Poison Tree (15 page)

She must have sensed his mental nearness, because she said, “If you’re awake enough to help me out, give me a sign.”

He tried, but he couldn’t focus.

Again he woke, and finally he was able to get a sense of his body. He was hurt, badly, but Lynzi had probably saved his life. He managed to ask mentally,
Where’s Pandora?

She came
, Lynzi replied, the same way.
She said this was your “own stupid fault” and that as long as you already have a SingleEarth nursemaid, she doesn’t need to waste her time
.

That sounded like her.

It also finally gave Christian the motivation he needed to focus his power, so the next time his body demanded rest, his mind went into a trance instead of to sleep. Externally, the state looked much the same, but internally, he was able to start stitching himself back together. Ruptured blood vessels closed and strengthened. Fractured bones and crushed organs regained their proper shapes and places.

All the while, Lynzi continued to slowly drip power into him so he could heal the damage, which was worse than his body had ever before sustained. He was vaguely aware when the flavor of the power changed, which meant Lynzi had probably had one of her SingleEarth underlings come in to feed her.

The power sustaining him spiked, like a shock of static electricity.
Those “underlings” are responsible for saving your life
, Lynzi remarked, reading his thoughts.
You might want to consider that
.

Right. Have they found Alysia?

Not yet
, Lynzi answered.
Once you’re recovered enough to actually talk, I expect you to explain everything
.

Sure
.

She had to know he was lying, but she let it slide.

An intrusion of fear and anger pushed him out of his trance. Pure wrath had just walked through the door.

His eyes flickered open, but it took several seconds for them to focus. And then …

He knew that mouth, those eyes, those cheekbones. The way she would pout and expect the world on a platter, and—
Damn her
. Did she have any idea—

Pandora would not approve, but he didn’t care. He let the fury well through him as he reached for the tiger, a hand locking around her throat and power digging into her guts so he could drag the energy from her.

Her body spasmed, but he knew that her throat would be too tight for her to scream.

He could ignore Lynzi’s shout, but he couldn’t ignore Sahara’s reaction, which was to change shape from a beautiful woman to a form of fur and muscle—a form that included sharp teeth and claws that ripped into Christian’s shoulder and chest, forcing him to let her go.

The instant he released her, she let herself fall back into human form.

They both ignored Lynzi frantically shouting their names—well, not
her
name, not really.

Sahara coughed once and rubbed her throat before saying, “Just like old times.”

One hand over the bleeding claw marks in his shoulder, Christian waved Lynzi back and answered, “Not
just
like.” He had pulled enough power out of Sahara before she forced him to stop that he was able to keep the new wounds from bleeding, but he couldn’t do more. Still, it was enough to make his
point. He wasn’t the same human kid she had known six years earlier.

“Are you all right?” Sahara asked, at the same moment that he demanded, “Where’s Alysia?”

Lynzi tried to intercede, saying, “Christian, I told you—”

Sahara cut her off, asking, “She’s not here?”

She wasn’t feigning ignorance. Her skin paled and her breath hitched as the only other possibility occurred to her. If Alysia wasn’t in the hospital, then she had to be with the person who had offered the money to abduct her. Sahara’s presence here made it damn clear who that was.

“Lynzi, Christian and I have to go,” she said.

“I think we need to
talk
,” Lynzi replied. “And Christian shouldn’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” Christian interrupted. “Sahara, come on.”

“Absolutely not,” Lynzi objected, grabbing his arm.

Christian could feel the crackle of her power like static electricity. He knew that given his current weakened state, she could take him down in an instant.

“It’s okay, Lynzi,” Sahara said, reassuring the witch with a soft tone and a forced smile. “Christian and I have … a history. His reaction is understandable. And he’s right that I need to go with him. I can’t explain now, but I will call as soon as I can.”

Lynzi stared at Sahara, hearing every half-truth in her words, Christian was certain—especially the bit about
I will call as soon as I can
. Sahara had no intention of calling.

“If it’s your choice to leave, Sarik, then I won’t hold you here.”

She released Christian’s arm reluctantly, not entirely withdrawing her power until the last moment. He stood, and Sahara came to his side. He looped an arm over her shoulders, and she wrapped one around his waist, as if six years hadn’t passed since the last time they had leaned against each other, concealing exhaustion and weakness under a veneer of companionship.

Each step hurt, but Christian trusted that he could keep his body under control long enough to find out whether Alysia was safe.

“Does Kral have Alysia?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Sahara answered, “but if she isn’t here, then I’m afraid it’s likely.”

“What are you going to do?” His instinct was to haul Sahara back to her father, trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey, but in his current state, he had to hope she didn’t plan to fight him.

“I have to face my father,” she said in a small voice.

If that was her plan, then she would come with him willingly.

“I need to make a call,” he said as they reached the reception room, where a very stern, disapproving secretary saw him and instantly started forward with a frown that made him realize he was wearing a hospital gown. Given the damage his body had sustained, he suspected his clothes were not in any shape for him to put back on.

“That’s fine,” Sahara answered. “I need to—”

Ignoring Sahara for the moment, Christian forestalled the secretary’s protest by catching her hand and shoving the
thought into her head:
There’s no problem here
. It was about as subtle as he could be right now.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Sahara said while Christian dealt with the now utterly bewildered secretary.

He didn’t like letting her walk away, but she wasn’t going toward an exit. He kept an eye on the hall she would need to pass through if she wanted to flee. Meanwhile, the secretary graciously brought him behind the desk and handed him her cell phone, since, like his clothes, his own phone was probably useless.

He dialed and a surly female voice answered, “Yeah?”

“You owe me one hell of a favor,” he informed the leader of Crimson. He had seen the explosion coming an instant before she had, giving him just enough time to shove the burgundy-haired human out of the way and take the brunt of the blast himself.

“Christian,” Ravyn replied flatly. “You’re alive.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I hate owing people favors,” she answered, “but I’m good for this one. Which girl do you want me to retrieve, and in how many pieces do you want the tiger?”

Speaking of tigers, Sahara had just returned to the lobby and was walking toward him.

“I’ve …”

Christian trailed off, because Sahara wasn’t alone.
What the hell?
He stared at the two children with her. How old were they? Aside from a few twisted individuals like Kral, few members of Bruja exposed their children to their work, if they
had children at all. As a result, Christian had little experience judging the ages of little people.

“Frost?” Ravyn asked. “You still there?”

“Get Alysia,” he said. “I have the tigers. Tiger.”

He had to brace himself on the edge of the counter as he stood. He dropped the phone and didn’t bother to pick it up. He really hoped Sahara wasn’t planning to put up a fight, because he wasn’t entirely sure he could win against even the toddler-sized kid with her. Kids with Mistari features, obvious Mistari blood.

Sahara said something softly to the older kid and then walked back to Christian’s side. “Christian, this is Jeht and Quean,” she said, utterly failing to provide the information he wanted. “I need to drop them off somewhere safe first, but you and I have to get to Onyx as soon as possible. If Kral has—”

“Are they yours?” Christian asked, because obviously Sahara wasn’t concerned with explaining why she had two children following her.

“Yes,” she snapped. “Are you listening? If Alysia isn’t here, then she’s—” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Yes, they’re
with
me, and they’re my responsibility and nominally part of my tribe at the moment,” she clarified, “but no, they’re not
mine
. Don’t you think you would have known if I had a kid when I was
thirteen
?”

The older one was nine, then. Christian bit back his response, which would have been that he’d had no idea how old the kid was and had been terrified that he could be
six
. There were certainly stranger reasons why a sixteen-year-old girl might run away from home.

Of course, he knew exactly why Sahara had run. He and Alysia had found Cori’s body in that cellar. Christian and Sahara had done what they could to protect her, but that sweet human girl had been nothing but cannon fodder from the moment Kral had made his disinterest clear.

“I know you want to get to Alysia—I do, too—but I don’t want to bring the cubs to Onyx,” Sarik said. “Doing so will only put them in my father’s power. Do you know a place—”

“They can stay at my house for now,” Christian said. “It’s on the way, and given our past relationship, it meets the letter of Mistari law in terms of having them in your territory.”

Normally Christian wouldn’t have been so swift to let anyone into his space, but he wanted to get to Alysia, he didn’t have the energy to argue with Sahara, and he absolutely agreed that the boys shouldn’t be brought within ten miles of Kral. As long as they remained in Sahara’s territory, she could legally claim them as her own. The six years that had passed did not negate the fact that, once upon a time, Kral had set Christian up as Sahara’s mate. That made his territory hers by Mistari law—law he would call upon only insofar as it was convenient. Keeping the boys safe was one thing, but if
Sahara
intended to move in, they were going to need to renegotiate.

At least going by his house would give him a chance to get some real clothes. The hospital gown was a little drafty for a dramatic confrontation with an ancient tiger.

A wave of dizziness hit him as they entered the elevator. Sahara caught his arm, and they both stumbled.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“He’s hurt?” the older kid asked.

It had been years since Christian had heard or spoken ha’Mistari, but as long as Jeht stuck to simple, two-word phrases using familiar words, he could follow.

Sahara, however, replied in rapid speech that made no sense to him at all. She then switched back to English to ask Christian, “Well, are you?”

“I’ll be better when we find Alysia,” he answered.

He certainly wasn’t up to a fight with the old tiger, but if Kral had taken Alysia in order to track down his daughter, then hopefully showing up with Sahara would make him realize that continuing to hold his prisoner was unnecessary.

You’re pushing yourself to the point of stupid
.

He could practically hear Pandora’s voice in his head. Most of the last year had been devoted to learning how far his body and mind could be pushed. Right now, he was burning too many resources just to keep himself functioning. He needed to feed, heal, and truly
rest
.

Soon
, he promised himself.
Soon
.

I
T WAS EARLY
evening when they reached the Onyx Hall, so the place was busy. Six years earlier, Sahara would have appreciated that; she’d always loved making an entrance. Sarik was less pleased with the way heads swiveled toward them when she and Christian stepped through the door.

Christian was leaning on her shoulder in a way that probably looked possessive, or at least friendly. Others couldn’t tell how much of his weight she was supporting. They also didn’t know there was a tacit threat in his touch. If she tried to wriggle away before they reached her father, she was sure she would be treated to another taste of the Triste’s power.

Even the novices who had never seen Sahara kuloka Kral seemed to recognize the sudden buzz among the older
members. The whispers made the spot along her spine between her shoulder blades crawl, expecting a knife. How many wounds, bruises, and broken bones had she received in this place—or given, for that matter? Kral had insisted that only by being the strongest could she make others fear her enough to follow her, obey her, never cross her, either to her face or behind her back. In the end, it hadn’t been enough. Cori had been the example that Sahara’s enemies had made for her, their way of showing her that she wasn’t strong enough to protect anything, even her own sister.

“Where’s Kral?” Christian asked the nearest archer, a younger member Sahara didn’t recognize.

“Somewhere around here,” the archer answered. He swept his gaze up and down Sarik’s form, his expression openly skeptical and insolent. It was not a look she ever would have tolerated in the old days, but she had been back barely seconds, and she was tired. Of Christian, he asked, “Who’s the—”

Christian didn’t let him finish. Without even needing to remove his arm from Sarik’s waist, Christian put the archer on the floor with one graceful, practiced move.

I’ve been gone too long
, she thought. It was going to take time for her to relearn all the habits that had protected her for so many years. Onyx had humans and non-tiger shapeshifters and Tristes, but Kral ran it like a Mistari clan. It was not a place where one could afford to be tired.