Days of High Adventure (12 page)

Words failed him. Eric just stared at her for a moment, stopped cold by that beautiful, fearless face. Everything before now had been a matter of running, hiding, fighting or otherwise surviving. Only since getting to the city had they found a moment to catch their breath, and now here they were, together and alone and very much alive.

He knew it was the most dangerous thing he had ever done or likely ever do, but there was no way he could ever forgive himself for not trying. Eric leaned in to kiss her.

Fallon’s lips met his with instant hunger. Her hands were on his shoulders immediately, grabbing him fiercely as she devoured his kiss. A moment later, she was in his lap, still fiercely kissing him as she ran her clawing fingers over his arms and his back.

She had his blood up in no time. Fallon attacked him with all the same energy she showed in battle. It was as infectious as her laugh and her confidence. She made him crazy in all the best ways. Eric’s hand slipped up her back, holding her body against his before he grabbed her neck and firmly twisted around to pull her down onto her back on the bed. One moment she sat in his lap; the next, she was on her back. Their lips were locked together the entire time.

The only snag in Eric’s plan was the fact that it left his gut practically impaled on the hilt of the sword still in its sheath on her belt. He groaned, pulling off of her as she laughed at him.

“I think we can fight this one without blades,” Fallon said. She smoothly undid her belt from its rings, looking in his eyes with an expectant grin the entire time. Her sword and belt fell to the floor next to the bed with a thunk.

Eric held her gaze for a long moment. One hand ran through her black hair, the other still sliding up and down her back. He felt her undo his belt without breaking their shared stare. “You’re pretty good at that,” he noted.

“I’ve thought it through quite a bit,” Fallon admitted. She tugged at his tunic, slipping it free from his shoulders. Her grin only got wider as she looked him over, running her hand over his pecs and his flat, tight stomach. Below that was a hardness she liked even more than the rest. “And this,” she added.

Fallon
had his cutoffs unbuttoned before he knew it. Something about the motion had her smiling, and then Eric caught on: it wasn’t as if anyone else in these lands had similar pants. Though zippers might not be terribly complicated, it wasn’t as if she’d ever seen one before he came along. Clearly, she had given this some thought. Fallon tugged the remains of his jeans away with a triumphant grin.

The blade fell from her hand. She wrapped her fingers around his
shaft then, stroking it slowly and shamelessly. She tugged at his hair with her other hand, pulling him down onto the bed beside her. Fallon straddled him, looking down at him invitingly without releasing her grip.

Eric’s hands caressed her tightly-muscled legs. His fingers slipped around the crude underwear beneath her tunic, then pulled in opposite directions to rip it apart. Fallon only laughed and kept stroking him. Her eyes danced as Eric pushed her tunic up from her sides. She released him only long enough to slip her arms under the simple outfit’s short sleeves. Her hand had found his sex again before Eric had it up over her shoulders and over her head.

He amazed at the sight of her naked body. She was more beautiful and far more feminine than he had imagined. “You like what you see?” she asked softly.

“I do,” Eric smiled. “I really do.”

“You have that look,” she accused playfully.

“What look?”

“You wish to say something you know will be stupid.”

He laughed. “How do you...” Eric shook his head, reaching out his hands to slip them up her sides and then touch her breasts. Fallon smiled approvingly, enjoying his touch, but waited for his silly question. “You don’t need to wear anything to support these?”

Fallon blinked. “Support?”

“Yeah, I mean...” She was certainly well-endowed. Eric had figured she wore some sort of primitive bra. Now he stared in wonder. “Shouldn’t these sag without support?”

“Do all women in your country have weak breasts?” Fallon asked.

It made him laugh. He wanted to crawl all over her, but he honestly wanted to stare for awhile, too. Fallon was hard-bodied and lean without bulk. He had seen enough of her arms and legs to have a good idea of how she would look, but even so, he was thrilled at just how feminine she really was. Even the outline of her abs, rather than turning Eric off, looked incredibly hot.

Fallon released her grip. She sat fully upright. “Take me,” she dared him.

He didn’t know whether to be stunned or thrilled. He opted for the latter. Eric surged up, trying to grab her arms. She fought him off with a grin that went from ear to ear, shoving him back a little without really trying. Eric wrapped an arm around her waist, caught hold of her wrist, and flung his companion back down onto the bed.

She wasn’t really fighting him. He knew it. She put up exactly enough resistance to drive him wild. Fallon allowed kisses, but retaliated with soft, playful bites. She clawed at his back, pulled at his hair, growled and laughed all at once. Eric’s previous experiences had always involved a lot of gentle caresses, soft kisses and murmured affection. Instead, Fallon made him work for it in a very different manner, and along the way got him incredibly turned on.

The turning point came when he finally managed to get both his legs between hers. Rather than fighting harder, Fallon only looked at him with wild, excited eyes as he
pinned her wrists to the bed and spread her legs apart with his knees.

Fallon let out a pleasured breath as
he moved against her. “You’ll have to aim better than that,” she taunted him. Then she shuddered as he got the angle right. Much of the resistance went out of her wrists. “Oh yes,” she gasped. “There. More. Harder...
take me
, damn you!”

Eric thrust into her hard. Fallon cried out, half in pain and half in joy. He was surprised at how much resistance there was within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him in closely as she winced. “Hold,” she hissed, “just...just hold...” She lay there underneath him, breathing deeply.

“Did I hurt you?” Eric asked, suddenly concerned.

Fallon’s fierce grin returned. “Only as much as you had to,” she replied.

“This is your first time?”

“I’ve never wanted any man enough before you,” Fallon said. Seeing the surprise in his eyes, she shrugged her shoulders as best she could with her arms pinned over her head. “I wanted a man who saw me as an equal. Whom I could see as such, too.”

Eric was floored. “I’ll never be as cool as you,” he breathed in amazement.

“Whatever that means,” Fallon grinned. She rocked her hips against his, shuddering at the pleasure of it. Eric loved it, too, and couldn’t help but thrust into her again. “Gods,” she moaned. “Don’t talk to me, lover.
Take me
.”

To be with a woman like this was more of a thrill than he’d imagined.
Yet to hear her say those words, knowing her as he did, completely blew Eric away. He felt like his heart would burst from his chest. There was something he should say in return, but was it too soon? Did she really mean what she said? That was stupid; Fallon always meant what she said. But did she mean it the way—?

His hold on her wrists weakened. With her legs still wrapped around Eric’s waist, Fallon broke his grip, reaching up in a lightning quick move to snatch hold of his hair on both sides of his head. She yanked him down to her, forcing him into another wildly passionate kiss. Her legs pulled him in again, as deep and as close as she could get him.

The hell with sweet nothings
,
Eric thought.

***

For the first time in a week, Amanda awoke alone. She stretched in her bed, wondering where everyone had gotten to. Salatis often rose early, but Nishan and Ladina usually stayed with her.

When her eyes opened, she found Salatis sitting in a chair nearby.
Recognizing the serious look on the face of the priestess, Amanda slid off the bed and walked to her. Salatis offered her hands, taking Amanda’s with a gentle squeeze.

“He has returned to the city,” Salatis told her bluntly. “His men search for a girl named ‘Amanda.’ I suspect I know her,” the priestess said, “but I have told his emissaries that no one of her name or her description has come here.”

“Thank you,” Amanda said gratefully.

“I never liked him,” Salatis shrugged. “He will continue to search for you, but I believe he has more urgent matters. Bel-Danab has called upon the priests of Set to demand troops and support. They will give him whatever he wishes. He intends to march in
to the desert tomorrow morning.”

Amanda took a long, deep breath. “Then I have to go after him.”

***

Bel-Danab’s men
moved in too large a force to maintain any secrecy. Even in a city as big as this, one could not quietly gather hundreds of men with armor, weapons, packs and provisions without people knowing. It happened quickly, fast enough that spies within the city would have had to scramble to do anything to effectively warn their far-off masters, but there was little need for secrecy. No force within three hundred miles would have been sufficient to pose a threat.

At least, no human force.

The bulk of the army moved out on foot. Officers and specialists had horses, while considerable food and water stores were carried on camel-drawn carts. A special unit walked with one cart, carrying a cage covered in a thin, white muslin shroud. The unit was comprised of soldiers and priests bearing the symbols of Set, for only the faithful could be trusted to guard the god’s intended virgin sacrifices.

Some livestock was brought along, mostly chickens in a cart, some pigs, a few goats. The important people in the column would want fresh food, after all, and not the bland rations carried by the common soldiery. There were also plenty of slaves, brought along to carry this or that and to provide a work force for whatever needs might arise.

Scouts and outriders, messengers and a rear guard broadened the army’s reach, but also its trail. They weren’t exactly difficult to track.

Were it not for all the treasures she had looted from Bel-Danab’s tower, Amanda never could have kept up on foot. She had always worked out faithfully in college, and was if anything in even better shape after
so many weeks of living away from her sedentary job and plentiful junk food. Yet a steady march in a scorching summer desert was well beyond her experience.

The magical cloak that had protected her from Yaol’s spell of frost provided supernatural protection from the heat of the day and the chill of the night. It was perfect for this sort of thing. Her backpack carried far more than enough provisions while remaining lighter than any book
bag she’d carried in school. The long walk had her exhausted by the end of the first day just the same, but staying hidden was a much bigger challenge than keeping up.

T
railing elements of the rear guard nearly spotted her twice. Amanda quickly learned to shadow the army from off to one side, as she was almost caught by a rider from the city bearing late messages of one sort or another. Still, she stayed careful, quick-thinking and disciplined. Through her natural wits and magical aids, she avoided discovery.

Until the third night of the journey.

Sleep was a risk, but a necessary one. Her cloak kept her quite comfortable when it came to temperature, and in the end she could live with the hardness of the dry desert ground. Wisely, Amanda took the trouble to arrange for magical protection from discovery. She cast a warding spell, arranging it to produce the howl of a jackal to warn of the approach of any danger.

Just such a sound awakened her on the third night. Amanda promptly popped the lid off the flask that she slept with every night in the desert, downing its contents without hesitation. It was all of this particular potion she had found among Yaol’s many bottles, but if it saved her from discovery here, it was worth using. An instant later, she
became invisible.

Amanda snatche
d up her backpack, bringing it within the folds of her cloak. She rose and stepped away from where she’d slept, moving off to one side as the illusory howl of the jackals ended. Knowing she couldn’t be seen, Amanda held still, waiting in the darkness of the desert night with a spell ready on her lips.

For long, tense seconds, she heard nothing and saw nothing. Had
animals stumbled into the range of her mystic ward? Had it been some person, scared away by the howls? Her invisibility would last only minutes. All she could do once it faded was trust in the darkness of the night.

S
he saw the woman slip into view, crouching low, prowling close without a sound. She had her black hair held back from her forehead by a leather headband, revealing a strong, beautiful face. The woman wore hardened leather armor, bearing only a simple backpack and a long, slightly curved sword.

The woman looked right at and through Amanda. Her gaze swept the area, seeming deeply suspicious despite seeing nothing. Amanda waited, hoping she would go by before the potion wore off.