me?

Cain waited a moment before speaking. ‘So long as you don’t invite anyone in, you’ll be safe. The apartment is well warded. There is a laser light attached to the door keys if a shadow somehow finds you. Believe me, Sabra, I’d come immediately to get you but…’ He sighed. ‘I’ve got to protect the compound, we’ll soon be under attack. Our Rakshasa scouts have gone AWOL.’

Sabra didn’t know what a Rakshasa scout was, but was certain she’d be of more use helping him than wasting away in an apartment waiting for someone to come and attack her.

‘Take me with you,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t leave me here, not if…’ She stared at the flowers with a creeping sense of unease.

‘It is even more dangerous in Laos now. You will be safest where you are.’ Sabra could hear him trying hard to convince her, but it just made her feel hollow.

‘If your prophecy is real, then you’re
nothing without me.
Let me come.
’

There was another long pregnant pause, and Sabra could sense his resolve weakening.

‘Sabra — ’ he began, and she felt her stomach knot. She ignored it.

‘Please, don’t’
Sabra,
me,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to hear excuses. You can’t just hide me here. I want to be
with
you. You talk about prophecy and love but are treating me like one of…your kept women. We’re meant to be partners.’

Her accusation was met with stony silence.

‘Have you nothing to say to that?’ Her voice croaked a little.

She could hear him suck through his teeth. ‘I just want you safe and you’re safest where you are. Yes, someone has discovered you there, but it’s unlikely — highly unlikely — that anyone will be able to get you.
As long as you stay in the apartment.
There has already been a serious breach of security here. I’ve lost the Rakshasa, and I don’t know if I — ’

Sabra interrupted. ‘There has been a serious breach of security here, too. I might be able help you. Here I’m just waiting…’ Sabra reminded him.

His resolve seemed to falter. ‘That apartment is warded and the thriae would have said something if you were in danger. Please, Sabra…’ he faded off, but it was too late — she’d won.

Sabra bit her lip and waited for his next words.

‘All right. I’ll come and get you,’ he said.

***

Sabra didn’t have much time to celebrate her win. Within a few minutes Cain was standing beside her. He looked a little cross, but his eyes softened as they lit on her though his scowl stayed in place. She didn’t mind because the scowl made him look even sexier.

‘Thank you for coming,’ she said, throwing a cautious glance at the thriae who sat near the lamp watching them carefully.

Cain nodded, then gestured to the table. ‘So, these flowers,’ he said, walking past her. Sabra noticed he looked tired, but not as bad as he should considering the amount of energy he was expending with all his travel.

She nodded.

He studied the flowers for a moment and touched a blood red petal with his dark hand. He closed his eyes as if trying to get a sense from whence they came. After a long moment, he shook his head in clear frustration, picked up the bouquet and threw it in the bin.

He turned and looked at her. His heavy eyes slowly dragged themselves down her body.

‘You’ll need to dress for the jungle.’

Sabra could feel his gaze linger on her breasts, straining against the fabric of her top. She gnawed on her lip. ‘I didn’t exactly pack my safari suit.’ It was a lame joke, but she was rewarded with a small smile. In a shimmer of sweet magic, camouflage pants and a black tee-shirt replaced her other clothes.

‘Thank you,’ she said again.

He nodded, and stepped closer towards her, extending open arms. She could sense the hesitation in him, as if he feared her rejection.

I’ve never rejected him,
she thought, slightly confused.

His arms, big and strong, wrapped themselves around her and she sunk into him with a slow exhalation of pleasure. ‘We do not have much time. Jürgen and Christy are waiting.’

Sabra groaned inwardly. Of all Cain’s guards she disliked Christy even more than Jürgen.

He looked over at the thriae. ‘I will bring her back if it becomes too dangerous,’ he told them, and though Sabra couldn’t see them from this distance, she suspected they nodded.

‘Danger is everywhere,’ Hexa replied cryptically.

Sabra didn’t notice, as she was still stuck on the fact that Christy would be waiting.

‘Christy? Really?’ she asked Cain, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow and his mouth twitched with another smile. ‘Really,’ he nodded, his lips brushing the top of her head, and then they were gone.

***

They arrived moments later in Cain’s den. Sabra was stunned by the noise around her for a moment. The air, fresh and cool a moment ago, was hot and as thick as soup, but she inhaled the scent of Laos greedily.

Christy and Jürgen were arguing to her left. Though their banter ceased as they noticed her arrival, she felt herself squirm awkwardly from Cain’s embrace.

Cain released her as they arrived and Sabra turned to see Jürgen and Christy staring at him, their faces ridiculous masks of attempted nonchalance.

‘Sabra is coming with us,’ he said after a moment.

Jürgen controlled his surprise minutely better than Christy whose chiselled features curled into a deep angry frown.

‘Is that wise, boss?’ she asked, her feral eyes flicking between Sabra and Cain.

To her surprise, Cain said nothing but looked down calmly at Sabra.

This is some kind of test. If I am the woman he believes me to be, then I should be able to stand up against his guards.

The thought made her need to pee.

She gnawed at her lip, while struggling to hold Christy’s disgusted gaze. She knew she needed to do
something
and preferably do something
impressive.
Sabra felt her skin colour and she fought the urge to look away. The
old
Sabra may have shrunk back from the arrogance and ferocity behind that stare, but she wouldn’t do it now.

As she plundered her brain for something to do or say, she sized up Christy. The enormous woman next to Jürgen had always been her least favourite of Cain’s guards. The werewolf’s hair had been cropped but her perpetual snarl was still in place. Her arm was clearly injured and hung like a dead snake down her side. She found herself wondering what had happened.

Cain had given her this opportunity to prove herself, and all doubts aside, she wanted to convince
herself
as much as him that she
was
something special. ‘What are you looking at?’ Sabra eventually asked. It wasn’t perhaps the most original of challenges, but none the less, it was what came to mind.

Christy snarled and revealed her sharp canine teeth. ‘You’ve caused too much trouble.’ Her voice was like ice on gravel.

Sabra felt herself quell slightly and wanted more than anything to take a reassuring glance at Cain, but she didn’t.

As for Christy’s accusation, Sabra had nothing to say on that. Trouble trailed her like a bad fart these days.

‘You going to run again?’ Christy asked. ‘You going to shame our warlord
again
?’

Sabra stared at her. ‘What I do is none of your concern,’ Sabra retorted with as much strength as she could. She knew picking an argument with this female behemoth was possibly not a good idea. Sabra only reached Christy’s shoulder in height, and looked like uncooked butter pudding in comparison to the buff muscular figure of Cain’s female guard.

‘Isn’t it?’ Christy hissed, as she took a step closer to Sabra. ‘We’ve possibly lost the compound because of you.’

‘Not just because of me,’ she said in her defence.

‘Christy.’ Cain’s voice sliced through the conversation. He glared at the werewolf, his brows furrowed, and the thunderous rage that was never far from his eyes flashed into life.

‘It’s okay,’ Sabra soothed, and rested her hand gently on his forearm. ‘Leave this to me.’

Cain stopped advancing, but his eyes remained heavy and dangerous. Christy’s crew and the others watched with wide eyes.

Sabra knew then that Christy was making a show of dominance and neither Cain nor she could leave it unpunished.

Within a second, Sabra willed her ability into action. Each time it seemed to get easier. She’d practiced with the thriae earlier in the day and found if she focussed enough, she could do it quickly and actually target individuals, though the ability was still not reliable.

She knew her ability had worked when Christy’s eyes widened in surprise, and her head turned from left to right as she rapidly tried to spot where Sabra had gone.

A naughty thought slipped into Sabra’s mind. She released Cain’s arm. She saw him glance down at her and was pleased to realise that she was still visible to everyone else. She quietly walked up to Christy.

The werewolf was sniffing at the air wildly, trying to scent Sabra.

‘Where did she go? How?’ Christy growled, but no one said a word.

Sabra stood before Christy. The woman was even more massive up close and smelled like mint and sweat. Heat and hostility radiated off her like an electric shield. Sabra reached up carefully with her hand. The hair on her arms prickled. She ignored it and brought her thumb and index finger up to the werewolf’s nose and gave it a strong, tight tweak.

Christy jumped back with a howl, and clutched at her face. ‘Whaddafuck?’

Cain laughed softly, but Jürgen looked amazed.

Relief flooded through Sabra like cool water, and carefully taking a few steps away from the confused werewolf she returned to being visible to Christy.

The werewolf narrowed her eyes and lowered her hands from her nose. ‘How did you do that?’

Sabra shrugged. ‘I’m not as useless as you think,’ she said, and without further word turned her back on Christy and walked back to Cain’s side.

Sabra felt Cain’s eyes burning into her, and her cheeks flushed rainbow in embarrassment.

‘Well played,’ he murmured, and for a brief moment his hand ran down the length of her arm in a faint caress. Pleasure bubbled up through her veins.

***

Cain tore his concentration away from Sabra. It was difficult though. Having her back in his den after all these months made him slightly mad with lust for her. Though he had to admit, her little trick with Christy had more than impressed him. Her talents with her ability were increasing exponentially.

Eventually, he turned his attention to Christy again; her angular cheeks were flushed with what he assumed was embarrassment and her arm still hung like a dead thing. Both the werewolf and the Aufhocker were standing back, avoiding his eyes.

A worrisome thought intruded into his mind.

I may have lost their respect. Their bickering has got to stop.
The thought made his stomach revolt but his heart harden.

‘How is your arm, Christy?’

‘It’s fine,’ she replied stiffly, bringing her uninjured arm over and protectively wrapping it about the other.

‘Raise your hand then,’ Cain said coolly. For a moment he thought she may try to be a smart aleck and raise the uninjured one, but she didn’t.

He felt Sabra stiffen beside him as Christy’s face contorted for a brief second when she tried to lift her injured arm. A small surprised gasp leaked from Christy when she failed to raise it. She hesitated and looked down at the arm with an expression of bewilderment, but the look was smoothed over quickly by a carefully neutral one.

‘I asked you to raise it, Christy,’ Cain repeated, unable to keep the cruel bite from his tone. ‘Can you promise me you will be able to crawl through jungle, fight enemy forces, protect our territory and all those who seek safe harbour in it, with your arm in that condition?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she muttered, quickly looking away.

‘Really?’ Cain was unconvinced. ‘Then raise it.’

Cain watched as Christy’s face turned red with the effort and this time a real groan of pain escaped, and it took a fraction longer for Christy to mask her face.

Cain sucked air between his teeth and shook his head. He set his face in a hard implacable mask, one that had never failed to scare his subordinates.

‘I can’t,’ Christy whispered and fell quiet. Her boots shuffled on the floor. She was lost without her hulking crew behind her, Cain realised. It was just another in the ever-growing list of things he’d overlooked in his obsession with Sabra and the damn prophecy.

‘Answer me,’ he commanded.

‘It’s not good,’ she said, her voice low and gravelly with resignation.

‘And why isn’t it good?’ Cain asked, casting a warning glance in Jürgen’s direction to ensure he didn’t interfere.

Jürgen, however, had learned his lesson in the cell and remained silent and impassive.

Sabra stayed motionless, observing, and hopefully taking mental notes. He wanted her to know that his men and women obeyed him and respected him. He took a glance at her, and she looked impressed.

Good,
Cain thought as returned his gaze to Christy. Her head fell forward in a gesture similar to a chagrined child.

‘Jürgen’s dislocated my shoulder. I can’t get it back in place on my own,’ she admitted.

Cain nodded, and looked at the both of them, ‘I’m only going to say this once, and it applies to both of you.
This shit has got to stop.
’