Night Shift (Kate Daniels #6.5)(127)

Mala glanced into the sky. Not so very long ago, she’d thanked Vela for the same. But it was too late. “I would not have you beside me.”

“I vow on my life that I would never hurt you again.”

“How could I trust that?”

“I’m not asking you to have faith in me. I’m not a god, but sometimes a foolish man, and you’ll be able to trust me because I’ll prove that you can trust me. Every day, I will prove it. Every breath. Not a single word or touch will ever be made with the intention of giving you pain.”

Tears burning in her eyes, she looked to the sky again. Where was Vela and her guidance now? There was none.

And she wanted to believe in him. Wanted to believe so much.

But it was impossible. “Even if I did trust, it cannot be. You can’t abandon your people. I can’t abandon mine—even if I can no longer live among them.”

“Then we will use Stranik’s passageway. It is only a week’s distance between Blackmoor and Krimathe through the tunnel. If ever your people needed help, you could quickly go to them.”

Mala knew of the passageway. It was said that during the creation of the earth, the snake god had fallen asleep, and the pounding of Temra’s fist had built the Flaming Mountains of Astal around him. When Stranik had finally woken and slithered on, the tunnel in the shape of his body remained. “That is only legend, warrior.”

“No.” There was certainty in his voice. “It had only fallen out of use when the demon was trapped there by the ancients. The Destroyer opened the passageway again and released the demon—and the demon tusker uses it as a lair.”

It could not be true. And yet it was not legend but fact that when the Destroyer had attacked Krimathe, he and his army had suddenly appeared in the mountains to the south, as if brought there by his sorcerer’s magic. At the time, the latest reports had placed him at least two years away, and Krimathe had still been preparing their defenses.

But it had not been magic. “So he didn’t want the demon’s power, as he told your father,” she said softly. “He wanted a fast route to the north.”

“Or both. My father believed Barin was left behind to protect the demon tusker from anyone who would destroy it, and that the demon’s power protected him in return. Neither can be hurt by blade or fire. Many of the weapons we used against Barin were those that are often used by demon hunters. When I returned with my army, we had many more—and yet my warriors still fell before it.”

“Then how do you propose we use the passageway if the demon can’t be killed?” A week’s travel to Krimathe. Incredible. Determination and excitement filled her just thinking of it.

“It was trapped before. We could do it again. But not in Stranik’s passage.”

Which would defeat the purpose. “Where?”

“The labyrinth? I know not.” His deep laugh suddenly rolled through the dark. “But we should discover a place quickly. If danger will come at me simply for being near you, then the demon will probably be upon us soon.”

Her excitement burst like a rotted eggfruit. How could she have imagined for one moment that this was possible? Perhaps the demon could be killed or trapped, but Kavik could not remain by her side.

“You won’t be near me, warrior.”

Already challenging her, he moved closer. Not touching her. But walking so near that her cloak swept against his leg with every step.

“I will,” he said, and iron hardened his voice. “We are both forsaken. We must both remain separate from our people. So we’ll live together in the Weeping Forest, and when Krimathe needs your help, we’ll go to them. When Blackmoor needs us, we’ll be here for them. And every morning I will kiss you awake—”

“No,” she whispered.

“—and every night I’ll hold you as you fall asleep.”

The longing that had pierced her with his every word was unbearable now. “Stop this, warrior.”

“Wherever you go, I will ride beside you,” he said, and added when a sharp snort sounded behind them, “and Shim.”

“You can’t risk this!”

“And whenever you wish, you can ride me.”

All at once, agony and frustration hacked through her control like an axe. No more. Mala whirled on his shadowed form. She slammed her palms into his armored chest and shoved. “Go!”

He didn’t move.

With a scream, she set her feet and threw her shoulder against his breastplate. Pain shot down her arm. A soft grunt escaped him, but he stood firm.

Eyes burning, she pushed harder. There were so many ways to defeat him. To make him go. To make sure he couldn’t follow. But all would hurt him more than he deserved.

“Use your sword, Mala.” The suggestion was soft. “I will not defend myself against it.”

And she could not use it against him. Not now. But did he know?

Salty tears scalded her ravaged skin as she backed away. In the darkness, her polished blade was only a dull slice of smothered moonlight. “Is it truly worth your life to have me?”

“Merely the chance to have you is worth far more than my life.” His massive shadow came nearer, then sank before her. Hoarsely he said, “But my life is worth nothing at all if you will not have me.”

Her breath wouldn’t come. It wouldn’t come, though she dragged it in, over and over, trembling as she looked down at him. His head was bowed, she thought, but wasn’t certain until she searched for his face in the dark. Her fingers slipped over his hair before sliding down to cup his jaw. He shook, and a ragged groan burst from him before he turned his cheek against her palm.