He dropped me onto the shore, hovered over me long enough to watch me heave up a chest full of lake, and then stormed a few feet away. “Why does nothing work right with you?”
He was mad? He’d almost killed me.
Okay, he hadn’t known he was going to almost kill me, so I’d cut him a little slack. Plus, I did punch him in the mouth. How had I done that? It hadn’t been nice, but damn, it had been cool.
I would’ve shared some of this, but I was leaning on my side, hacking up more of the lake. He walked over and thumped my back several times, slightly harder than I thought was necessary. He definitely did it just to hit me. I was positive. It was another thing I might’ve shared, but again, it was a little hard to communicate at the moment.
I flopped onto my back, most of the water gone, and glared at him.
He glared back, seeming angrier than I was.
“Don’t you look at me like that. You almost killed me. I’m the one who gets to be mad.” I might have had more accusations, but my lungs weren’t ready for a full tirade.
“I wouldn’t have dumped you in the lake if you hadn’t punched me.”
“So? You shove me all the time.”
“A little shove to help you get your ass in gear is different than punching someone in the mouth.” He crossed his arms, staring at me. “What the hell is coming out of your shirt?”
“Nothing.”
“For fuck’s sake, can you be straight with me for once?” He walked over and picked up a soggy remnant. “You’re hoarding biscuits underneath your clothing?”
My eyes gave it away, and he looked down at his own shirt, now covered in soggy dough.
I couldn’t help laughing as he looked down.
“What the hell? I’m covered in wet biscuits.”
Ryker pulled the shirt off and my laughter died. I’d never had sex, but I’d seen plenty of flesh over the years. The slim builds of the men I’d seen, though, looked nothing like this. But where was the mark of the blood?
He turned to walk to the water’s edge, trying to rinse the soggy dough from his shirt, and I caught my breath, sitting up to take a better look.
I’d only seen markings that substantial on myself, and now I got the awe of it. They were different than mine, but just as striking, like bands of black metal coiling and twining underneath his skin. They took up the entirety of his back and were crisp and clear, intricate vines of a sort that shimmered in the sun. I’d felt his power, but this was proof.
He turned, and I dropped my eyes quickly.
I hadn’t seen my back in such a long time. What did I look like? Had mine grown as large as his?
“They get larger with age but stop expanding once you’ve peaked.”
Was he one of those Wyrd Blood who could read minds? No. He was probably used to this reaction.
Silence fell between us. I didn’t know if we were fighting or not. I’d made my point and he’d countered with his. Now what? Was it my turn again? If it was, I needed some more time to figure out what I was going to do next. I wasn’t sure if I could top punching him in the mouth.
He lifted his chin to me in a you okay? gesture.
I nodded. Maybe we were done fighting? I hoped so. I was exhausted. I waved a finger toward his mouth.
He shrugged in a general I’m fine way.
He shook out his shirt and put it back on. He was getting ready to go back. Was he going to drag me with him? Or try? I pulled myself to my feet, ready to fight if I had to.
“We’ll practice at the normal spot tomorrow.”
Had Ryker just offered me a truce? Maybe he could be reasonable. Or maybe he didn’t know what else to do with me. I couldn’t swim, so the lake wasn’t an option. He couldn’t kill me, and a beating was tough when he needed me mobile.
Either way, I’d be stupid not to take the olive branch.
I nodded. That was as enthusiastic as I could get about beating the hell out of myself.
“You know you’re way back?”
I nodded—again.
He tilted his head toward me slightly and said, “It was good work, though.” A hint of a smile lit his lips and then he walked away.
Good work? What was he talking about? I’d refused to do anything and then stomped over and punched him in the face.
Holy magic. He hadn’t dropped the ward. I’d broken it. I’d walked right through it.
Chapter 21
There was a knock at my door before it inched open slowly and Burn stood there. I lifted my head from the pelt, my eyes burning and my head pounding.
“Ryker’s looking for you.”
Shit. Late again.
I nodded, pushing up and wondering why it was so frigid in my room. Burn lingered as I got up and watched as I bent over, my body racked with a cough.
“You okay?” he asked from somewhere a little closer.
“I’m fine. Just a cough.” I straightened, feeling like I might’ve gotten the worst sleep in my life. I waved him off as he continued to shuffle closer. “Really, I’m good.”
He left, slowly, but he left.
It took me fifteen minutes to make my way to the place we practiced, or had been practicing before the spectacle of yesterday, stopping along the way to cough up a lung. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was in good shape, but the healer had gotten me a six-month extension. I wasn’t dying. This was just your run-of-the-mill sickness. I’d be okay. Just had to clear out my lungs, was all.
Ryker stood with his arms crossed as he waited for me in the field. He looked more resigned than angry. I realized he might’ve tossed me in the lake yesterday, but I’d come out the victor. I was breaking him down, slowly but surely, like I had everyone else in my life.
“Did you have a nice sleep?” he asked. The edge in his voice was along the lines of a well-used blade, instead of razor sharp.
“Yes, actually, I—” Hacking interrupted my words, and it took a second before I got out “did.”
By the time I looked back at him, his eyes were narrowed on me. “What was that?”
“Coughing? I’ve heard it’s a pretty common occurrence.” I waved my hand toward where he stood. When he didn’t move, I added a little more vigor to my actions. “What are you? My nursemaid? Let’s get this going.”
He didn’t move, and I forced myself to stand up straight and tried to put on a healthy, strong appearance. He was eyeballing me, but he chanted, and another day of banging into invisible walls was about to commence—until he eventually figured out I couldn’t do this.
I coughed again but tried to hold it back. I wasn’t weak and didn’t want him to think I was. I could give as good as I got and wouldn’t have anyone, especially him, thinking otherwise.
I banged into the ward, bouncing off it as I’d done a hundred times before. I bounced again. His brows dropped closer to his eyes, skepticism shining through. I rammed harder. I wasn’t weak.
When I went to ram again, I pushed right into his arms. He’d dropped the ward.
One of his arms wrapped around my back and the other went to my forehead. Both of my palms flat on his chest, I pushed off him, but he didn’t ease up the pressure of his arm. He dropped the hand from my face and let me go. “You’re sick.” He said it as if my warm skin was a personal insult.
“I’m not sick.” And why was it that he seemed to get mad every time something happened to me?
I took a couple more steps back, making sure there was plenty of space in case he got any other crazy ideas.
“Go rest. You’re useless today.”
“I’m fine—”
“I’m not arguing with you. I’ve got more productive things I could be doing.”
I was going to argue, but a cough hijacked it. Ryker was walking off before I could get my breath back to fight.
Whatever. He didn’t want to practice, there were plenty more productive things I could go do too. I headed back toward my room, thinking he was long gone, only to notice he’d stopped and waited for me a few feet down the path.
“I can walk back on my own.”
He waited, pretending I hadn’t spoken.
I was curled up on my pelt when Ruck woke me with a plate of food. He sat down beside me, putting the plate down by my head and a candle a little farther away. “Heard you weren’t feeling so good?”
“I’m fine. Just a cough. Who told you I was sick?” I wrapped the pelt tighter.