Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (48 page)

With a howl he flailed, falling backward, one hand over his bloody nose, the other reaching for her. As his arse met the ground, Vladimir bellowed, telling his men to keep hold of her legs. The man holding her right ankle pressed down. Another whistle sounded. Chest heaving, heart thumping, Afina ducked. The bastard behind her gagged, the tip of a dagger protruding from his throat. Scrambling madly, she kicked out, slamming
her foot into Oscar’s chin. His head snapped back and he lost his grip, liberating her other foot.

Wet earth pushing beneath her fingernails, Afina lunged toward Dax. She needed to get them both to the lip of the forest. The arrows had come from her left. Her salvation lay in that direction. If she could just—

A man she didn’t recognize leapt over a huge boulder at the edge of the dell. His feet hit the ground, and he rolled, loosing a dagger as he came out of his crouch. The blade struck home, sinking into an enemy chest. Vladimir shouted, rousing his guard. At least twenty strong, they unsheathed their swords.

The stranger skidded to a halt beside her. Drawing two arrows from his quiver, he set his bow with both and took down more of Vladimir’s guard. “Get behind me, healer.”

Afina didn’t stop to think, much less argue. The warrior dressed like Xavian and his men, black from head to toe. The only real difference was his hair. Trimmed to his skull, the cut emphasized the planes of his face. Set in lethal lines, his green eyes flashed as his arrows flew, using the swine’s men as pincushions. But they were growing wise, taking cover to release their own. An arrowhead cut through the ground beside her, leaving a trench an inch deep.

The warrior in front of her snarled, unsheathing his twin swords. “Get moving, woman.”

“Where?”

“Take cover in the trees. I will follow.”

A death grip on Dax, Afina heaved his weight. Oscar outflanked her, blood running from the corner of his mouth. Sword in hand, he cut off her escape from the left. Another guard came around from the right, blocking the last path to freedom. Setting her son down gently, she palmed Xavian’s dagger. “Ah, warrior?”

“What?”

“We’ve got problems.”

“No shit.” Steel slid beneath an enemy chin. The warrior drew his blade through, slitting the man’s throat.

Oscar took a step toward her, a hideous grin on his face. “I’m gonna get your brat, witch.”

“Come any closer...” Afina trailed off, watching two more pigs arrive. They were setting a perimeter, encircling them from all sides. She adjusted her grip on the knife hilt and held it out in front of her. “And you’re a dead man.”

Shielded behind Oscar’s back, Vladimir snorted. “Away you go, Oscar. Kill the bastard...bring me Afina.”

The warrior took a step back. He reset his stance, keeping them back-to-back with Dax lying between them. “You know how to use that, healer?”

“Afina.”

“Shay,” he said, deep voice rumbling as he returned the favor and told her his name. Mayhap it was stupid, but she needed to know it. If she was going to die with the man, she wanted to know what to call him. He threw her a sideways glance, blades raised, a brow arched. “Do you?”

She flexed her free hand, felt a prickle in her fingertips. Her breath hitched on hope as heat gathered at the base of her spine. With the blood crystals gone, her magic was returning. It wasn’t much, but enough mayhap for a diversion...for one of the invisible domes she’d used on the dragons.

“I’ll manage.” Afina shifted to the balls of her feet, picturing a warrior’s shield. She held the image in her mind’s eye, watched, waited for Oscar to make his move. “You fight...I will watch your back.”

Oscar shook his head. “Put it down, witch. You are no match for—”

A dark shadow rolled over the clearing, blotting out the sun. Awareness shivered through her. Afina glanced up an instant before the war cry rippled, rising on the wind. Time slowed, every man froze, swords poised in midair, eyes on the sky. Trees trunks bent sideways, making way for a dark wing. The sharp tip angled in, sliced down, creating a path for its cargo. Xavian leapt from his perch, vaulting through tree limbs, an avenging angel dressed in black leather. As his feet hit the ground, he unsheathed his swords, a roar on his breath, murder on his blades.

“Christ.” Shay glanced at her over his shoulder. “You’ll remember I helped you when this is over?”

“I’ve got your back,” she said to Shay, reassuring him as she set her stance, feet planted, dagger up, magic swirling in her palms. She smiled—more snarl than grin—at Oscar. “Now you’re in for it.”

The bastard’s eyes narrowed. “He has to reach you first, witch.”

A black blur landed behind him, blades at the ready. Afina tipped her chin, greeting the warrior now standing at Oscar’s back. “Andrei.”

“Afina.”

“About time you got here.”

Andrei grinned. “Better late than never.”

The pig roared and, ignoring Andrei, lunged toward her. Sunlight rippled along his sword, the razor-sharp tip leading the charge. Heart in her throat, Dax still at her heels, Afina shifted and raised her hand. A moment before she threw up her shield, Shay pivoted. Steel met steel, the clashing blades inches away
from the top of her head. A low ring started in her ears as she got low, hunching over Dax to protect him from the backlash. It didn’t come. Skilled and brutal, Shay controlled the thrust and, with a quick twist, planted his foot in the middle of the bastard’s chest. Oscar stumbled back toward Xavian’s man.

“My thanks.” His gaze on Oscar, Andrei took a step back, allowing his enemy to regain his balance. The urge to bash him over the head almost overcame her. Good goddess, he was fighting fair, adhering to some strange
man code
.

“Not a problem.”

Afina threw them both a dirty look.

Andrei shrugged, a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

With a grin, Shay returned to the fray, guarding her from the other side.

Aware now was no time to lecture them on the merits of a quick kill, Afina sheathed her knife and grabbed hold of Dax. She needed to get him out of the clearing, away from the fighting...somewhere she could tend his injuries in relative safety.

Retrieve and retreat. Retrieve and retreat.

She looked one way then the other. A lane opened, giving her a clear path into the forest. Her feet moved before her brain told her to go, heading north toward the cliffs. Dax’s head bobbed against her arm. Afina tightened her grip, willing strength into her legs. Her muscles shook, giving in to exhaustion. She needed Xavian’s touch and the ease he always gave her, but that would have to wait. The chaos was too thick. Men were screaming. The horses were shrieking. Steel rang against steel, sound clashing with the scent of freshly churned earth and sweet pine. Afina clung to the mixture like comfort, blocking out the other smells: the blood and sweat and urine.

Almost there...almost there.

The chant sounded inside her head, pushing her forward. The air cooled as she half-dragged, half-carried Dax beneath the canopy of a huge oak tree. Exposed roots made her stumble. She found her footing and kept going, all her focus on the forest and the safety it provided. A dark shadow rose in her periphery. Fuzzy at first, it gathered speed then sound, snarling from three feet away. Shielding Dax, Afina ducked and rolled, breaking their fall with her shoulder. A bloody hand, curled like a claw, swiped at her, passing overhead.

Palming her blade, she spun into a crouch. Vladimir whirled to face her. The choker clutched in his hand, he bared his teeth. Afina snarled back, daring him to come closer. Not the best move, but she didn’t have another. She needed him at dagger point. Her magic would only reach so far. The flickering heat was almost gone, warming little more than her fingertips.

“Come on then...you coward,” she said, taunting him.

“Little bitch.” He spat the words, but took the bait and charged.

Knife at the ready, she raised her free hand. The bastard lunged, reaching for her neck. Almost at her throat, Afina threw up her shield. His wrist buckled as he collided with the invisible barrier. The blood crystals shattered, exploding in a spray of uneven light. Black magic surged, filling her mouth, closing her throat, attacking her lungs. Her rib cage contracted and, choking on poison, Afina used the last of her strength to thrust the dagger forward. Steel found flesh and bone. She rammed it through to Vladimir’s heart.

Blood bubbled over the hilt to coat her hand. Too weak to stand, she hung on, watched the life drain from her enemy’s eyes and felt the emptiness in her heart. The bastard was dead. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

“Afina!”

Her name sounded warped, coming through thick layers, as though her head was under water. Her body felt it too, becoming weightless as Vladimir fell, taking her with him. The ground rose up then grabbed hold, slamming into her shoulder first. Sunlight flickered before the darkness won, stealing her focus. A shadow appeared at her side, the fuzzy outline somehow unthreatening.

“Jesu...
Draga
.” Gentle hands brushed her face then altered course. With quick efficiency, they ran over her, checking her limbs, the back of her head. Afina flinched, protesting when he touched the cut on her arm. “Easy now...be easy.”

Hmm, she recognized that voice: the strength and rhythm and warmth. “X-Xavian...”

“Shh, now. ’Tis all right.”

Her eyes slid closed. She forced them open. “I g-got him.”

“Aye, you did.” Strong arms slid beneath her shoulder blades. The pain made her cough. “Breathe, love.”

Footfalls sounded then ceased beside her. A second shadow joined Xavian’s. “Goddamn it.”

“Not now, H.” Xavian rolled her to one side and pulled, unlacing the ties at her back. “Where are the others?”

“Hamund and his crew are running the bastards down.”

Afina tried to raise her hand. She wanted to touch Xavian, stroke his face, tell him how much she loved him...how happy she was to see him. Her arm didn’t move. “Xavian.”

“Here,
draga
.” He cupped her cheek then shifted her again. Her hauberk went flying.

Cool air washed over damp skin. A violent shiver shuddered through her. “H-home.”

Setting his mouth to the corner of hers, he tugged her tunic from her leather trews. She sighed as his skin touched hers. Magic flowing between them, he murmured, “Home it is.”

Steam drifted off the surface of the water, rising toward the painted dome. Torches, seven strong, stood in their brackets, lending light to mosaic tiles and round half-pillars. Styled in the way of the Greeks, each column boasted detailed leafing, more decorative than useful. Xavian liked them anyway. The bathing chamber was one of his favorite places. A private oasis nestled deep in the earth, hundreds of feet beneath Drachaven’s great hall, surrounded by stone, protected by a fortress full of warriors.

Xavian’s lips curved. An
oasis
. Christ, he was turning into a poet. One of those sappy, lovelorn fools, and he didn’t mind a bit.

The reason lay curled in his lap, warm and rosy, all soft skin and ready curves. So enticing...so beautiful. Full-blown temptation come to life.

Shoulder-deep in the water, Xavian shifted against the rounded tub back, struggling to put a lid on his need. Afina wasn’t ready for his loving...not yet. Despite the hypnotic pull of the hot spring, she was still too tense, more in her mind than her body.

Xavian cuddled her a little closer. He could feel her pain, wanted to take it away—banish the hurt she held in her heart—but knew he couldn’t. He’d experienced the ache enough times to know there wasn’t a quick fix. All he could do was hold her and wait...be ready when she decided ’twas time to talk.

Holding her, though, was almost as good. She made him lighter somehow. Touched the soft side beneath his armored exterior until he felt, well...happy, for the first time in his life. Satisfaction had always been the safe emotion, one based on action and his accomplishments. What he felt now was different: softer, gentler, more meaningful. ’Twas hard to fathom, but he’d never been truly content, not once...until Afina.

He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. She drew a shuddered breath, tensing as a violent shiver shook her. His arms tightened around her. Jesu, he hated that she was hurting; it made him want to slay her demons and banish the shadows in her eyes. But she didn’t need another battle. She needed patience and a gentle hand.

Murmuring a simple cadence, more hum than words, he drew soft circles along her spine. Sweeping warm water over the curve of her shoulder, he chased away her goose bumps and slid a little deeper into the sunken pool. The hot spring gurgled, followed the movement, and lapped at them, disturbing the quiet.

The stillness was one of the things he liked best about the chamber. He often descended into the tunnels and came here to think, to study the mosaics spread like tapestries between the columns, watch firelight dance and listen to torches hiss. Most everything made sense to him shoulder-deep in the hot spring while the quiet hummed and the world above faded to naught. He’d come to the bath almost a half hour ago, hoping it would do the same for Afina.

He swept his hand along her thigh, worry getting the better of him. She was so quiet, so still...not like her at all. Xavian couldn’t stand it anymore.

Twirling her dark hair around his hand, he brushed the heavy mass over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck.
She whimpered, turning her face into his shoulder. He answered the call and stroked her gently. Little by little, she surrendered, letting him unravel her tension, one corded muscle at a time. The strange current they shared helped, moving like a whisper between them. Xavian breathed a silent sigh of relief as the magic gained speed, soothing her, empowering him, lending strength where he normally held none.

Like butterfly kisses, Afina’s eyelashes brushed his chest. Good, she’d opened her eyes, but was she ready to talk...to share her pain?

Xavian waited, searching for the right words.

“It’s almost healed,” she said, tracing his injury with her fingertip, voice so soft he barely heard her.