Pariah (The New Covenant Series) (17 page)

“Who is he?” I refused to answe
r any of his questions until he answered mine.

“Who mentioned Riven, Sola
ra?” he asked sternly, pinching his brows together. I saw the muscles flex in his jaw.

I crossed my arms and stared over at him. “Answer
me
, Faric. Who is Riven?” My voice began climbing louder.

Instead of answering me, h
e sat his book down between us, stood, and stalked out the door into the darkness. I jumped as the door slammed in its frame.

A couple of hours later, still seat
ed in the firelight, I wondered why he’d refused to answer me. Maybe he
was
evil as Maylon muttered while asleep. Maybe he was afraid of being found out. I was jerked from my thoughts by Maylon’s calls.

“Solara, where is the trader?” she aske
d softly, still lying covered in her bed.

“Maylon, why do you call Fari
c the trader? Why don’t you use his name?” I said and then decided to ask her, “Who is Riven?”

“How do you know of the name,
child?” she asked softly as she turned to look at me.

“You said some things in your s
leep earlier today about Riven. It seemed you were talking to him. You said not to trust Faric and that he was evil. Is Faric evil, Maylon? Please tell me. I’m scared of him now,” I admitted, grabbing her hand in mine. Her hand was cold and dry.

“You need to speak with him, Sola
ra. Tell him that if he refuses to explain everything to you that I will certainly do so. But you need to give him the chance to explain. You’ll find him at the pub at the end of the second street. Just follow the music and drunks.” She grinned, squeezing my hand. “Oh, I almost forgot”—she sat up—“I made you something. Look over there”—she pointed toward a wardrobe in the corner of her room—“On the far right. It should fit, and it will cover your mark.”

It was beautiful, simple deep
brown cotton. The fabric grazed my knees and the neckline was perfect. Cut high in the back with a stiff ruffle that curled in fitting the crook of my neck. The stiff ruffled hem traveled around and crisscrossed over my chest, enhancing ample cleavage of which I’d previously been unaware. A flat set of delicate brown leather shoes framed my feet.
Wow. I look hot!
I put my hair up in a messy bun and pulled a few strands down to soften the look. I found a charcoal pencil in Maylon’s desk drawer and used it to line my eyes and stepped into the darkness toward the lights of the town.

T
he boisterous noise of band
and bar patrons mingled in the warm summer evening air. There were no windows on the rectangular wooden structure, so I decided to slip in and try to locate Faric from the shadows. Hot air struck my face as I swung open the heavy wooden door. A lively rhythm had most people gyrating on the dance floor. Square wooden tables lined three sides of the building’s walls. The pattern was interrupted by the bar located on the far wall. Beautiful colored decanters, bottles, and glasses lined a shelf behind the bar and a plump dark-skinned man with gray hair and velvety chocolate eyes poured libations as he joked with the individuals waiting patiently for their drink orders to be filled.

I didn’t see Faric anywhere at fir
st, so I took a seat at a small table in the corner of the room draped in shadow. Knuckles rapped on the edge of my table.

A handsome young man stood
before me. His shaggy black hair was perfectly messy, and drops of sweat trailed down his temples. He smiled, and I noticed that his eyes were hazel—a perfect mixture of green and brown. His prominent nose added to his masculinity. Stubble dotted his jaw, and his smile was white and sparkling. I returned his smile.

“You are
way
too beautiful to be sittin’ here all by yourself, love. Would you like a drink and some company?” He grinned, steadying his ragged breathing.

I smiled and said, “Sure. Why not?
” He asked what I’d like to drink and confirmed that they should have my favorite coconut liquor—like from introduction night. He nodded at bartender getting his attention and yelled our requests over to him, and as he waited for our drinks, he turned around, resting his elbows on the bar behind him, revealing his sculpted chest. I gulped. He stared at me, smiling until the barkeep tapped his shoulder and handed our drinks over.

“The name’s Jonas. Coconut for the lady,” he said, smiling and
placing the green glass in my hand.

“I’m Solara, but my friends call me Lara.”

He quirked a brow. “Can I be a friend then?”

“Sure. But that’s all. I’m marr
ied.” He groaned and I laughed, taking a sip of the delicious divinity. The coconut filled my senses. I hadn’t even realized that the music had stopped until they began to play again, and a stout man of forty-ish stood at the front of the stage. “We have a treat for ya tonight. The trader’s gonna play!” he announced, and a loud roar of applause rippled through the crowd. My breath caught in my throat. Faric stepped forward, holding a guitar. I didn’t know he played.

Wait? Trader? His face was u
ncovered! Oh my goodness. Faric was the trader and here, he was able to reveal his identity. Why did he cloak himself while in the kingdom?

“So, Lara, would ya dance wi
th me? As a friend, of course.” Jonas smiled, extending a hand to me.

“I can’t dance well, but I’d
love to,” I said, accepting his invitation. His hands were warm and slightly rough but strong. He pulled me into the crowd who was already dancing.

He grabbed my waist, pullin
g me quickly to him. My stomach pressed hard against his.
Oh my
. I grabbed his extended hand and laughed as he swirled us into motion with the others in the crowd. I offered a silent prayer not to injure his toes or fall down.

Soon, sweat beaded over my
skin, and my hair even began to fall limp from the jostling and humidity that all of the dancing bodies emitted. Jonas was sweet, only taking his eyes off of mine to make sure we weren’t going to crash into anyone else. I was concentrating so hard on not making a fool of myself I didn’t have time to look up at Faric. The fast tempo of the song bled into another and another.

Then finally, a slow melody filled the air. No one complained
about the change of pace, most seeming thankful for having a chance to catch their breath and grab a drink, or three. Jonas led us back to the table and slammed his beer back as I took a gulp of coconut sin. After a few more large sips, I felt fuzzy and warm and started giggling.

“Let’s not miss the slow ones
, Lara!” He grinned, pulling me back into the crowd. I held my hand out to grab his hand, but he grabbed mine and put both of my hands behind his neck and traced the outside of my arms down to my sides, landing on my waist. Faric stood to the stage’s side, strumming his guitar, looking blankly into the crowd. Until that is, until his eyes found mine and widened in disbelief. His gaze fell over my body and then stopped cold on Jonas. He stopped strumming for a moment, but then started back up again, lips pressed tightly together.
Crap.

“Why haven’t I seen you around
here before?” Jonas asked. His sweet, malty breath swam over my face.

“Oh, I’ve never been here before,” I admitted.

“Never been to the bar or to the settlement?” he inquired, grinning with his head cocked to the side as he swayed our bodies perfectly to the slow rhythm.

“Yes.” I laughed. “I’ve never been to either.”

“I would certainly have remembered you, Lara. You’re very beautiful. Will you be staying here for a while?” he asked.

“At the bar or the settlement?” I asked playfully.

“Yes,” he retorted.

I glanced back at Faric,
whose eyes were trained on us. Squirming, I tried to put some distance between me and Jonas. Faric stepped to the front of the stage and started playing a hauntingly slow melody that drifted like smoke through the crowd, who started swaying in obedience. Then his gravelly deep voice cut through the noisy bar. Silence filled the air. Jonas pulled me close. It was good to just be held. Just to feel like a normal girl for a minute. Not a newlywed, not the chosen, just Solara. Even if it was a mirage, I wanted to dive in to the crystal-clear water in front of me, swim in this feeling until my fingers pruned. With each turn, I noticed Faric’s gaze—hard and steely trained on us. What was his problem? Maybe he just didn’t want me here because he was performing or something. Maybe he was still angry.

Whatever it was,
I made up my mind to ignore him and continue to have fun with my new friend Jonas. When the song ended, Jonas grabbed my hand and carved a path to our table. All around us, girls sat perched upon the laps of their men, husbands or boyfriends, lovers. Jonas sat in a wooden chair beside me; his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me over to him.

I didn’t protest his arm around m
e; after all, we’d been dancing like that all evening, but there was no way I would end up on his lap. I was not lap candy, especially for some guy I’d just met and barely knew. He never pushed his luck though just kept his arm around my waist as we talked. Jonas was very talkative, and for that I was thankful. He talked about his family. He had seven sisters and was the youngest, so his stories were hilarious.

A bouncy, fun rhythm filled
the room, and Jonas nodded his head back toward the dance floor and smiled. “It’s my favorite.” He laughed. “Come on, Lara.” I grabbed his hand and laughed. He pulled me tight, widened his eyes and said, “Let’s go.” With that, we took off, galloping along with the others to the fun beat.

The song ended too soon. I wa
s having a blast. I put my hand on my chest to catch my breath and laughed. Jonas put both hands on his knees and looked up at me laughing too. His breath was ragged. Then his smile faded, and his eyes drew attention to something behind me. I turned around to see Faric standing there. He was so close to me. His chest almost touched my shoulder. And he looked pissed.
Great.

“May I cut in?” he asked, his t
eal eyes hard as stone. He held a hand out, waiting for me to accept it. The band began a slow sweet melody. A tall skinny brown-haired man clad in head to toe light brown clothing began singing. I recognized the song from Wesley’s class. I took his hand, looking at Jonas, who had straightened and crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jonas,” I said, “this is Faric. He
’s a friend of mine. I’ll catch up with you in a few, okay.” My eyes hopefully plead with him to understand the intrusion and Faric’s rudeness
. What? Was he marking his territory?
Jonas, glanced at me and said he’d wait at the table before walking away. When he got there, he threw his beer back, wiped the drips from his face with the back of his hand, and sat down, staring in our direction.

Crap. Just one night of normal. Is that really so much to ask?
Faric held me back from him a bit. Jonas had fearlessly held me as we danced, pressing us both together without hesitation. Faric’s hand stayed steady on the small of my back, and his rough fingers clamped down on my clammy hand. I cleared my throat and met his gaze. “You sounded great up there. I didn’t know you played or sang. You were awesome.”

“Thanks.” His terse response was a testament to his anger.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked, growing tired of his piss poor attitude. He was acting as if I’d forced him to dance. Jonas, on the other hand, actually seemed to enjoy my company.

“No.” He looked away.

I’d had enough and let go of his hand and pushed away from him, but the hand around my waist caught me. “Don’t go, Lara. It’s just a dance. You’ve obviously been enjoying your dances this evening.” He nodded toward Jonas.

“What? So I’m not allowed to have fun. Am I not permitted to dance?” I asked indignantly.

“You certainly have been,” he said through gritted teeth.

I looked at him and snarled, “Yes, I have been. And if you hadn’t been such a jerk earlier, I would have been dancing with you all evening. But you ran away from Maylon’s. She encouraged me to come and talk to you, but you have been busy on stage.”

“So I’m not supposed to play?” he said in disgust.

“No. You
are
supposed to play. And
I
can dance when and with whom I please.” I wanted to go to Jonas. “We are not married, Faric. We are not together. We are just friends, and I can dance with Jonas if I want to.
He’s
just a friend. Friends and freedom are things I’ve never had. I don’t expect you to understand, but I do ask that you respect it. I’m having fun and
he
actually enjoys my company, so if you’ll excuse me.” I tried to pull away again, but he pulled me closer, flush against his body.

He inhaled deeply and lo
oked at me and said, “I know we aren’t married or together. But I don’t like you dancing with him.”

“Why? Why don’t you like me dancing with him
? He’s been a perfect gentleman. I just wanted to make a friend. Why can’t you understand that?” Good Lord, the man infuriated me and exhausted me simultaneously, and I didn’t even know that was possible.

“I understand that,” he said, softening his eyes an
d voice. “I just feel...protective of you.”

“Okay. Well, I guess I apprec
iate your concern, but Jonas is harmless. Give him a chance. Come with me and talk to him. He’s hilarious.”

“Hey, do you know any of Wes
ley’s songs?” he asked, looking down at me with one brow lifted.

“Yes. I know most of them. Unless they are brand new, I guess.”

“Do you know “The Moon Song”?”

“Yes. Why?” I asked. It was a beautiful song. I’d heard Wes
strum along and sing it as well. And though I didn’t know it at the time, it had been that melody that he’d been playing on his cello the day I walked in on him shirtless and—
Focus, Solara,
I keep on telling myself.

“Will you sing it with me in a few?”

“What? No. I don’t sing well and definitely don’t sing in front of crowds. You’re doing great.” I stepped backward. The band had started a very fast song, and the crowd started writhing and jumping along with it. I grabbed Faric, and we stepped to the side. He grinned at me. “I’ve heard you sing it. You sound beautiful. Please, just sing in the background or just the chorus. I’ve always thought it would sound lovely for a woman to be a part of the song.”

“Fine. Then we’ll talk ab
out everything. About Riven and everything?” I was bargaining with the trader and hoped he’d find this a fair exchange, though it was hard for me to fathom Faric being the trader and a guard in the kingdom simultaneously. His smile dropped, but he agreed to my terms. After two more lively songs, Faric strapped his guitar on and led me out on stage with him. He introduced me, and all of my internal organs began to shake. Jonas and friends pushed their way to the front. Jonas grabbed a girl about our age from her perch at the bar so he could dance along too, but he kept his eyes set on me. I rocked back and forth, heel to toe, wringing my hands. They were sweaty.