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A Feast of Souls: Araneae Nation, Book 2 Page 11
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Not since the last time I’d been lured by the promise of Vaughn’s bare chest glistening wet.
Thick brush lined both sides of the river to shield bathers from passersby. Setting my bowl on the ground, I crept as close as I dared and sat to get comfortable. I cringed as muck dampened the seat of my pants. The washers wouldn’t thank me for that. I’d best do my own laundry, then.
I hummed with appreciation as the males argued over two teams as they prepared for a rematch. Lunging and jabbing ribs, they ducked and splashed while hurling a leather ball from one player to another. I rose onto my knees and parted foliage with my hands for a better view.
Despite the multitude of players, one drew my eye time and again.
His dark hair slicked to his scalp. Eyes crinkled with merriment, and his smile…devastating.
A cold nose pressed to my nape and I yelped. Falling backwards, I sat in the bowl. Brynmor bared his teeth in a canis grin as I scowled and fumed at how best to stand without breaking my bowl. When his ears swiveled, I held my breath, listened. Not a single yell splintered the silence.
“Vaughn will love this.” Bram’s head and shoulders appeared above the tangled brush.
“What did you find? Because if it’s like the last time, I doubt he will…” Lleu stared down at me stuck in my bowl, and he threw his head back with laughter. “I never would have guessed.”
Strong hands gripped my arms and lifted me onto my feet. Suction held the bowl in place.
Or it did until someone slid a finger between the rim and my pants, tracing the ridge stitched down my rear. Wet balsam filled my nose. I flinched when the bowl fell, shattering on my heels.
“It seems we have ourselves a voyeur,” Vaughn purred. “What to do with her, hmm?”
“I have a few ideas.” Bram’s eyes took on a dreamy quality.
Vaughn tensed behind me, and Bram dropped his arm, at least the one I could see.
Lleu recoiled, shoving Bram. A splash resounded. Glaring at Vaughn, Lleu said, “You can’t be serious. She’s a—a healer, the niece of the bloody maven whose hospitality we’re enjoying.”
“I know.” Vaughn rasped wicked fangs over my pulse. “Delicious, isn’t she?”
Casting about for my clansmen for help, I saw they had left me to my fate. Cowards.
“Don’t do it.” Lleu pointed a finger and waggled it at Vaughn. “She’s a lady.”
“Well…since you put it like that…” Vaughn’s warmth retreated.
Exhaling, I offered Lleu a timid smile. “Thank you for that—eep.”
My feet sailed over my head as Vaughn swung me high in his arms. Tucking me against his chest, he asked, “Did you just squeak, little mouse?” He brushed an impulsive kiss on my mouth.
Nails digging in his shoulders, I held on as he walked. “You said this—we—weren’t wise.”
“No.” He frowned. “I said I wasn’t sure following you to your room was wise. We are not a topic up for debate.” One fang pressed into his full bottom lip. “I will have you, Mana, but not in that way, not until you know who I am and accept it, accept me, for what I am and can’t change.”
Pulse fluttering, I clung to him. “What are you saying?”
“Hold your breath.”
“What?”
“Hold. Your. Breath.” He rocked me once, then tossed me.
Heart pounding, I gasped before water closed over my head. The river was cold.
Kicking off the sediment, I shot upward and gulped air. “You.” I could think of no worse insult.
His warm, male arms surrounded me while firm, masculine lips covered my mouth. He swallowed my gasp when the hot length of him brushed against me. His groan was pained, and I admitted I craved the sound. Fingers curled into my palm, I kept from exploring. Oh I wanted to.
Now I understood what I had interrupted the day Rhys had brought Lourdes to the river.
“We must stop.” Tradition curbed my need. I shoved him. “Water is sacred to my people.”
“I’m well aware.” Vaughn’s hips rocked against me. “How devout are you, exactly?”
Laughter welled inside of me, and at my first throaty chuckle, he joined me.
“Very,” I answered, slapping his shoulder. “Help me to the sandbar.”
He did as I asked, releasing me with reluctance I found endearing. “Will you bathe?”
“I won’t with you.” I glared at Bram and Lleu. “And I won’t with them watching.”
Both males waved, grinning, sitting in their underclothes, dangling their feet into the water.
“We’re done here. Enjoy yourself.” Vaughn waded closer. “I’ll see to it you’re left alone.”
I collected my soap. “Can I trust you’ll keep your eyes to yourself?”
He snorted. “This request comes from the female who spied on my bath?”
Gesturing toward the mound of clay shards, I said, “I had no water in my washbasin.”
“Liar.” He teased me. “I find your duality endlessly fascinating.”
I wasn’t lying, really. The basin had been empty. But I chose going to the river over, say, a visit to my aunt’s room or using water from one of the clay jars kept behind the house for chores.
When Vaughn joined me on the sand, I became fascinated as well. He wore underclothes to cover himself, they all did, but water turned the thin fabric translucent. His erection jutted from a thatch of dark curls, hard, long and eager. I stared, and he made a pained sound, the one I liked.
“Don’t tempt me, female.” He gave me one last kiss before granting me my privacy.
This time, when I dove into the river, I was grateful for the cold.
Sikya met me at my room. Lips tight and brows drawn, she scanned me from crown to toes. I bussed her cheek, then squeezed by her to reach my hairbrush. One stroke, two strokes, three…
“I heard about what happened this morning.” Tone sharp, she added, “The entire city heard.”
My hand paused mid-stroke, then I resumed. “I went to the river to—”
“You squatted in the brush and spied on Vaughn.” Nails dug into her arms, leaving whitened half-moon shapes. “What has gotten into you? You are a spirit walker, a figurehead for our clan. You haven’t pulled this sort of prank since you were a child. I know your ordeal was taxing, and it’s understandable you would have warm feelings towards Vaughn for his role in protecting you, but acting with this sort of abandon will ruin your reputation. You have a soul mate to find. Your interest in Vaughn must end.” Her hand sliced through the air. “End it with him, today, or I will.”
Finished with my brushing, I began braiding my hair. “He will leave for home soon.”
Once he learned of his mother’s illness, he would go. Our flirtation would end soon enough.
“Thank the two gods for it. My brother threw his life and his love away on Isolde. I won’t let my niece do the same for her son,” she said. “His family has rained enough suffering upon ours.”
I held my tongue, determined not to bring Rhys into this matter. He was Sikya’s nephew and her brother’s only child. Her love for him was equal to her love for me, perhaps greater because of the gruesome manner of Kowatsi’s death. Ironic how Isolde now faced the same fate Kowatsi had endured. Gods’ web. Sikya was right. Our families had loved and lost and hurt each other so.
Yet my attraction to Vaughn was not lessened by history. Perhaps because I knew how short our time was, and I doubted once he left that he would remember me, his little mouse, anymore.
Vows given by the river might wash away. Promises made might shatter as my bowl had.
Doubt kept me quiet. Sincerity had rung through his words, but his circumstances were direr than he dreamed. Now was the time for him to secure his title, safeguard his family. Not woo me.
Sikya rubbed my arms. “I know how hard this is for you, but abstaining is worth the wait.”
Married for less than a year and she was already an expert in relationships.
My lips fel
t numb. “Vaughn won’t leave until he’s spoken with you and Chinedu.”
“I know.” She took my hand. “I came to fetch you so we can get this matter settled.”
Tears blurred the journey to council circle. I wiped my cheeks dry with the back of my free hand. The first step down made me stumble. Concentric rings descended to a central hub. Sacred fires crackled welcome. Though the circle boasted ample seating, the stadium sat empty but for a few rows near the bottom. Old Father lounged in a burnished chair made for him by his father, a true heirloom piece and the council’s presiding chair. If only he had weathered the years as well. His clarity of thought lessened with every season. Age corrupted his invaluable stores of knowledge.
“Ah.” Old Father banged his walking stick on the ground. “Sikya has returned.”
Chinedu stood to greet his wife. His brothers rose also, inclining their heads.
Bram was slower to rise, but Lleu leapt to his feet with a grin. Pascale sat at Old Father’s feet. She attempted to stand, but he pressed down on her shoulder until she relaxed back into position.
Her legs were folded, and the same silken chain shackled her ankles.
Exuding menace, Vaughn snapped a formal bow before striding toward us. His rough palms cupped my cheeks, thumbs swiping fresh moisture from beneath my eyes. “You’ve been crying.”
“Current events wear on all of us,” Sikya said. “Emotions are bound to run high.”
I stared up at him, and the depth of his emotions made me ache. “I’m well, truly I am.”
“I’ll ask you remove your hands from my niece.” Chinedu glared. “Else I will do it for you.”
“You are welcome to try me, Chinedu.” Vaughn smoothed a thumb over my lips. “Well?”
Old Father rapped his walking stick. “I will have no violence in my council circle.”
“Please. Don’t.” I grasped Vaughn’s wrists. “While Old Father is lucid, you should ask him your questions. If you anger my aunt and uncle, they will be less inclined to give you answers.”
His hands fell to his sides. Head down, he returned to his seat between Bram and Lleu. Lleu clasped him on the shoulder, leaned close and whispered. Vaughn shrugged, then shook his head.
“First meal will arrive soon.” Old Father patted his gut. “Let us settle this matter. Chinedu, I will ask that you share your findings with Vaughn.” Sikya cleared her throat. Old Father pointed his walking stick. “As heir to the Mimetidae holdings, he is a valued ally and will be treated with respect. He returned Mana unharmed. He also ensured the safe arrival of your new ward, Sikya.”
“Yes, Old Father.” Sikya sat on her stool by the fire as Chinedu began pacing.
“You attended the war council held some months past.” His gaze cut to Vaughn. “You know of the plague. How it sweeps across the southlands, leaving devastation in its wake. It seemed a simple enough task when Lourdes appointed us, as allies of the Araneidae, as concerned citizens of the Araneae Nation, to uncover the truth behind the bizarre occurrences in the infected areas.”
I read defeat in his posture and asked, “Have you discovered nothing new?”
“We are no closer to answers now than we were that first night.” His steps slowed. “We use Lourdes’s gold well and offer aid where we can, but we’re always one step behind the plague. It seems no matter our resources, once we hear rumors of infection and investigate, we’re too late.”
“Have there been any new developments?” Bram asked.
Although he was outcast, the Theridiidae clan home lay to the south as well.
“Each city or village is left the same way. The livestock are gutted, their corpses rotted, as if the flesh-eating scourge consumed them from the inside out. Females of a certain age in the afflicted cities go missing. Young and old perish. Males are found with their necks snapped. Few males, despite their ages, are spared.” He stopped, facing the fire. “Lourdes mentioned the Theridiidae threat, that the plague could be used as camouflage for a coup, perhaps by their clan or another in dire straits, but so far rumor has failed us. We meet with the Deinopidae paladin, my sire, soon. I hope Father will help establish outposts with medical supplies, enabling faster response times.”
“If you have no new information, then why dispatch a messenger to Erania?” Vaughn canted his head. “You knew I was there, as well as my brother. Was the message a private matter then?”
Chinedu exhaled. “I regret to inform you the yellow death was last spotted in Titania.”
Vaughn wavered on his feet. “That’s five days’ ride from Cathis.”
“It is,” Chinedu agreed. “You needed to be told so arrangements can be made.”
“Arrangements—arrangements? You waited to tell me my clan home, my mother, lies in the plague’s path and you speak to me of arrangements?” Vaughn was livid. “How long do I have?”
“I sent the message more than a week ago.” Chinedu was grim. “The plague…is there.”
Vaughn paled. “I must go.”
“Wait,” Old Father ordered. Expression pinched, Vaughn ignored him or perhaps didn’t hear him. He made it as far as the steps before Rahdi restrained him with an arm around his neck.
“Sorry, mate.” Rahdi grinned. “Old Father’s not finished with you yet.”
Torn between the need to run to Vaughn and my ingrained sense of duty, I stood my ground but faced my mentor. “What is the meaning of this? Release him. Isolde and his clan need him.”
Old Father cackled. “She does, does she? We will see about that.” His dry lips pursed. Shrill whistles rang in my ears. “Ah, there you are. Brother Canis, join us. No harm will come to you.”
My head snapped toward the stairs in time to see the black canis trot down them. With a sneeze, he plopped at my feet. His head tilted back, and for an instant I swore he winked at me.
Sikya’s eyes rounded. “Welcome, Brother Canis. It’s an honor to have you on our lands.”
Brynmor chuffed as if her praise was his due. As a former paladin, perhaps it was.
“Release me.” Vaughn struggled. “I have no time for this. I must leave now.”
Old Father frowned. “You must make time if you wish to spare your mother.”
“What does the canis have to do with…?” Vaughn’s gaze latched on to me. “You told me the canis was a messenger. You claimed he cautioned us to be with our families, at our clan homes.”
Claimed, he said, as if my story was utter fabrication. I swallowed his betrayal, made bitter because I deserved his scorn. I had known his mother was in danger and yet I played with him as though neither of us had cares in the world when I should have been demanding this council gathering.
Desperation to avoid this very confrontation had cost me his trust.
“I did.” My voice quavered. “I wanted to tell you—”
Brynmor placed a paw on my foot. His low growl warned me.
“Your message was specific.” He glared at the beast. “You let me believe the warning was a spirit’s fancy, but it wasn’t. It was a message meant for me, a warning to return home to Cathis. I should have realized… I told you canis are my dynastic emblem, and now the gods sent me one.”
“Once the gods set events into motion, no one can know the outcome,” Old Father chastised him. “Mana was right to withhold information from you she had no way to verify. Animals sense time and events differently than we do. The fact he is a spirit as well means he might have seen a battle or illness from the far distant past. Rare are the souls bearing news of true, current events.”
While Vaughn’s eyes held timid apology, I broke our connection. Old Father had spared me from admitting I took the spirit at his word. Of course I knew what Old Father did not, that the soul inside the beast was Araneaean. Brynmor’s perspective might be skewed by time spent adrift in our world, apart from his physical body, but the longer his spirit was grounded by the canis, the stronger his aura grew. Almost as if he siphoned energy from the host into himself.
“What do yo
u suggest, then?” Tension made Vaughn strangle on politeness.
“Give me a few moments alone with Mana and Brother Canis. We will meditate. I will help her channel the spirit.” Old Father appeared pleased. “If he has been to Cathis and brings news of the yellow death, then it is well worth the delay to hear a firsthand account of what awaits you.”
Indecision tightened Vaughn’s expression. “I will give you what time I can.”
Sikya stood and crossed to her husband. “It would be our honor to provide you and your two companions with three of our best varanus. We have no dried meats, of course, but we can offer you tins of water and dried fruits and vegetables. What can’t be salvaged from your campsite, we can replace.” She stroked Chinedu’s arm when he tensed. “Let’s not cast blame, love, all right?”
“He cost me a debt of honor,” Chinedu growled. “Let me swear to bring you a prize he knew was no longer obtainable.” Disgust twisted his face. “I owed Torrance. His blood for clan blood.”
A smile ghosted Vaughn’s mouth, and I saw him as he’d been last night, bloody, victorious.
“After our reception, you can hardly blame me for sending you on a fool’s errand. Your hunt gave me time for escape had I believed my life and the lives of my clansmen were in danger.” He rolled his shoulder. “Torrance drew first blood on me. As heir, that is one slight I won’t let pass.”
Chinedu grunted. The weighing of blood debts was such a masculine pastime.
“What of the ursus?” I asked. I had seen none since the previous night.
“We are using Araneidae funds to secure adequate meals for them. When Lourdes and Rhys visit, they can pick theirs from the ursus recovered. If they wish to claim the others, then they are welcome to them,” Sikya said. “We can sustain the beasts for a month. After that, arrangements must be made. Even with access to Araneidae gold, feeding that many ursus will prove difficult.”
Old Father stood with a groan. Pascale scrambled to her feet and linked her arm through his.