Heart of Fire (8 page)

“How dare you speak to me that way
after what I did for you?” Her cheeks burned with indignation. “You
flatter yourself with such big thoughts, halfling.”

To his credit, he didn’t respond to
her name calling. “Why are you packing then?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,
but according to my mother’s letter I am to apprentice with King
Maelthorn’s magewoman so that I may take her place.”

Surprise washed the expression from
his face. The satisfaction she felt at shutting him up was short
lived.

“Magewoman to King Maelthorn? Are
you deluded? You have to actually have magic to be a magewoman. You
do know that?” He shook his head. “Humans.”

“You know nothing about me. Don’t
assume otherwise.” Her hands were tingling. She bit back the
remainder of what she wanted to say in an attempt to quell the heat
snarling in her veins and ground out an angry, “Good night,” before
stalking off to her room.

“Shaldar City will eat you alive,”
he called out.

She slammed the door.

Firstlight broke in streaks of pink
and gold. Sleep had only come to Jessalyne for a few hours as
packing had kept her up. She went into the kitchen, eager for a cup
of tea and a bite of breakfast before she packed some foodstuffs
and herbs for travel.

Her scullery lay in shambles. Crumbs
and crusts of bread mingled with sticky smears of jam dotted the
table. A single half-eaten sweet cake remained as the only proof of
the dozen once piled on an earthenware platter in the
larder.

She opened the hatch to the cold
box. The milk jug sat empty and most of the smoked fish was gone
too.

“Dash it!” Jessalyne knew exactly
which ill-mannered elf to blame.

She stormed toward the second
bedroom and shoved the door wide, ready to blast him for his
ungracious behavior. As soon as the door burst open, she knew she
should have knocked. The dark elf wore only the skin in which he’d
been born.

Sweet mercy. Her jaw unhinged. His
hind parts were to the door. A line of silver runes like those on
his ears trailed from beneath his long black locks down the length
of his spine, stopping above the cleft of his buttocks. Her fingers
itched to trace the marks marring his perfect flesh. A sigh slipped
from her lips.

He turned. Her eyes, frozen to the
spot where his backside had been, now saw a great deal more of him
than she had seen of any man. Ever.

A roguish grin bent the corners of
his mouth and he scratched, unashamed. “Something I can do for
you?”

Her mouth hung slack, but she
couldn’t close it. Supple curving muscle and the dark, radiant
smoothness of his skin stole the breath from her body. Like the
silver runes tattooed on his skin, his image inked itself into her
mind.

Her hand flew to her eyes. “Ohmy – I
did not mean – please, my apologies!” She slammed the
door.

She leaned against the wall and shut
her eyes, but all she saw was skin. She had never seen a naked man
before, elf or otherwise. Were they all so... Was he always that...
Her shame at intruding was compounded by her burning desire to see
him again. Something between panic and need sluiced through her.
She tipped her head back against the wall and sucked air into her
lungs. Laughter echoed through the door.

Wretched halfling. Blast him! He
wrecked her kitchen, depleted her food supply and now this. Of
course, she was the one who’d burst into the room unannounced. But
she refused to claim fault. He shouldn’t have been naked in her
house. She stomped off to repair her kitchen, muttering under her
breath about the bothersome creature occupying her spare room,
still unable to wash his image from her head.

* * *

It pleased him that Jessalyne had
caught him while morning’s rigor still engaged his body. He only
hoped he hadn’t frightened her. He tried again to read her, feeling
with his mind for the wards that held his senses captive. The magic
was weaker than before and he quickly found a way through
it.

She rushed into his head like new
wine, her quickened breaths, the thrum of blood in her veins, her
pounding heart. He realized with a start there was no fear in her.
She was a mix of curiosity, longing, embarrassment, and
indignation.

No lust, no prideful desire. None of
that existed in her, just a sense of need he wondered if she
understood. She was a true innocent, not some wagtail in one of the
taverns he frequented. Neither did she look at him as a conquest to
be bragged about over her cups. She’d probably never even been in a
tavern.

As flattered as he was with her
reaction, guilt racked him. Life in the Legions had brought few
true innocents his way. He resolved to treat her more gently and
provoke her less.

But the rogue in him found it nigh
impossible to look at her and not imagine her beneath him, her
moonlight skin glistening with sweat, her heat drawing him deeper,
her honeyed scent rising around him, her voice ragged with need as
she whispered his name. He shook his head free of the image too
late to keep his body from responding. No wonder she thought him a
beast.

His thoughts turned to the remainder
of her father’s money. He would keep one bag of silver for payment
and give the rest to her. If she were truly going to Shaldar City
to find the king’s magewoman, she’d need it. Weighing a bag of gold
in his hand, he growled. Freedom would have to wait.

* * *

Jessalyne attacked the mess in her
scullery, trying to scrub his image out of her head at the same
time. What it would feel like to be in his arms? Or any man’s arms
for that matter? Maybe he would kiss her. Heat swept through her
hidden parts. She cleaned with renewed vigor. She could never let
him get that close. Tyber said dark elves were known for their
temper. Burning Ertemis would be a quick way to see if Tyber were
right.

In short order, she restored the
room and checked her remaining supplies for something to turn into
breakfast. She settled on oatcakes and blackberries fresh from the
thicket outside her kitchen door. Batter sizzled as she poured
thick puddles onto the oiled stone griddle. She cleaned the berries
while the cakes cooked. It didn’t take long for Ertemis to appear
in the kitchen.

He was dressed, but her mind knew
too well what hid beneath. “You cannot possibly be hungry after
eating the larder bare last night.” She busied herself with
flipping oatcakes.

“Aye, but I am.” He stayed near the
door, giving her space. “May I have some after I feed and water
Dragon and Petal?”

That he asked almost felled her. He
was being oddly civil. She glanced at him. “Yes. Thank you. I am
not used to having a beast to look after.”

He exhaled softly. “It has been ages
since anyone felt I needed looking after.”

Jessalyne scooped the last oatcake
off the griddle. “I didn’t mean you were a beast.” She turned when
he didn’t reply. He was gone. For a man of such size, he moved with
unnatural silence.

Not long after breakfast, Lord Tyber
showed up with Ertemis’s weapons. As Jessalyne had asked, Lady
Dauphine accompanied him as well. Corah tagged behind.

“Good morning.” Jessalyne ushered
them in. Tyber nodded at Ertemis leaning against the wall near the
kitchen. Ertemis nodded in reply. Both men eyeing the other
warily.

She took a deep breath before she
began. “As you know, I was very curious about how Petal came to
lead Ertemis here. As it turns out, my father hired Ertemis to
protect him while he traveled. The fever that incapacitated Ertemis
was my father’s undoing. Before he died, he charged Ertemis with
delivering a key to me. That key unlocked a box holding a letter
from my lady mother. In the letter, she revealed I am to apprentice
with Lord King Maelthorn’s magewoman, Sryka. And I plan on leaving
today.”

Corah looked stricken. Lady Dauphine
covered her mouth with her hand and shimmered as if she might shift
right then and there. “But we need you. What if Orit falls
again?”

“I’ll leave my mother’s books behind
for Corah, and I am certain Orit will be more careful from now
on.”

Lord Tyber, ever practical, spoke
next. “If your mind is made up, I’ll send two of my guards with
you.”

Jessalyne sighed. She did not want
to travel escorted like a child. This was her chance to discover
life on her own. “Lord Tyber, I appreciate your offer but it’s
unnecessary. I’m a grown woman. I can find my way.”

“You may be a grown woman, but you
know little of the world. A woman traveling alone, especially one
such as you, is easy prey. All the realm is not Fairleigh Grove.
They will ride with you as far as Shaldar City’s gates.”

Tyber might be right, but she still
didn’t want cervidae guards accompanying her. If Mistress Sryka
turned her away or had already chosen another apprentice, she
wanted to return with her dignity intact. She caught Ertemis’s gaze
and held it while she spoke. “Lord Tyber, I didn’t want to tell you
because I knew you wouldn’t approve but I have already contracted
the elf to be my shield.”

Ertemis raised a single eyebrow but
said nothing.

She kept talking, “He agrees it is
the bare minimum he can do to repay my healing him. Besides, I
insisted on paying him. The deal has been struck.”

Jessalyne looked back at Tyber. “I
feel it’s best. No need for your men to make a return
trip.”

Lord Tyber shook his head. “I’ll
honor your decision.” He looked hard at Ertemis. “I would speak
with you outside while the women say their farewells.”

Ertemis followed Tyber through the
door and faced the Alpha Buck on the flagstone path. He was not
surprised to see a quadroon of Tyber’s men waiting outside. Tyber
shut the door. His men tightened their stance by a hair.

Crossing his arms, Ertemis leaned
against the bell post. “Is this where you tell me you’ll hunt me
down and kill me if I touch her?”

Tyber snorted and shook his head.
“Touch her and she may kill you herself.”

Ertemis narrowed his eyes at the
man’s words, unsure how Jessalyne would manage that.

Tyber notched his head up. “I wasn’t
at a border dispute yesterday. I was confirming my suspicions about
the dark elf with the Legion-issued sword. The Legionnaire I spoke
with recognized your sword, but I only told him I purchased it from
a band of Travelers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about.” He kept his body still, his muscles loose and ready. The
Legion hadn’t wasted much time.

Tyber ignored him and continued. “If
you harm her, I will take great pleasure in collecting the price on
your head, halfling. And for your knowledge, the Legion doesn’t
require you alive. Do I make myself clear?”

Ertemis uncrossed his arms and met
Tyber’s cold gaze with his own. “Aye.”

* * *

Back inside, Jessalyne said her
farewells. Corah promised to look after the cottage and tend the
garden. Dauphine thanked her again for healing Orit. Tyber gave
Ertemis his weapons. Jessalyne saw something flicker in the eyes of
both men as Ertemis buckled his sword belt.

Once the cervidae were gone, she
steeled herself for his protest about her quickly hatched scheme.
It didn’t take long.

“As tempting as you might think it
sounds, I have no intention of traipsing through the countryside
with you on some foolish quest. I have better things to do.”
Ertemis slipped his Feyre into his boot.

“I said I would pay you and I meant
it.”

“I’ve got all the herbs I
need.”

She ran to her bedroom and grabbed
one of the sacks of coins left by her father over the years. She
plopped the heavy pouch into Ertemis’s palm.

He opened it. Gold. He looked at it
again. “Where did you get this?”

“My father. He soothed his
conscience by giving me money.”

“How much of this do you
have?”

“More than I need.”

Shaking his head, Ertemis dug in his
bag. “Your father wanted you to have these as well.”

Jessalyne took the bags, but shot
Ertemis an odd look. “Did you forget you had them?”

“It slipped my mind.”

Not blasted likely. She stared at
him for a moment. “Then you accept what I’ve proposed?”

“Aye, for this much coin I would
carry you there.” Ertemis gave her a half-hearted smile.

“That will not be required.” This
was going to be a long journey with such company. “Will you fetch
Dragon and Petal and bring them to the house? I’ll bring my bundles
outside to meet you.”

“Bundles? Perhaps I should educate
you on packing for travel. Let me see these bundles.”

Despite her misgivings, Jessalyne
led him into her bedroom, dumping the coin pouches onto the bed
next to a mound of parcels—rolled and folded, tied and ready to
go.

“Hah!” Ertemis surveyed the pile
with his hands on his hips. “Surely, you jest. Not half of this
will be coming.”

“What? Why?” Jessalyne watched
Ertemis rifle through her things, appalled with his lack of regard
for what she considered necessary. After she stopped him from
discarding an item for the third time, he growled at
her.