Tara The Great [Nuworld 2] (6 page)

through her thoughts. She blinked and closed her eyes, trying to capture the fleeing

thoughts and make sense of them. Her sister’s sneering face appeared in her mind’s eye,

and Tara frowned and wanted to punch her. Then the fight refocused and Tara

imagined beating her sister all over again. She attempted a fist, then felt momentary

confusion when her hand didn’t immediately cooperate.

A sudden vision of a baby boy took over her thoughts, and Tara experienced a foul

taste in her mouth. She tried licking her lips and realized her tongue felt like sandpaper,

and her lips seemed too thick. A lump grew in her gut as the baby looked up at her,

reached for her. Tara tried to mouth the word, no. Her mouth still wouldn’t cooperate,

but tears formed in her eyes. The lump in her gut threatened to explode as she saw that

child’s face—a face looking so like her own son’s face. But this child wasn’t her son.

How could she endure the pain of this child’s existence?

She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Tears fogged her vision, and she

tried moving her hands again. One hand finally budged, but a weight blocked her from

moving it to her face.

She lay on a thick wool blanket and another one covered her. Darius’ leather jacket

draped over the top of the blanket providing extra warmth. Tara slid her hand from

under the blankets, and touched her face. With as much delicacy as she could muster,

she ran her fingers along the sore on her forehead, then licked her lips and felt them

with her fingers.

The image of the child still lingered in her thoughts, and she couldn’t determine if

the pain from the knowledge of him was worse than the pain of her physical injuries.

Darius had another child. Her sister’s child. A bastard.

The man sat several feet away, tending a fire. The brightness from the flames

splashed around the campsite. A small wild turkey rotated on a stick over the flames.

Tara sat up slowly and groaned as her head fought the gravity.

“You’ll feel queasy for a while until the drug wears off.” He didn’t look up. “Then

you’ll just feel the pain, you will. I’d say at least three ribs might be broken.”

“Why did you come here when I told you not to?”

“My lady, in case you’ve forgotten, you’re heir to the Runner clans, you are. Your

papa’s still alive, yes. You do not lead yet, and therefore have no rank. Also, you chased

your sister out of Blood Circle land, which is the only land Runners have jurisdiction in.

You’re in Gothman territory, you are. Again, you’ve no jurisdiction. I’m Lord of

Gothman.”

She clenched her teeth. The man couldn’t possibly think she had no say in the

matters of his bastard. Rank had nothing to do with this.

Her head ached the more she thought about it, and she took slow breaths to ease

the pain. “Why are we still here?” She pulled the leather coat around her shoulder to

block the mountain chill.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea to move you on a bike right now, I’d say.” He poured

hot tea into a large mug and brought it over to her.

Tara wondered when he would have thought to pack all these provisions on his

bike, but couldn’t rouse herself to worry about it. She looked at the cup but made no

move to accept it.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“A little late for thoughts like that,” she snapped.

He sighed, took her hand, and put the warm cup in it. “I thought you were dead

when your sister—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” Tara shut her eyes and shook her head.

“I want you to hear this, I do.” He lifted her face and forced her to meet his eyes.

She felt groggy and had little resistance to fight him. “What I did to your sister…not

even she deserved, she didn’t. I’m actually amazed she lived through it.” He took a

deep breath and glanced into her eyes, rubbing her cheekbone with his thumb. “I’d left

Gothman, I had. I couldn’t accept the fact you were dead and was so angry with myself

for letting you get away, I couldn’t focus on anything else, no. Patha suggested I travel

so I could pull myself together. He said it always worked for him, he did.”

She didn’t look away from him when he paused.

He glanced at her, then looked up toward the stars. “I’ll deny ever saying this, but I

tell you now, I wasn’t fit to rule, I wasn’t. I don’t like being out of control of a situation,

and it outraged me that you had slipped through my fingers, it did. I couldn’t think

straight and everyone annoyed me. I refused to allow anyone to say you were dead, I

did. And, I despised the Neurians.” He faced her now and let his gaze penetrate her.

“More than once, I wanted to travel down there with an army larger than a city, and kill

those Neurians one by one for taking you from me.”

Tara fought the urge to reassure him he had no way of knowing she was still alive.

She buried the thoughts. She wasn’t ready to release her outrage.

“That particular night,” he continued, “I’d driven since before sunrise and had just

set up camp, I had. I was numbing all thoughts, so to speak. I wanted to pass out and

not be able to dream. The more whiskey I drank, the angrier I got. It wasn’t working.

Instead of going numb, the whiskey fueled my outrage, yes. That’s when she showed

up.”

“Darius,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear how he’d slept with her sister.

“Nothing you can say—”

He interrupted by gently placing his hand on her mouth. “Tara, you must know

I’ve remained loyal to you, I have.”

“My sister has your child.” Tara struggled to say the words and instinctively took a

gulp of the tea. She immediately felt a sickening sweetness sink down her throat and

saturate her stomach, as it likewise floated to her head. The fumes from the scent of the

tea floated around her.

She looked up at Darius and struggled to focus on his face. “Opium,” she said after

a long minute.

Darius smiled gently and ran his fingers through her hair. “There’s no reason for

you to feel all this pain, I’m thinking.”

“Or try to go anywhere,” she added and forced herself to remain sober. “Darius,

that child is in line as heir to the Gothman nation. He’s a threat to Andru and Ana.”

“I’m aware of that.” His tone turned fierce. Tara had hit a nerve. He ran his fingers

through his hair as if now the conversation was unpleasant for him.

Tara relished his discomfort. She continued to fight the opium high, struggling to

keep her thoughts in order. She didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity to catch

him with his defenses down. The man thought he could justify his actions and she did

not see them as justifiable. His actions were unforgivable and she wanted him to realize

that.

“As soon as I found out she was pregnant, I sent several men to bring her to me.

Whether the child was mine or not, I would force her into an abortion. She disappeared

from the clan before I could capture her. She reappeared with Kuro less than a cycle

before the Test of Wills. When the Blood Circle Clan left, she went with them. Patha and

I remained in contact until they lost transmission in the mountains. He informed me she

was having problems from some still-damaged internal organs. I thought she’d die, I

did.”

“Why didn’t you kill her when you had the chance?”

He looked at her quickly and his face turned to stone. “I thought it would hurt her

more to let her live.” His tone was ice.

Tara’s head was swimming. The opium had full effect over her, and she discovered

she couldn’t organize her thoughts into words.

Darius scooted forward and put his arm around her.

She wasn’t able to protest, but every inch of her body wanted his hands off her.

Gently, he moved her into a lying position, wrapping the blankets around her, and

once again draping his leather jacket over the blankets. “Get some sleep, my lady, yes.”

She tried to protest, but the blankets imprisoned her and the opium took over.

* * * * *

Darius watched the flames dance in the fire, trying to escape from themselves. He’d

told Tara the truth. That particular night over a winter ago had been a night to forget.

Yet for Tara’s sake he had conjured the memory and shared it with her. She had to

know that he wouldn’t have done that for just anyone.

Tasha had made a terrible mistake.

Darius could tell Tara recognized that truth. Tasha never should have approached a

Gothman drinking alone; the woman was no more than a stupid bitch. Any Gothman

would have been in his right for treating her like the whore she was known to be.

As for that bastard, Darius wouldn’t have Tasha claiming him as the papa. Darius

would see to it. And now that he had shared the details of that ridiculous rendezvous

he had with Tara’s sister, his conscience was clear. When Tara mended and her head

was clear, he would tell her his decision on the matter. Then it would be Tara’s job to

get over it.

He sighed deeply, thinking about what he’d just told her. There was no attraction to

Tasha. She was beautiful, like her sister, but ruined and ugly inside. The woman was a

whore and had nothing to offer. Tara had everything.

He glanced over at her sleeping body. Even with her swollen face, she was

beautiful. He’d seen worse and her wounds would heal.

She’d put up quite a fight with Tasha. Darius knew if he and Patha had been

minutes later, Tara would have killed her sister. Tasha’s life had been spared a second

time.

Tasha had to be seriously injured, though. Maybe she would die yet.

No, her papa would see to it that she lived. Patha loved both his daughters.

Tasha had run to her clan for protection from Darius after Kuro died, and Patha had

given it to her. When Darius had sent his men to bring Tasha to him, Patha had

intervened, sending them on their way.

Patha seldom interfered with Darius’ wishes. Darius hadn’t pressed the issue after

that. He’d had no desire to cross Patha. The man was old, but he had earned Darius’

respect. He was an obstacle Darius had yet to figure out how to overcome.

But Patha wouldn’t live forever. If Tasha were still alive when Patha died, Darius

would see to her death.

But what about that fight? Surely, that was a sign of how much Tara must love him.

Otherwise his claim wouldn’t insist he remain faithful to her, wouldn’t be bothered by