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  Their bodies rocked together, thrusting and convulsing, and then suddenly there was an almighty crack and groan and with a jolt, they both fell several inches, to be jerked to a halt so quickly it made her eyes water.

  “What the—?”

  She peered up into the darkness. “I think we fucked it loose.”

  Bael grinned at her, tugging with his left arm. “Oh sweetheart, we haven’t even gotten started with the fuck— Fuck!”

  His tugging yanked free whatever had pulled them up short, and then there was nothing holding them—and they plummeted through the air.

  Kett had been in caves that were several hundred feet from floor to ceiling. Caves that had lakes at the bottom. Not poncy little streams or puddles, but great big fathoms-deep lakes.

  Thankfully, this wasn’t one of them.

  They probably fell three or four feet in total. No more than five, for sure, which was just as well. It had only occurred to her in that endless second of weightlessness that she hadn’t considered how far down they’d have to go.

  She’d never been very good at forward planning.

  The ground was cold stone, uneven but not jagged or gravelly. Not that it made much of a difference to the pain factor of landing. If she survived this she’d be black and blue.

  But she’d been black and blue before, and she’d survived it.

  She hoped to hell Bael was a survivor too, especially since he’d landed on top of her.

  Kett stilled, trying to see if he was breathing. Then she gave up and kicked him. “Get off me, you great lubbock!”

  He nuzzled her neck. “But you’re so comfy.”

  “And you’re so heavy.” She wiggled her right arm, which protested the movement, and managed to work her wrist out of the now-loose chain binding it to Bael’s. Result. There was a cut on her wrist, enough to bleed but not enough to kill her. A ritual cut, Kett thought with her hindbrain, but the rest of her took little notice.

  Swinging her hand down to tug at the chain around their waists was absolute agony since her shoulder didn’t seem to want to move at all, but she managed it, and tugged at the length binding them.

  “Lower,” Bael murmured.

  “I’m trying to get us untied here,” she said.

  “Maybe we can fuck that loose too.”

  “I prefer to have a little more freedom in my fucking, thank you,” she said, and he grinned in the darkness and brought his own arm down to help her.

  “Shit, that hurts!”

  “Yep,” she said. “Least means it’s not dislocated.”

  “Bloody feels like it,” he grumbled, but between them they got the chain off, both arms free, and he rolled them over so she was on top of him.

  She sat up, his hard belly between her thighs, and he ran his hands over her hips.

  “Much better,” he said.

  “Told you.” His hand slipped between her legs and she gasped. “Freedom is a good thing.”

  What she should have been doing was getting to her feet and finding a way out. There was every possibility he was the bad guy in this situation. But he was fondling her clit with clever, clever fingers, and she didn’t feel terrifically inclined to stop him. It had been quite a while since anybody had their hand between her legs, and it felt damn good.

  Bael slipped his other hand behind her back and pulled her down to kiss him. His lips were dry, his jaw rough with stubble, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t reckon her lips were going to be in a perfectly soft, moisturized state either, especially since they never had been before. It didn’t stop Bael from investigating, thoroughly, every corner of her mouth with his hot, quick tongue. His arms around her, he rolled them to their sides, and then she got dizzy from all the kissing—or possibly the blood loss—and fell to her back.

  And then she stiffened and leapt to her feet, sending Bael flying.

  “Ow?” he said pointedly.

  She shoved him out of the way with her foot, lust evaporating. She’d rolled onto something sticky, something crumbling…something warm. Something that wasn’t plain rock.

  She hunkered down to look.

  “Ugh,” Bael said from behind her.

  “I hear you,” she said, peering through the dimness at the charred, blackened thing on the floor. If she used her imagination—and she instantly wished she hadn’t—she suspected it had once been human.

  “I think this might have been a person,” she said, breathing hard, trying to keep the meager contents of her stomach in their rightful place. You’ve seen more disgusting things, Kett. Don’t throw up now.

  “I think this might too,” Bael said. He moved, and there was a crunching sound. “And, uh, this…”

  Kett peered farther into the gloom. More shapes oozed and fluttered, some of them incinerated and some of them still almost recognizable as bits of people.

  “They were…” She swallowed down the bile in her throat. “They were burned.”

  “They were incinerated.”

  “Uh-huh. How…er, how many, do you think?” She shook herself. She’d seen bodies before. She’d even seen burned bodies. There was no need to be so squeamish.

  “I couldn’t begin to imagine.” A warm touch on her elbow made her flinch, but it was just Bael. “You okay?”

  “Five by five,” she said, and looked at him. “We need to get out of here.”

  He nodded and took her arm, and they picked their way carefully over the remains to the light source at one end of the cave. It turned out to be the night sky, stars and moon shining high up. There was a small clearing outside the cave, and a path leading downward. The rest was trees, sloping away into darkness. A mountain. Impossible to tell how big.

  By the scant light, Kett could see symbols scorched into the walls of the cave. They didn’t resemble any language she knew, but they made her shudder nonetheless.

  They stood for a second, breathing in the clean air.

  And then there was a sound from behind them, inside the cave, a shuffling sort of sound, which was probably made by a small animal or a stray munta but which to her ears was certainly one of their captors, not quite incinerated and definitely coming after them.

  Kett shared a split-second glance with Bael, and then they were running, straight into the trees, leaping over logs and ducking under branches, hauling each other upright when they tripped, whipped and scratched by the trees and the rocks, until the ground was flat and the woods so dense they couldn’t see the sky anymore. She tripped, her right thigh throbbing, the muscles on fire after such hard use with no warm-up, and it finally just refused to work anymore.

  She collapsed on the cold, damp ground and, as she went over, Bael fell with her, rolling to take the fall, and then she was sprawled on top of him, naked and panting, adrenaline pumping through her.

  His hands touched her back, the scars there, and she recoiled for a second because no lover had ever seen those scars before, but then his fingers skimmed over her buttocks and she caught her breath because it felt good.

  He felt really good. Kett lifted her head and his dark green eyes met hers, and then his mouth met hers too, and she grabbed his head by the hair and kissed him, hard, relieved and grateful they were both still alive. Kissing him made the fear and the bruises and the confusion fade away, so she kissed him harder. He tasted good, even better than before, and when he shifted beneath her and she felt his cock growing between them, hard and hot, she rubbed against it.

  Bael tore away from her mouth to groan and she nipped his throat with her teeth. His hand slipped between her buttocks and delved lower, finding her pussy lips swollen and wet. Her face buried against his neck, Kett moaned and rubbed her breasts against his chest. His body was hot, damp with sweat, heaving, delicious.

  She sat up, slid forward and sank down on his cock. His head back, Bael gasped, and then his hands were clutching at her hips, urging her on. She moved, faster and faster as the heat built inside her, this stranger filling her up, her skin prickling, her blood rushing. H
e pulled her down and kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth until she came in a sudden, bucking orgasm, crying out, her back arching.

  Moments later his cock jerked inside her and he came too, and she fell against him, exhausted, shaking, his hands stroking her back, his arms holding her. Within seconds she was asleep.

  Chapter Two

  Morning sunlight stabbed Bael’s eyes but he didn’t open them. He felt like hell, his back and his arms aching even before he moved them. Which he did, just to confirm it, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Pain shot down his left arm, his wrist, his shoulder, straight to his spine. His feet were killing him too.

  But the movement brought something much more interesting than pain. Warm skin, not his. Someone lying in his arms. A woman.

  Well, this was always interesting. Bael grinned and cracked an eye open as he tried to remember who she was and what he’d been doing to end up with her.

  Long, snaky dark hair spilled across his chest. Her eyes were closed and there was a small, pale scar on her cheek. Oh yes, he remembered her now. Remembered waking up with her tight, muscular body pressed against his as they dangled from the roof of that cave. Remembered the flash in her weird silver eyes as she rode him into the ground last night.

  His cock stirred. Hell, she’d been fun.

  She looked a lot less fierce, lying there still and quiet. Awake, she’d vibrated with angry energy, but now she looked more peaceful, younger even, despite the slight frown on her forehead.

  He ran his hand down her back and paused at the scar tissue there. He’d discovered the whip marks crisscrossing her spine last night. But, what with her mouth on his and her breasts rubbing against his chest, he’d had other things to think about.

  Now he was intrigued. The marks were old, healed, but he could feel the intensity of the lashes, the jumble of scar tissue that said she’d been flogged again and again.

  What had happened to result in those scars?

  She stirred, her skin sliding very pleasantly against his, and mumbled something in her sleep. He stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in the thick, unruly curls. His fingers found the warm skin at the nape of her neck and stroked.

  Her eyes fluttered and she smacked her lips, stretching out her arm across his chest.

  Then she froze, and her eyes slammed open, already flashing with silver fire.

  “That’s very impressive,” Bael said, still playing with her hair. “How’d you get them to do that?”

  “What?”

  “Your eyes. They’re all sort of…sparkly.” He stole a quick kiss. “Very sexy.”

  She blinked at him. Then she levered herself upright, sitting on his stomach, and stared at him.

  “Mmm.” He placed his hands on her hips. “Even sexier.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but Bael pulled her down and kissed her. Gods, she was fantastic, all tightly coiled power and fierce energy. He ran his tongue over her teeth and sucked her lip into his mouth, making her moan. Happily he rolled her onto her back, all the better to lick and bite her all over, but he’d only gotten as far as nipping at her throat when a tiny sound made them both freeze.

  Bael looked up and saw an arrow. A bow. They pretty much occupied his attention until Kett said, “Why is that kelf aiming an arrow at us?”

  Bael refocused. Behind the bow and arrow was a small green figure, three fingers on each hand, skin hairless, eyes huge. It stood immobile, impassive. Inhuman. Bael’s lip curled. He bloody hated kelfs, and this was precisely why.

  “Look, I don’t interrupt you guys when you do…whatever it is you do in bed,” he said, rolling Kett away and getting to his feet.

  The kelf said something in its own language, which irritated the hell out of Bael. It knew he couldn’t understand it. Kelfs never taught their language to anyone.

  “You don’t—” Kett began, stepping toward the creature, and it turned its bow on her.

  “Oh no you bloody don’t,” Bael said, lunging for the little green bugger, but it was too fast for him. There was a sudden zip and whine, and then a furious pain in his left arm.

  Bael stared at the arrow sticking out of it and whirled on the kelf, murder in his eyes. “Hey! What the fuck was that for?”

  “You are trespassing,” said a sweet, feminine voice in accented Anglish.

  Before the voice had even died away, Kett had whirled to face it, her hands curled into fists, muscles tight, body low in a defensive crouch.

  Bael stared at the dozen or so kelfs that had emerged from the trees, each holding a bow trained on him. Maybe they could smell the blood. Little bastards.

  “This is their land,” said the woman’s voice, and he tore his eyes to her. “They graciously allow me to hunt with them, but they don’t like trespassers.”

  She wore bright silken robes and perched elegantly sidesaddle on a handsome white horse. A crossbow rested on her lap. She was tiny, with long, glossy dark hair and tilted eyes, and she was smiling. Bael figured that was probably because the armed kelfs were on her side. Oh, and the fact that both he and Kett were totally bollock naked. Literally, in his case.

  Kett scowled up at the woman. “Miho?”

  The tiny woman smiled wider. “Kett. I didn’t know you were in the country.”

  “Well, funny thing.” She relaxed a little, stood up straight. “Neither did I.”

  “You know her?” Bael looked between the two women, his tall, scarred warrior and the tiny, delicate creature on the horse. His arm throbbed, blood oozing from the wound.

  “Yes. Miho and I…go way back.”

  “Well, that’s great.” Bael waggled the arrow in his arm. “Reckon she could lend us some clothes? Get some food? Dunno about you, but I’m starving.” He glanced at the kelfs surrounding them, bows still drawn. Bloody kelfs. No smiles. They wound him up beyond belief. “Maybe we could eat one of them.”

  Kett didn’t smile.

  “Apologies for your injury,” said Miho, nodding regally at Bael. “There are medical supplies at my house.”

  Bael nodded and considered grabbing the kelf’s bow to shoot back at it. Not that it would have done much good.

  Could have been this kelf who killed your mother. Could have been any of them.

  The kelf looked up at him, its pointed face impassive. So charming and helpful, so long as you’re not faced with a Nasc.

  How can humans love them so much?

  Kett poked at the arrow, ignoring his flinches.

  “Flesh wound,” she said. “You’ll live.”

  He glowered at her then at the kelf, who stared impassively back. Bloody kelfs. You could beat them, but they never bruised. You could shoot and slash at them, but they never bled. Their colorful, hairless skin was like iron.

  They bowed and scraped to every human in the five Realms, but became deaf the minute he uttered a polite request.

  Well, a request, at any rate. Bael wasn’t good at being polite.

  “Oh, piss off,” he snarled halfheartedly, and turned his attention to the arrow in his arm. It hurt like buggery but it didn’t seem to have hit anything major. “Stupid fucking kelfs,” he growled, working the arrow back and forth and eventually gritting his teeth and yanking it out.

  He made a pointed yelp of pain. Kett and Miho, who’d been quietly conversing, both glanced over. Bael pressed down on the bleeding injury, giving them a wounded look.

  “Shouldn’t’ve gone after it, should you,” Kett said, as a munta was led out from the trees. Four-legged and a little like a camel without the hump, the creature was covered in shaggy dark green fur and looked at him with huge eyes as the kelfs started unloading game carcasses from its back.

  “Oh sure,” Bael said. “This is what I get for being chivalrous?”

  “It wasn’t really going to shoot me,” Kett said patiently.

  “Yeah? They’re not as nice as people think,” Bael said, lifting his fingers from the wound on his arm and sho
wing her the blood.

  Kett just rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said, mounting the creature and holding out her hand. She had moved slightly awkwardly, limping a little, and indeed Bael could see an ugly puckered scar on her right thigh.

  But Kett never said a word or asked for help. After a moment, Bael swung up behind her. She didn’t seem remotely perturbed to be sitting there completely naked, all the girlie bits he’d been so enjoying last night on view for anyone to see.

  Her back was warm against his chest, her neat little butt smooth and round where it nestled against his groin. His groin, which was definitely enjoying the close contact. Maybe the day was looking up.

  “I’m afraid I only have one cloak,” Miho said, as a kelf handed it up—passing it to Kett, he noticed.

  “Well, that means we’ll just have to share,” Bael said, wrapping it around them both, grinning as Kett leaned right back against him. “Hard life, ain’t it?”

  “Certainly seems to be for you,” she said, shifting against his growing erection.

  * * * * *

  By the time they made it to Miho’s elegant house with its flamboyantly curved roof, Kett was in agony. Sleeping outside in the cold hadn’t done her leg any good at all, and jolting it into sudden exercise this morning had been the kiss of death. Every movement of the munta as it trotted along happily after Miho’s horse jolted fresh pain through her leg until she could hardly breathe.

  Bael, of course, had no idea she was in pain. He seemed to be enjoying the bumpy ride, rubbing his big cock against her with every sway of the munta. Kett wasn’t turned on. She might have been, had her leg not been causing her such agony, but pain had never been arousing for her. This sort of pain was threatening to kill her.

  But she didn’t let on. She never let on.

  Miho slid elegantly from her horse in the pristine stable yard. “The kelfs went on ahead and prepared a room for you,” she said. “There is food and a hot bath.” She frowned and shouted something in Xinjiangese to a kelf, who nodded and scurried away. “And medical supplies. Come. It is cold out here.” She glided away toward the door of the house.