BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) (14 page)

"How?" he whispered, his lip lifting to show his teeth in an iliran snarl.

"The iliri have abilities, sir, and I found mine.  I seem to be able to change.  I can take on the form I need at the time."

"So you decided to infiltrate me?" he asked, neither amused nor angry.  He simply asked.

"Not exactly.  I tripped.  That was honest.  I'd been looking for the others and found myself face first in your lap.  I tried to excuse myself a few times but never quite could."  She kept her sentences short, just simple explanations.  "I found myself losing sight of my mission a few times, and the hours slipped away from me."

"Me, too," he whispered, his eyes flicking to the ground while his mind replayed the memories.

"When I invited you to my room, I tried to convince myself that my orders made me do it, sir, but that's a lie.  I invited you to my room because I hoped that you'd take longer to figure it out."  She took a deep breath, then blurted, "I know I was out of line, and that as an iliri I had no right to do that, but," she took a deep breath, "I couldn't stop myself."

It was true.  It was all true and she knew he could smell it.  Dangling between them was an unspoken question: was she the only one to feel something that night?  His answer was to press his mouth softly into hers. 

Just a gentle and sweet kiss, nothing more.  She relaxed into his touch, feeling his skin, then it was over, teasing her.  A muffled complaint came from the back of her throat as he pulled away.  Looking up, she met pale green eyes.  Then she felt it.

A line of thought entered her mind, determined.  Rather than fighting him, she opened up, waiting for him to grab her memory of their night together. 

"I can't find it," he said.

"Here."  She guided him to the dark corner where she hid it.  His mind only tasted the surface before he broke off.

"It really was you?" he asked.

Timidly, she nodded.

Again, he pulled her against him.  This time, Sal let her mouth submit to his, and she savored the taste of him.  His tongue caressed hers, ignoring the danger of her teeth.  She wanted this, but he was too tense.  When her hand found the side of his face, Blaec shied away, breaking the contact.

"This can't happen, you know."  He made it a statement, but she still answered.

"I know, sir."  Their eyes met for a long time before Sal realized it must be said.  "Sir, if you want me to refuse the outfit, I still can.  The paperwork hasn't been processed.  I can find an excuse the men will believe."

"It wouldn't change anything between us, Sal."

"I know, but it might make life easier for you.  I betrayed you, and you don't need to be reminded of that each time you turn around."

"No one can let you down if you haven't been leaning on them," he quoted.  "You were right.  And you did not betray me.  Siana made it clear that she wouldn't be around long.  She told me blatantly that our relationship couldn't continue.  I accepted that when I agreed to come up to her – your – room.  This has changed something between us, but I doubt it's what you'd expect."

She waited for him to continue, feeling his mood lighten as he came to his decision.

"Sal, I'm not used to people getting one over on me.  You not only did that, but you also followed my orders to the letter and the spirit.  You learned about our secret trial, then you encouraged me to change it in a way that made both of us happy.  You kept this secret hidden and you showed no sign of what we shared.  All of this while you managed to complete the tasks I gave you, found an ability that is beyond priceless to our type of outfit, and on top of that, you eased the burden I refused to share with my men.

"No, Sal, the only thing this changes is how much I do respect you.  You
will
stay with the Blades, on one condition."  He smiled when he said it.

"Sir?"

"You may find me taking you up on your suggestion.  Siana made me realize that a long, lonely life is not what I want.  If I need an ear, will you lend me one?"

"Of course!"  Her mind spun.  This was not the reaction she'd expected.

"And please," he said, "wear this.  You chose a good chain for it and it should withstand what we put it though.  I think it would be good to remind both of us why you gave it to me."

He handed her the necklace, but rather than accept it, she turned and lifted her long, pale locks above her neck.  Blaec stepped close, his breath on her ear as he clasped it around her neck.  The opal fell just at the hollow of her throat.  The large stone would be visible above her uniform but not loose enough to slap around in her combat training.  She'd chosen it because it matched her natural eyes, convincing herself that it complimented a more formal outfit she'd anticipated using in her role as Siana.

"Can we tell the men?" LT asked when she released her hair and faced him.

She raised an eyebrow and found herself giggling. "That I seduced you?"

"No!"  He laughed.  "That you found your ability.  I'd planned to make Risk work you through a few of the common ones, hoping to trigger something.  Now that we know what it is, I can have him find ways to perfect your use of it."

Still giggling, she nodded.  "Sure,
that
I think you can tell them."

He turned to leave, but she dared to grab him before he opened the door.  "Blaec, I just..." she felt herself fumbling for words, "I want you to know it meant something to me.  I know you can't, but... the offer will always be there."

He seemed to change the subject.  "Did I tell you I went to meet Siana for lunch?  She'd already left, as you know, but I wanted to tell her why she seemed so familiar.  After thinking about her all day, I realized she reminded me of you.  She smelled like you.  In so many ways she was like you, but unlike you, she was safe and right there within my reach."

He turned back to the door, his hand on the knob, speaking with his back to her.  "And Sal," he said, not looking back, "I can't.  I don't want my men to think I'm using my rank for something like that.  I want them to respect what you are.  Maybe sometime later, in a few years, but not now, and not soon."  She heard him swallow.  "I want to, though.  It wouldn't be fair to anyone, but I do.  I have since I touched you that first day."

He finally turned, catching her eyes.  "You should never be ashamed of being iliri.  You are amazing.  When you stop trying to hide from the humans you're everything an iliri should be: proud, strong, and beautiful.  Sal," he smiled sadly and turned back to the door, "you're twice as beautiful as any human.  You're the kind of woman that men die for."

Before she could say anything else, he walked out.  As the door closed, she heard him call, "Training ground at 0800 sharp, Corporal!"

Inside, her heart couldn't decide if it was happy or breaking.

Chapter 17

The next morning, Sal made her way to the Black Blades' practice arena through the barns.  A group of men stood causally, leaning against the back of one building, watching her too closely.  The sight of a new soldier in black drew attention.  The stables had been abuzz with the news that the Blades had accepted a new recruit, but when she passed, they fell in behind her.

She counted four men.  All appeared to be stablehands.  She'd dealt with worse odds before, but it was a bad way to start her first day.  A few steps further down the alley, she turned into one of the busiest barns, ducking inside the corner.  Opening her mind, she felt Zep's presence as the closest to her.

Zep, I might be a bit late. I think I made some new friends
.  Before he could reply, she saw shadows darken the entrance and released the mental contact.

Hoping she was mistaken about their intent, Sal casually leaned just inside the door, easing her nerves.  The first of them walked past, a few steps into the barn, and paused with his back to her while the others caught up.  The third man noticed her. 

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Just killing time," she said blandly, watching as barn staff turned to look at the commotion.

A fourth joined them, and the first two turned to face her.  Standing so close, their anxiety wafted to her nose.  This was no accidental meeting.

"Can I help you?" she asked, prodding them.

"Yeah!" the first said, stepping closer, "You can get to work doing your job and scrub the aisle here."

"I'm sorry, that's your job, not mine."

"Like hell it ain't!" he snapped.  "Your kind doesn't deserve anything better.  Walking around in those black fatigues like you're someone important and shit?  I think you need a human to put you back in your place, bitch."

Anger flared. "Did you really just walk this far to tell me about your prejudices?  I have places to be."  She stood up to walk away, hoping it would be so easy.

Of course, it never was.  The humans' hatred for her kind made them irrational.  Her uniform, and all that it symbolized, didn't slow them at all.  Before she could even turn to the door, the man reached out and pulled her to face him.

"You may have slept your way into the Blades, but that doesn't make you a real soldier," he sneered.  "But you must be pretty damned good at it, and maybe I wanna see for myself what the fuss is about, fucking a scrubber.  Maybe you should show me some of those special tricks."

"Yeah, you aren't my type.  I like my men to smell like something other than shit, thanks." 

"You think your smart mouth is helping you any?  I'll show you where you can put it."  He tried to pull her to her knees.

Sal ducked out of his grip and stepped away, turning to the door, walking into the alley as if the men hadn't stopped her.  The four of them raced after her, catching up quickly, but Sal refused to run, hoping to look professional for the dozens of eyes watching the scene.  The first two men to reach her grabbed her on either side.

"Get your hands off of me," she said, calmly.

"Fuck you, whore." the one on her right said.  The one on her left just giggled nervously.

Patiently, she waited until the last two men were before her, then acted.  Yanking both of her arms away, she stepped back.  The sudden force made the giggling man lose his grip, and she easily pulled the other off his feet.  Seeing her break free, the other two rushed her.  Sal kicked the first in the stomach and danced to the side, letting the second dart past.  When he turned to come back, like an enraged bull charging, she stepped into his path, grabbed his arm, and tossed him over her shoulder, putting him onto the ground as well.  The first guy tried to stand, but the giggling one scurried into the alley.  Sal let him go.

With three men now facing her, only true force would stop the assault.  Before the one closest could get to his feet, she kicked him solidly in the diaphragm, knocking the wind from him, then turned to the man now standing.

"Do you really want more of this?" she asked.

His answer was another brutish charge.  These men were not soldiers, just common idiots.  Their movements had none of the grace training offered, and Sal could put them on the ground repeatedly.  She stepped to the side and, this time, kicked out at his knee.  The hit was hard enough to make it fail him, but not hard enough to cause permanent damage.  She defended herself with nothing more than moves taught to every soldier in their initial training.

Movement caught her eye: another stablehand running into the fray.  Sal turned to face him, expecting the worst, but he yanked one of her attackers off balance by the sleeve of his shirt, pulling the man against him. Looping his arms through the attacker's elbows, the stablehand secured him.  As the assailant struggled, the young man looked at her and Sal recognized Tilso, the kind boy from her first trip into the barns.  Dozens of people were now in the alley, all of them looking at her.

She checked the two men on the ground.  Neither looked like he would be moving any time soon.

Trying to stand proudly, she asked, "Does anyone know these men?"

Eyes refused to meet hers and voices muttered quietly. 

"Let me try that again," Sal said, reminding herself that she not only had the rank to make these demands, she also had to think of the reputation of her unit.  Years of being conditioned that humans deserved respect warned her to simply let it go, but Blaec's words from the night before fueled her pride.  "Who are you, and what makes you think you can assault a Black Blade?" Sal asked the men on the ground.

The sound of hooves made their way through the press of bodies.  A dark horse pushed the spectators to the side as Zep arrived on his mare, Cessa.  Across his saddle, the giggling man struggled.  Behind him, LT and Arctic sat their mounts quietly.  At their stirrups, a handful of darkly dressed soldiers glared.

Risk, Shift, Cyno, and Razor made their way into the space around Sal and her attackers.  Razor walked over to her while the other three secured the defeated men.  Cyno rested a hand on Tilso's arm, tensing for a second before taking the man from the stablehand.  LT, with a scowl on his face, took in the staff around him before nodding for Razor to address the crowd.

"I believe my Blade asked if anyone knew these men," Razor said in his parade voice.  His attitude made it clear that there would be repercussions if no one spoke up.

"Sir," Tilso said, "they work over in barn 12."  He gestured to the other side of the stable.  "There's no reason they should've been over here, not even for a break."

"Thank you," Razor said to the young man.  "Would you please have their superior meet me at the officer's hall?"

"Yes, sir!"  Tilso immediately left through the barn, in the direction he'd indicated.

LT edged his horse into the center of the crowd and turned him lazily, addressing everyone watching the commotion.  "I would like to make it clear that Corporal Luxx is now a Black Blade.  She enjoys all of the respect that title commands.  While I understand that not all of you agree with our choice of recruit, the day you can best any of us in combat, including Luxx, is the day you can tell me how to run my outfit."

The crowd muttered, a few heads nodded in agreement, and a few eyes looked at the ground, refusing to meet the Lieutenant's piercing gaze.

"The Stables at Stonewater has been our base of operations for over two years now, but if I do not feel as though my soldiers are welcome here, we will gladly move.  There are many places closer to the front lines that would be proud to host us and call us their own.  I will not tolerate my soldiers being treated like second class citizens, not even my newest recruit.  Is that understood?"

A murmur of assent spread through the crowd.  If the Black Blades pulled their operations from these stables, over half the staff would lose their jobs.  The base of any elite outfit thrived due to the influx of soldiers, the tourists that were drawn, and the requisitions that naturally followed a specialist group.  At a nod from LT, the Blades holding men directed them toward the officer's hall, and Zep followed, the man still crushed across the pommel of his saddle like a sack of grain. 

Razor patted her shoulder and thought,
Go with LT and Arctic,
as he turned to follow Zep.

Sal made her way to the officers, both mounted, and Arctic reached down.
Grab my hand, place your foot on mine, and swing up behind me
.

When her fingers closed on his wrist, he pulled her up enough to allow her foot to reach.  The momentum carried her up behind him. 

"I will not have this conversation with the staff again," The Lieutenant warned before he cued his horse.

Hang on,
Arctic
thought as he squeezed his mare into a smooth canter. 

The crowd parted easily before them.  With LT in the lead on his black, the trio made their way through the barn alleys to an enclosed arena at the edge of the compound.  LT slid off his horse and pushed the door open, allowing Arctic and Sal to enter before pulling it closed behind them.

Arctic twisted in the saddle to offer his arm.  Clasping her palm around it, she again put her foot on his and slid off the side of the horse.  The Black Blades had a fondness for large mounts, and while she waited to meet the ground, Sal realized how far down it really was.  Arctic easily dropped behind her.

"You know this is going to keep happening, right, Sal?" LT asked, his horse standing hip-shot beside him.

"In all honestly, sir, I didn't think about it.  That sort of thing is pretty common for me."  She shrugged.  "Between being female, short, and iliri, I seem to be a target for the type that hate my kind."

"Our kind," Arctic said beside her.  "Or did you forget so quickly?"

"Well, yes and no, Arctic.  Sir, while you get the benefits of your iliri ancestry, I get the prejudices.  Your dark hair, Razor's dark skin, LT's green eyes... except for Risk, and maybe Cyno, most of you can blend into a crowd."

"She has a point," LT grumbled.  "No matter how much we've been harassed in our lives for being too light, or told that our mothers must have slept with the staff – or whatever else people seem to think is insulting – we're still seen as human.  Only Sal and Risk feel the full weight of discrimination."

"So how do we stop it?" Arctic asked.

"You can't," Sal answered before the Lieutenant could speak up.  "Nothing you can do will make others like me.  When they see my white skin and hair, these strange ears, and worst of all, my slit eyes, they know I'm different, and people hate different.  Just..." she paused and looked at LT.  "Just forgive me when it happens, sir.  I promise I will always act with respect for the outfit, but there will be more situations like this."

Both officers nodded at her. 

"I don't know how you do it, Sal," LT said.  "If you hadn't been so calm, I would have ridden into that crowd swinging."

"But you can't do that," she reminded him.  "They're already saying I slept my way into the outfit.  If you start treating me like I'm some damsel in distress, they'll be sure of it, and that won't help the reputation the Blades have worked so hard to get."

"That's a load of crap!" Arctic hissed.

"You know we treat Risk the same, right, Sal?" LT asked, as the others slipped in from their excursion with the thugs.

"No, sir, but I assumed you did.  I don't think you're pampering me, but I also know that no one worried about Risk sleeping his way in."  She tossed a too casual glance up at the Lieutenant and heard Risk chuckle behind her.

LT blushed subtly and laughed.  "Fair point.  I think we'll just let you deal with it for now, little demon, on the condition that you let us know when you need back up.  Deal?"

"Thank you, sir."

"With that said, we have work to get through this morning," the Lieutenant said.  "Sal, I have four weeks to get you ready and get us back into working shape.  We have a mission."