Copyright © 2008 Kelly Madden
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.
By reading this excerpt, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are younger than 18 years old, you must exit this site at once.
“You hurt me last night,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You didn’t seem to mind,” he replied evenly.
A wave of fury escaped before she could stop it.
He swayed. A look of pain crossed his features.
She dampened her power after he winced and cursed herself for caring. Tara brightened somewhat at the realization her powers were still viable. She eyed Liesar speculatively. At least, some of them. She still couldn’t sense anything from him.
A crowd began to form around them. Liesar stepped closer to Tara, his hands clasped behind his back. “Might we go somewhere else to talk?”
She forced away memories of tangled sheets and his voice calling out her name. “My room, I suppose.”
He arched his brows. “If you like.”
Tara glared at him. The arrogance. She wanted to slap that smug face. She fisted her hands once and then released them. She used the calming exercises learned in classes long ago and imagined a cool stream of water flowing through her body.
She stepped towards him and sent a controlled thought of strength.
He stumbled backwards.
She smiled. Yes. At least some of her power remained. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said airily.
He remained expressionless. “Then let us talk here.” He motioned towards a group of chairs free of occupants.
She sat on the edge of an antique fainting couch.
He seated himself next to Tara.
She moved herself farther away from him. “Well?”
“You are here to do us a service,” he said.
Her eyes grew wide. “What? Why?”
Liesar folded his hands in his lap. “I can be no plainer as to why. I can, however, give you more detail about what.”
“I can’t believe…how dare you…what do you…what do you mean I’m here to do you a service, you kidnapped me for God’s sake…oh,” she sputtered, slamming her fists on the soft surface of the couch.
Her fury burst from her like an erupting geyser.
He pitched forward and fell to the ground.
Tara slid after him and grasped his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
He sat up slowly and dragged himself back to the couch. “Yes,” he whispered.
Tara turned away and bit her lip. She stared out across the ballroom and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean, that is, I haven’t been so angry since….” She swallowed. “Never mind. I just, you made me furious.” She turned to him. “Look. You have to know, you’d have to know I’d be upset. You kidnapped me. I have no idea where I am.” She touched her neck. “And you, we….”
She looked up into the false night sky and then into his eyes. “Well, forget about that for now. Tell me what’s going on, please?” she whispered, her lower lip quivering. “Could we just start over?”
“I should like that. Starting over, that is.” Liesar touched his temple. “I’m not hurt.”
She took a shaky breath and slowly blew it out.
He adjusted himself on the couch as if his bones had become delicate. “If it seems odd I would take you away in such a manner, then understand it is as odd for me to think to explain it. We have taken so many of you, it seems somewhat inconsequential to elaborate.”
Tara remained silent.
He frowned. “Not needed information, a waste of time?”
“What do you mean ‘you’ve taken so many of us’?”
Liesar tilted his head, studying her. “You. Humans. For sustenance. But of course, you, Tara, you are different.”
Sudden recognition flooded her mind: the paleness, the feral expressions and cunning looks, glistening red lips. She swallowed hard and ran to the mirrored bar. She ripped off the scarf and examined her neck. She frowned. The discolored area still reflected back at her just like it had earlier, but there seemed no evidence of…. What am I doing?
Tara almost laughed on her way back to Liesar. There’s no such thing.
Available April 22, 2008