Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

The door creaked open. Jasminda scrambled to the edge of the cot and retrieved her knife from her thigh. She reached for Earthsong, but the energy slipped from her grasp. Agitation wormed its way into every part of her. She would have to be far calmer in order to control her Song.

“Jasminda. It’s me.”

She relaxed as Jack’s head came into view from behind a stack of boxes. His eyes lingered on her legs as she set her skirt back into place. Her face grew hot.

He pulled a box close to her cot and sat, looking around the tiny space. “How do you like the accommodations?”

“It’s no cave floor, but it will serve.”

Exhaustion tarnished his face, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from him. He was so beautiful. She struggled to push the thought away, but then he reached for her hand, interlocking their fingers, and she lost the battle. Her breath caught in her chest as she delighted in the feel of his skin.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

“I’ve been worse.”

“And you’ve been better?”

He seemed enraptured by their joined hands. He stroked her skin with his thumb. “How is it that your skin is so soft?”

“It’s the balm.” She shrugged as a shiver raced through her. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“My brother . . . is dead.” His voice was even and measured. He spoke the words like they were just another fact of the day. The sun rose. The rain fell. His brother died. Jasminda’s heart seized.

Her mouth hung open as she struggled to find the words to say. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jack.”

He stared off into the distance. “He was piloting his airship and ran into a thunderstorm. The craft crashed. He was thrown through the window.” With a shake of his head, he turned to her. She trembled at the intensity in his eyes. “I haven’t told you all you need to know about me.”

In fact, she knew very little. He’d proven himself kind and honorable. He protected her and cared for others more than himself. In this strange place, he was the only thing that made her feel safe, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. But he obviously came from a rich and influential family. His brother
owned
an airship. She wanted to know him better, if such a thing were possible. Wanted to so much it hurt.

“Will you tell me?”

“I want to, but let us wait until tomorrow, if that is all right. It is not something I want to think about now. Worries on top of worries.”

She smiled sadly, a tendril of unease creeping its way through her. “Of course.”

They sat in silence for a while as she tried not to allow her fears to get the better of her. What exactly did she expect of him? No matter what his secrets were, he was a high-ranking Elsiran military leader and she a
grol
witch. What else did she need to know?

But there he was in front of her, his pain so clear. She longed to be able to soothe him.

“Was he your only family?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “My mother lives in Fremia now.”

“Has she been told?”

“She’s in seclusion. But we are half brothers. Were . . . His mother is long passed. He and I were never close. We didn’t see eye to eye, but . . .”

“But he was kin.”

Jack nodded. “Kin. And now it falls to me.”

He stroked each of her knuckles and massaged the delicate skin between her fingers.

“What falls to you?”

“I—” He dropped his head. Shook it. “It is late. You should rest.”

“Tomorrow then.” She let her hand slip from his.

Neither of them moved.

“Jack, what do you see when you look at me?”

He gazed at her questioningly.

“Your men . . . they see me as the enemy. How is it you don’t?”

“You’re not the enemy. Did someone say something to you?” Anger sparked behind his eyes, and she grasped his arm.

“No, no. Just . . . they think it.”

“Does Earthsong tell you that?”

She shook her head. “I can just tell.”

“You’re safe here, I promise.”

She wanted to believe him, but she’d never let her guard down. Elsira may be a beloved homeland to him, but for her, it was just as foreign as Lagrimar. She lay down on the cot, pulling the thin blanket up over her. He slid off the box and onto the ground, stretching out beside her.

Jasminda sat up so fast the room spun. “You’re going to sleep here?”

“I made you a promise, and I plan to keep it.” He settled back, hands behind his head. The bottom of his new, freshly pressed army-issued shirt rose, revealing a thin strip of skin on his abdomen.

“You don’t need to do that. You can’t sleep on the ground!”

“I’ve been doing it for the past few weeks. Another night won’t hurt anything.”

“But you have a whole set of rooms here. With comfortable beds, I’m sure.”

He pinned her with his gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His face softened. “Besides, this is better than sleeping standing up, which I’ve done a time or two. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

She lay on her side, facing him. Her finger traced a random pattern on the thin pillow, her thoughts delving into forbidden territory. His breath rose and fell slowly and could not take her eyes off the muscles of his stomach. The thin strip of hair disappearing into his pants. If he insisted on staying here, she couldn’t stop him. But it would not do for him to sleep on the ground.

Perhaps . . .

“You could probably fit on the cot.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

Without a word, he stood and slid in next to her. There was just enough room for both of them to lay on their sides. His body warmed her back. His arm curled around her waist. She gathered her hair to one side so it would not be in his face, closed her eyes, and leaned further into his embrace.

The stress and uncertainty of the past days melted away as she settled in his arms. She’d woken up like this today. She wouldn’t mind waking like this every day. Aghast at the thought, she froze, not even allowing a breath to escape.

“What’s wrong?” Jack whispered into her neck.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” She pulled his hand tight against her stomach, both excited and afraid of her feelings. His breath on her neck was her only warning before his lips brushed the skin there. She shuddered as goose bumps prickled her flesh. He kissed her again.

“Jack,” she whispered.

His only response was another kiss, closer to where her neck met her shoulder.

“I haven’t ever . . . I mean, I want—”

“What do you want, Jasminda?” he said, running his lips across her skin.

She was afraid to say it out loud. While her head knew Papa’s dowry was little more than wishful thinking on his part, her heart longed for a family of her own, a husband, or even a lover. Though the embers of these secret longings had grown cold during her years of solitude, they’d never fully been extinguished.

Jack nudged the fabric of her dress aside to press a kiss to her shoulder. “Tell me. I’ll give you anything I can.”

She burned from his kisses, each touch of his lips a forbidden desire made real. She turned to face him but kept her gaze at his chest. He wiped the tears that had started to fall and tenderly kissed each cheek.

“Some things are not for me.” She forced herself to look him in the eye. Her fingers hovered over his lips until she found the strength to trace them. The full bow of his bottom lip called to her. “You aren’t for me.”

“So why is it that I can’t stop thinking about you?”

She drew closer, transfixed by his mouth. One taste—that’s all she would allow herself. One kiss just to know what it was like. Her lips met his, and a spark of electricity flooded her. The soft press and sheer strength of him made her dizzy. His heat radiated through her whole body as his fingers threaded through her hair, pulling them together. When his tongue prodded her gently, she opened, giving him entry.

She lost herself in his kiss, drawn under by the insistent waves that warmed her belly and gave rise to a host of butterflies.

When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, he captured her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her palm. Their foreheads met, and he stroked her cheek. Sliding an arm beneath her, he rolled them so he was on his back with her on top of him. He rested his hands on her lower back, and she longed to feel them everywhere, moving across her body, cooling her heated flesh.

He kissed her again, and she wiggled on top of him, wanting to burrow herself under his skin. Her thigh brushed against something rigid and she froze. Jack turned his head to the side and exhaled a breath.

“Please don’t move.” His voice was tightly controlled, his breathing ragged.

She stifled a giggle and rubbed her thigh against his erection again. Jack gave a mock roar, and in one movement, he swapped their positions and hovered over her on shaky arms. His eyes were intense, cloaked in desire, and she reached up to kiss him. She stroked his jaw, then slid her hand down his chest to his belly, stopping at his belt. His dark gaze was a plea. She moved downward, barely grazing his erection before he trapped her hand in his and placed it next to her head. He grabbed her other hand in a preemptive strike and shook his head. He kissed her once more, hard, before rising from the cot. She rolled to face him as he settled on the ground again.

“You can come back. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I don’t want to make you an oath-breaker. And I will make no such promises.” His gaze stoked the fire within her, and she fell back on the thin mattress, a swirl of directionless desire.

“Tonight, we should sleep,” he said. “I do not want to do something that you will regret.”

“Would
you
regret it?”

He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips. “No. But it is not my virtue we are speaking of.” He kept her hand in his as he stretched out on the ground.

Her virtue. She’d feared it would be intact until the day she died. That she would never meet a man who desired her. But she had felt Jack’s desire, had seen it in his eyes. Could there be some kind of future that included her and Jack as lovers? The stories from the magazines were full of clandestine meetings and secret trysts. Marriage, children—those dreams of normalcy were closed to her. From the day she was born, her life had never been normal, but perhaps she could create the life she wanted, even if it was unusual. Perhaps she could create it with Jack.

“They found her.”

Jack looked up from the papers on his desk. “Found who?”

His assistant, Benn, stood just outside the office, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe. “The farm girl, the one the mob was looking for. Turns out she ran off with her beau.”

Jack dropped his pen and sat back heavily in his chair, letting out a curse. “Has the magistrate identified everyone involved?”

Benn stepped into the room and closed the door. “He claims to be having a difficult time. None of the men are talking.”

Jack stood abruptly, toppling his chair. “They killed ninety men.
Innocent
men. If the magistrate is unable to do his job and find those responsible, I’ll find someone who can. Tell him that.”

Benn nodded. “What else is troubling you?”

“Is that not enough?” Jack snorted.

His assistant eyed the mess on Jack’s desk, which was usually kept in pristine neatness.

“The Council.” Jack shook his head and shuffled the papers in front of him. “The Sisterhood doesn’t have the resources to care for all the arriving refugees. Another group came over the mountain just this morning, twenty kilometres north of here. We will have to help with their care, but the Council is refusing to respond to my cables.”

“Perhaps after the coronation—”

“Yes, I’ll have to wait until then,” he interrupted. “We’ll need additional funds for the troop buildup here, and they’re just not bloody listening.” He turned to the low window that looked out over the squat buildings of the base. “A bunch of old bureaucrats sticking their heads in the sand.”

“In a day’s time, they’ll have to listen to you.” Benn came to stand by him, offering his presence as support. He was a good man, one Jack trusted, who had been with him for close to three years, traveling from base to base without complaint. He had a young family of his own back in Rosira that he probably didn’t see often enough.

“In a day’s time, any freedom I had will be gone.” He held back a sigh. Responsibility beckoned, but every step that brought him closer to the capital took him farther from Jasminda. He would give anything to stop time and spend an eternity the way he had last night, even if it did mean sleeping on the ground. But the city would swallow him up as it had his mother, to the point where she’d had to escape to another country to find any peace. After tomorrow, he was unlikely to have even a moment to himself, much less one to spare to lie in Jasminda’s arms.

What he couldn’t tell her last night, what he didn’t want to think about was that once they arrived in Rosira, his life would not be his own. His duties would overwhelm his entire life. He would see her settled somewhere safe, make sure she was taken care of, but anything more was only wishful thinking.

“How do you stand being so far away from them?” Jack’s voice was thick as he tried to swallow his emotion.

“Ella and the baby?” A smile crept onto Benn’s face. “She writes every day. Told me just yesterday she’s having a phone line put in. It will cost a fortune, but it will be worth it to hear her voice more often.”

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Jasminda’s sleep-coarsened voice wishing him well as he’d left her that morning. He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit stiff from his night on the ground.

“What we do here keeps them safe,” Benn continued. “I could have joined my father on the docks back home and seen them every day, but then I wouldn’t be sure . . . I wouldn’t know I was doing everything I could to protect them.”

Jack inhaled deeply and let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to go back there.”

Benn looked up, chagrined. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know. Duty calls me to Rosira, so I must go. But I want to be sure, too. I don’t want to leave . . . those I care for unprotected, either.”