Son of a bitch. He hadnt gone anywhere, after all. He was still in the wolfyn realm. Son of a sucking
A soft moan cut him off. A soft, very feminine moan.
His heart started to thud in his chest as he turned toward the sound, telling himself not to hope, but hoping nonetheless.
And there she was. After all this time, there she was.
She lay curled on the grass with her cheek pillowed on her hands, but he recognized the oval of her face, the stubborn dent in her chin and the strong yet subtly curved lines of her body. More, he knew without seeing it in the light of day that her wavy hair was red-shot, her eyes a clear blue, like the deepest part of the Elden sky after a rainstorm. Not that it mattered whether or not she was beautifulshe was his guide, and he had his priorities well in mind.
Her clothes said she was human, which surprised him. Of the three known realms, the human realm was the most technologically advanced and used the least magic, which put them the farthest away from the pure magic of the kingdoms. Given that, how was she supposed to guide him?
Have faith, he told himself. His father had promised a guide, and here she was.
Which also meant that the four-night countdown had begun, and they needed to get moving. But there was a problem with that: she was out cold, and the ScratchEye pack was gathering for their run, which would include an hour-long serenade at the stones. Although the wolfyn were largely civilized on a day-to-day basisin their home realm, at leastthe blood moon unleashed the other aspects of their personalities. And while Keely probably wouldnt have a problem seeing him with another woman during the blood moon, others wouldnt be so forgiving.
Making a snap decision, though he would have rather stayed and called a new vortex right away, Dayn gathered the woman in his arms. She was lighter-boned and smaller than Keely, and seemed to fit naturally against him as he carried her from the circle, with her head tucked against his neck and her curly hair brushing his cheek.
Inside his cabin, he put her gently on the couch near the hearth, where the remains of the fire were still warm. Then he shucked out of his too-hot jacket and knelt beside her, part of him still unable to believe that he had dreamed of her, and here she was. His eyes lingered on the fullness of her lips, and the faint blush of color on her cheeks. He reached for her, intending to try again to wake her, but instead he found himself easing a few fallen strands of her hair away from where they had caught on her eyelashes. Her skin was soft and warm, and although he told himself he shouldnt be touching her, not like this, he couldnt make himself pull away.
She stirred beneath his touch, and let out a soft sigh. He caught his breath, then held it as her eyes opened and locked on his. The entire universe telescoped down to those blue, blue eyes and her look of shockand then recognition.
THE WOODSMAN SMILED down at her. Thank the gods youre finally here.
Reda stared mutely up at him as her head spun and the world tilted a few degrees away from normal.
It was the same dream shed been having all week, where she would wake in a log cabin to find this man crouched over her while a fire hiss-popped nearby. He looked like she had dreamed him: rumpled dark hair fell forward over his brow and curled below his ears, accenting his sharply defined features and emerald-green eyes. He had a rawboned yet powerful body, wide-shouldered and long-limbed, with lean, loose muscles that folded economically where he knelt beside her. His skin was smooth and bronze, with a light dusting of masculine hair visible where the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. And, as in her dreams, the air smelled of wood, smoke and cinnamon. Fluid warmth coursed through her body, concentrating at the point where his fingers rested softly on her cheek.
But as the spins settled, nerves took their placebecause the overall picture was right, but the details were wrong.
The cabin was made of rough-hewn logs, yes, but she was lying on a plush sofa rather than a cot, and on a nearby end table, a mosaic lamp gave off muted amber light. And the man was wearing clothes straight out of the L.L. Bean catalog rather than homespun. More, even the details of the details were off. The couch she was lying on had the soft nap of velvet, but the fabric moved oddly, as did the stuffing beneath. And the lamp didnt have a cord.
What the hell?
Im going to kill MacEvoy. The idiot mustve juiced the shops incense burner with something really funky and hallucinogenic.
Like, say, acid.
Who is MacEvoy? The woodsmans voice was a smooth baritone with a raspy undertone that seemed to stroke her skin. But the question put another dose of nerves into the mix, as did the look in his eyes as he rocked back on his heels and stared down at her with a wary, confused air.
Hed never spoken before, never looked baffled before.
They were way off the script, and she didnt like it.
Hes It doesnt matter. She pushed herself upright on the couch, waving him off when he made a move to help. Im good. Im fine. Only she wasnt fine. This was all wrong, because whatever the hell was going on, the dreamhallucination?seemed way too real.
Fine enough to get moving?
Moving?
He nodded. We have four nights counting tonight, so we should get started as soon as possible.
Reda breathed deeply and told herself not to panic. There was some logical explanation for this. There had to be. Im not having sex with you. And oh, holy crap, she didnt know why that had been the first thing out of her mouth. Or, rather, she did: it was because of the dreams.
His eyebrows rose. Of course not. Youre my guide.
She flushed, but pushed on. Seriously. I dont have a clue what youre talking about. And she also didnt know why she was arguing with a figment of her over-stressed mind.
Dont even joke about that.
Whos joking? She wasnt kidding around; she was confused as all hell. Wait. Am I being punked? Who would bother?
Expression suddenly clearing, he said, Damnation. Vortex sickness.
Vor-what?
He rose and started to pace. Sometimes when travelers come through the vortices from one realm to another, they become confused or even forget pieces of their past.
A low burn fisted beneath her heart. Im not crazy.
I didnt say you were, he said, which she guessed was true as far as it went. But then he continued, Memory loss and insanity arent the same thing. I believe you call it apples and limes, yes?
Oranges. Apples and oranges. His speech pattern was an odd mix of formality and slang, which just added to the weirdness. Who are you?
He stopped pacing and looked slightly shamefaced. Sorry. Im Dayn. Well, Prince Dayn, Forestal of Elden. But if anyone here knew that, theyd rip me to shreds. He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a moment to register. As her jaw dropped, he held out a hand. So lets just go with Dayn, okay?
Im Reda. Head spinning, she took his hand on autopilot, registering the warm strength of his wide palm and long, elegant fingers. But instead of shaking, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. It was an unselfconscious move, as if hed done it a thousand times before and it meant nothing more than a fist bump on the T platform or a cuff on the arm between buddies at Downtown Pizza. But her gasp brought his eyes to hers and made it far more than casual, as did the sizzle that tightened her skin and reminded her that this was a dream. More, it was her fantasy. He was her fantasy, had been since she was a little girl and dreamed of someone coming to her rescue.
He dropped her hand and took a big step back. Im sorry. I shouldnt have done that.
Why not? Its my fantasy. But he wasnt playing his part. He should have been whispering sweetly to her, kissing her, stroking
The cabin door blew open with a bang, making her jolt as a cold gust of wind puffed ashes into the hearth and swirled smoke into the air. But that wasnt what had opened the door. Because as Dayn spun toward the commotion, a huge figure darkened the doorway. Reda shot to her feet. Then she froze and a three-headed giant stepped through.
So tall that it had to duck through the door, the monstrous creature had the body of a man, huge and muscular, but its skin was cement-gray and its broad shoulders supported three ogre-faced heads with protruding lower jaws, curved upthrusting teeth and fierce black eyes framing moist, snubbed noses. The thing was dressed in a leathery loincloth, boots the size of mailboxes and studded wristbands and neck collars, and it carried a huge, blunt-headed club that was ringed with spikes and banded with iron. When it caught sight of her and Dayn, all three faces grinned horribly.
Dayn lunged for a rack of weapons her mind had initially dismissed as decor, grabbed a crossbow and yelled, Run!
The middle head locked on him while the other two stayed leering at her. Which made it tough to figure out who was the target as the creature bellowed a roar, drew back and swung its enormous club of death.
Down! Dayn plowed into her. They slammed against the back of the sofa, which overbalanced and fell, taking them with it.
The club screamed over their heads and crashed into the chimney above the hearth, sending chunks of brick spattering around the room. Nearly flattened beneath Daynhe might be rangy, but he was solid Reda struggled to breathe through the white-hot grip of panic. This isnt happening, cant be happening. Its just a dream, not real, none of this is real.
Heavy footsteps thudded as the creature came toward them, growling low in its three-way throat.
Not real. A dream. Im waking up now. On the count of three, Im going to open my eyes and everything will be back to normal.
Stay down, Dayn whispered in her ear, shifting as the monster stumped nearer, shoving furniture and knocking things crashing to the floor.
One.
Three heads came into view, six eyes locked on and the creature roared, reared back and swung. Dayn shouted something, lunged to his feet and fired his crossbow from the hip. The bolt buried itself at the top of the giants middle throat.
Shaking, Reda flattened herself. She couldnt breathe, couldnt think, couldnt do anything but count.