Hood's Obsession (10 page)

It didn’t matter to her what that man thought.

Sniffing, she wiped at the betraying tear in her eye and determined herself to put him out of her mind.

Allowing her magic to waver long enough for her to bathe the dust and grime of their journey off, she stepped into the goosebump-inducing waters.

That he would dare criticize her for doing what needed to be done. And not even a thank you to be had. She should have left him there to rot. He’d been snared by the dragon’s spell, sure, there’d been the wish. Using it would have been infinitely less stressful than the route she’d chosen, but she’d gotten the job done, hadn’t she? And they hadn’t had to waste the magic of the godmother’s wish so soon into their journey.

She clutched the glass pendant in her hand.

It’d all worked out in the end.

Sighing, Lilith grabbed some smooth soapstone off the bottom and rubbed it down her body, causing the water to burst with shiny bubbles. She should have known that a little bit of food and music and a couple days of near silence wouldn’t have been enough to make him let it go.

“Stubborn man.” She scrubbed her leg vehemently.

The demone made her think so much of her father and their old-world mentality about what a woman could and couldn’t do and his constant need to stress that he meant to see her safe. She might be young compared to him, but she was no fool. She rolled her eyes. She was an equal and he needed to realize that.

“That demone could vex even a saint,” she spat and then stilled as she finally noticed what her anger had shrouded from her.

The woods were quiet.

Unnaturally so.

The sudden stillness of sound wormed its way through her brain, causing her to twirl in the water. Where were the croaking frogs, the humming cicadas? It wasn’t that she sensed anyone present—more that there was such an obvious void of noise that it caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end.

A stiff northern breeze brushed against her nipples, causing her to shiver as the leaves rattled in the trees. And then there were eyes. Hundreds and hundreds of red beady, glowing eyes that seemed to come out of nowhere, appearing like a field of ghosts come to life.

A flash of white fur scampered off and the feeling that those mice at the pub hadn’t been just some strange fluke after all gripped her by the throat.

And then the mice began jumping into the water. One dive-bombing in and then another and then another, all swimming toward her.

Realizing she needed to get back to camp immediately she rushed toward the bank, but a wall of rats appeared and they were clicking their teeth at her, hissing and waving their little rodent palms at her.

One rat wasn’t a problem; two or three wasn’t even that bad. But when the numbers got into the hundreds, as it now was, they could easily strip the flesh off of someone.

Jerking away from their sharp teeth, she noticed that if she moved in the opposite direction they grew calm.

Maybe if she could just maneuver around the wall and backtrack she could get back to camp and tell Giles they needed to leave immediately.

But every time she attempted to backtrack, the chattering and nipping picked up again. Scanning the ground, she saw the mice from before now joining the rats, and they were both moving in an unified stream, calm only when she moved in the direction it seemed they wanted her to.

Mice didn’t bother her. Their naked little tails and beady eyes had never fazed her much. But there was something unnatural about the way they gathered like this.

Almost as though they were being…controlled.

And with that thought came another: why did it seem like they were herding her? Back of her neck prickling with a spot of fear, she tried once again to backtrack, but the rodents crawled up her leg and one of them took a plug out of her, making her yowl in response. She slapped it off her thigh, feeling a warm trickle of blood slide down her leg.

“Giles,” she cried, feeling a fool because she was sure he wouldn’t hear her from this distance, but it didn’t stop her from trying again. “Giles, come quick.”

Hunched over to avoid the branches of low-hanging pines, Lilith never saw the blow coming.

She came to she wasn’t sure how much later. All she knew was that her head was throbbing, she tasted blood on her tongue, and her vision was woozy.

Grunting, she tried to move, but her body was frozen.

An irritating annoying sound, like a buzzing mosquito rang in her sensitive ears.

“Good, she’s awake, sisters,” a female voice sneered and then a bucket of water was splashed onto Lilith’s face.

Coughing, sputtering out the water, she blinked through the haze trying to make out who was attacking her and why.

“Karis, was that really necessary?” one of the voices asked.

Karis
?

Lilith sucked in a sharp breath because the mention of that name jogged a long-forgotten memory. It was foggy and only half-formed, but she remembered that it’d involved her brother, Lleweyn, and possibly even her, but the details were extremely sketchy at the moment.

Still coughing, feeling as though she couldn’t take a proper breath, Lilith blinked several times until the spinning world no longer seemed quite so unbalanced.

“Damn right it was necessary. You know what this one can do,” Karis muttered before pinning Lilith with her rich, brown eyes. Curvy and hippy, with a full bust and an enviably slim waist, she looked more like the type of woman you’d see dressed up for a princely ball. Of course it didn’t help that she was wearing a buttery yellow ballgown-looking dress, but this was no regular princess dress. It’d been raggedly chopped off at the knees—as though she’d taken scissors to it and gone crazy—revealing the black laced-up combat boots. Almost like she was thumbing her nose at herself and doing it with an anarchist’s flair.

She had a rich cascade of mahogany-colored wavy hair that spilled down to her waist and large doe eyes. First impressions would make one think she was a gentle-bred woman made to dance at balls and bow to kings. Until one glanced down to the basket hilted sword she usually kept strapped to her waist, but which was now being held tip-first mere inches from Lilith’s windpipe.

“Wolf, we’re not here to kill, but if you don’t answer us we’ll make an exception,” the voice that’d chastised Karis spoke up again.

She still couldn’t figure out why she was bound, who these women were, or why they’d want her. The memory was so hazy it barely made sense.

Lilith tried to make out the creature standing mostly in shadow. In her wolf form she’d have been able to tell immediately, but her human sight wasn’t nearly as good. Not to mention that the constant horrible ringing in her ears was throwing her entire system out of whack.

“Recognize me yet, wolf?” She chuckled beneath her breath. “No?” the female whispered throatily after a lengthy pause. “Then let me refresh your memory.”

There was a scent of smoke, like charred wood, and then the woman talking stepped fully into a circle of light.

She had thick strands of bubblegum-pink hair caught up in a bun that had several golden hairpins sticking out of it. Exceedingly short, she was maybe five feet tall and had delicate but striking Asian features—high cheekbones, full lips, and thick eyelashes that framed greenish-blue eyes peppered with golden flecks that glinted like flame as she smiled.

Garbed in an imperial jacket the exact same shade as her hair and wearing silky black pants that fell to just below her knees, there could be no doubt as to the woman’s heritage.

She was a xiather, also known as a dragonborn. They were born only of royal dragon and human blood, the mating was brutal, and the delivering of a healthy child was exceedingly rare.

Strapped to her back was a golden bow, legendary in that only a xiather could hold it. Infused with dragon’s blood, should anyone outside the genus even try they’d turn to ash in seconds.

In an instant Lilith knew who stood before her. There were only three xiathers known to exist. Two of them males and one female.

“Ying Lor,” she said, and then moaned when a bolt of pain flashed across her temple. She’d taken a direct hit earlier.

Ying’s lips stretched into a sultry smile. “In the flesh, shifter wolf.”

How long had she been out of it? Where was Giles? He must be worrying. His caution of earlier suddenly echoed in her mind. Gods, she’d been foolish. It galled her to admit that he and mother were right about her.

Young and brash and stupid.

Lilith whined from the pervasive sound buzzing painfully in her ear. She needed to get away.

“Why have you brought me here?” she grunted with a voice gone hoarse.

Moving her head left and right, she tried in vain to make out what was holding her strapped to the tree trunk.

“We knew the moment we spotted you entering the pub that there was something slightly off about you, didn’t we, Karis?”

Karis shrugged as a whisper of a smile played about her lips. The sword she held was still steady on Lilith’s neck.

Lilith flexed her fingers, discerning no cuffs, no rope. There was nothing holding her to the tree, and yet she couldn’t move away from it.

Neither a xiather nor Karis had the power to hold her this way.

“Where is the third?” she snarled, realizing there was still one missing.

Brown eyes twinkled. “Only just figuring that out. You’re not very bright, are you, dear?” Karis laughed.

Growling deep in her throat, Lilith attempted to kick her way out of whatever held her bound. Writhing, snarling, and scraping up her back on the rough bark of the tree as she fought furiously to free herself.

A white mouse scampered across her toes, then another, and another. Not attacking, but just staring at her—a whole horde of them coming to join their brothers and sisters. Surrounding not just Lilith, but also the two women who now smiled triumphantly.

Suddenly the ear bleeding buzzing stopped, and the invisible bands holding Lilith in place vanished. Dropping to her hands and knees, she panted, choking down the sweet air.

“Looking for me?”

She was taller than Ying or Karis, though not by much. Wearing navy-blue leather pants and a halter top which contrasted sharply but hypnotically against the dark brown of her skin. Skin that gleamed like rich chocolate in the moonlight. Burgundy and black dread locks fell to the middle of her back. Her smile was huge, showing a set of small teeth with a very dominant pair of canines. Deep, mesmerizing brown—almost black—eyes stared back at her.

Very curvy and busty, she was a male wolf’s wet dream come to life. In her hand she held a silver flute that she tipped outward as if to say,
The magic came from this.

Lilith sucked in a sharp breath as the face finally clicked into place.

“Rayale.”

Stories always made out the pied piper to be a male with a magical flute who, when playing it, would hypnotize little children into leaving their home for parts unknown. Reality was that the piper was no male
—he
was actually a
she
. And she had had the very unfortunate misfortune of falling in love with Lilith’s brother, Lleweyn.

Lilith loved him, but she was no fool, either. Lleweyn was a scoundrel, and that was putting it politely.

“I see I’m not quite so forgettable after all. How are you doing, Lilith?” Her melodic voice vibrated with just a shiver of the raw magic she could wield when playing her flute.

Ying stepped back but crossed her arms, drumming her fingers on her biceps and letting Lilith know in no uncertain terms that should she attempt escape it would end very badly for her.

Karis had still not put her sword down.

Lilith shook her head. “Rayale, I don’t have it.”

“Ha!” Rayale tipped her head back and laughed. “You think me a fool. I know he gave it to you. Now we want it back,” she barked, no longer so jovial.

Lilith could barely remember the night Lleweyn had been beset by this group of deadly women.

It’d been the night of her cousin Briar’s reaping. The night when a she-wolf turned from pup to adult. The drinks had been plentiful and all had been rowdy.

Then the mice had begun appearing.

She shook her head, mouth feeling horribly parched. The ringing in her ears had let up, but the blow to her temple had definitely played a part in her wooziness. Shaking the marbles loose, she reached for her necklace.

“I am telling you, he never gave me anything.”

She could only assume the women were here for whatever it was they claimed Lleweyn had stolen. They’d screeched it at him that night, demanding he return it. She’d been terribly confused then and had demanded her brother tell her the truth as to whether or not he’d in fact stolen an heirloom from the women. But he’d called them crazy and pleaded that Lilith should trust him and not to tell their parents about it.

She’d put the incident behind her, trusting wholeheartedly in the sincerity of her brother’s wolfish gaze. But now she wondered whether he’d lied to her all those years ago.

Sharp claws gripped Lilith’s chin, digging in unmercifully and causing her to wince. Ying’s eyes blazed. “Do you think we would let you charm your way out of this? We want what rightfully belongs to us.”