Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

The patrons complained about one of the inns on the highway, close to the estate. They said the food was terrible and it took forever to get service for their horses. A touch of desperation entered his mental voice. Truly, that’s everything I know.

All he had offered were minuscule bits of information, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice. In a clench of despair, she turned away, just as a volcano of fury entered the room.

For a moment, she almost didn’t recognize the towering figure. While she stared, she heard everyone in the room take a collective breath as they moved away.

Only then did she realize it was Graydon who stalked toward her, his face pale and set while his Power boiled in a chaotic, hot corona around his clenched body.

She felt the blood leave her face and forgot to telepathize. “What is it?”

His white, taut lips barely moved. He said in a low voice, “He’s not here. We need to leave before I start murdering people.”

In the background, to his right, a couple of men slipped out a doorway. They were inconsequential. As soon as she saw them, she put them out of her mind. She took one of Graydon’s hands. It was bunched into a rigid fist. Even his skin was hot to the touch.

She could not imagine what had happened to fill him with such rage. As soon as she touched him, his hand loosened, and he curled his fingers around hers.

“Come on,” she whispered.

Together they strode for the front door. She noticed that the Orcs standing against the wall wouldn’t look at them any longer.

Once outside, she gratefully took deep breaths of the chill night air. Not even the whiff of stench from the street rubbish could dampen her relief at leaving the stifling smells inside Malfeasance.

Graydon strode down the street so fast, she had to trot to keep up. His anger was still palpable, and his expression so dark, she bit her lip and kept silent for several blocks, until they had left all the activity behind them and reached a quiet, dark section of street.

With immense relief, she shoved back the confining hood. A slight, cold breeze, still damp from the recent rain, brushed against her overheated cheeks.

“I’m going to burn that place to the ground.” His whisper was so forceful, it came out as a hiss. “I didn’t do it because you were there. I know how much you need to find your son, but I’m going back to level that building.”

“Dear gods,” she said. She stopped walking, which meant he had to let go of her hand, drag her along behind him, or stop walking too.

He stopped. As she gently tugged, he spun around to face her. He had clenched her fingers so tightly, they had gone numb, but she didn’t protest. Overhead, the cloud cover had broken, and a pale spray of stars arced across the clear night, silhouetting his tawny head.

Even though his rough features were in shadow, she still tried to search his expression as she asked, “What happened?”

He blew out a forceful breath and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. Then he rubbed his face as well. Through her palm, she could sense when the furious rigidity in his body eased.

“No,” he said. “I won’t saddle you with that information. I’m handling it.”

She rejected that, categorically. “How on earth could you be handling whatever is back there, when we just walked out? I should know what the cost of rescuing my son is. He should know what his actions cost.”

“That’s not fair or accurate.” He stepped closer. The heat from his body warmed her. “Ferion has nothing to do with this. I caught no hint of his scent throughout the rest of the place. It’s likely he has no idea what happens beyond the gaming rooms.”

Again, her imagination ran riot. She had seen the gambling for herself. What was left?

Drugs and sex. She thought of how several of the men had considered her figure. Even when there was virtually nothing for them to see, other than the fact that she was feminine, they had assessed the possibilities in what lay hidden underneath the cloak. How a few had contemplated rape.

A sudden wash of emotion brought tears to her eyes. She pointed back in the direction of Malfeasance. “Whatever is back there—you would stop it right now if it wasn’t for him, wouldn’t you?”

No, she thought. If it wasn’t for me.

This has nothing to do with Ferion. Graydon checked his behavior for me.

Slowly, his grip on her fingers loosened. He raised both hands to cup her jaw. His hands were so big, she felt completely nestled within the warmth of his hold.

“Beluviel, listen to me,” he said. His voice had gentled. “Normally I do a much better job with my temper. I shouldn’t have lost control like that, or said anything that I did.”

She gripped his thick, strong wrists. “Don’t apologize. Just explain.”