Kinked (Elder Races, #6)

“Her ETA is seven or eight minutes,” she said. She threw Quentin’s armor at him, dropped the weapons at his feet and joined Aralorn and Linwe as they worked feverishly on buckling Caerreth into his armor. As soon as the last piece was in place, she slapped him on the back and stood back. She ordered, “Go.”


Clutching their weapons, healing potion and food, all three of the Elves stared at her and Quentin as they danced backward several steps. Each one’s expression was conflicted, with things left unsaid and warring impulses. Furiously Aryal stabbed in the direction of the road with a forefinger. “Go!”

They bolted. Within moments they were out of sight.

She glanced at Quentin. He had almost finished buckling on his own armor.

She turned and made her way back through the armory and the bunkhouse to look out the doorway. Quentin followed. The sailboat had almost reached one of the piers. The witch was almost here.

Aryal had done a good job. She’d thought logically and put the others first, but in that moment, ladies and gentlemen, all sanity left the building.





EIGHTEEN


Her talons came out, and she started forward. She had someplace to be and someone to kill, and she was never late for a commitment.

Quentin grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “What are you doing?”

“Let go!” She knocked his hand away. “I have to kill her.”

Faster than thought, he grabbed her again and shoved her back against the open door. She took a swipe at him, which he dodged. Then he slammed into her, pinning her with his body. “Stop it! You can’t go after her right now.”

She didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice. “She grounded me. She maimed me. Maybe I’ll fly again, but MAYBE I WON’T.”

She tried to shove him away, but he had braced himself with one foot back, and he pushed against her hard, elbows planted on the door on either side of her face. It left his sides wide open. If he wasn’t wearing the armor—if he were the enemy—she could have sliced into his abdomen and gutted him before he had a chance to take another breath.

Except that they had gone beyond committing such destructive acts against each other, gone far beyond it into territory that was unrecognizable to her.

She fisted her hands and pounded at him. It didn’t do a thing to shift his position or change the determined expression that hardened his face. “Goddammit, listen to me,” he growled. “We will go after her, Aryal. I promise you, we will, but we can’t right now. If she finds out that we escaped, she may send some of her pack to hunt the others. They might be able to hold off one shadow wolf in order to cross back over to Earth, but they can’t handle several at once. We have to give them as much time as we can.”

She stopped struggling as his words sank in. He looked into her eyes, and whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, because he eased up from pushing against her.

“And here are some hard truths, sunshine,” he said, speaking rapidly. “ We—you and me—are not ready to confront her. We’re partially healed and not fully rested, and there’s only two of us. On the other side of the equation, she’s not only one of the most dangerous magic users in the world that Dragos knows of, but she also has her pack. We’re going to get her, but we have to be in control of how it happens and when, and we have to be at the top of our game. Do you hear me? Right now we have got to get back to the cell block.”

Breathing hard, she managed to nod. He gave her a not-quite smile, pulled back, and as she stepped away from the door, he shut it. Then they raced through the barracks, out the door that wasn’t visible from the pier, and back through the lower levels of the palace to the cell block. Once they were inside, Quentin picked the lock shut again, and they both leaned back against the wall as they looked at each other.

“She might have had a change of heart,” she said. “She might have come back to bring food.”

“I really fucking hope so,” said Quentin with a hard smile. “But I doubt it. She’s already responsible for one death that we know of, and you outed her. We don’t know what she’s doing, or what she’s looking for. She might have just come back to follow a lead.”

She said harshly, “Maybe she found what she’s looking for, and she’s leaving Numenlaur.”

He thought about that. “Even if she did, I doubt she can travel as quickly as those three scared Elves can. The others will still make it out first, as long as her pack doesn’t go hunting for them.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. Her talons had disappeared when he talked her down, and he rubbed the tip of one of her fingers with the ball of his thumb. “And if she leaves Numenlaur, we’ll go after her. We’re going to get her, Aryal. I swear it.”

The tension in her body eased as she soaked in his conviction. She believed him, and it helped to calm the pain that raged inside. She laced her fingers through his.

“Thank you.”