Knight Avenged (19 page)

Henrik came to, shooting into awareness like a bottle thrown into rushing water. He bobbed on the surface a moment, heart beating an unnatural rhythm as he shifted. Sore muscles squawked, sending sensation prickling along his spine. He frowned and took stock. Hands bound behind his back. Check. Feet pulled together, a tight tether around both. Double check. He cracked his eyes open an
d . . .
oh goody. Hanging upside down inside a dark plant-infested alcove too. Lovely. Just terrific. He’d just cornered the market on a triple threat called
absolutely screwed
.

Not that it meant anything. He’d been in tight spots before. A lot of them. All kinds of life-threatening situations, but, wel
l . . .

Being attacked by a giant plant ranked as the most bizarre. One of the worst situations he’d encountered in a while. A close second to being strapped to the blue stone inside Grey Keep. The memory sliced deep, elevating his pulse. His heart punched the inside of his chest. Sucking in a deep breath, Henrik shook his head. Not good. Nowhere near fair either. He didn’t need reminding. His mind didn’t care, reacting to the bondage, serving up the memory on a mental platter.

Tied down. Spread eagle on cold stone. Helpless in the face of Halál and his knives.

A shiver rolled through him. Refusing to give in, he shut it down. ’Twas rank insanity. The height of stupidity. No way should he be comparing incidents. Or dwelling on the past when the present stared him in the face. Christ, he had enough to worry about right here. So forget the awful lash of remembered torture. The bitter memory needed to stay where he put i
t . . .
locked in the dark pit at the back of his brain.

Flexing his hands, Henrik tested his bonds. Thick tentacles reacted, coiling higher, slithering up his forearms to brush the insides of his elbows. The cold, leathery slide gave him a bad case of the creeps. He hated being bound. Despised the weakness along with the vulnerability. Which meant he needed to figure a way out fast. Henrik wasn’t alone. He could feel the sway and bump of the body hanging next to him as wind swirled on a gentle updraft. One of his friends? Some other sorry shmuck who’d been punished for getting too close to the Limwoods? Cosmina? Henrik’s chest went tight, closing his throat. God, he hoped not. Prayed she’d gotten away. Was even now headed for safety, bu
t . . .

Jesus help him. He couldn’t tell. The darkness was too thick, impeding his ability to see, never mind assess the situation. Guess now he knew how Cosmina felt, didn’t he? Blind. Vulnerable. Hemmed in by the reality of weakness and reliance on another. Not fun—any of it. Particularly since—

“Goddess help me.” Full of vexation, the mutter came somewhere off to his right. Henrik’s head snapped in that direction. Gaze narrowed, he searched the darkness and listened hard. A rustle of sound. A rasp of harsh exhales, almost as though she couldn’t catch her breath. The coil and hiss of unfriendly vines. “Thea, for the love of God, ’tis m
e . . .
Cosmina. Please let go.”

Relief hit Henrik like a runaway horse. Oh Jesus. Thank Christ. She was unharmed. Sounded all right too—voice hushed but strong.

Cosmina cursed again. The low grumble rolled through the quiet, cluing him in to her mood. She wasn’t scared. Her tone said angry instead. A good sign. One that gave him hope as thick creepers tightened their grip, writhing around him.

“Cozs-meeena.” More hiss than voice, the whisper shivered through the trees, rolling on long-drawn
s
’s, raising the hair on the nape of Henrik’s neck.

“Aye.” She huffed. “’Tis me. Now, let go.”

The forest hummed, the slither and slide full of warning.

The body next to him jerked. “
Merde
. What the—”

“Jesu,” Shay said, coming awake on his other side.

Kazim stirred with a groan. “Allah be merciful.”

“Quiet.” Rocking sideways, Henrik bumped Andrei, then used the momentum to swing in the opposite direction. He touched shoulders with Shay. The gentle collision made his apprentice flinch, knocking him into Kazim. Steel rattled as blade hilts kissed. Shay sucked in a quick breath. Henrik snapped his fingers. The soft sound triggered a reaction. His friends took the cue and buttoned up, staying silent while vines creaked in the swaying to and fro. Excellent. Necessary too. The last thing he wanted was Cosmina distracted. Particularly when she appeared to be making headway, conversing with, wel
l . . .
he didn’t know. An enchanted plant named
Thea
? “Let Cosmina work.”

A thump echoed through the quiet. “Ouch! Jeeper
s . . .
watch it, would you?”

Henrik’s lips twitched. Probably not the smartest reaction, but hel
l . . .
he couldn’t help it. Cosmina didn’t sound happy, and the fact she directed her displeasure at Thea tickled his funny bone. Somehow, though, he wasn’t surprised. Unafraid to speak her mind, Cosmina packed a wallop when she wanted t
o . . .

Man-eating plants included.

“Blast and damn, Thea.” A slap reverberated in the alcove as Cosmina swatted vines away. “Be careful of my arm.”

The air stilled, growing colder. Thea growled. “Hurt.”

“Naught time won’t heal,” Cosmina said, tone switching from annoyed to soothing. “No
w . . .
where did you put them?”

“Bad men.”

“Nay, Thea. Good men. They protected me at White Temple and mean you no harm.” A scrape, then the shuffle of boots on frozen earth drifted in the dark. Henrik tilted his head, listening, interpreting each noise an
d . . .
aye, definitely. Cosmina was now on her feet. “I’m sorry I did not ask for safe passage. You know I always do, but we are being hunted by—”

“Halál of Grey Keep.” Violence shivered through the forest. Roping vines twisted, reaching up to brush Henrik’s cheek. “Bad man.”

“Very bad man.”

“No like.”

“Me neither. But Henrik and his friends are not like that.”

A pause. The darkness expanded, stealing his breath, tightening its hold, enclosing him inside his own head. Pressure built between his temples. Henrik clenched his teeth. His comrades twitched, reacting to the mind-bending pulse as the forest took a breath. An ominous rattle followed. Baring invisible fangs, Thea turned to stare at him. Pure conjecture, considering he couldn’t see anything? Mayhap, but Henrik didn’t think so. The magic in the air told the tale. And as she hissed his name, Henrik held his breath and stayed very still. No sense provoking the thing. Thea oozed potent power and the menace of predatory intent. Otherworldly. A force to be reckoned wit
h . . .
an intelligence rooted deep in the earth. The kind he’d only felt once and knew could only mean one thing.

Thea belonged to the Goddess of All Things.

Supposition? Or fact? Henrik bet on the latter. The theory made a certain amount of sense. Cosmina, after all, lived inside the Limwoods. Not something just anyone could do. As a member of the Blessed, Thea recognized her for what she was: a servant of the goddess. Someone who played on the same side. A woman to be protected and cared for as the deity decreed.

Henrik cleared his throat. “Cosmina?”

“Oh thank the goddess.” A rustle sounded as Cosmina turned in his direction. Still somewhere to his right, she paused mid-step. He didn’t blame her. ’Twas too dark to see anything. “Henri
k . . .
are you all right?”

In a manner of speaking. Strung up like fresh kill, his position didn’t exactly inspire confidence. “All in one piece, but ’tis too dark. I cannot—”

“The
a . . .
some light, if you please,” Cosmina said, providing what he needed before he asked.

Henrik frowned.
Some
light? Any at all would be good. The thought echoed, bouncing around inside his head an instant before a low hum cut through the quiet. Pinpricks of light blinked on, illuminating the darkness. He squinted, vision adjusting to the sudden glare, an
d . . .
good Christ. An army of lightning bugs, the drone of tiny wings buzzing above the roll of writhing vines. Blood rushing in his ears, hanging upside down six, mayhap seven, feet from the ground, his gaze swept the enclave. Surrounded by dense forest. Hemmed in by creeping vines. Deep in the heart of the Limwoods. A place most had never seen, never mind survived.

A soft whinny pushed through, capturing his attention.

Henrik glanced left. He breathed out in relief. Clustered together, the horses stood to one side, spooked and still, acting like living statuary, frosty air puffing from their nostrils. Alive with movement, vines slithered around the edges of the large den, blocking any chance of escape. And Cosmina? His gaze landed on her. Just feet away, she stood in the center of the dell, one arm cradling the other, looking pale but so beautiful his throat went tight.

The lightning bugs’ glow grew more intense.

Her brow furrowed. Her lashes flickered, and she turned her head away from the radiance, almost as though the light hurt her eyes. Which meant one thing. Her vision continued to improve. Was returning little by little. Now full recovery was just a day or two away. At least, he hoped so—for her sake and his too. He liked the woman he’d met inside High Temple, the hellion who’d held him at knifepoint and threatened him with supreme skill. Odd, he knew. But no matter how strange his reaction, he couldn’t deny the tu
g . . .
the need to know her better and see just how good she was with a blade.

“Hey,” he said, his focus fixed on her.

She glanced his way. No longer white but pale green, her eyes met his. She squinted as though unable to focus, then blinked. The flutter of movement drew him tight. Made her even more appealing—if that were even possible. With her hair tumbling in disarray, she looked like a siren, making him surrender to the libidinous pull.

Breaking eye contact, she glared over her shoulder. “Release him. The others too.”

The vine closest to Cosmina snapped its tip. The quick flick reminded Henrik of a disobedient child turning up its nose.

Cosmina pursed her lips. “I mean it, Thea.”

A soft snarl gathered speed until it throbbed in the enclave. An instant later, the creepers loosened, and with a flick, sent him spinning arse over heels. Cold air slapped against his face. Henrik cursed, and twisting in midair, fought to get his feet under him. No chance of that. He hit the ground with a thud. Pain streaked over his shoulder. His teeth clenched on a curse, he flinched as his comrades thumped down beside him, but didn’t hesitate. With a quick flip, he jumped to his feet and, ignoring the threat of creeping vines, strode across the clearing. Cosmina met him halfway, limping into his open arms. Settling like a gift, she nestled in as though she belonged against him.

Blowing out a pent-up breath, he enveloped her in his embrace and set his chin atop her head. “Are you unhurt?”

She nodded. “Are you? Thea can be a touch rough and—”

“A touch?” Henrik snorted. Christ. If that was only a
touch
, he didn’t want to be around when Thea unleashed the true extent of her power. “How far to your cottage?”

“From here?”

“Aye.”

“A day and a half on foot. Mayhap less. I wasn’t in a hurry when I walked it.”

Well, he was now. Hurrying seemed like an excellent idea. A secure place to rest and recoup. Time enough to regroup and come up with a game plan. The strategy ticked all his boxes. The sooner he found a safe haven, the better off he—and everyone else—would be. But as he turned toward the horses and told the others to mount up, he sensed Thea following him. Green tentacles slithered around his feet. He froze mid-stride.

“Ignore her.” Cold nose pressed to the hollow of his throat, Cosmina shivered. “She’s all show.”

Not quite. In fact, not even close. “Not going to happen.”

“Ever,” Shay said.

“Fascinating,” Kazim murmured, watching the vines slip across the ground. He held his hand out to one of the tentacles. Magic thrummed, heating the air. The creeper rose like a cobra from a basket, coiling around his arm. Kazim hummed in welcome as Thea stroked his skin, then reached up to caress the side of his throat. Dark eyes alive with pleasure, Kazim’s mouth curved. “Fantastic. She’s beautiful.”

“
Es-tu malade
?” Andrei said, accent thicker than usual, boots rooted to the ground. He shook his head. “You like her so much, you go first.”

Shaking loose of the creeper’s hold, Kazim nodded and started toward the horses. Henrik tensed. Shifting Cosmina, he got ready to move—to intervene and protect Kazim. Funny thing, though: naught happened. Thea didn’t attack. She purred instead and followed Kazim, acting like a lovesick cub, the pleasant scent of hollyhocks rising in her wake.

Cosmina smiled. “She likes him.”

“Good.”

He hoped it stayed that way. The last thing he needed was more trouble. A smooth trail and a fast gallop, however? Both sounded good. More than necessary. Especially while surrounded by the Goddess of All Thing’s creation. That alone rendered Thea untrustworthy. Too bad little choice remained. To avoid Halál and keep Cosmina safe he needed to traverse the ancient forest. His unease meant little and mattered even less. Only his goal remained: keep the magical plant happy while he planned an attack that would not only take the enemy down, but ensure the bastards stayed dead.