Hunted (Book 2) (17 page)

Tressa woke up, her head resting on Jarrett's chest.

"Morning," he said, smiling at her.

"Morning." She grinned and sat up, not at all
ashamed of her nakedness as the sheet fell to her waist. She reached over to
the table. An attendant had brought them breakfast, silently sneaking in when
both Jarrett and Tressa slept. Tressa took a cup of tea, letting it snake down
her throat. "Mmm. It's the same tea my Granna used to give me back in
Hutton's Bridge. We'd take it every morning together. Everything feels so
unreal this morning."

"It wasn't a dream." Jarrett wrapped an arm
around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

Tressa sipped the last of the tea, set the cup aside, and
laughed. "If it was just a dream, then we wouldn't be forced to get out of
bed and head out with an army this morning. We'd get to stay here and do more
of all the wonderful things we did last night." She kissed his chest,
savoring his smell, a heady combination of the desert and wine. "But we
can't. We have to march out as soon as the sun is up."

"I know." Jarrett kissed her forehead. "If
you changed your mind and told me you wanted to wait another day, you wouldn't
be the same woman I've risked everything for. I'm ready whenever you are."

Regretfully Tressa stood and padded across the floor to the
wardrobe. She hadn't even had a chance to look at her new clothes last night.
As Adara had promised, the new leather outfits were in there. They looked and
smelled more glorious than Tressa could have imagined. Her fingers grazed over
the pant legs under the long tunic, barely feeling the outline of a dagger. She
smiled. Adara had done just as she’d asked.

"What are these?" Jarrett asked, sliding his arms
around her waist and nuzzling his lips into her neck. His hands slipped
dangerously low, almost convincing Tressa to push him back into bed.

"Some new clothes Adara made for me. I can't wait to
get them on. Aren't they beautiful?" Tressa pulled one out of the wardrobe
and held it up in front of her.

Jarrett's hands had made their way north, cupping her
breasts. "Mmm, yes."

She slapped Jarrett. "You're not looking at the
clothes."

"No, I'm not," he said. "Should I be?"

Tressa dropped the outfit on the floor and spun around,
still wrapped in his arms. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips
against his, letting her tongue meander.

Jarrett pulled her closer.

Tressa grunted, pushing him away. She wrapped her arms
around her stomach. Falling to her knees, Tressa fought against the tears
spilling from her eyes.

Jarrett squatted next to her. "Are you okay? What's
wrong?"

Pain coursed through Tressa, unlike any she'd ever felt. A
tearing sensation ripped through her lower stomach. Her muscles cramped and she
crumbled to the floor.

Jarrett picked her up, cradling Tressa against his chest
like a baby. He laid her down gently on the bed. "Stay here, I'm calling
for the physic."

A warm liquid burst from between her legs, streaming down
her thighs. "What?" Tressa reached down, her fingers touching the
sticky substance. She looked at her fingertips, covered in blood and mucous.

"I don't understand," she whispered to no one.

The door burst open, Jarrett ran in, followed by a female
healer. After only a quick glance the woman yelled, "Get me Lea and
Darja."

She sat on the bed next to Tressa. "How far along were
you?"

"I'm sorry?" Tressa asked. She looked up at
Jarrett. "What's going on? What's wrong with me? Am I dying?"

The woman stroked Tressa's hair. Sympathy dripped from her
eyes. "You've lost your baby."

Baby?

Tressa's eyes met Jarrett's. "What does she mean? I
wasn't pregnant."

"Oh dear." The healer grabbed Jarrett's hand.
"You didn't know?"

Jarrett's eyes wide, he shook his head. "No. We
didn't." He sat on the bed next to Tressa. "Did you know?"

"No." It came out a strangled cry. "I
didn't. I would have told you. I would have..." She trailed off. She
didn't know what she would have done differently. The baby would have been
Bastian's. He was the only man she'd been with since leaving Hutton’s Bridge —
up until the night before.

A baby. The only time she'd ever managed to get pregnant
after all those years of trying.

Gone.

Lost.

And she didn't even know.

"We made love last night. Is this my fault? Was I too
rough with her?" Jarrett pleaded with the healer. "Is this my
fault?" Tears glistened in his eyes.

"No," the healer said. "That is quite
unlikely. Miscarriage is common. You can try for another soon enough."

Tressa shook her head. Anguish spread through every part of
her. It tingled in her fingers. Bit at her toes. Cramped in her stomach. Tressa
leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.

A gaggle of attendants broke into the room carrying buckets
of water and cloths. One knelt on the floor, cleaning up the mess Tressa had
just made.

"It'll be okay," the healer said, stroking a wet
cloth along Tressa's legs, cleaning up the remnants of the expelled life.
"You will heal. You will conceive again." A pipe rested between her
lips, a sweet smell wafting from the bowl.

"No." Tressa whispered. She said it over and over
again. Her lips going dry with the effort. "No. I cannot."

"Tressa, my love." Jarrett sat next to the
healer. He kissed the top of Tressa's head. "I am so sorry I couldn't
protect you from this."

She looked up at the man she'd come to care for. Her heart
ached. Was this her punishment for leaving Bastian, then? Was she to suffer for
the rest of her life? Never to be a mother, when it was once the only thing
she'd ever wanted? "Go."

"I'm not going anywhere." Jarrett stroked her
hair and kissed her head again.

"You have to take the army and find them. I can't
go...like this." She closed her eyes, refusing to look at the mess from
the expelled remnants.

"No. I won't leave you." His voice cracked.

Tressa was touched he cared so much about a child that
wasn't his. She'd never told him about her inability to conceive. There was
never a reason. Now that he knew, maybe he'd leave her for another woman who
could bear him children. Just like Bastian and the other boys had been forced
to do.

"You must," she said finally. "No one else
can save my people. Go. Please."

"Tressa – "

"If you love me as you say you do, you'll go."
She measured even breaths, keeping herself on the brink of passing out.

"Listen to her," the healer said. "Go. Do as
she says. There is nothing you can do for her now. She needs to rest."

Jarrett kissed Tressa on the head one more time. "This
changes nothing. My feelings for you remain as they were, stronger even. I will
come back to you and I will deliver your people, wherever they may be. I swear
this to you."

Tressa attempted a smile, then closed her eyes, lost in a
deep sleep.

***

"Is it done?" Jacinda asked. She eyed Tressa
lying in Jarrett's bed. It was one she herself had spent many, many nights in.
Now it belonged to this whore from the east.

"Yes, my queen. The tea did just as it should have. The
baby has been ejected from the girl's body. Nothing remains." The healer
chomped on her pipe, blowing smoke out the window, away from the girl.

"Good. Jarrett will be gone for days. It is more than
enough time to dispose of the girl. Tell the attendants the story. That she
recovered and decided to leave him. That she could not stand her sorrow at
losing his child. That she ran away, after stealing a good portion of his gold,
of course."

The healer laughed, coughing halfway through. Her lungs
were likely as black as her heart. Loyal only to Jacinda, Miranda had served
the queen since Jacinda was but a babe. "It will be done. The boat will be
ready soon."

"Send her to sea." Jacinda admired her
fingernails, sharp as a dragon's claw. "Let the darkness there swallow
her."

"As you wish it, my queen."

Fire licked at Fenn's ankles, his skin melting into the
bone. His screams echoed through the dungeon, only encouraging the horned demon
to whip his back harder. Blood trailed down his arse, dripping in a river to
the fire below.

Fenn smiled, his teeth sharp and dangerous.

"Harder!" He screamed at the demon. The hooved
beast danced behind him, cracking the whip. "More! I need the pain!"

Fingers trailed a path across his shoulders and down his
chest. "Are you enjoying this, my love?" Jayne's eyes narrowed, the
red glow pulsing deep within her irises.

"It feels like being reborn. Eating through my
mother's womb, slashing at her most delicate skin with my teeth." Fenn
shuddered.

"I would be jealous of you talking of another woman
that way if you hadn't just showed me exactly how you feel about me earlier
today." Jayne's fingers trailed lower to his abdomen. She circled his
bellybutton with one fingernail.

He'd left Hutton’s Bridge all those years ago, leaving
behind Tressa, just a baby at the time. He’d emerged from the fog and been
turned into a dragon, but he hadn't regretted one moment of his life in
servitude to the Red. His pain was their pleasure for months on end. On the day
he broke, defeated and empty on the dungeon floor, his eyes closed and his soul
about to leave his body, they turned him. They'd sent a woman to him and she'd
served him a drink and then made love to him while he healed.

Every place her lips touched, the wounds healed. Closing up
within mere moments, as if they'd never been inflicted on him in the first
place. The pain of the healing was nearly as intense as the pain he'd
experienced when the wounds were inflicted.

He didn't care. He loved every second of it.

He'd faced death, and with their help, he'd defeated it.
Becoming a red dragon was beyond his wildest dreams.

And when he'd been on patrol outside the fog and found
Jayne mostly dead, he'd brought her into the fold. Nearly killed her with his
rage and then brought her back to life with his blood.

The others had recognized their bonds and allowed Fenn to
turn her. Jayne made a wonderful solider in their army. And when the two of
them found Tressa and Bastian, they'd solidified their place in the ranks. They
proved their loyalty by breaking the two of them up and sending Bastian back
into the fog to die.

They were also the first in Hutton's Bridge after the fog
fell.

Fenn signaled to the demon. It bowed and put away its whip.
Fenn stepped out of the fire under his feet.

"Now that we have the rest of the people from Hutton's
Bridge here, we should continue with the plan." Jayne handed Fenn his
clothes. Though they preferred dragon form, their next assignment required them
to use their human sides.

"Yes. The queen wishes us to speak with our fellow villagers
from Hutton's Bridge." He pulled on a tattered shirt and pants whose ends
were frayed off. No shoes.

Jayne mussed up his hair. Hers lay in a sloppy ponytail.
"We have to show them we've been living a wonderful life. Make them trust
us and want to confide in us."

"We can do that." Fenn laughed. "Our lives
have never been better."

"But my brother," Jayne said with a sigh.
"Adam is among them. He may notice a difference in me."

"Adam won't suspect a thing if you keep your wits
about you." Fenn grabbed her shoulders, giving her a little shake.
"Remember who you serve."

Jayne nodded.

"Remember what will happen to you if you fail."
Fenn tilted her chin up and looked her in the eyes. His blue eyes flashed to
red, reminding her what they were now.

"I won't fail." Jayne steeled herself, letting
the dragon inside her roar. Only she could hear it, but that was all it took.
Her forked tongue flicked out, licking Fenn's face.

"Not now, my dear," he said, letting her tongue
wrap around his fingertip. He yanked, pulling her face to his. Holding the
tension, he let his lips rest on her cheek. "We will destroy them before
they know what hit them."

Jayne's tongue slithered back into her mouth. "Not
until we extract the remainder of the secrets about the honey. We must find the
beekeeper."

Bastian lay in an unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling.
He couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind. Holding out a hand to Tressa.
Watching her step away from him. Her eyes filled with regret and resolve.

They were done. Without so much as a word.

Fingertips trailed down his chest to his bellybutton.
"Want to go for it again?"

Her voice grated on him, the woman he'd found in the dark
and dragged to the nearest inn after dropping off Connor and Elinor at the
castle. He'd spent half the night forgetting Tressa. His face buried in her
hair, his lips on her breasts, and his hands on her ample bottom. She'd been a
willing participant, but he didn't fool himself. The coin he'd left on the
table was her only reason for being there.

It was fine with him. He’d needed release after waiting so
long to be with Tressa again. He was done wasting his time on a woman who no
longer wanted him. There was a new world outside of Hutton's Bridge, one he was
happy to explore.

"Go." He slapped her bottom. "We're done
here."

The woman, whose name he hadn't bothered to ask, and didn't
really want to know, slid out from under the covers, shamelessly exposing her
entire body. "Sure you don't want one more romp?"

"I can't afford any more from you." Bastian
winked, exhausted.

She bit her lip. "For you, I might throw in a
complimentary act of your choosing. I've never been with a redhead before. It's
like you're made of fire."

Bastian laughed. There were no prostitutes in Hutton's
Bridge, but he was under no illusions as to what this woman wanted. He could do
with sex like that once in a while, but he didn't want to make a habit of
paying prostitutes. He'd be broke before he'd be sated. "We're done
tonight." He fished another gold coin he’d taken from Stacia’s reserves from
his pants pocket, and tossed it to her.

She caught it expertly in one hand. "If you need me
again, you know where to find me." She shimmied a dress over her body.

Bastian had enjoyed himself thoroughly. She knew exactly
how to pleasure him. There was no hesitation. No concern anyone would be hurt.

She leaned over, leaving one last wet kiss on his manhood.
Bastian had to hold himself back from yanking her down on him. No, he was done
for now.

After she left, he pulled the curtains open, revealing a
blinding sun. Bastian yanked on his pants, paid the man behind the bar for his
room, and ventured out into the new day.

When they'd arrived back from the Sands the night before,
everyone was exhausted. They'd gone their separate ways, promising to meet
again at lunch and discuss their plans. They had secured the Blue throne, but
they had to decide what to do next. Bastian wanted to find the people of
Hutton's Bridge, particularly his daughter. It was time for her to have a
secure life. He’d give up his position and give her a normal life. He'd gotten
off course searching for Tressa. No more. All of his efforts would be focused
on finding Farah and building a new home for them.

The castle gates were closed, barring him from entering.
Bastian rattled the iron bars, bellowing orders at no one. After a few
agonizing breaths, a man in a black robe slowly approached the gate.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice sonorous.

"I'm the ruler here. Bastian. Let me in." He hit
the gates one more time.

The man's face remained hidden in the hood. "Our ruler
is inside."

"What are you talking about?" He wanted to reach
through the grates and throttle the healer. "I control the dragon. I am
the ruler."

A low laugh emanated from the hood. "The dragon is
under the control of Maester Malachi. He is the new leader of the Blue."

"What?" Bastian couldn't wrap his head around
what he was saying. Bastian had set off in pursuit of a sexual conquest and
Connor said he was going to check on the eggs and Fotia. "No, the dragon
won't answer to Malachi."

Another chuckle.

If Bastian could reach him, he would have wrapped his hands
around the man's throat.

"The dragon does as he's told when his offspring is in
the hands of Maester Malachi."

"No!" Bastian shouted. Fotia and the other eggs
were as much Connor's children as Farah was to Bastian. If threatened, Connor
would do anything to protect them.

Anything.

Even give in to Malachi.

"Where is Elinor?" Bastian demanded.

"Elinor?" The healer sounded confused. He tapped
his chin with one long finger. "Ah, yes, Malachi’s daughter. She is in her
new chambers, sleeping peacefully. I suggest you stop your yelling before you
wake her."

Bastian stumbled back. Malachi's daughter. No. She was only
a simple healer, recently graduated into the upper ranks of her guild.

Was she a traitor? Had she been using him from the moment
they'd happened upon Connor in the woods? No wonder she'd been so irritated at
Bastian for wanting to fly to the Sands. The guards had taken it for love.
Bastian knew now it only served to delay her plans to steal the throne from
him. More importantly, she now controlled Connor, Fotia, and the eggs.

She was just another female, playing him like a lute. The
idiot he was, he’d played along again. What good were his muscles if he trusted
so easily, only to be fooled again?

Bastian spat at the man. "This town has done nothing
but bring me trouble. You can have the stupid throne. I'm leaving."

He stalked down the street, seeing the men of the Black
Guard ahead of him. The large one, Marden, stood with his beefy arms crossed
over his chest. Bastian rolled his eyes. He didn't want to face these men. Not
now. Not ever.

Bastian stepped to the side, staring at the toes of his
boots. Maybe if he ignored him, they'd leave him alone. A strong hand clamping
his shoulder told him otherwise.

"I don't want to fight," Bastian told Marden, not
sure if the man would even care.

"Neither do I."

Bastian looked at him, surprised. He waited to hear what
else the man had to say.

"The healers took over the throne late last night.
It's one thing for us to leave our posts because you had a dragon behind you.
It's another for a group of worthless healers to relieve us of duty. We respect
the throne, and it shouldn't be under their control."

"What do you propose we do?" Bastian asked.

Before Bastian could react, two men grabbed his arms and a
third hit him over the head. The world swirled away into darkness.