Return (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (19 page)

"What- what about you?" Kou said, switching languages awkwardly. "You're of no real use to us. We will leave you here."

The red-haired man gave a long-suffering sigh. "Nice to feel wanted."

Kou moved to the side, exposing a small red door that Ashlyn hadn't seen before.

"Go," he said, shoving Vargo into the doorway (well, actually, he shoved the Spartan
into
the unlatched door and as a result
through
the doorway, but she wasn't one to split hairs). He held out a brass key to Ashlyn. "Left at the corridor. Second door on the right. Stay there until I come for you."

Ashlyn grabbed Vargo by his collar, making sure he didn't get too far ahead of her, and glared at Kou. "Where will you be?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say
duh.
"I'm going to watch your friends."

"Oh, dream
on
. I'm not going to stand by while you
hurt
them like you hurt Drake-"

Kou shook his head, exasperated. "No harm will come to them, I promise you. Injuring a member of FLD would be detrimental to our cause."

"Detrimental? Our
cause
? Can you please stop talking like a freaking textbook?"

His dark eyes flashed. "What I mean, Lady Li," he said stiffly, "is that attacking FLD would inform them as to our location. I will merely observe. I won't harm them."

"I don't think so. That's just a veiled excuse for not attacking until after they see you. I'm sorry, Kou, but I don't trust you."

Vargo made as if to climb the staircase inside, and Ashlyn pulled him back. He sighed and let her push him up against the open door, obviously impatient for the argument to be over. "Stay there," she told him, and said to Kou, "You stay with Vargo and
I'll
watch FLD."

"They'll recognize you," the younger man said, his tone threaded with irritation.

This time she didn't bother switching to Toryn. "No more than they'll recognize you. You were a prisoner on the airship
long before
I was a fugitive to my friends."

"Two days really doesn't count as
long before
, I don't think," Vargo said, still pinned against the door.

Ashlyn and Kou ignored him, glaring at each other.

"I'm going," Kou said finally, teeth gritted. "You're staying with the Spartan."

Ashlyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this was going nowhere. "Over my dead body. What makes you think I'm going to stand by idly while you stalk the few remaining friends I have?"

He seemed to consider her words, and offered, "I give you my word. I will not harm them."

"Your word?" she said skeptically.

"Yes."

"You won't hurt them."

"I won't hurt them."

"Even if they attack you."

"Even if they attack me."

"Swear it," she ordered. "On the holy scales."

His expression was pure frustration. "I swear on the scales of the sovereign deity Drago, I will not harm your friends."

Ashlyn paused, contemplating. On one hand, she wanted to believe him. They were both sworn to the ninja code and thereby to the religion of the Toryn. Swearing on the scales was like walking the edge of a razorblade. If you slipped, you were as good as dead.

On the other hand, she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Skye, Restlyn or whoever else might be involved. That seemed like an awfully big risk to take on faith alone.

But it was the best offer she was going to get. And
Ashlyn had some idea that her friends were probably prepared for an attack; if Kou tried, he wouldn't accomplish much.

"Fine. I'll stay with Vargo. You…" She trailed off, unsure. Ah, heck. "Be careful."

The younger ninja nodded, looking relieved. "You also, Lady Li. I will return for you when it is time." He turned away, nodded courteously to Vargo as he did so.

Ashlyn bit her lip as she watched him walk away. "Don't forget about me," she called.

Kou glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Not likely, Lady."

"Not likely my foot," she muttered grumpily, shoving Vargo towards the staircase. "You better come back."

Vargo kicked out uselessly at the baton as he began climbing the stairs. "Will you stop jabbing me with that damn thing? I'm moving already. You don't need to punch me full of holes to prove your point."

"Shut up," she said, without feeling.

It was a winding staircase, narrow and spiraling up into nothingness. Just when she thought she saw the end up ahead, another window looking out at the dark rooftops would appear, and the lantern-light would fall on a whole new slew of stairs. Ashlyn hadn't even known there
was
a second floor to the inn at Industry. It sure didn't look like it from the outside. Go figure.

"Finally," Vargo announced, stomping hard on the last stair before he stepped up onto the polished hardwood of a constricted corridor. He looked up and down the narrow hallway before glancing back at Ashlyn. "Where to, boss lady?"

"Turn left. Second door on the right." She hated climbing stairs. Aaron had recounted the story of breaking into the power plant at Endro too many times for her to count, and while it was exciting and pulse-pounding, and she would have given
anything
to have been there, she probably wouldn't have made it into the building even if she'd been a part of the team at that point. Sneaking up sixty flights of stairs was not her idea of a good time. Heck, climbing one flight of stairs was pretty much her idea of cruel and unusual punishment.

She unlocked the door and let Vargo into the small room that would serve as their home for the night. There were two twin beds lined up against the far wall, a worn bureau shoved between them. There was also a futon next to the door and a window overlooking the entrance to Industry on their left. Other than that, the room was bare.

"Not much in the way of entertainment," Ashlyn observed.

Vargo leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, bound hands resting across them. "Please tell me I don't have to spend the entire night alone here with you," he said.

"I'm leaving before dawn." She chose to ignore the insult in his comment, and looked out the window instead. She gave Vargo a compulsory glance. "Do you know who came here?"

"Hmm?" He was staring at the ceiling, the scars on his face stretching boldly across his cheekbones in the lamplight.

Ashlyn looked away. "From FLD. I wonder who Skye sent here, to Industry. You were at Eastern City. Aik would still be researching, and I can't see Aaron leaving the airship."

"Skye and Restlyn were the only ones left on the airship when they left me in Eastern City," he said. "Besides Aaron."

"So it's them." She took a deep breath. "I'm glad they're together. Maybe…"

Vargo waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he said, "Maybe what?"

"I was just thinking…" She plopped down in front of the bed, still clutching the electro-baton. Her skirt poofed out around her, riding up her legs, and she smoothed it down with one hand. "I know Skye cares for her."

"He'll never tell her that."

Their eyes met.

"How do you know that? They were inseparable while we were, you know, saving the world and all. Now they're together again. What is it, if not fate?"

"Babe, there's plenty of ways to be together and still suffer
miles
between you." He broke eye contact, stared at his hands. "I've listened to the stories. I know what happened. Skye ain't never gonna get over Jenn. And that's sad, because Jenn never had eyes for nobody but Jax, but Skye can't see that. That's just the way it is."

"I hope you're wrong."

"So do I," he said, surprising her.

It began to rain outside; Ashlyn could hear it pounding on the roof.

"Do you miss Lord Angelo?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Hell, no." He fidgeted. "Maybe a little. Remember the speech I gave you back on the airship?"

"The 'I believe in what I'm fighting for this time, yadda yadda yadda' speech? Oh, yeah."

"Glad to know it meant so much for me to spill my guts to you," he said, scowling.

"No, I…" Great. She felt like a jerk now. "It meant a lot. I didn't mean to tease. Yes, I remember your speech."

"I meant it."

"Really?"

"Every word." He worked his fingers underneath the rope, scratching idly at his wrist. "We're doing the right thing now. The only thing I miss about Lord Angelo is the certainty of power."

"Certainty of power?" Ashlyn repeated. "What do you mean?"

He frowned, looking like he was trying to think of a way to explain his thoughts. "The DEMON army wasn't going to fall. It was a for-sure thing. Jackson's a good president, he's doing a great job and all, but there's always a question of whether he'll still be in control tomorrow. Take this war with Toryn, for example."

"Toryn and Lord Angelo battled for years," Ashlyn said. Her mother had died in that war.

"But Lord Angelo won, and there was never any doubt."

She thought about it. The Toryn people had prayed, battled, trained and sacrificed for that war. She barely remembered it, had been a small child when her people were defeated and Lord Angelo took over. But she remembered the pride that her kinsmen had displayed over the years, and knew that it had only been lessened a little by the loss to Lord Angelo. Her father had suffered the worst of it, and she suspected that was only because her mother had passed away so unexpectedly.

When she looked up, Vargo was staring at her. He didn't look away this time. "You have your thinking face on."

"I prefer 'deliberation face,'" she said. "Sounds more professional."

"What are you deliberating?"

You. Me. The world as we know it. "Nothing, really."

"Right." Sarcasm dripped from his voice like bitter honey.

"You don't believe me?"

"I'm tied up and my wrists have rope burns," he said. "Not too inclined to believe much of anything at this point."

"Ah. So now you're holding that against me. I told you not to move too much."

"I think it was more the manhandling that did it." He gave her a pointed look, and Ashlyn smiled weakly. She'd been so concerned about Drake, she hadn't stopped to consider what yanking the ropes around might do to Vargo.

"You goaded me into it," she muttered.

It was a feeble excuse, but he didn't try to dispute it.

Ashlyn glanced at him after a minute. "Do you want me to take those off?" she asked, jerking her chin towards his wrists, resting on his knees.

A slow, delicious smile spread across his face, and Ashlyn realized belatedly how many different ways her offer could be taken. "Don't even," she said when he opened his mouth. "If you're going to be gross, then don't even bother."

His mood changed abruptly, for the second time that day. "Is that how you see me?" Anger curled around his tone like something tangible, like fury needles stabbing each word with a vengeance. "Something gross, something disgusting?"