Blood Bred - From The Heart Part 7

Baris glanced up at the sky. Night would be upon them very soon and it was unlikely they would reach Nowles before then. And he had seen absolutely no signs that they were even approaching a village. It appeared they would be sleeping beneath the stars, so there was no sense in pushing Deirdre for no reason. He nodded and dropped the pack, admitting silently to himself that he was feeling just as fatigued as she looked.

"I think I heard water through there," Deirdre said, pointing to a thick cl.u.s.ter of bushes. She unfastened her cloak and laid it aside, though she left her hat on. "I'm going to freshen up and fetch some water for tea. I'll be back in a moment."

"I'll see what I can do about getting a fire started," Baris said. He glanced at the towering trees. "Maybe I can gather enough fir boughs that we can at least make a soft bed for the night." He chuckled at her grimace and handed her the teapot. "Be careful around the river. The rocks can be slippery."

"I'm not a child, Baris," she replied with a slight grimace. She hurried away, obviously intent on a thorough washing in the cold waters.

Baris gathered enough wood for the fire and to last them through the night and had just gotten it into a pile when he heard a splash and a shriek. He dropped the wood he held and dashed toward the sound. The river was bigger and swifter than he'd thought, the water running in white rapids over large boulders and snags. Deirdre had been swept a good distance downriver and now clung to a fallen tree, though the current threatened to rip her away from her anchor.

"Hold on!" Baris cried and scrambled down the muddy bank toward her.

"Hurry!" she screamed, adjusting her position to try for a more secure hold. One arm slipped from the wet wood and she was momentarily pulled under. She resurfaced, gagging and coughing, her dark eyes desperate.

Baris scanned the banks for something he could use to hold out to haul her back to the sh.o.r.e. He picked up a length of branch but it was too short.

"Baris!" Deirdre shrieked again, struggling wildly to retain her hold.

Baris stared at her in bewilderment. Then it came to him. He could shapeshift. A bear would be able to handle the strong current. If he didn't slice Deirdre open with his claws. He set his jaw and called his magic to his aid. It came slowly, grudgingly, and he wondered how long he would be able to maintain the shift. The moment it was complete, he waded into the cold water, finding solid purchase with his large padded feet. It took him only a moment to reach Deirdre. She reached out for him, pure terror in her eyes. Her hand closed about his long, s.h.a.ggy fur in a desperate grip. He winced at the pain but braced himself against the battering current as she hauled herself onto his back. Once he was sure she was firmly aboard and holding tight, he slogged back to sh.o.r.e.

The shift lasted only long enough for him to climb up the steep bank to solid ground. He collapsed, gasping, and a moment later felt her roll off his back to lie next to him. For a moment, neither of them said a word, being too involved in catching their breath. Then Deirdre broke into sobs.

"I'm sorry," she wailed. "I'm sorry. I should have been more careful. Thank you, Baris. Oh, thank you!" She wrapped her arms about him in a fierce hug, her whole body trembling.

Baris rolled over and held her against his chest, fighting for the strength to stand up. He could feel her shivering.

"Come on. We need to get a fire going. You're soaked. You'll catch your death of chill." He staggered to his feet and helped her up.

"I lost my hat," she sobbed. "My beautiful hat."

Baris stared at her wet and muddy face and suddenly he laughed out loud. "Your hat? That's what you're concerned about? Your hat?"

She looked up at him, dark curls hanging limply on each cheek, water trailing down her neck, disappearing into her cleavage.

"I liked that hat," she mumbled.

The words brought even more laughter. He brushed her wet tangles aside, careful to keep his hands well above that ample bosom that seemed to beckon him to touch.

"I'll get you another, then. Come on." He put one arm about her shoulders and urged her back toward the fire pit.

Once the fire was going, Deirdre huddled near it, shivering uncontrollably, her lips and hands blue. Baris shook his head and pulled his blanket from his pack.

"Get out of those wet clothes," he ordered, handing the blanket to her before yanking his own from where she had stashed it. "Thank goodness you took off your cloak. At least you'll have something to wear until your clothes dry." He held up the second blanket to afford her some privacy, though he could see quite well over the top. He simply didn't have the strength to hold it any higher.

He forced his eyes to lock on the far distance as she peeled off the sodden clothing. Even so, he caught flashes of creamy white skin, filled out in all of the right places. He finally closed his eyes, fighting the temptation that raged through him to throw the blanket to the ground and warm her in a much more pleasant manner. He chastised himself for his thoughts and forced them back to Anika and Thale.

"There," Deirdre announced. "I'm dressed."

He lowered the blanket as she pulled the cloak together in the front.

"Did you lose the teapot as well? Hot tea would help a great deal in warming you up."

"No, I think it's still sitting on the bank."

"I'll fetch it then." He wrapped the blanket about her shoulders and went in search of the teapot. He found it sitting on a flattened muddy spot near the water. As he bent to fill it, his gaze wandered over the area and he frowned. There was really no bank here, just a muddy beach. He didn't see how she could have fallen in. Unless she had waded out to wash and slipped on the stones beneath the water. That was probably it. With a sigh, he stood and returned to the camp. There was no sense in even trying to go to the Lair tonight. Not with the magic he had just expended. He set the teapot near the flames, then turned to unpack something to eat.

Deirdre was still shivering and had huddled into a tight ball, the blanket drawn close. Baris could see water dripping from her hair and he searched for something to dry it with. Not finding anything, he took off his own tunic, then his undershirt. Deirdre looked up at him.

"Too warm?" she teased, her voice trembling.

He grinned and replaced his tunic, shivering as the cool leathers touched his bare skin. "No, but your hair could use some drying. It'll chill you through." He moved around behind her and began to blot the water from her long tresses.

"You didn't have to do that," she protested, albeit not very fiercely. "Now, you'll be too cold."

"I'm fine." And, in truth, he was. Being this close to her was making him very warm. He pushed the desire aside and concentrated on his task, but the more he tried to ignore the lure of her soft skin, the more he wanted it. The scent of iron crashed into his senses, driving his body to react. He needed to feed. He was weak with his last call of magic and Deirdre's overpowering scent was too much for him to resist. He dropped to his knees behind her, stroking her wet hair with gentle wipes of the cloth. The creamy white skin of her neck seemed to glow in the firelight, beckoning him closer and closer. He leaned forward, breathing deep of the intoxicating scent of the iron. A moment later his mouth was on her neck, his arms wrapped about her. She moaned and leaned against him, her breathing sharp and fast. Baris could no longer control himself. He pulled her tight, and fed, not even worrying about the responses his body was experiencing.

CHAPTER 9.

Baris woke shaky and weak, and yet strangely aroused. He couldn't remember his dreams completely, only that Deirdre had figured prominently in them. He sat up groggily, then shivered as the cold morning air wrapped about him. The fire had gone out. Deirdre was nowhere in sight and Baris staggered to his feet, alarmed. He called her name into the dark woods about him. It seemed to rebound to him, echoing shrilly in his aching head, and he clutched his temples, wincing.

"Baris?"

Her soft voice, concerned and questioning, came from behind him. Baris turned slowly but even so his head spun and he reached out for something to steady himself. He found it in Deirdre's grip.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Where were you?" he countered, his tone far more demanding than he had intended. He noticed that she was dressed and was glad of it. The condition he was in, he didn't know if he could resist her if she had been standing even partly nude before him.

"I went to get some more wood," she replied. "I was cold and I used up all we had."

He blinked, only now realizing she held a bundle of branches in the crook of her arm. Guilt at his demanding tone flooded him and he reached for the wood. "Let me."

"No, it's all right. You don't look so well. Maybe you'd better sit down. I'll brew some tea. That should help. And there's still some bread left over from dinner."

He didn't have the energy to argue and collapsed back onto the hard ground, shivering. Deirdre dropped the wood onto the blackened ash, then turned and picked up her discarded blanket. She draped it gently across Baris' shoulders. He gave her a wan smile and pulled the heavy cloth close, pushing aside the urge to pull her inside it with him.

It seemed to take her forever to get the fire started. Forever that he sat and watched her as she bent this way and that, twisting and turning in some strange, exotic dance to entice the wood to flame. At last, smoke wafted into the air, curling upward like a snake slithering into the sky, but no flame appeared. Deirdre leaned over and began to blow softly on the smoldering wood. Again, her bosom threatened to show itself, straining at the thin ties holding it back. Baris stared, fixated, hoping and yet dreading the possibility that those ties would fail. Scowling, he hunched further into his blanket.

He had never been this weak before and could not fathom why he was now. Merely shapeshifting as he had done the night before could not be the reason. He had shifted hundreds of times, into things far more powerful than a bear. Even if he had expended energy in rescuing Deirdre from the river, it still should not be affecting him as it was.

She looked over at him with a shrug of resignation.

"The wood is damp. It seems we will go without tea this morning. Unless, of course, we can find a village. I, for one, would love a decent bed beneath me tonight."

Baris said nothing, forcing his thoughts to Anika. If he was this cold and miserable, what was she enduring? The question plagued him, drove him to his feet, though his knees threatened to drop him back to the hard ground. He had to get to a village, regain his strength and go to the Lair, get help to find his wife. And he needed to see his son, to know that he was all right, that he had recovered from the snakebite.

Deirdre seemed to read his thoughts and hurriedly repacked their meager supplies. She drew her cloak close and came to stand beside him.

"Will you be able to walk?"

He nodded, took the pack and started off, as if in proof. Deirdre stayed close beside him. The idea both irritated and pleased him. It was as if she expected to have to catch his falling body any moment. The thought was almost humorous. If he did topple, there was no way she could support him. She would end up on the ground as well, probably being crushed by his muscular form.

The thought of pressing against her soft curves sent new aching through Baris and he frowned, trying to push the image from his mind. But it remained to torment him and more than once, he glanced at his companion, knowing his l.u.s.t must show in his eyes. Deirdre seemed not to notice, however, and that only furthered his sense of guilt. Anger at himself drove him forward, his pace fast and long-stepped. Deirdre struggled to keep up.

At last, she grabbed his arm, stopping him. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion and her chest heaved. Each deep, gasping breath she took threatened to spill her b.r.e.a.s.t.s from their fabric cradle. Baris averted his gaze with much difficulty.

"When we get to a village, we need to buy you new clothes," he informed her. "It's too hard to walk in skirts. You need breeches and st.u.r.dy boots."

Deirdre frowned. "I don't want to spend any more money. I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine!" he snapped, then was instantly sorry for his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I'm just tired and weak. I need to rest."

She gave him a small, understanding smile.

"I know. Why don't I scry for a village? Perhaps if we knew how far away it was, it would help."

Baris hesitated. Though he desperately wanted to know, he wasn't sure about her using magic. He wasn't sure that he could stay away from her once the scent of iron surrounded her again. The thoughts only increased his guilt and once more sent his annoyance with himself rising. He shook his head.

"No, it's too soon for you to use magic. Besides, I don't know that I want you that close to the river again. I'm not up to fishing you out."

Deirdre grinned. "You did make one handsome bear, though."

The words brought a fragile smile to his face. "And you make one beautiful fish."

She laughed and snugged her arm through his. Baris caught at his breath, unsure how her touch would affect him, but to his relief, it brought a warmth only to his skin, not his loins.

It wasn't until late afternoon that they finally saw evidence they were nearing a village. A narrow dirt road emerged from the woods and meandered in a zigzag pattern across a wide field, skirting the rise and fall of the land. Baris and Deirdre climbed one such rise, pausing at the top. A city sprawled out not far away.

"It's big," Deirdre said softly. "I've never been to such a big place before. Even the village where I schooled wasn't this big."

Baris was mesmerized by the wonder and excitement that showed in her eyes. It only increased her beauty and reawakened his desire for her. He gasped when she suddenly turned to him and clutched his cloak with both hands, pulling herself close to him.

"Can we go exploring once we get there? Can we look at all of the finery such a village has to offer?" She looked again toward the city. "I'll bet you can get anything you want in a place like that. So much to see, so much to do. That's the sort of place I want to live, Baris."

"You may change your mind after you get there," he said. "Large villages like this are called cities and they oftentimes have their fair share of troubles."

"What sort of troubles?"

He urged her to walk. "Thieves, mostly. Out to steal whatever they can lay their hands on. Including a woman's virtue. You will have to be careful."

Deirdre's grip on his arm tightened. "I have you to protect me and I won't be stupid enough to go off alone again."

The thought of having to protect her was both inviting and daunting. He still retained images of the man he had killed in the alley. He didn't want a repeat of such. He almost wished they didn't have to go into the city. At the same time, he knew he needed to. He was exhausted and weak. He needed decent food and a place to recover from whatever ailed him. In a few days time, he should be able to go to the Lair. And then, then, he would find Anika.

They reached the outskirts of the city at dusk. Baris quickly shifted into the guise of a middle-aged man, taking his cue from the appearance of the people that crowded the streets, no doubt heading towards supper at one of the various eateries lining the board sidewalks. Horse-drawn carts rumbled past, churning up dust that drifted lazily through the still air, air that was filled with a potpourri of smells. Smoke, roasting meat, fresh-brewed ale, baked goods...all mingled with the scent of dirt, sweat, animal excrement and garbage. It was enough to set Baris' stomach on edge. He grimaced and scanned the streets for a proper inn.

He wanted something nice though not stuffy, comfortable though not costly. Unfortunately, the signs in front gave no hint of what might lay behind the doors and, in the end, he simply chose the nearest.

The lobby was large, well-lit and warm. Baris didn't realize how cold he had been until he was inside. He stepped up to the counter, picked up the small bell and rang it loudly. It took only a moment for the innkeeper to appear. When he did, he wrinkled his nose in obvious disgust at the bedraggled pair before him.

"How may I a.s.sist you?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

The tone irritated Baris and he slapped a gold piece, one of his last, onto the smooth wooden counter. He was far too tired to summon the magic that would allow him to retain the room for free.

"A room. With a bath. And two beds."

The man eyed the gold suspiciously, as if doubting its authenticity. Deirdre stepped forward, loosing her cloak at the neck and letting it fall away.

"Please, kind sir," she purred. "We have been through much. Our supplies, but for these small packs, were stolen by vagabonds. We barely escaped with our lives and only then by throwing ourselves into the river. We have spent a cold night in the woods and desperately need a place to recover. My companion is ill as well. Can you help us?"

The man's gaze had locked on Deirdre's bosom and his hard countenance softened. "I see. I understand. The roads can be hazardous at times." He picked up the gold piece, then secured a large, iron key from a pegboard behind him. He handed the key to Deirdre, ignoring Baris completely. "If you need anything else, let me know."

Baris frowned and tapped the counter to regain the man's attention.

"After we freshen up we would like dinner. Can you recommend a place that will have good, hearty food?"

The man started, his gaze snapping back to Baris.

"Yes. Cantor's. It's just over two streets. You can't miss it. Sign's as big as a house."

Baris nodded his thanks and steered Deirdre toward the wide staircase.

"How did you do that?" he demanded in a low voice, though he already had an idea.

"Do what?" Her voice was pure innocence.

"Entrance him so."

She laughed gaily. "I think he simply appreciates the finer points of a woman."

For some reason, the idea of Deirdre using her feminine wiles to get what she wanted grated on his nerves. Some unwanted voice deep inside his head whispered that he was jealous, and he blocked it out. It was ridiculous. He had no right to be jealous. In fact, he should be pleased if she found someone else to turn her attentions on.

"Here's the room," she said, stopping before a six-paneled wooden door. She fit the key in the lock and opened it.

The place was more than comfortable. It was almost luxurious. Baris wondered just how many nights the gold piece had bought in such an extravagant place. He dropped the packs on the floor and closed the door. Deirdre had already gone into the next room to inspect the bath. She returned, dropping her cloak on the nearest chair, a smile on her face.

"The bath is huge," she declared. "We could both fit in there at the same time."

Baris' gaze darted to her in surprise. "Both?"

She gave him a teasing grin. "I just meant it was big. Although--" She let the sentence trail off as she looked at him from half-closed eyes.