Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 Read online

  “Had it coming for tricking me,” he all but squealed. “Put me down.”

  His piggish cries alerted nearby vendors. Most didn’t bat an eyelash. Good to see the turn a blind eye so you don’t see mentality still thrived here. Careful of Emma’s free hand, Harper sidled up next to her. “Do as he says.” His fingers brushed her arm. “We’re making a scene.”

  With a flick of her wrist, Emma drove the tongs through the male’s shirt collar, pinning him like a butterfly to the wall. He kicked his feet over ground someone else would have to help him reach. Red seeped through his shirt, making Harper think Emma had struck more than cloth.

  “Slaves are free now, with the same rights to a hot meal as you. If I hear of you refusing anyone’s coin, I’ll have your vending license revoked faster than you can say kabob.” She gave that a minute to sink in. “Understand?”

  “Yeah.” He panted. Sweat dribbled down his pale cheek. “Yeah.”

  Harper led Emma gingerly by the hand from the vendor’s stall, set her on the lip of the handcart, then lifted the handles, carrying her past the gawkers, giving her time to cool her temper. Once the crowd thinned, he parked the cart in a scrap of shade and walked around back. “Well.”

  Her shoulders hunched. “I could have handled that better.”

  He scratched at his cheek. “I would have walked away.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s early days yet, I understand that, but Askarans and Evanti are all demons. We’re all the same. Skin color, our pasts shouldn’t matter.”

  “You embraced earthen philosophy, I see.” His chuckle winded him. “I’m proud of you.”

  “What?” Her lips parted, and he longed to take her up on their invitation.

  “I had to beg Father’s permission to become a legionnaire. And do you know what I heard every day, all those years?” When she blushed, he knew she was remembering their old arguments. “That hope for freedom, equality, wasn’t worth the risk. But it is. And even if it took drastic measures, I’m glad you see that now.”

  “I would rather have kept my ignorance…” her expression softened, “…and you.”

  His chest ached to hear her say so. “If we could rewrite the past…” He twisted one of her curls around his finger. “I wouldn’t.” To change his past, spare himself suffering, meant heaping more of the same on Emma and Maddie. “I find this enlightened Emma an interesting lady.”

  She snorted. “She’s something all right, but a lady isn’t it.”

  “Well…” He drew out the word. “I suppose it is a rare lady who can pin a pathetic excuse for a demon to the wall with his own tongs.” Color saturated her cheeks, and her head lowered. “I’ll never forget the sight of it.” He caught her chin, angling it toward him. “All for my honor.”

  “No.” She bent her arm, pointing at her elbow, her voice petulant. “He burned my arm.”

  He sized up her wound, but scabs already covered the burnt flesh and would vanish by morning. She healed fast, and a bit of the ointment she’d used on him would finish the job.

  “Not until after you tricked him.” He released her when she fidgeted in his hold. “I kept my end of the deal. I didn’t as much as twitch. Whatever happened to not getting noticed?”

  “All right, you made your point.” She glowered at him. “You’re right. Earth changed me. Coming here, hiding behind glamour so we have a chance of Askarans treating us as equals, wading through their prejudice daily—it gets old.” Her sigh blew curls from her eyes. “With you here, I couldn’t—wouldn’t let him treat you that way. You deserve better. You deserve respect.”

  He bent down. “I knew it.” He kissed the delicate skin of her wrist, flicked his tongue over her pulse, tired of fighting the driving urge to taste her. “You were defending my honor.”

  Chill bumps coasted up her arm, giving her skin a delicious new texture. “Maybe a little.”

  He nipped her fingers while staring into her eyes. “Is there any way we could—”

  “Um, Emma?” Shuffling footsteps announced Isabeau’s arrival. “I tried to stop him.”

  Harper sighed against the softness of her cheek. “There goes our Dillon-free afternoon.”

  “I heard that.” Dillon dragged Isabeau along beside him, shoving her out front. “This was uncalled for.” He turned her loose, sending her stumbling. Harper caught her against his chest, and Dillon growled. He snatched her back and tucked her against his side, then stared as if wondering how it had all happened. “There are more lives than yours at stake, or have you forgotten?”

  Harper cowed Dillon with his glare. “Was there a reason you dragged Isabeau into town?”

  “Yes.” Isabeau patted her skirt, withdrawing an envelope with the previous night’s embossment from her pocket. “Aaron returned with this for you.” She jerked from Dillon and passed the letter to Emma. “You can thank him for ruining your plan.”

  Dillon’s expression tightened. “You were in on this from the beginning?”

  Regret flickered across her face, but she lifted her chin. “I was.”

  “I should have guessed.” His jaw set as he turned his back on Isabeau to ask Emma, “What does it say?”

  She fingered the heavy paper. “Roland has agreed to act as Harper’s patron. He’s granted him safe passage to Rihos.” When she glanced up, it was with a frown. “I guess that’s it then.”

  Spiced air kicked up around Harper’s heels, and for a moment, a distinct floral scent made his stomach lurch. Shaking off his unease, he nodded toward the cart. “With four of us, shopping will go fast.” There was no reason Emma’s boarders should pay for their rabble-rousing.

  “We’ll need to book a dune sled.” Emma’s anger-flushed cheeks paled. “They’re the fastest way to Rihos.”

  “Emma…” He reached for her, but she grabbed the handcart handles and wheeled away.

  Dillon’s shoulder brushed his. “I’ve never understood what you see in her.”

  “Good.” Harper gave him a shove. “If you did, we’d have a problem.”

  “You have no worries on that account.” Dillon started walking. “She’s all yours.”

  “Yes.” Harper watched her storm off down the alley. “She is.”

  Chapter Nine

  The prospect of traveling outside the city made my steps lighter, even though our destination weighed on my heart. When our transport arrived with a spray of sand beneath its glinting rails, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. I seldom left Feriana. I trusted Isabeau with the consulate in my absence, but habit tied me close to home. Whereas I used to worry over Maddie, now I had several boarders whose welfare concerned me.

  “Have you taken a sled since you came back?” Harper held open the door.

  I nodded. “Twice.” Was it so wrong stepping inside them made me remember my own childhood? How every time Father left me behind at the summer castle, whooshing across the sands and out of sight, I wanted to grow up rich and free so I could buy my own sled and follow?

  Those were the days before I knew him as more than an occasional visitor, a dashing male who brought me treats and offered to babysit Maddie so I could play in the garden. Despite my desire to please him, I’d heeded Harper’s warnings. Though Father’s gifts appeared innocent, Harper had known, long before my childish heart, that Archer’s motives were anything but pure.

  Shivering, I let Harper brace my elbow as I entered the sled’s oven-warm interior. I took a seat on the right, so I faced forward. Sometimes my stomach held less enthusiasm than I did.

  Harper sat opposite me. His long legs stretched so our knees touched. “Do you mind?”

  “I guess not.” The contact seemed harmless enough.

  “Good.” Dillon climbed in and sat beside Harper. He slouched down and rested his boots on the seat beside me, legs crossed, hands folded across his midriff, more comfortable than us.

  “Make yourself at home.” I scooted closer to the wall and farther from him.r />
  He jerked up his pant leg, exposing pale skin and a gash sewn closed by crooked stitches. “I guess your ‘take care of you’ speech ended with Harper.” He winced as he dropped his leg.

  After his stunt in the garden, I should let him hurt. He deserved it. “Put it back.”

  “No thanks.” He shifted, squinting out the window. I bent down, grabbed his ankle and lifted. “What are you doing?” He twisted, but I was stronger. He acquiesced before he got hurt.

  “Saving you from walking with a limp.” I dug around in the small bag slung around my hip. I’d brought ointment for Harper, but like it or not, Dillon’s wound showed angry red edges. “This is an infection waiting to happen.” I touched the deepest part with my finger, and yellow liquid seeped out. “I spoke too soon.” I applied the mash of herbs as quick as possible.

  He locked his jaw and gazed through the glass while I played healer.

  “You know bacteria thrive in sand.” I wiped my hand on a napkin, tucking the square away in case I could use it later. “You have two healers and neither thought to clean this?”

  “They’re both young, both in training, and both doing the best they can,” Harper said. “We don’t have access to the same resources you do. Few will brave the tents or mines unless they’re working in them. We don’t have city amenities to lure qualified healers from town.”

  He made good points. From what I knew, all the miners lived in tents. All the communal resources were also housed in tents. Only the stable and medical center used brick in their walls. With so few resources and no entertainment, it amazed me how the colony thrived. How content Harper’s colonists were. Though I knew from experience that ex-slaves held low expectations.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” If I drafted a grant and Nesvia signed off on it, they could begin construction of permanent dwellings. Nothing said home like four walls and a roof. The colonists deserved a sense of permanence, but I understood the delay. Construction costs at the colony probably prohibited all but the necessary improvements. Not to mention location considerations.

  “Thank you.” Harper twisted in his seat.

  Every building and road in Askara’s desert climes rested on magically reinforced framework. Otherwise, they were eroded or buried during winter, when sandstorms hit hardest.

  That type of magic required frequent reapplication. Most cities paid a master spell crafter to live within their walls. Crafters celebrated a level of status on par with nobility. It was a rare talent to bend personal glamour, twist that root of magic until it engulfed and performed a task beyond its intended scope. The city of Feriana employed one because it housed the vernal castle. Otherwise the budding community on its outskirts would have blown away within weeks.

  “Is your back hurting?” A husky tone crept into my voice. Two days spent with Harper weakened my resolve until thoughts of denying this thing between us turned brittle. Sex, if we indulged, wouldn’t solve anything, either. I wanted a cure for the heartbreak of living without him, but the bitter pill of reality was tough to swallow, and we both had a long way left to heal.

  He shook his head, gaze fixated on my lap. “I’m fine.”

  Heat tingled up the base of my neck as images of his face buried where his gaze lingered scorched my mind. That was one way we wouldn’t be relieving pressure on his back and wings.

  He would be sore on arrival, I could see that now, but I would make sure he had time and privacy to work out the kinks destined for his spine so the return trip proved less painful for him.

  To avoid returning his stare, I rested my head against the seatback and shut my eyes.

  Rihos lay a comfortable four hours to the north. Close enough if my position as consul required I make the trip, I could with ease. Yet far enough away, I slept easy at night. Well, easy enough. Sometimes the nightmares still came. My pulse spiked at the gnawing ache I dreamt of.

  I cracked my eyelids so Harper filled my vision. He’s well, safe, whole. Already I relaxed and let metallic blades sing in a white-noise melody that silenced the buzzing of my thoughts.

  “Emma?” Harper’s voice parted the fog of my dreams. “We’re here.”

  Groaning, I shifted on the seat until I sat upright. Parched, my throat scratched. “Thanks.” When he swiped a thumb across my lip, I had the uneasy suspicion I’d drooled in my sleep.

  He smiled at me, a real one, then cleaned his finger on his pants. “Come on.” He stepped out and offered me his hand. When I reached for him, he grabbed my hips and lifted me to the ground beside him. The imprint of his gentle grip lingered long after he’d turned to guide Dillon onto the narrow step. His leg had cramped at the halfway mark, and fever sweat dotted his brow.

  “Let go of me.” Dillon jerked his arm free. “It’s a leg cramp, I’ll get over it.” Harper released him, and Dillon staggered out of reach. He glowered at me. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I had stopped breathing, stopped thinking. My palms sweated and heart bled. I was home.

  Hot air cooked my lungs. Sand blown against my pant leg stung. My eyes burned. I tried, but couldn’t blink. The summer castle rose from the desert as if it were a sandstone extension.

  “Are you okay?” Harper interrupted my line of sight. I almost shoved him aside.

  Even with his body blocking out the present, I saw the past clearly. Maddie dancing through the garden as her bejeweled gown sparkled under the rabid sun. I followed, gaze darting to every darkened corner, scared. I was always so afraid pale hands would reach out and snatch her away. The only person I loved who loved me back. Except that wasn’t true. Harper was there too. Maddie’s miniature guardian worked on his stoic expression. Only, I made him laugh.

  He tickled my ribs and inhaled me. “One day, you’ll be mine, all mine, my Emmaline.” Then he lifted Maddie and spun her around so she was never left out of our fun.

  I crushed the ghosts of our youth. Those poor children never saw their future coming until it snapped them in two and left them broken. “I’m good.” My teeth chattered from shaking.

  Harper pulled me against him. He trembled through that contact, and I hugged him close.

  “Shh.” He spoke against my hair. “This place holds no power over us now.”

  But it did. It held the key to the hot mesh of our lives, his lost five years, everything.

  “Harper Delaney?” a clipped voice rang from the small courtyard. Our coach slid into the sand without a word from the coachman. I couldn’t remember whether I’d rebooked our passage.

  We turned as one toward the sound. Three Askarans passed beneath the arched entrance to the castle and met us on the hard-packed road. They wore the blank expressions and immaculate clothing typical of household staff. Brass glinted at one male’s hip. I stared at him.

  “Yes.” Harper nudged me a fraction behind him, and I growled a warning.

  “You’re under arrest,” said the man in the middle, “for crimes against the crown.” He pulled the metal from his belt, and a pair of elegant handcuffs sprung free. “You’re charged with the murder of the late Queen Eliya’s consort, Lord Archer of Jomire.” In a blink, he wrenched Harper’s arm behind his back. Snap. A second male closed in on him, twisted his other arm toward his spine. Click. The second bracelet locked into place. “You will also answer for the abduction of Princess Madelyn DeGray, Princess Ascendant of Askara.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Ice crackled over my heart and dread burrowed deep in my chest. I looped my arm through Harper’s and dug in my heels while my mind spun ragged.

  The guards, hidden in civilian clothing, tugged his bound wrists. They couldn’t move me.

  “Lady, I’m afraid they have no choice.” Roland’s voice lilted sweetly in my ears as he strolled down the path. “It’s all quite legal.” He held out his hand, offering me a place at his side.

  “I don’t understand.” I fumbled in my pocket for his letter. “You offered patronage.” I held his words crumpled in my fist. “You promised him safe passage
. You gave me your word.”

  “And I did not impugn myself.” He gestured toward the nearest guard, who seized the letter from me. “He has arrived, and he is safe. Those are the things I promised. I said neither that I would prevent a lawful accounting of his crimes, nor erase responsibility for his actions.”

  Harper’s words rang in my ears. Trusting a Sereian is foolish.

  “I was a fool to come.” Why had I trusted Roland? Why had I chosen his word over Harper’s? Simple. I hadn’t. I wouldn’t have. Somehow Roland had twisted my perceptions so Harper’s concern struck me as a personal attack against my history of addiction rather than the warning he’d meant.

  “Come now,” he said. “This is justice. You can’t fault me for wanting to have it served.”

  “You can’t let this happen.” I swallowed my pride in one easy gulp. “Please. Help him.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot. He’s guilty of the crimes of which he’s been accused.” He held his hands palms up and helpless. “It’s my understanding you were there. The incident occurred the night of Princess Madelyn’s ascendancy, correct? You witnessed the attack, did you not? And were also abducted?” His clever tongue flicked out to wet his lips. “Isn’t that true?”

  “Yes, but—” I scrambled for a defense, fumbling for words.

  “Then you must agree he should be punished?” He took a cautious step closer. “You can’t expect me to believe you would see your father’s murderer go free?”

  He poked at old wounds, and my anger rose up to meet him. “If you’re asking if I’d rather my father raped my sister in front of the whole of First Court, then no, I hadn’t.” I bared my teeth. “Archer was a monster. That he hadn’t managed to kill her before then wasn’t for lack of trying, it was a triumph of her genetics.” My fingers sank deeper into Harper’s arm the harder the guards tried prying him from me. “I would have killed him myself if given half a chance.”