A Soul for Vengeance

Chapter 12



The woman was an evil mastermind—no question about it.

Zara stood on top of a boulder beside a road that wound through the dense forest, giving orders like a general. “Make sure you get the area to the right. I want no signs of any footprints to alarm the Thallians.”

The men who’d come with them nodded and dragged the heavy evergreen branches through the thick blanket of snow, obscuring not only their footprints but also the thick log they’d partially buried in the middle of the road to stop the supply wagon they were planning to steal.

Correction—it wasn’t stealing, according to Zara. It was merely taking back what was rightfully theirs and redistributing it back to the people. He’d have to remember that line if he ever wanted to levy new taxes.

She leaned forward, one hand on her knee and the other on her hip, granting him an exquisite view of her shapely legs, hips, and buttocks.

Kell scrubbed his eyes and tried to wash that image from his mind. Not that he wanted to. He needed to, if only to keep his hands off of her. Their flirtatious attempts to “distract” each other a few days ago raised far too many tempting scenarios, but they all ended the same way—with Bynn ready to run him through for taking advantage of his little sister. It wasn’t worth jeopardizing his friendship, even though the memory of holding her close in his arms still aroused any uncomfortable warmth that made him forget about the eight inches of snow around his boots for a few blessed moments.

“Perfect. Now, everyone to their stations.” She hopped down from the boulder and joined him where he sat on a smaller rock behind it. “Any questions about the plan?”

“Just one—why do I have to stay next to you?”

“Because if one hair on your royal head gets harmed, I’m the one taking the blame for it.” She rubbed her gloved hands together, blowing on them to chase away the cold. “I still wonder why you wanted to come along.”

“The truth?”

“I expect nothing less from you.”

So had other women, but it didn’t necessarily mean he gave it to them. He grabbed a stick and carved random lines into the snow with it. “I got bored.”

She stopped rubbing her hands. “You decided to risk your life because you were bored?”

“Not exactly.” He threw the stick deeper into the woods. “I suppose you can say I got tired of being useless.”

“You weren’t being useless, Kell. You were recuperating from your imprisonment and learning about everything that had happened while you were gone so you could take command.”

Learning would be an understatement. He’d hungered for any scrap of information he could get about the Triumvirate, the three Thallian leaders who control Ranello. Barsaulus was the general in the group, commanding the armies of soldiers who’d swept through the kingdom like a storm. Decindra was the witch, her powers strong enough to rival any mage he’d met so far. And Ermane was a mixture of mage and general, the mastermind behind the invasion and the machines they’d used to conquer the Ranellians. Each alone was a formidable opponent. Together, they appeared on the surface to be invincible. If he wanted to defeat them, he needed to discover their weaknesses.

“Yes, but now, I want to get involved, to go out into the kingdom and see where my people are, to take part in something to help them.”

“You were, even though you don’t realize it.” She directed his face toward hers. “Do you have any idea how much the people here loved and respected you? How they held on to hope that you were still alive and would come back to free them? And now that you are home, how word of your return keeps them going through these cold, hungry winter days?”

He jerked his chin free from her fingers. “What good is a prince who hides behind walls and is too fearful to bloody up his hands in the name of freedom?”

A gasp broke free from her lips, followed by a slow smile. “I’m beginning to think you know more about this ruling business that any of us gives you credit for.”

“I know people underestimate me for a number of reasons—I’m the third son, born under questionable circumstances to my father’s second wife, who left this kingdom to chase after a witch—I’ve heard them all.” He paused, letting each of the doubts roll through him before shrugging them off. The last one, however, was the hardest. He still missed Arden, missed her smile and her passion for life, but as he swallowed past the lump in his throat caused by the memory of their affair, he accepted the peace that followed. His heart was healing, and he was grateful for the experience of knowing her.

“But they forget that my father was constantly teaching me what it meant to be a good ruler, and I’m finding his advice more precious with each passing day.” He wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, soaking up the magic forged in the metal. “It’s time I start putting their doubts to rest, starting with their worries that I’m too weak to engage in combat.”

“This isn’t true combat, Kell. Ideally, we hit them so fast they’re all dead before they can fight back.”

“If your plan works.”

She gave him a playful shove. “Of course it will work. I’ve got these raids down to an art.”

“What makes you so certain this is where the wagon will be today?”

“Because we have spies located throughout the kingdom. I know both from reports at the border and from Trivinus when this wagon entered Ranello, what it’s carrying, and where it’s going.”

He peered over his shoulder at the immaculate road. “And you know for certain it will be here today?”

“More or less.”

“I’m not freezing my nuts off for more or less, Zara.”

Parros cleared his throat from several yards up the road. “Will you please watch your language around the lady?”

The old knight’s rebuke made his cheeks burn, and he offered a mumbled apology to her. “What I meant to say is that we’re all exposed to the elements right here, and I’m curious to know how you came to the conclusion to choose this very spot for our ambush.”

“First off, we’re in a natural spot to provide cover.” She pointed to the thick fir trees and gray boulders that lined the road from Trivinus. “Secondly, I know when the wagon passed through various checkpoints, and I was able to calculate its speed to estimate it would be passing right here this afternoon.” She chewed her lip before adding, “Of course, there are always a few variables to an ideal situation.”

“Such as you might be off by a day?”

She nodded. “They could be late because of weather or illness, but I try to take that into account when I plan these attacks. However, if I’m off by a day, we’ll just wait here until they come through tomorrow.”

“And what if you’ve already missed them?”

She laughed, her cockiness returning. “Impossible. We were traveling on the same road and would’ve passed them by now.”

It sounded good enough for now, so he left the conversation drift into silence until she said softly, “You shouldn’t worry about what they say, Kell. Your actions will speak for themselves.”

“Maybe, but it’s time I start acting instead of being acted upon, especially if what Bynn was telling me about Fermo is true.”

The House of Fermo had ruled Ranello for centuries until his great-grandfather wrestled control from them. King Justello teetered on the brink of madness, and his people lived in fear that they’d be the next ones executed to satisfy his royal whim. Since his family had taken over, the kingdom had prospered, and no one questioned their right to the throne.

Well, no one except the Fermo family, who’d been reduced to a dukedom in the far southwestern corner of the kingdom. The current Duke of Fermo had constantly criticized his father, had questioned Kell’s legitimacy and spread the rumor that the first queen had been killed to make way for Kell’s mother. No doubt, he rejoiced in seeing an opportunity to regain the throne for himself when the Sanguazur family fell and he was missing. Bynn confided in him that there were rumors of Fermo meeting with the Triumvirate to restore the throne to his family.

“And for good reason,” Zara replied, her hands bunching up into fists. “Fermo wants power any way he can get it, and Bynn and I both question his loyalties. There’s a reason why he doesn’t know where our camp is.”

“That bad, eh?”

“Yes, but Bynn’s starting to weaken. He thinks that if Fermo can see you with his own two eyes, he’ll commit to the rebellion.”

“Do we need him?”

Zara nodded, her expression grim. “He’s one of the few nobles in Ranello who wasn’t slaughtered by the Thallians, and he still has a legion of trained soldiers under his command.”

“How did he manage that?”

Her fists tightened. “By surrendering to them without a fight.”

Kell’s gut mimicked her hands, twisting and knotting until the bile of anger rose into his throat. “Then he’s a traitor.”

“You’d think that, but he’s every inch the wily politician.” She released her hands, flexing her fingers. “He claims he did it to protect his people from the devastation the rest of the kingdom had already experienced. His location meant he was the last duchy they invaded, and he knew it was a futile effort to meet them on a battlefield.”

“Do you believe him?”

She pursed her lips together. “Perhaps, though not without adding that Fermo’s primary concern is for himself.”

“Better to sleep with the enemy than fall victim to his sword?”

A nervous laugh rose from her chest. “Something like that.”

She was holding back the truth from him. He was leaning forward to tease out that last bit of information she was concealing from him when the call of a whippoorwill stopped him.

Zara tensed and reached for her crossbow. She pointed to his bow and then held a finger up to her lips.

He nocked an arrow and listened. After a couple of minutes, the snorts of oxen and the creak of wooden wheels filled the silence. He smiled in spite of the situation. Zara had been right after all.

From his perch closer to the sounds, Parros flashed his open palm three times. A whispered curse fell from Zara’s lips, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Something was wrong, but he dared not ask what, not with the Thallians practically breathing down their necks.

Zara loaded her crossbow and took a deep breath, waiting just like him for the signal to attack from the scout in the trees above. She met his gaze as if to ask, “Are you ready?”

He nodded and drew his bow back.

The agreed upon signal was an owl’s hoot, similar to the one they used to open the tunnel to the camp. As soon as they heard the first low notes on the breeze, the two men controlling the log tugged on the ropes attached to either side of it, pulling it out of the ditch they’d hidden it in and wedging it against the back tires of the wagon with a low thud. Zara sprung to her feet and fired over the edge of the boulder. Kell followed her example and released his arrow, taking less than a second to take aim at the closest Thallian soldier. He ducked down beside her and reloaded. “How many are there?”

“Parros said fifteen.”

So that’s what the flashing palms meant. He peered over the boulder and fired again, this time waiting long enough to see his arrow embedded in the soldier’s back before ducking back behind the boulder.

Shouts filled the stretch of the road, followed by the scrape of unsheathed swords and cries of pain. Zara rose to fire another bolt from her crossbow and came back down with a string of curses that would make even the most hardened soldier blush. “They have a warlock with them.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Very bad.” She tugged him by the collar to a nearby bush and pointed him out. “Our weapons bounce off of him like he’s surrounded by an invisible wall.”

“Or a shield.” Something he was all too familiar with from his previous battles against mages. None of their weapons would injure him as long as the warlock kept the spell in place.

He glanced down at this sword. Well, there was one exception.

“How many soldiers are left standing?” he asked, a plan forming in his mind as he spoke.

Zara peered over the branches. “I’m counting three more, but that warlock is getting pissed off.”

As though to prove her point, an explosion rocked the ground underneath them, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. Worry creased her face, only to ease when Parros gave her an upright thumb. “Our men got away in time,” she explained.

“Good—maybe they’ll be able to keep that warlock distracted long enough.” He drew his sword and crouched behind the bush, waiting for the perfect moment to spring on the Thallians. The warlock had his back to them, busy launching spells toward the opposite tree line and cracking the mighty evergreen trunks in half. “Cover me.”

“What?”

Her sharp-pitched cry vanished as he burst through the bushes with a battle cry of his own, running straight for the warlock. The Thallian mage barely had time to turn around before Kell’s sword pierced the area under his left ribs, angled up toward the heart. He yanked the sword out and delivered another blow to the neck, slicing the head clean off.

“Get the rebel,” one of the Thallian soldiers shouted, charging Kell with this sword drawn.

Kell’s heart skipped several beats as the action around him seemed to slow down to a crawl. He raised his sword to block the blow. A burst of air whizzed by his cheek. Then the soldier slammed to a stop, a crossbow bolt in the center of his forehead.

Kell turned around and found Zara a few feet behind him, firing another shot at the soldier in front of him. She was so focused on hitting his heart that she failed to notice the soldier sneaking out from inside the covered wagon. The sunlight glittered on the razor-sharp edge of his ax as he raised it above his shoulder, his eyes fixed on her.

Kell’s feet were moving before he realized what he was doing. He rammed into her, making her bolt fly off into the sky. A grunt filled his ears. The forest blurred around him in a palette of green, white, and gray. The scent of pine needles filled his nose as they scratched across his face. He wrapped his arms around Zara to protect her from their landing, but instead of hitting the ground, they kept going, rolling down a rock-studded hill for several yards before stopping.

That first breath made his eyes water. The cold air stung the exposed skin along his upper arm, reminding him he was still alive. The sounds of battle above quieted. And when his vision finally came into focus, he saw Zara lying under him, her gray eyes dazed.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, the icy fear that he might have been too late flooding his veins.

The word no formed on her lips, but no sound came from them.

His mind screamed for him to get off the poor girl, but something more primitive overruled his rational self. As long as he stayed on top of her, he could shield her from any harm. As long as her breasts rose and fell against his chest with every breath, he knew she was still alive.

But as his fear waned, a new awareness consumed him. Her eyelids lowered so she looked up at him through her lashes like a lover beckoning him closer. Her fingers bunched up his tunic in her fists, pulling him toward her. Her hips shifted ever so slightly, resulting in a subtle friction that made him wish they were both lying this way naked in a warm bed. His gaze dropped to her full lips, coming closer and closer to them.

“You two all right down there?”

Kell bolted from her at the sound of Parros’s voice, shaking the cobwebs of desire from his brain. Sweet Lady Moon, what had he been thinking? They’d just escaped being killed in battle by a hair, and all he wanted to do was screw his best friend’s little sister. He rubbed his face, continuing to reprimand himself for letting his dick get the better of him and promising to find another woman—any woman—to help him get over his sexual drought so he could keep his head on straight around Zara.

Of course, none of the other women had those mesmerizing gray eyes surrounding by thick sooty lashes.

He got to his knees and stretched, sucking in a breath through his teeth when he popped his back. “Why is it every time I rescue a damsel in distress, I’m the one who ends up getting injured?”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, and it’s barely a scratch, you overgrown baby.” She pointed to the bloodstained tear in his tunic where his arm stung.

“If I hadn’t knocked you away, you would be wearing an ax in your skull right now.”

She scrambled to her feet, her face red. “If you hadn’t knocked me away, I could have finished off that soldier that almost ran you through.”

The gall of that woman. “So this is the thanks I get for saving your life?”

“I wouldn’t have needed to be saved if you hadn’t charged out of the bushes like a madman.” She tilted her nose up. “Besides, I still don’t think you needed to knock me all the way down the hill like this.”

“Will you quit yelling at him and thank him?” Parros growled as he sidestepped down the steep hill. “He got that scratch from the ax meant for you.”

Her jaw snapped shut, but her cheeks remained red, although perhaps for a very different reason now. “I didn’t see a soldier with an ax.”

“But I had a clear view of everything that happened from up in my tree.” Parros leaned forward on his knees, catching his breath. “Gave me such a start, I fumbled the first arrow I grabbed to fire at him.” Then he cracked a grin into his weathered face. “But the second arrow took him out.”

She looked at Parros, then at Kell, her chin tilting down as she said, “Then it seems I owe you my life.” She extended her hand to him. “Thank you.”

He took it, his back and knees cracking as he stood. Another groan rose from his throat. Damn, he was more banged up than he first realized. “Just don’t thank me with a black eye.”

Her eyes widened, and her nostrils flared. She snatched her hand back. “You are such an arrogant—”

Parros interrupted her by clearing his throat. “Remember who you’re talking too, m’lady.”

She closed her mouth, her glare speaking loud enough for now as she stomped back up the hill.

Parros held out Kell’s sword. “Don’t mind her, Your Highness. She’s just a bit upset that her plans didn’t include one of those Thallian warlocks. Thank the Lady Moon you knew how to take him out when the rest of us couldn’t.”

Kell slid his sword into its sheath. “That’s because the only way to fight magic is with magic.”

He caught a glimpse of the old knight’s pale face before he hiked up the hill, stopping a few steps behind Zara as she bent to pick up her crossbow.

“You know you shouldn’t joke about using magic with some of these men,” she said while she inspected her weapon, her voice flat. “The laws forbidding it are still considered to be in place.”

“I understand they are—at least, for now—but did you see me cast a spell?”

“No.” She watched him with suspicion now glowing from her eyes. “But I know there’s an explanation why your sword managed to wound the warlock when the rest of our weapons failed.”

“There is, and perhaps I’ll give it to you later.” Right now, he was so wound up and bent out of shape from their close encounter that it felt good to withhold some information from her for a change.

They’re getting too good at this, Zara thought as her men hid the bodies with a speed and precision that rivaled their bow skills. Once the bodies had been hidden behind the brush, two men swept the snow, covering up the bloodstains and the footprints, while the other two rolled the log back into the ditch so the wagon would be able to move forward. Then they retrieved their horses from deeper within the roads, returning ready to go. It all had taken only a few minutes, but each step had been carried out methodically without her telling them what to do.

Well, almost all of them. Kell stood back and watched, wincing as he flexed his back. He limped to the back of the wagon. “What’s inside here that we were willing to risk our lives over?”

She followed him and threw back the flap. Inside the covered wagon stood stacks of dull gray metal bricks.

Kell let out a low whistle. “Think about the arsenal we could make with this.”

“Precisely, which was why I was willing to risk my life for it.” She mounted her horse and waited for Kell to do the same. “We need to get going if we want to be under cover by nightfall.”

“Good idea.” He crawled into the back of the wagon. “Wake me up when we get there.”

She dug her fingers into her gloves. Of all the nerve! But she swallowed back the slew of insults that sat on the tip of her tongue and struggled to maintain a calm exterior. She’d already lost her composure around him more than once today. “Very well,” she said before riding up to Parros in the driver’s seat. “Make sure you hit every bump, every rock, every fallen log you can get this thing over.”

“Yes, m’lady,” he replied with a grin.

As the afternoon passed, she replayed those moments at the bottom of the hill before Parros interrupted them. Sweet Lady Moon, what had possessed her to act that way? Maybe it was the rush from battle still flowing through her veins. Maybe it was the sudden realization that she was still alive. Or maybe it was the seductive weight of Kell’s body against hers that made her pull his lips closer to hers. All she knew was that she wanted him to kiss her—badly.

Almost too badly, which was why she resorted to the only emotion she could think of to hide her embarrassment—anger. By the time the argument was in full swing, she’d forgotten all about the ache between her thighs.

And that was the way it should be. She needed to keep pushing him away—not pulling him toward her—if she knew what was good for both of them.

The sky had turned into a swirl of deep pinks and purples by the time they reached an abandoned farmhouse on the edge of the woods and stowed the wagon in the ramshackle barn next to it. While the men secured their spoils and began camouflaging it, Zara set off to find some wood for a fire.

She didn’t expect Kell to climb out of the wagon and follow her.

“I don’t need any help,” she said as she swiped a sturdy branch off the forest floor.

“I know, but you shouldn’t be out here on your own.” He picked up another branch and laid it in her arms. “I’ll come along to save you from any men wielding axes.”

She rolled her eyes and plunged deeper into the forest.

“I’m sensing there’s a little tension between us,” he said, staying within a few steps of her.

That would be an understatement. She focused on gathering enough wood for the night as quickly as possible. The longer she was alone with him, the more dangerous things got by the moment.

“By your silence, I’m going to assume you agree with my assessment.”

“Or it could just mean I’m ignoring you because this discussion is nothing more than a delusion brought on by your arrogance and not worth my time.” She swiped a low hanging branch out of her way, releasing it just in time to make sure it swatted Kell in the face.

He sputtered in annoyance for a second. Then a firm hand grabbed her by the arm, knocking the wood she’d gathered out of the way, and pulled her smack against his oh-so-tempting body. “It’s kind of hard to have a conversation with you when you keep walking away from me.”

“And it’s kind of hard to have a conversation with you when you’re—” When you have me this close to your kissable lips? When your holding me in such a way that I want to forget every shred of common sense and be completely reckless, starting with removing your clothes layer by layer until I can run my hands over your bare skin? She gulped, the lurid fantasies in her mind coming closer and closer to being reality.

“When I’m what?” he asked, his voice low and intoxicating, his face inching toward hers.

Somehow, she managed to break free of the seductive spell he’d cast on her. “When you’re holding my arm hard enough to leave bruises,” she lied.

“Oh, you think I’m being too rough?” He released her arm, but not her. He ensnared her in an embrace that made her head swim and her blood burn. “Is this better?”

She squirmed against him, all too aware of the way her hips pressed against one particular ever-hardening ridge of his body. “Not particularly.”

“Then explain to me what happened today in the forest between the two of us.” He dropped back into that whiskey-smooth voice of his. “Or do we need to recreate the situation to help refresh your memory?”

Sweet Lady Moon, if he did that, she might not be so lucky to have Parros pull her from the brink of insanity this time. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You’re shaking.”

I am? She concentrated on stilling the trembling in her hands, her chin, her very core. “Do I need to remind you what happened last time you tried to take liberties with me?”

That was all it took to make him release her. He backed away, his hazel eyes clouded with confusion. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Perhaps you should get used to disappointment.” Her legs wobbled like saplings caught in the fury of a storm, but somehow, she managed to add some more space between them without falling down. “Just because you’ve had your fair share of women eager to jump between the sheets with you doesn’t mean that every woman feels that way.”

A shadow of melancholy flickered across his face. “So I’ve been learning.”

Something behind his pained words both tugged at her curiosity and made her want to comfort him like she had that night a month ago. It spoke of loss, of heartache, and was so very different from the confident rogue he seemed to be seconds before. “What happened with her?”

“With whom?”

“Your yellow-haired witch? The one you chased after to Gravaria?”

His jaw tightened, and the knob in his throat rose and fell with the slowness of someone painfully swallowing. “Her heart belonged to someone else, and I was foolish enough to think I could sway her from him.”

The anguish of his confession bled into her conscience and made her wish she’d never asked him about a subject that was obviously still a fresh wound to his heart. She reached forward, hoping she could soothe his pain with the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek, all the while knowing it would fall short. “No, she was the fool to turn down a man like you.”

He covered her hand with his own, the light returning to his eyes. A weak smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, Zara.”

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, their gazes locked in a form of intimacy reserved only for lovers. And then the situation turned awkward again, crawling up her spine like a dozen spiders. She dropped both her hands and her eyes before she revealed any more of her conflicted feelings about her future king. “We’d better get back before Parros gets worried.”

“Agreed.” He retrieved the sticks that had fallen from her arms and added a few more for good measure. As they began their way back to the abandoned farmhouse, he said, “May I ask you one more question?”

She raised her armor, preparing for a deeply personal question she feared he’d ask. “You may, but I may not answer it.”

“If I kissed you again, would you react the same way?”

His teasing question ambushed her and left her flustered, unable to form a coherent response for a few seconds. Would she give him another black eye? Would she surrender to him like some wanton woman? Or would it be something in between, something light and fragile that would blossom into something even greater? Maybe she could finally help him forget about that yellow-haired witch and satisfy her own curiosity in the process.

But when her tongue was finally able to move, she replied in the same lighthearted tone, “There’s only one way to find out.”

Only this time, she looked forward to him trying.