Black Moon Draw(36)

“Does she live?” the squire asked anxiously.

“Aye, she does. Turn your head away, boy.”

The squire’s eyes fell to her then away just as quickly. He held out the clothing he had brought.

“Kill the rest of the critters in the trap.”

Without hesitation, the boy drew a dagger and began hunting down the bugs.

The Shadow Knight faced his beautiful battle-witch with her wide eyes and near-naked form. His eyes swept over her while he held out the clothing.

‘Tis a shame battle-witches are pure. Or maybe, it was good, for she was already distracting him from planning his next battle.

“Bring her back when you are done,” he ordered her squire. Silently acknowledging the wisdom of putting distance between him and the most fetching woman he had ever met, he whirled and strode back to camp.





Chapter Eleven





Like I could sleep after last night. I still feel the sensation of his hands exploring my body. Not even the fact that I hate camping – the cold mornings, grass up my nostril, my stiff back – can distract my mind long from what happened.

Well, except for recalling those disgusting bugs. My bites healed quickly – the benefit of being a witch around here – but I jump every time anything touches me. I could really use a huge breakfast, some ibuprofen, and a one-way ticket out of this horrible place.

Who sets man-eating bug traps? What other horrific surprises are waiting for me?

“Witch.”

My whole body wakes up at the low, inhuman growl of the Shadow Knight. For a moment last night, I thought he was going to kiss me, and he all but threatened to drag me to his bed, if I hadn’t been a witch. I can’t get over how his palms branded my body. I never noticed that with Jason, never found it interesting what his hands were like at all.

Sex with the Shadow Knight and all his intensity and command would be incredible.

But unrealistic. I can’t sleep with a man who doesn’t exist, especially one who thinks I need to be pure to use my magic. I also wouldn’t dare do to his fiancée what Jason and his woman did to me.

He sure felt like he existed last night. Caught in the memory of his thick body, fierce expression and brownies, I forget my grumbling muscles and empty stomach long enough to start to smile wistfully. I spent the whole night imagining erotic fantasies, envisioning his naked body in every position, every –

“Witch!” he says impatiently.

Then there’s this attitude of his. He’s kind of a dick. At least, that’s what I want to believe, because otherwise, I can’t think straight. My thoughts stray to how gently he touched the skin of my inner thighs, my hips, my ass . . .

I twist to glare up at him. It’s daylight – and foggy. Last night was so nice and clear and we’re back to the fog that follows the Shadow Knight around, a sign of his curse.

“Come.” He’s wearing a kilt and chaps with no tunic, the sight of his muscular chest and arms filling my belly with butterflies.

Rolling my eyes, I push myself to a sit and take the canteen thing my squire holds out to me. Its contents taste like mint green tea, not water, and I drink a lot of it before handing it back and climbing to my feet.

“Today we go to the deserts of Brown Sun Lake,” the squire tells me. “Have you been there?”

“No.”

“We will take a route . . .” The boy continues to explain the route and expand on his earlier list of atrocities the Desert Knights have committed over the past thousand years. I listen curiously, amused by his animated features. “. . . and slay him.” He finishes and I shift with a grimace.

There’s no way I can ride a horse today. Uncomfortable already, I refocus on the boy. “How do you know all this history?” I ask. “It doesn’t seem like you have time for school if you’re riding to battle all the time.”

“I am a scribe,” he says proudly. “’Tis my duty to know history, letters, and writing.”

It’s an odd combination. They value history, even if no one wants to talk about the past. “Not many people do that here?”

“Nay. There are but three in our armies, and that is threefold what other armies contain!” he says in excitement. “I am with you to record your great deeds and help guide you in our ways.”

“And protect me.”

“Yes.” He blushes, as if he’d forgotten the most important duty.

That explains a few things. Like how he can hardly lift a sword and would probably climb a tree with me if we were confronted by anyone.

Bathroom. I look around, once more surprised when an outhouse magically appears. I don’t question it this time, simply happy to have one around. When I emerge, the squire stands.

“We must go,” he says, indicating the mounted lord and master of the universe.

I meet the gaze of the Shadow Knight who handled me with a combination of gentleness and command last night. I’ve never thought myself submissive in bed, but I’m entertaining the thought now. My cheeks grow hot as we look at one another a little too long.

“Are we off to slaughter a bunch of –” I start.

With his usual charm, the Shadow Knight reaches down to grab me and hauls me unceremoniously onto the horse in front of him. I admire his strength but the manhandling? Every once in a while I start to think I’m doing the feminists of my world wrong by wanting to surrender each time he touches me.