Willing Sacrifice
Page 9

“Experience. Someone has to go out and kill them.”
He meant himself. Grace could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, as if he were already planning an attack.
She didn’t want him to risk himself. Of course, she never wanted any of the women to take risks either, but it was different this time—personal in a way she couldn’t explain, even to herself. “You’re still injured. If you want to fight the Hunters, you can talk to Brenya about it tomorrow when she’s rested. Until then you need to let me do my job.”
His jaw was set with determination, and she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, he was going to push past her and do whatever he wanted.
“Please,” she said, not even caring if she sounded like she was begging. “If you let me finish my job, then when you’re feeling better, I’ll take you out to find the Hunters. I’ll show you the trail I saw and where I think they might be coming from.”
He shot to his feet again, a look of fury tightening his mouth. She expected him to yell at her, but his voice was calm enough to chill her bones. “You got close enough to see a trail?”
The urge to turn and flee pounded through her, but she breathed through it, trusting that Brenya would never have left her alone with someone who would hurt her.
“I’m not sure, but I think so. All the leaves and branches were sliced clean, as if something had cut right through them. A Hunter is the only thing I know of that could do that.” When she spoke, her voice shook a little. Not that it would have helped if she’d sounded rock steady. She was sure he could feel her frantic pulse pounding where he gripped her wrists.
“Does Brenya know what you saw?”
“Not yet. I just found the trail today and was on my way back when I heard the screams.”
“When the lizard attacked,” he guessed.
She nodded. “It’s too close to dark to go out today, and I won’t let Brenya down. You need to stay and let me do my job.”
He stared into her eyes for a long minute before he spoke. The whole time his thumbs kept stroking the skin of her inner wrists. “If it were anyone but you I’d already be out that door.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that, but she wasn’t about to question his change of heart.
He let go of her and turned. Right in the center of his bare back was a flat metallic disk just like the one embedded in her skin. In the very same spot.
Surprise and curiosity flooded her, knocking all good sense out of her head. She rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders to hold him still while she studied it.
Intricate markings covered the surface. She wasn’t sure if they were merely decorative or if the symbols meant something. As her finger glided over the warm metal, she felt a tingling sensation flicker across her spine. It was gone so fast she questioned if it had ever happened.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
He was silent for so long she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. Then, in a low voice filled with sadness, he said, “It was a gift from a woman I loved.”
A tiny spurt of jealousy flashed through her, leaving behind a greasy film of shame. She had no business feeling envy over women Torr had known. Not only that, but it was clear from his tone that the woman had caused him some kind of pain. Maybe she’d betrayed him, maybe she’d left him. Whatever the case, she’d hurt him, and here Grace was thinking only of herself.
“I have one just like it,” she said. “But I’ve never seen it up close before. It really is pretty.”
“Where did you get yours?” he asked. There was something strange about his inflection, but she couldn’t figure out what.
“I don’t know.”
“Really? Seems like the kind of thing you’d remember.”
“I don’t really remember much of anything before Brenya brought me back to life.”
“Have you tried?”
“Of course. I spent months working to regain my memory, but whatever bits are left, they’re more like echoes.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s almost like all those things were scooped out of me and all that’s left is a kind of emotional residue that couldn’t be completely removed. Sometimes I see tiny glimpses, but there’s no context. I feel things, but have no idea why.”
“Do you remember any people?”
“No, but I remember loving them, laughing with them.” Hiding from them, cowering in fear.
She didn’t want to think about that, so she turned her attention from the disk to the surrounding male flesh. Slight bruises lingered along his back, maybe where he’d fallen or been hit. Trails of dried blood and caked dirt led from the lower edge of the disk toward his singed blue pants.
She picked up the cloth and wiped away the mess, revealing puckered scars where the prongs of the disk entered his skin. She traced the marks with her fingertip, and his whole body clenched.
She gave a sympathetic wince. “Sorry. Does it hurt a lot?”
“No. Does yours?”
“Not exactly.”
He turned, putting his chest at a level with her gaze. That magnificent tree clung to his skin, tempting her to spread her fingers over the branches.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
There was a smudge of dirt along his ribs, and she used the excuse to touch him and wipe it away. He truly was a beautiful creature, and even though the damp cloth muted the feeling of his skin, she could still sense the firm resilience of the flesh below.
His scent surrounded her, and that nagging feeling of familiarity called to her again. She was certain she would have remembered a man like him. Even if she hadn’t, surely he would have told her if he’d known her. Still, there was something about him that tugged at her senses.
Then again, she’d heard some of the visitors talk about the men they’d met, how handsome or charming they were. How they’d been chosen as mates for their strength or intelligence. Maybe all men had this kind of effect on women, and she was just experiencing it firsthand.
“I feel things sometimes,” she admitted. “I’m sure they’re coming from the disk.”
“What kind of things?”
“It’s personal.” Sometimes, when she was lonely, she imagined those feelings coming from a friend—someone like her, not like everyone else here. She wasn’t beautiful like the Athanasian women and their children. She didn’t have magical powers. She was physically weak. She wasn’t even in training the way the little girls were. She wasn’t strong enough to survive their fierce mock battles.