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“You know, it’s absolutely not your fault that you haven’t been wounded or killed by now. You do everything necessary to procure that result. What if this monster of yours attacks us?”
“He’s not my monster. And Grimora’s fairly harmless, or he’s always seemed so. There’s nothing to be afraid of. At least I don’t think there is.”
“Right. Nothing but a monster of unknown origins and a dark sorcerer.”
“We’ll both be fine. I’ll protect you. Now get a move on and get dressed. I’ll get us something to eat before we go.”
I rolled out of bed, hoping that if I ignored my morning wood, it would subside, and Brandon would be none the wiser. I could smell his seductive scent. It lingered in the sheets and tempted me greatly. I jammed my legs into my trousers and walked stiff-legged to the door, reminding myself that my heart needed to be cold where he was concerned. He had a fiancé, after all. A sweet little omega that he no doubt lusted after.
“Roxbury,” came a soft voice behind me. It was the first time he’d used the old name he used to call me since we’d argued over it last, when he first came aboard. I hated to admit I’d missed it a bit. “Yes,” I said, with my hand on the door handle. I was hesitant to turn toward him at the moment, because my dick was at full mast, and I wanted desperately to climb back in bed with him and bury it in his ass.
“What if...what if your sorcerer can’t fix me? What if no one can?”
The question startled me, but not half as much as Brandon’s tone, which sounded lost and a little hopeless. His eyes looked suspiciously wet.
“Of course, he can help,” I said, forgetting all about my problems and walking back toward the bed. I couldn’t take his tears—never had been able to. He looked up at me with a bleak expression.
“I don’t know. Harrison said his healers were the best in the entire Morovian kingdom.”
“Fuck Harrison.”
Brandon glanced up at me and shook his head. “I love Harrison. He’s my cousin, you know. And a really good king.”
“There’s no accounting for your bad taste, dearie. Besides, he’s married to a harridan from hell, who tries to foist her evil religious beliefs on everyone in Morovia and the known world, and he allows her to do it.”
“I wouldn’t say her beliefs are evil, exactly.”
“Intolerant then. Ignorant, short-sighted, narrow-minded, bigoted and rigid as a fence post. Have I left anything out?”
He gave me a shy smile. “I hope not.”
“And like I said, Harrison lets her get away with it. If these so-called healers came from the queen, then it’s no wonder they and their ugly religious beliefs failed to cure you. Leave this to me, Brandon.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” he said, giving me a little salute.
I rolled my eyes at his cheekiness, and once I was sure he was no longer upset, I went up on deck to talk the cook out of some food. At least Brandon had been smiling when I left him. It was much better than those sad eyes he sometimes gave me.
When I returned to the cabin, loaded down with breakfast, Brandon was up and dressed, though still looking a bit apprehensive. We ate quickly and then went up on deck to climb into the boat that would take us to shore. All the way, I could feel eyes on us and knew that the occupants of the cave were watching us. I’d told my men they could go back to the ship after they dropped us off and that we’d signal them to come back and pick us up. That made them happier, but they were still uneasy and nervous. A more superstitious lot than sailors could hardly be found, except for priests and crossroads Bible Thumpers, who were just as superstitious, but had a much greater sense of their own moral superiority. And they didn’t mind telling you all about it.
In my men’s defense, a six-and-a-half-foot hulking monster was pretty daunting. It would have helped if anyone knew exactly what Banshira was. Some—mostly the priests and Bible Thumpers—said he was a descendant of Cain. Or, alternatively, of fallen angels doomed to wander the face of the earth and never find a home. Others claimed he was one of a race of giants that survived the great flood. It sounded like a lot of silly nonsense to me, but I didn’t have a better idea, so I was reserving full judgment. Personally, I was willing to leave him strictly alone if he returned the favor.
By the time we got to shore, clouds were rolling in and the weather had begun to turn really foul. I took off my jacket to give to Brandon, who shook his head at me and tried not to take it. I wrapped it around him anyway with a little growl and took his arm as we waded ashore. He hated it, trying as usual to show me how independent he was, and how strong. But I didn’t want him falling and getting drenched with the wind picking up the way it was. Damn it, I’d thought the storms were over, but I didn’t like the looks of the bruised looking clouds rolling around overhead.
Brandon suddenly pulled back on my hand as we made it to dry land, and I glanced up to see him staring at someone on shore. Following his gaze, I spotted Grimora, standing in the shadows of a tall, broad oak just inside the tree line. The wind was whipping his mop of peculiarly colored hair and plastering his long robe to his legs. I raised my hand in greeting to him, noting the addition of a beard since I’d seen him last. Unlike his bright hair, the beard was ashen gray, which gave him an odd, two-toned look.
I lifted a hand in greeting to Grimora and firmly pulled on Brandon’s arm to get him moving again. We walked up the shoreline to reach the sorcerer’s spot under the trees.
“Grimora, it’s good to see you again,” I said, bowing formally to him.
I got raised eyebrows in return, and no wonder. In the other times I’d seen the man, I’d shown him no such deference and little friendliness either. I was a bit ashamed of that now, as he’d always done what I’d asked of him, though of course, I’d paid well for his services.
He nodded at me, and I saw his gaze whip over to Brandon, who for some reason was trying to hide behind my left shoulder, as far away as he could put himself from the old man.
“Grimora, this is my captive, Brandon. I plan to ransom him for a lot of gold, but he has an injury that’s not healing. I wonder if you could take a look at him and recommend a treatment.”
He stared back at me with a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Your captive? Young Captain, why are you lying to me? You have no plans to ransom him—or even if you do get money for him, you still won’t hand him over to his family. This is the one I told you about long ago. This is your mate. The one with blood magic, matching yours.”
I felt my face flaming as he turned then to peer at Brandon. “Please come closer. I don’t bite, young man. Human flesh lost its appeal to me years ago.”
