Journeyman’s Ride Read online

“Spit it out, princess. You called him a ‘ruffian.’ So what the hell did he do besides steal the spyders? Sounds like what’s between him and you is personal.” Vi be damned. Danner was starting to believe her nonsense.

  She looked at him warily. “Why do you wish to know?”

  “Just answer the fucking question. Did he rape you?”

  “Gods no.” She made a face, and the sheer relief he felt made little sense. The woman didn’t belong to him. She wasn’t even a friend.

  Miranda refused to meet his gaze as she explained. “He showed me a terrible moving picture. In it, naked men and women engaged in…illicit activities.”

  Having expected much worse, Danner eased into a chuckle. “He showed you a sex pic? Hell, princess, in some towns that’s called foreplay.”

  “Well, after he showed it to me, he tried to kiss me.”

  Not that Danner could blame him. Hadn’t he done the same thing yesterday? Guilt suddenly rode him. He coughed. “And?”

  “I told him no. But he didn’t stop.”

  “You didn’t tell me no.” He wanted that clear right now.

  “That has nothing to do with Philippe. Really, Danner.”

  “Okay, then. So what happened?”

  “I set his personal spyder on him. The dervish spun him into a cocoon in seconds. Unfortunately, his brothers found us and much amusement was made of the incident.”

  Danner suddenly understood a lot more. A young, spoiled prince, scorned by a beautiful woman, sought revenge. Then something else made sense. “The spyders. That’s why Philippe stole them five years ago. Because you made a fool of him with one.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “But how was I to know Philippe’s brothers would poke such fun? They spread the story all over York! Philippe became a laughingstock. He’d only ever talk to Clarissa after that. I suppose she pitied the fellow.” A haunting look fell over her face. “She wasn’t as bad as the posts reported, you know. Though rumor paints her as a selfish little prig, she did try to be loving.” She cleared her throat. “And now Philippe is holding her captive in the Crystal Palace.” Anger darkened her eyes into shards of black amethyst. “Danner, I’m very worried. He insists he’ll not only get her with child and ruin her future if I don’t turn myself over, but he’ll implicate me in her disappearance as well. As it is, I can’t let anyone know we’ve been separated. Just being without a chaperone all this time will ruin her reputation, such as it is,” she muttered.

  His mirth died. “The East doesn’t make much sense, but I think I understand the real problem. Philippe still wants you, you don’t want him, and Clarissa is in the middle of it all. With one swipe, he’s going to get you and Clarissa’s fortune, if not her crown, if it’s known he’s fucked her.”

  She blanched at the crudity, but he wanted the details spelled out. No more misunderstandings for Danner. No sirree.

  Miranda nodded. “You have the right of it.”

  “So why do you think you have a chance in hell of turning him around? It’s in his best interest to ruin Clarissa right now. To tell the East she’s been with the Scourge of the West for months.”

  Miranda smiled, her devious grin one that had him hard in seconds. “I have him in check. One wrong deed and a godbolt will strike him dead.”

  He regarded her with new respect. “The gods owe you some favors, hmm? This might not be as dangerous a trip as I’d thought.”

  She frowned. “Not exactly.” She fingered that chain again.

  “Oh hell. What now?”

  She glanced around her, for what he didn’t know, considering they hadn’t seen another human being since they’d left Endville. Then she pulled out the chain and rested the stone between her breasts.

  He forced himself to concentrate on the stone.

  “It’s charmed,” she whispered. “Watch.” She wrapped her hand around it for a few seconds, then released it. The damned thing glowed. Purple light filled the crystal, and the mark of the bolt carved into its front stood out in sharp relief. “With it, I can absorb the godbolts as they fall from the sky, just like I showed Philippe. I can even call them at will. Well, sometimes. It takes a good deal of practice, and there weren’t too many places at home where I could practice undetected.”

  “But…The godbolts don’t hurt when they hit you?”

  “Oh no. They feel wonderful. So warm and soft.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Man, oh man. The Underworld was starting to look inviting. Talk about a helluva couple of days. What were the odds he’d meet a fellow journeyman in Endville, the armpit of the West? One who didn’t seem to know what she was? One who ate up the power like a dish of sweets? Charm, my ass. A stone can’t control the godbolts, only those of us with the gift can. Just what he didn’t need, more problems.

  He’d been trying to keep a low profile down here until he could figure out how to get home again. Bad enough Vi kept tabs on him, screwing with him whenever he felt the urge. One of these days, those godbolts would kill him, he just knew. But he couldn’t chance sending one back up at the prick. Danner didn’t need Frigg’s fixation as well. His interfering stepmother was constantly trying to punish him for that encounter he’d regret with his last breath. Now, if she looked hard enough, she’d see two journeymen licking up godbolts, especially since Miranda didn’t know better than to call on the wicked lightning.

  He glanced up at the sky and shook his head. “I have a feeling you’re behind this, you big bastard.”

  The rumble of laughter—of thunder—and the bolt of lightning that rushed through him were no surprise. Nor was the fact that the lightning split and raced through Miranda, knocking her hat clean off her head.

  Her white hair stood on end. Her eyes lit with holy fire. But when she moaned with what sounded like goddamn ecstasy, Danner had had enough. He gritted his teeth through the agony of the bolt until it turned into honeyed pleasure.

  He didn’t care about much more than the need to sate his raging hunger for Miranda. After setting the auton to detection mode to encounter any threats, he grabbed her and shared their lightning in a breath-stealing kiss.

  Chapter Four

  Her moan of arousal stirred him past want into need.

  He shoved his tongue inside her mouth and licked, sucked and sipped until the woman wrapped around him tighter than a vine. She fit him perfectly, tucked into his hard body that grew harder as she squirmed in his hold.

  Some dim part of him considered she might be trying to get free. Danner was a lot of things, but he’d never taken a woman against her will, and though his dick ached to the point of frustrated pain, he wasn’t about to start now. He tried to pull back, not wanting to scare her.

  “More.” She gasped and plastered her mouth to his again.

  Knowing she hadn’t been trying to get away but get closer made him ache worse.

  Danner cupped her breasts, but it wasn’t enough. He unbuttoned her jacket and tugged it off her. Then he quickly undid the buttons of her blouse. Beneath it, she wore nothing, and her round, firm breasts begged him to taste.

  He panted, “Gotta have you. Right now.”

  Miranda surprised him by not arguing. He took one rosy, ripe nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, stirring a sensual cry from the woman who tasted like lightning itself. So hot, feminine and fierce. Miranda continued to rub against his erection, and it was all Danner could do not to come in his pants.

  He shifted his mouth to her other breast and bit lightly on her nipple. When she moaned and shook, he sucked the sting away.

  “What are you doing to me?” she rasped and threaded her hands in his hair. “I’m burning inside.”

  Danner released her breasts to tug at her trousers. He unfastened them and delved beneath the thin fabric guarding her sex. The wet heat between her legs nearly broke him.

  “By the lightning, you’re wet.” He needed to be inside her more than he needed to breathe. Just as he’d unbuttoned his trousers, the alarm on the auton sounded.

  He
swore long and loud, cursing the bite of lust riding him hard. The hiss of a longtooth broke the sensual haze holding him firm. It coughed a guttural warning and its partner joined in the hunt.

  “Shit. Keep back, princess.” Danner released her, took a quick, deep breath and fastened his trousers while studying the threat. Several meters away, two longtooths approached, low to the ground as they stalked the auton and the two humans stupid enough to cross the Damned Plains by themselves.

  “A pair.” Miranda stared, entranced.

  Long of limb and body, the fierce felines had golden pelts flecked with spots of brown that blended seamlessly into the sandy plains around them. Two large triangular ears lay flat against their skulls, and their mouths remained slightly open, allowing the beasts better access to the scents of prey in the air. Their short snouts might have handicapped their ability to scent, but their keen eyesight, sharp hearing and mouths full of blade-sharp teeth more than made up for their olfactory shortcomings.

  Miranda’s expression seemed more thrilled than worried.

  Probably the first time she’s seen a predatory team. “They hunt in pairs. Handsome, aren’t they?” He called on the lightning still coursing through his blood and rubbed his fingers together. “Stubborn too. Go on back, you bastards, and send Hel my regards.” Hel, the queen of the dead, had a soft spot for animals, the more vicious the better. He held up his hand and static crackled between his fingertips.

  The hunters roared at him and flashed their fangs. Then they split up, apparently not ready to give up on dinner.

  “Shit.”

  “Danner?”

  She didn’t sound panicked yet. A good sign. “You keep an eye on the one circling to the right. Lemme take care of this one first.” Danner didn’t appreciate having his time with Miranda interrupted. He sent a light zap to the creature on his left and then hurried and arched his lighting at the one to their right, hoping to avoid bloodshed.

  Both felines flinched at their singed fur. Danner hadn’t wanted to kill, and he’d let them off with a warning.

  Neither seemed willing to take it to heart.

  The creatures shook their heads and yowled, rushing in for the kill.

  Miranda shrieked and let her lightning fly before Danner could reach for the rifle holstered on the auton. The beasts fell to the ground in a smoking heap.

  “Damn, woman. Now you’ve done it.”

  “What?” she snapped. Her shirt still hung open, her eyes sparkled and her hair waved around her head like a seething mass of white silk, caught in the intense energy field she generated.

  Annoyed at how much he still wanted her, Danner forced himself to turn away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her button up her shirt and slide her jacket on with shaky hands. He could still taste her on his lips, so he turned into the coming wind and caught a nose full of smoked cat. Disgusting, and just what he needed to get his head out of his ass.

  “We’d best make tracks. The scent of smoked longtooth is bound to attract predators from every direction. Next time let me shoot them with rockshot and we’ll be done with them.”

  She huffed. “I apologize if I made things more difficult by saving our lives. Why didn’t you simply shoot them in the first place?”

  Because I could barely think past the need to sink my dick inside you. “Thought it’d be more adventurous this way,” he taunted. “Though I sure am glad we made that deal. You’re a hot little piece. Desperate to feel a man inside you. You want to continue that little kiss, darlin’?”

  She clenched her jaw tight, the glare of anger in her bright eyes making the orbs look positively purple.

  “Oh well. Maybe later, hmm?” He smiled, though he knew the expression didn’t reach his eyes. Hopefully, he’d turned her off of him but good, because he sure as shit didn’t think he’d be able to turn away if she offered herself again. “Take a good, long look, princess. That’s your first introduction to the native longtooth.” As they watched, a passel of blood ravens floated to the ground out of nowhere and began feasting on the carcasses. The little bastards had the nerve to cackle at him while they ate.

  He started up the auton and nudged Miranda to follow him. They walked quietly for some time before she spoke again.

  “No wonder they call this the Damned Plains.”

  “Just wait ’til you see the human scum that lives out here.” He shook his head and prayed they didn’t run into more trouble before night fell. The lightning, added to Miranda, made his entire body ache with desire. His head throbbed, and he didn’t think he’d have the patience to deal with Vi’s temper tantrums for much longer.

  He sighed. Things could have been worse, he told himself and called upon the idiom that kept him going when times were tough: A journeyman’s life is never dull.

  Miranda tried not to look at Danner as they walked through the Damned Plains in companionable silence. But the gods save her, she couldn’t stop herself. Every glance showed her his large hands, hands that had caressed her with soft deliberation. That firm body had caged her, rubbing against her with a hunger that made her yearn for so much more.

  She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on the danger around her. Her confusing witch of a cousin. That dastardly Prince Philippe. Good gods, but the pair of them were made for each other. She wouldn’t put it past Clarissa to conspire with the odious man. The princess had never tried to understand that Miranda was innocent of the circumstances of her birth. The odd times Clarissa’d been pleasant were fraught with trepidation on Miranda’s part, because Clarissa had a habit of going from nice to mean in a heartbeat.

  A sense of fairness nudged Miranda to acknowledge that with guardians like Queen Isabel and King Norcross, it was no wonder Clarissa had turned into a selfish shrew of a woman.

  The queen demanded perfection in her niece, and the king wanted a brood mare to carry on his family’s good name when he eventually married Clarissa to money. From birth, Clarissa had been taught she was better, prettier and entitled, whereas Miranda had been taught to share, to treat others as she wanted to be treated and to try to see both sides of any argument.

  Understanding Clarissa didn’t mean Miranda liked her. Miranda had never wanted anything to do with the spoiled young woman but she couldn’t escape a royal order or her mother’s deathbed promise to take care of Clarissa until she married, as best Miranda was able. Not minutes after she’d given her mother a tearful promise, her mother had died, and the king had ordered Miranda to attend to his wayward niece in order to pay for the burial.

  She wanted nothing more than to flee York for good. Once she finished this nonsense with Clarissa, she would start living. Clarissa would marry, the king would forget about Miranda and Philippe would leave her alone or suffer the godbolts she’d promised him. She would finally see all those parts of the world she’d dreamed about.

  She just had to get through several kilometers of danger, hot sun and a sinfully tempting man who made her want to forget everything but his kiss.

  Beside her, Danner took a long swallow of water.

  She scowled, annoyed she couldn’t help noticing the strong cords of his throat and the powerful swell of his muscles when he lifted the canteen to his lips.

  Where had all this attraction come from? The lightning, perhaps? She looked up into the cloudless sky, bemused at why the gods had struck at Danner in particular.

  “Danner, who is this Vi you like to talk to?” she asked.

  He wiped his forearm against his mouth and offered her the canteen, which she politely accepted. She took a sip and handed it back.

  “Vi’s an old friend of mine.” Thunder boomed, and Danner’s lips thinned. The blood ravens cawed from the sky above, always circling, following. “The Western god, and a great big pain in the ass.”

  Danner was on a first-name basis with an actual deity? She couldn’t believe it. He seemed as far from a priest as a man could possibly be. Miranda frowned. “Danner, really. One shouldn’t mock the gods.”

 
“Why not? They’re just as screwed up as the rest of us.”

  To Miranda’s relief, the sky didn’t rumble in response. Danner must have been joking. Surely he couldn’t know more of the Western god than any other man. “So how is it the godbolts don’t affect you? I see no crystal around your throat. Do you perchance have one in your pocket?”

  He raised a brow and looked down at himself.

  She followed his look and blushed to see the outline of an erection through his dungarees.

  “Nope. Not a crystal in my pocket.” He snickered. “I’m a journeyman.”

  “I’m not familiar with that title.”

  “Easterner.” He shook his head. “People call us Travelers.”

  She scoffed. “Legends tell of Travelers. Demigods who move from place to place in between and through the worlds as they help the hapless souls of men. You’re trying to tell me you’re a god, then?”

  “Hell no. Not exactly.” He grumbled something under his breath. “It’s hard to explain.” He continued to walk and said nothing more.

  “That’s it? You’re not even going to try to enlighten me?” The man irked her, to put it plainly. When she didn’t want to kiss him, Miranda wanted to smack him.

  “Nope. Now cease your chattering and let’s try to make it to Mournful Mountain before the moon rises. If we don’t find better shelter than these scraggly trees, we’re in some serious trouble tonight.”

  He had a point. The trees grew smaller and thinner as they continued west away from Endville toward the Spyder Haven. According to Danner, they had another seven days before they’d encounter Last Chance, the only town between the Damned Plains and the Spyder Haven. But this first part of their journey wouldn’t be easy. Most of the predators they needed to worry about lingered near the outskirts of civilization—if one could label Endville “civilization.”

  Though Miranda certainly hadn’t wanted to track Clarissa through the dangerous West, she had to admit she’d experienced more than her share of excitement thus far. To date, she’d ridden in a real steam locomotive. She’d seen actual blood ravens, longtooths, and earlier spotted a few sand lizards that liked human flesh. Truth be told, the species here were so much livelier than she could have imagined after seeing them through moving pictures and philosophical tomes of discovery. For the first time in her life, Miranda felt alive, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.