Night Shift (Kate Daniels #6.5)

Mala cupped his face in her hands, forced him to look at her, and could barely stand the devastation in his eyes. “I told you that Vela would protect me,” she said softly. “That she would cleanse any water I need.”


“A wineskin,” he said harshly. “She cannot cleanse a fouled river.”

“She can, warrior. She did. It will be safe from the headwaters to the end.” She stroked her fingers along his bristled jaw. “Now come and bathe with me.”

Chest heaving, he shook his head. With a sigh, she rose from his arms. She hadn’t taken a step before he caught her hand, frowning up at her.

“You are not going back in?”

“Of course I am. I haven’t properly washed, and the water holds no danger now.”

Anger hardened his face. “You could not have known that when you first stepped in. It was a fool’s risk.”

“That is faith, warrior. It wouldn’t be very strong if I required proof before I believed in her power. But Vela does want us to believe in her, because she must work through us—and we would have no reason to allow it if she didn’t keep her promises. She only asks that I keep mine.” Still holding his hand, she took another step toward the water. “Perhaps you don’t trust the goddess. Trust me instead.”

Tension coiled in her chest as she waited, then constricted painfully when he let go of her fingers. Blindly she turned to the water. So he didn’t trust her. It mattered not. One day he would, because she was patient and stubborn, and never would she give him any reason to believe she might betray him. She would keep her promises, too.

But her eyes still stung, so she bathed her face in the cool water, then went under completely so that the ache in her heart could be blamed on her lungs.

Kavik was wading naked into the river when she emerged, his fierce gaze fixed on her face. “Either you are right,” he said roughly, “or I will die with you.”

Reaching for her, his fingers delved into her wet hair. But no command followed this time. No down. No now.

Instead his mouth descended upon hers. A kiss. Like sweet fire, he singed her lips with a possessive taste that slowly gentled as he lingered over her mouth, returning to it again and again. Mala clung to him, loving his strength, loving this tenderness.

When he finally lifted his head, she told him, “We will not die,” and her voice was thick. “But if we do, our corpses will smell better than they would have before we bathed.”

His grin loosened every painful ache inside her. Easily he lifted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist before moving deeper into the water. “We must not smell as bad as revenant yet. You have tasted me many times these past days.”

“Much better than revenant.” Mala lay her head on his shoulder and held him close. “But I would have you anyway, warrior.”



MALA washed his hair, and Kavik thought there could be no greater pleasure until he took the soap and lathered every stretch of her beautiful skin. Touching her was the greater pleasure. Kissing her was. He followed each spot that she rinsed with a tender press of his lips.

He should not. Kavik knew he should not let himself touch her like this. But after seeing her in the water, he knew how it might feel to lose her—and that when he pushed her away, it would tear his heart from his chest. It mattered not if he began his torture early. This was all he would have of her until the end.

She slipped her strong arms around his neck, the movement lifting her small breasts. The water lapped her erect nipples. Suddenly ravenous for a taste, Kavik bent his head.

Mala stiffened against him. “Wait.”

He looked up. She had not denied him. Instead her gaze had fixed farther down the riverbank, where Shim and the other horses had been splashing through the shallows, nipping and kicking at each other. Playing, Mala had said, and Kavik had ignored their whinnies and squeals. But now the stallion let loose a more strident neigh as he faced the west, nose in the air and snorting.

“Revenants?” Mala called.

The stallion shook his head, then with nips to their hindquarters began herding the others toward camp.

Frowning, Mala glanced up at Kavik before starting for the shore. “The demon tusker?”

Shim whinnied impatiently and shook his head again.

“Humans?”

A stamp of his hoof answered her.

“Humans,” Mala said to Kavik and swept her cloak over her shoulders before collecting her clothes from the shoreline. “Maybe bandits, maybe travelers. Do you see them?”

Fastening his belt and furs, Kavik scanned the western horizon. The rolling landscape that led down to the river was not in their favor. “Not yet.”

But it did not take long after they’d returned to the camp to recognize a squad of Barin’s soldiers, the sun glinting off their polished helms. Riding quickly, they headed directly toward the camp.

“From the bridge garrison?” Mala asked him, tightening her armor. Her dark hair hung long and wet over her shoulders.

“No.” Kavik had spotted the dogs running ahead of the soldiers. “They’ve tracked us.”

Her full lips twisted with irritation. “Sent by Barin?”