The Royal Hunter (14 page)

“Yeah.” But even as he said it, he realized it for the automatic response that it was. He refused to ponder that further. “It was what I hired on to do. I have no choice.”

“Oh, we all have a choice.” She looked him square in the eyes now. “Even me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that despite what I’m getting out of this, which is a great deal more than you probably understand, I’m not at all sure I’m willing to pay you back in the way you’d like me to.”

“Now, wait just a damn minute. I think the pixies have been wreaking havoc with your mind or you’ve baked in the sun here a bit too long. If you think that kiss last night meant I was looking for some kind of—” He broke off when her mouth dropped open,
then closed again, but only so she could burst out laughing. Ringer began barking and running in circles, as if he too found this whole thing hilarious.

Archer propped his hands on his hips. “You obviously have a low opinion of me, and normally I don’t care what anyone thinks, but I just want to make one thing clear.”

She could hardly stop laughing long enough to listen to him. “And just what is that?”

He hopped up on the rock and took hold of her shoulders before he’d even thought the action through. She didn’t struggle, but her laughter stopped now. He saw her throat work as she stared up into his eyes and it made his body even jumpier. “I’m not the sort that uses sex as some form of payment for services rendered.” He wasn’t shouting, but there was still temper in his tone, and in his eyes if her expression was any indication.

Not because she cowered or anything. Oh, no, not Talia. Whenever he got in a temper, she usually responded by following suit. This time was no exception. She didn’t yank free of his hold, but her body tightened beneath his grip. “No, I don’t suppose I should have to pay. The queen is doing that and quite well, I hear.”

Her frosty tone should have roiled him further. And it did, but not in anger. Oh, the storm that brewed in those eyes of hers. He wondered if she was aware of the tempest he saw in them and how potent its promise was. He realized then she could wear sackcloth and smear ashes on her face. Appearances had nothing to do with what captivated him.

“I don’t expect anything from you except that you follow the rules that allow me to keep you safe,” he said heatedly. “That includes not running off on a wild-goose chase.”

Her eyebrows lifted and the tempest stirred further.
“I did not run off. I very deliberately left. And the animal I was trying to help was yours, not that I’d expect any gratitude.”

Archer fought a grin. How did she do that? She had him hot under the collar one moment, and hot under the belt the next. “And you were just apologizing to me about the care and maintenance of my pet.”

“Well, I take it back. He’s probably fine
despite
you. And I no longer wonder why he spends his time out here in the wild. I was driven to do the very same after only two days of your hovering.”

“Hovering?” He moved closer. “Hovering, is it?” He noticed her pupils shoot wide, the center of the storm taking control. Control of him. He lowered his mouth. “If there is any hovering to happen, it’s here. My mouth above yours,” he murmured. “What do you say to that?”

He felt the fine tremor of awareness shiver through her. “I say go ahead. But it won’t change anything.”

Now he pulled his head back. “Change anything?”

“When I said I wasn’t prepared to make the payment you demanded, I didn’t mean this.” She actually threw back her shoulders as if about to enter the fray. “I meant that I’m not so sure I will go back with you. To your time. That is the payment I was referring to. Not … not this.”

“Oh.” He should feel like a cloddering fool, but she was in his arms and that drove all other thoughts from his mind. “And what of … this?”

“I … it won’t change things, either.”

His eyes widened. “You still think I mean to seduce you into going?”

She looked at him. “It hasn’t crossed your mind?”

He couldn’t help grinning. She just begged him to tweak that defiance of hers. “Would it work?”

“Whatever decision I end up making, I’ll make alone.”

“What if I told you that my wanting to kiss you has nothing whatever to do with my mission for the queen? And everything to do with finding out if your lips taste as good this time as they did the first time.”

She blew out a very shaky breath. “I’d say you’re really good at this seduction stuff and maybe I’d better step back and call it a day. I don’t think I’m tough enough to play these games with you and come out unscathed.”

“I think you’re made of far tougher stuff than you credit yourself with.”

“And I think you’d say just about anything right now to keep me from running.”

“Is that right? So sure of your allure, are you?”

Surprisingly, that goaded a smile from her, a rather bold one. She pressed lightly against him, but it was enough. “Unless that’s a fold-up walking stick in your pocket … yes.”

He almost swallowed his own tongue in shock. “Well, then.” And that was the best he could do.

She smiled and extricated herself from his grasp. “Maybe we should just keep things between us all business. Putting sexual involvement into the mix, even as light as this is, complicates everything.”

Light? She thought his involvement a light thing? He couldn’t think about the implications of why that shouldn’t sting his pride because she’d started to turn away, and he knew he couldn’t let her. “And you have so much experience with the mixing of business and pleasure, do you?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Enough to know I’m out of my league here. And not afraid to admit it. Just so you know, that was not a red flag meant to
encourage the bull. I’m serious. Let’s just let this one go.”

“This,” he repeated. “You mean this?” Without touching her he stepped up to her and lowered his mouth over hers. He expected a stinging slap, or a jerking away … was maybe even hoping for them. Then he could take the rejection, lick his wounds, and respect her wishes. But he got neither. Instead he got what, just perhaps, he’d really been wanting to find.

Her mouth softened under his, and he heard a moan. That it was his own only threw him off stride for a moment. She shifted, or maybe he did, but in the next instant they were tangled with one another, limbs and lips both. It was Ringer’s incessant barking and running in circles around them that pulled him to the surface.

“Why did you do that?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

“I wanted to make sure this was just a light little thing that was easily dismissed. As you said it was. No worries, right?”

“Oh. Well. Right.” She pulled away and jumped off the rock, then snatched her walking stick from a nearby tree and hit the path at a not-so-steady stride. Ringer, the traitor, jogged along at her side.

“Talia.”

He wasn’t sure she’d stop. But she did.

“Just so you know, you’re not so far out of the league as you think.”

Rather than smug triumph, there was a contemplative look on her face when she turned. “Isn’t that double the reason to end this now, then? We both have jobs to do. Better for us both to do them with all our senses intact, don’t you think?”

She left, not waiting for a response.

He jumped down from the rock and kept a steady pace just far enough back to give her the precious space she desired, but enabling him to keep a protective vigil.

The taste of her raged inside him. As did the warning bells. Warning bells telling him that she spoke the clear, certain truth.

“But I think we’re going to have a hard time steering clear of this, Talia Trahaern. That’s what I think.”

I
still say this is a bad idea.”

Talia loaded the puppies into their crate, then tucked them into the back of the truck. “Tell that to these little guys.” She reached in and rubbed the noses of the four squirming pups. “I hope to find homes for them today.” She smiled and reached in to scratch the two older dogs in the crates behind the puppies. “And yes, you guys, too. Just stay clean and you’ll win a few hearts before the day is out.” She shifted a few things around, making sure all was secure, and ignored Archer. Or tried to.

True to his word, since their interlude by the pond two days ago, he’d given her more space and she in turn had delved more deeply into her studies with Baleweg. Not that it had done much good. Baleweg knew about her connection with Archer and had implored her to try again, but Talia had put him off. She still wasn’t seeing any signs of healing powers, and delving into Archer’s emotions didn’t seem a wise or particularly productive course of action. She had hoped her classes would at least provide a distraction from Archer, but that had not been the case. Every time Baleweg mentioned Archer’s name, which was annoyingly often, she’d remember how his hands felt when he pulled her into his arms, how his mouth had felt when he’d kissed her.

Her time with Baleweg had produced one profound change, however. Her empathic skills had definitely grown sharper, which Baleweg found encouraging. She wasn’t so sure. She’d initially realized it when she found Ringer. She’d been terrified when she’d felt that first wave of pain. The dog hadn’t really howled as she’d told Archer, not out loud anyway. But the pain she’d felt had been so strong, she’d wanted to resist it, call the vet, let him find the poor unfortunate creature and deal with it. But she hadn’t been able to do that. Steeling herself against the pinpricks of pain stabbing at her, seemingly all over, she’d gone in search of whatever lay out there.

Then she’d found the little mutt and discovered it had only been some brambles stuck in his fur, scratching his skin. As relieved as she’d been for Ringer, she felt quite the opposite about her enhanced abilities. If she’d picked up so acutely on what amounted to fairly minor discomfort, she shuddered to think how sensitized she’d become now to real distress.

There was no doubt that Baleweg had taught her much about using the power of her mind, but what if she couldn’t learn to control it? Hell, she had never really managed to control it up to now.

Archer moved in beside her as she shifted the last few crates. She steeled herself against possible contact, thankful he hadn’t touched her since that day by the pond. She didn’t want to think what connecting with him again might feel like. And yet, she’d thought about it anyway. Often.

“If you’re dead set on this,” he said tersely, “then send Stella.”

“I can’t,” she said, busying herself checking crates that didn’t need any further checking.

“Talia?” Stella called out to her from the kennels.

Saved!
“Be right there!” She barely glanced at Archer as she darted past him. He moved in and for a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to touch her. That was the last thing she needed at the moment. He was far easier to deal with—if there was such a thing—when he was irritated. Which hadn’t been a difficult task of late.

She moved quickly through the gate and closed it between them. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She ducked into the kennel, praying he wouldn’t follow, and found Stella by the smallest run. “What do you need?”

“It’s the little chihuahua-pom mix we just got in. Something’s not right with him.”

Talia stilled; she really couldn’t handle this. Not now. At the same time she wondered why she hadn’t felt the little guy’s distress already. What was happening to her? Her connections were stronger and yet didn’t seem to be as controlled or focused any longer. Had she been so focused on not letting Archer invade her mind and senses that she’d blocked out real suffering?

Maybe dabbling with Baleweg hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. Maybe she’d really screwed herself up. She tried to clear her mind, reach out, but she still felt nothing. First her overreaction to Ringer, now this. She was overcome by the sudden feeling that everything was spiraling out of her control. She should have sent them away at the first. As if she’d had a choice! It had been hard enough dealing with her ability before. If she was losing what little control she had mastered over it … she didn’t know if she could handle that. Or how to go back to the way things were before. She had a sick feeling that it wasn’t possible.

“Talia? Is something wrong?”

Talia jerked her gaze to Stella. “Uh, no. No.” She
took a deep breath. God, she badly wanted to just get the hell out of here and disappear on her own for a while. She just wanted some time to think, to figure out what in the hell was happening to her. But the trucks were loaded, people were waiting. Stella was waiting. The dog was waiting.

She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the nausea climbing from her stomach into her throat. “Let’s see what the problem is,” she told Stella, trying to cover the tremor in her voice with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. But when she looked inside the small run, a shiver of dread crawled through her. The puppy was curled up, its front left leg at an awkward angle, not moving.

This was the reason she’d left vet school. She waited for the overwhelming feeling to hit her, the waves of pain, the mental anguish the dog was suffering, wondering how she’d handle it now that everything seemed to be falling apart. Guilt overwhelmed her again, that sense of personal failure for not finding a way to handle this, to help the animals who always seemed to find her. Maybe she
was
supposed to be able to heal them all.

Stella clutched her arm. “Is he—”

Talia jerked at her touch. She’d opened a Pandora’s box inside of herself, or maybe Archer and Baleweg had. It didn’t matter. There was no going back now.

God help her.

Her sudden movement startled the dog, who thrashed around, his leg still stuck awkwardly near his face. Talia immediately spotted the problem. Light-headed with relief, she reached in and picked him up. Maybe her abilities hadn’t spun that far out of control, after all. She laughed almost giddily. She hadn’t felt the dog’s pain because he hadn’t been in any.

“He’s okay?” Stella asked anxiously, leaning over her shoulder.

“He got his nail caught in his fur,” she said, her voice still trembling. The dog squirmed and squeaked, covering the clumsiness of her wobbly fingers as she unwound the knotted fur from the tiny claw. “He has a little sliver peeling back here,” she said to Stella, pointing to the claw. “Get me the trimmers.”