Dark Passions: Dark Romance Boxed Set, page 74
“I’m about ready to crack too,” she admitted, pulling up her legs. “Would love to find another camp, even. Get some new clothes.”
He hesitated, as if she touched on something delicate. With his arm around her, he finally squeezed her against him. Whereas his mind had just previously been dwelling on the petty pleasure of stripping naked with her, something they had never had the luxury of in their current circumstances, now it turned to something else.
In a low voice he spoke quietly, “The men are breakin’. Bad.”
She winced at the mention of the other men, looking away from what passed as her partner, “Yea, well. We all are, aren’t we?” she intoned bitterly. She had no sympathy or compassion for the two other men, and her voice betrayed it with a slight crack.
With one knee up, the other to the side, he squeezed at her slender waist, keeping her in against him. They had coupled now for several weeks, and though it had eased things for them both in their own ways, nothing was easy. Kissing behind her ear, he seemed about to say something more. The fact he was talking about problems with the group at all was jarringly off. He never discussed his command decisions with anyone, even her.
The moment felt like it stretched out awkwardly, her head bowing to stare at the ground, hand reaching to his knee and giving it a squeeze, “You think we’re gonna try to get outta here again?”
He took a while to think about her question. He had never explicitly told her they would seek that, though it was always one of the options they sought. At this point any opportunity that presented itself would be taken, and he said as much to her then as they cuddled together.
Evening was arriving when Odir returned, running and out of breath, flushed in the face as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees. “Boss!” he panted out, “y’gotta come see! It’s... it’s...”
Ara’bor pushed himself up. “Slow down. What is it?” He asked firmly.
The younger man took a few deep breaths before he sputtered out, “There’s a group settin’ up camp down the hill,” he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.
At that, the tall leader’s eyes widened, “How many? What sort?”
Elin’s gaze darted between the two, excitement and fear rushing through her.
Ara’bor shared her mood and moved from her over to the man as Odir shook his head, “I dunno. Had to go... tell you.” He swallowed, “Two at least.”
Ara’bor’s gaze travelled over to the exit of their little crevice. “I’ll check it out,” he announced firmly. Snapping himself back he commanded, “Odir, get yourself together and come show me where you saw them. Elin,” he said, looking to her with determination in his eyes, “Get a fire goin’, prepare a meal for the party and await Glis’n’s return. When we get back, we eat then...” he let that hang in the air, not needing to say more.
She nodded, feeling her heart pounding desperately in her chest as she moved to start up the fire. Something to do, no matter how routine, was a chance to take her mind off the rush of emotions. Depending on who was setting up, they might have to flee further into the mountains, leave their new little love nest.
She looked up at Ara’bor through her slanted eyes and bid him to be safe, her look earnest.
Ara’bor took up his helm, slipped it into place all as he held her gaze, fire behind it. It was as good a lover’s farewell as was likely to ever come from him. Slinging his crossbow into place, he took hold of his scimitar and grabbed Odir by the shoulder. “C’mon.”
The two men headed off, and even though Odir looked terribly exhausted, he was no less eager. Something to break the months of boredom was welcomed by all.
Alone at the camp, she began her preparations for the fire, and there was not a sound to be heard for many long moments.
Even as the elf Glis’n returned, his nimble form able to approach without a noise as he watched from a distance.
Chapter 7
Elin spent a long while coaxing the flame to life, her thoughts distracted and her long fingers fumbling to create the familiar motions. She begged herself to stay focused and, eventually, a fire sprung up between the branches. Waiting for it to grow, tending to it in a cautious way, she looked around fairly frequently for any sign of the other men, or potential threats.
She knew enough offensive spells to keep any intruders at bay and so she tried to remain poised for attack. Perhaps the people who were setting up were scouting out the area as well. She wondered if they were rangers, the only bit of law enforcement in the region. Or, perhaps worse, if they were bandits as well.
Glis’n, by some sinister forethought, came not from the one practical entrance, but above. Creeping over the edge of the rocks, he managed to avoid making a sound until his feet hit the ground two paces away from her. His running motion closed the gap almost instantly, and a dagger was at the ready.
Her head darted to the sudden noise, but she only caught a glimpse of chest before he was upon her. Her hands immediately worked to weave a ward, preparing to protect her from whatever interloper had found their little home, but he grabbed her mouth, pricking her neck with the pointed tip of his blade, silencing the spell on her lips.
Grinning fiercely, only malice was written on the elf’s face as he watched her still. “Good,” he croaked. “I saw the others leave,” he hissed into her ear, “so you and me... time to have it out.”
When she heard his voice, recognized that the threat was different than she’d originally anticipated, her fright ran cold through her. It wasn’t the energized, fighting spirit that had first gripped her but cold recognition of the facts.
Defending herself would hurt the entire group’s chances of survival. Especially if she was risking being caught by the rangers.
His hand was in a leather glove, tightly clamped over her mouth as he began to drag her struggling body towards the tent at the back of the crevice.
With such thick hate he hissed his words at her, “Try and cast your little spells, she-devil, and I’ll have this dagger through your throat before you can strike a spark.” The threat was genuine, and with his weapon perched as it was, it would take no effort to plunge its sharpened tip into her. He clearly didn’t have the same concerns as she did about hurting the group’s chances of success.
Gradually he began to loosen his hand from her mouth. “Don’t make a sound,” he warned.
Her breathing was only the barest of inhales through her nose, and her eyes were wide with terror, but there was no sign of a fight in her. Tears stung her eyes but she forced them not to fall, to betray her weakness to the hateful elf.
Always the most talkative of their group, he kept it up even as he began to undo her belt, then his own. “Chief’s been keepin’ the pussy all to himself,” he remarked bitterly. “But... I’m gonna wet my dick at last, devil-whore, you hear?”
“They found people,” she muttered, her attempt to distract him from the vile act he was so committed to. “Maybe rangers, maybe something else.”
His dagger hand shifted, shoving her shoulder so that she fell to her knees, while keeping the blade dangerously close. “Then we better be quick,” he rasped, hauling down her breeches and panties to her ankles, heedless of her own comfort. He was desperate and his actions were quickly becoming less focused and careful as he exposed his own throbbing erection to the cold.
Her lower lip trembled. “No knife?” she pleaded softly, knowing all too well how easily some men got caught up in their pleasures. She was meek, yielding to him and his sadism, “I won’t... do... anything!” she promised.
She felt the brush of his manhood against her sex, missing its mark at first, before he took hold of it to steady its aim. He was not as large as either of the other men, but the way he spoke, the hate he always had for her, betrayed that he’d make it worse on her then either ever did. “Sh—” his voice was cut off as he heard something, head twitching to the side.
He heard something with his elven ears that was beyond her sense of hearing. “Fuck,” he cursed, and instead of pressing himself into her, he began to redo his pants, the dagger still near her throat threateningly.
Her eyes widened in confusion as he pulled away from her, uncertain of what had caused the shift and wondering why he’d so quickly lost his interest.
Angrily he hissed at her, “You still owe me a fuck, bitch,” he muttered bitterly. He rose up away from her, and with one last look, he then disappeared out through the flap, the sound of boots on stone fast becoming audible to her, and voices rising of the three men outside.
“It’s a band of travellers,” declared Ara’bor.
Elin pulled her pants up, refastening the belt as she took in big, terrified breaths. She checked her neck for blood, ridding herself of all marks of what had just happened and trying to regain her calm before she finally rejoined the others outside.
The towering Ara’bor looked triumphant already without even a battle, and as he looked to her an actual smile formed on his face. “A travel party ‘as wandered into our area,” he declared. “They got horses, supplies, an’ even a Gods-damned wagon.” The news was fortuitous, and Odir was smiling even wider than Ara’bor, through his exhaustion. Even the elven Glis’n perked up.
It wasn’t the exuberant response that otherwise would have come from the part demon, but she tried to match their joviality. “How many?”
“Just three,” Ara’bor stated, stepping in and placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing before putting his arm around her. “A woman, perhaps a merchant, her driver, and a guard. Easy pickin’s.” He grinned widely around at the men, then to her. “Finally a bit a’ luck,” he declared more softly, as if only to her.
She gave him a hopeful glance, swallowing all the recent fear and violence from her mind, a true smile slowly upturning her lips. “When will we take them?”
His gaze turned to the fire, noticing the lack of preparation on the meal itself. He didn’t remark on that, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “After nightfall. First we eat and make preparations.” He looked around at everyone, “We take it carefully. We’re outta practice.” The two men nodded in unison, affirming their boss’s directive, Odir finally sitting and relaxing.
Quickly Elin set out to start her preparations on the meal, grateful for the excuse to turn her back on the men, her emotions a vortex struggling within her. There was something dark at the centre of it, something she didn’t want to admit to, but as she stirred the stew, it wouldn’t leave her mind.
There was another woman. Perhaps it was sadistic of her to even hope for a moment that it could be her savior, a distraction to the two hateful bandits, but she couldn’t help the thoughts that tumbled through her brain.
Ara’bor kept near her, though he was pacing. Excitement was the cause, and he was more talkative than he had been in months. Giving out reminders on their tactics, it was moments like these that gave rise to the speculation he was a military officer in years past.
“And Elin will stay behind me as usual. I’ll keep her clear ta cast her spells. We want ta make this quick and clean.” He looked around, “Remember, take out the two men. Leave the woman. If she’s a merchant, she’s likely worth a ransom.”
The two men had no objections to that, and neither did Elin, but it left a heavy feeling in her stomach.
She wondered, briefly, if Ara’bor had the same ideas as she did, and wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask her before their interruption. That he’d ask her to help quell the two bandit’s desires. Even though he’d done nothing but protect her since that first night, her suspicion of other’s intentions never disappeared completely.
Still, she brushed the thought aside and finished the meal preparations, letting Ara’bor serve them, as was his right as leader. She sat on her haunches, her eyes partial slits as she mentally went over her repertoire of spells and what might be most useful.
They all ate generously that night, Ara’bor breaking out a bit extra, a few lightly sweetened pieces of hard tack. It was a veritable delicacy for the bandits, though to any normal person a fully distasteful chore to eat.
The stew devoured, Ara’bor loudly crunched into his portion of the treat, arm around her shoulders affectionately. “They look ta be ready for a long journey. So with any luck, they ‘ave enough goods ta do us a long time, crew.”
The prospect was growing on her quickly, and soon the event with Glis’n was thrust from her mind, allowing herself a reprieve to fantasize about what may yet come.
She felt that rush of excitement and pressed into Ara’bor, eating her fill silently.
Chapter 8
By the time they all finished eating, darkness had crept across the sky, leaving only a faint hint of purplish light hovering on the horizon. Ara’bor saw about to everything, giving final reminders, telling all of the layout and where best everyone would be suited.
There was no rush, as they had plenty of time to get to the camp down the mountain. While the other two were busy, he managed to spare a moment for her near the tent, speaking lowly for her ears only, hands resting on her shoulders at the sides of her neck.
“It’s the break we’ve been waitin’ for. Could mean everythin’ ta us. At the very least a break from all this... shit.” Ara’bor bent himself to her level, kissing her lips.
It was the first time he had ever done such a thing while in the presence of the others, and she met him passionately. A fire was lit beneath her as her tongue lashed against his. Her eyes closed and her hand pressed to his chest, her fingers digging into his clothing before the kiss parted, her breathing a bit huskier.
The fear of Glis’n from earlier that day had made her long for Ara’bor, for his powerful body and his protection. For the way his hands and body made her feel, for the deep down desires he’d brought to the surface.
Her returned lust surprised him, though the shock was quickly washed away by the wider smile on his face. Squeezing his arms about her he murmured deeply, “Stay back. Keep yer eyes open, remain focused on the job. Don’t let nothin’ surprise ya. I’ll be there near ya, but anythin’ can happen in a second.” It was, on some level, similar to the same warnings he’d given her a hundred times before, but this time it was more personal in the manner in which he held her, and spoke.
“You be careful,” she took a deep breath, inhaling his masculine musk. She was still shaken from earlier, but the good news had buoyed her spirits, and she felt hope threatening her heart. “We’ll do this.”
He grinned wryly at her remark, as if amused that she thought their success ever in doubt.
From that point forward, everything went so quickly. The four of them were back to being a unit, not just a loose-knit bunch of outcasts that were quickly fraying. Prowling down the mountain side, they moved across the rocks with careful purpose. The camp below came into sight quickly; the travelling group had taken precautions to shield view of their fire from below, but failed to keep out of sight of them further up the slope.
Taking positions around, they all knew their tasks. The travelling woman sat at the fire at the center, a man tending one of the two horses, brushing its mane. It took longer to pinpoint the guard, armoured and patrolling away from the fire. Odir was the front man, with great sword in hand, creeping as near as he dared while Ara’bor lined his crossbow and Glis’n his longbow up for their shots.
Elin hung behind Ara’bor, her fingers working within her gloves and then holding a prepared freezing spell, moving stealthily towards the woman. It was lucky that her demon blood allowed her footsteps to be soft, her body melting into the backdrop of the mountain as she waited for the signs of battle to begin.
The fight began silently, the rip of one arrow, then another passing through the air signalling the start. Glis’n had first shot as the group marksman, and with it came down the man at the horse. Pierced through the heart he fell over without so much as a groan. Ara’bor’s bolt shot out, and though he was a fair shot, the guard, being in the dark and armoured, did not suffer a similar fate. The crossbow bolt was deflected by armour plating, causing it to slice open a gash in his chest, but otherwise left him still standing and crying out in pain.
Elin unleashed the spell at the woman, which hit her straight on. The woman’s stiffened body tilted awkwardly, falling away from the fire, frozen solid for a few seconds. There wasn’t much time before it broke and Elin set off towards her, loosening her belt as she went.
Odir charged in as soon as the shots had hit. With sword raised he took on the guard. The man, despite his wound, managed to get his own sword up in time to deflect the attack and divert the younger man’s charge. Though either the wound, or concern for his client, kept him from capitalizing on it and cutting down the stumbling Odir.
Heading towards the frozen woman, the guard moved to cut off Elin from her target, sword at the ready to swing at the demon-blooded woman. She ducked with a gasp, barely stumbling as she made it to the merchant. With a loud bellow, Ara’bor was there, keeping pace with scimitar at the ready.
A clang of metal filled the air as the two armoured foes met, and though the able guard was quick enough to counter the bandit leaders thrust, Ara’bor was not so easily deflected as Odir. Engaging in a fight, Ara’bor clamped a strong hand on the guard’s shoulder, scimitar keeping his sword in turn pushed back and away. The dark haired leader, however, had the strength advantage, and though the guard grappled in return, it wasn’t long before he had the man pinned against the side of the wagon.
Elin grabbed the other woman’s legs, easily wrapping the belt around them. She had always been most proud of her freezing spell, of being able to incapacitate someone without doing any harm, but it didn’t leave her with the same feeling this time.
Elin had robbed people, kidnapped them before, even, but now she grappled with dark fears and darker hopes about what this woman would mean to their travelling gang. What she would mean to her.
