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Again, the blink. "Let's do it, then."
I pulled my silver knife from my boot. "I'll take your oath," I said. He gave me a questioning look, and I added, "We're both Weres, even if mine is from a birth defect?"
As he winced, I held up the blade. The edge glistened as I drew it across his palm. I wasn't squeamish when it came to blood oaths or injuries, just when somebody decided to slurp up the results. A thin line of red bubbled up on his hand, and I squeezed once to stimulate the flow.
Zach grimaced but didn't flinch.
"By the blood of your body, by the blood of your ancestors, do you vow to honor your promises and be cursed if you lie to us?"
"You have my word," he said slowly.
Blood oaths were binding contracts, at least among the Fae and the Earthside Supe communities. If Zach broke his word, we had every right to hunt him down and kill him without any ramifications, unless the police got involved.
"Tell me what's going on," he said.
"Remember, you're sworn to silence." I let out a long sigh. With a little help from Camille and Morio, I filled Zach in on what was happening in the Sub Realms and what ramifications the spirit seals held for Earth and OW. By the time we finished, he was sitting on the ground, speechless. Just then, Smoky strode back out of the barrow, waving for us to follow him.
He'd changed into a pair of white jeans, which showed off one hell of a nice ass, and a pale gray turtleneck. His near-ankle-length hair was neatly braided. I stared at him, suddenly aware of just how gorgeous he really was. I shot an envious glance Camille's way before I realized what I was doing. Whoa—shut down that train right now, I thought, before it becomes a runaway locomotive.
"Let's go. The trail isn't safe for you after dark," he said. Camille and Morio were hot on his heels.
I grabbed Zach's hand, but before I could drag him along, he whirled me around to face him. Without a word, he pulled me to him, his lips seeking mine.
Caught by surprise, I let him kiss me. The first taste of him was like a dusky port, smooth and warm. Zach growled low and deep in his throat as he pressed against me. He tightened his grip, one hand on my back, the other rubbing my ass. When I realized what we were doing, I pushed him away.
"Zach, no… not here. Not now."
He pulled me back into his arms and pressed his lips to my ear. "You want me as much as I want you," he whispered.
"I'm not a real Were, so you better just stop this now, before your clan finds out." I swatted him away. "We have to catch up to Smoky. We have to get out of here."
Zach grunted a soft assent and reluctantly let go of me. Unsure of what else to say, I turned and raced ahead, catching up to Camille and Morio. I could hear Zach's steps behind me.
"Delilah! Delilah?" he called, but I ignored him as I hurried through the woods. My body wanted Zachary Lyonnesse. But his comments about what the Puma Pride thought of us were still ringing in my ears, a vicious assault on my ego. I couldn't let them go. Not yet.
As we finally broke out of the trail into the yard near the house, reality hit, and I pushed thoughts of Zach to the side. We were headed home, all right, but who knew whether we were going to be too late to prevent Kyoka and the Hunters Moon Clan from finding the spirit seal? Wherever it might be.
By the time we reached Morio's Outback, all I wanted was a hot shower, a long nap, and a lot of food. Smoky elected to come back to the city with us.>Inhale…
… the taste of graveyard dust and dead man's hand on my tongue, and then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, marking me with a burning flame that scorched its way into the core of my being.
Exhale…
… and as I released my breath the second time, he let go, and I stumbled back, tripping over a loose root and falling on my tailbone. I scrambled away as best as I could, half scooting, half kicking myself along the ground. Camille let out a gasp and dropped to her knees beside me. I glanced up to see the others shaking themselves, as if they'd just woken up. Smoky motioned caution to Zach and Morio, warning them to stand their ground.
I stared up at the Autumn Lord, who stood silent and waiting. As Camille helped me to my feet, I realized that my forehead felt odd, as if something had embedded itself on my brow. I turned to her to ask if she could see anything, but before I could open my mouth, she started, staring at my face.
"Oh, Kitten," she said in a low voice. "Your forehead!"
"What is it? I can tell something happened to me, but I don't know what." Her expression was scaring me. Had I suddenly turned into a frog-girl? Or the creature from the Black Lagoon—who, as it happened, resembled the lemurans, one of our aquatic Crypto races back in OW?
Camille reached out and gently touched my forehead. "Delilah, you've got a black scythe branded on your forehead."
"What? What the hell?" I scrambled to my feet and whirled on the Autumn Lord, who was still standing, a silent figure. "What is it? What did you do to me?" My anger seeped through my fear, and I charged forward.
The Autumn Lord looked down at me—he easily stood six five—and gave me a cunning smile, his lips quirking the tiniest fraction at the sides. "You come seeking information. There will always be a price to pay when you call upon the world builders. Everyone who seeks my help pays me something."
I hesitated, wanting to argue that it wasn't fair, that he hadn't offered me a choice, but one look at his eyes told me it would do no good. What was done was done. There was no backtracking, no turning around, no running.
