Authors: Eleri Stone
Horror and rage sliced through her body when she saw Arturo standing framed at the entrance holding Michael in his arms. Even though she’d been anticipating it, the sight struck her like a physical blow. A dozen full-blooded warriors ranged behind him. Mateus was there too, expression drawn.
“Such a fragile little thing. It’s no wonder most of them don’t survive to maturity,” Arturo said, looking down at the squirming infant. When he looked up again, he smiled and bowed his head briefly. “My queen.”
She fought to control her reaction. She did not so much as glance at Michael. She needed for Arturo to believe that she was nothing more than the weapon he’d created. Iada could read her uncle’s intention in his cold dark eyes…and the question there as well. She repressed a shudder, lifted her chin and nodded slightly. His smile widened, and then he tilted his head toward the jungle.
“Will the king be joining us?”
“Of course, uncle,” she said, bowing her head.
She could sense Gabriel coming up behind her. His heat pressed in on her, his scent a bitter mix of fear and anger that made her nostrils flare. He should have stayed back, organized his guard for attack and let her handle her uncles. She was well used to that role at least. But of course, she reminded herself, he did not trust her.
“If any harm comes to that child,” Gabriel growled, “I will kill you so slowly that you beg for death.”
Arturo’s smirk slid into a full grin, confident that he was in control. He glanced at Iada and she raised an eyebrow, a long-standing signal that she was prepared to follow his lead. Where was Vin? His absence was an unexpected complication. She pushed that worry aside and focused on the one at hand.
“You should not make threats you’re not able to enforce,” Arturo told Gabriel. “A bit of advice, one leader to another. Not that you’ll have the opportunity to use it.”
Gabriel’s voice thickened so that his response was barely understandable. “You will not harm the child.”
Arturo chuckled in genuine amusement. Iada closed her eyes. He was so transparent, her mate. Bold and disturbingly honest. Usually she admired him for it, just not now. Right now she needed to distract Arturo’s attention away from Michael and there was only one thing that would do that. She snagged Gabriel’s wrist, twisting it between his shoulder blades, and then she pushed him forward into the waiting warriors. He managed to free his arm before the guards were on him, flipping her to the ground in the process. Her head cracked hard against the jagged edge of the rock and the skin along the back of her shoulder was scraped raw as she slid down the side.
There was a scuffle above as they drove Gabriel to the ground and bound him. The hard thud of fists meeting flesh sounded again and again, echoed by soft grunts and muffled groans. She ignored the sound and stumbled to her feet, feeling the cut to her scalp with her fingertips. Only two inches and not too deep. It seemed an inordinate amount of blood for such a little cut but head wounds were like that. Gabriel was bound by the time she climbed back onto the ledge. She could feel the heat of his glare sweep over her. His untrained guard rushed the perimeter and the waiting Yaguara warriors made quick work of them as well. Gabriel was actually snarling in rage at her betrayal. She didn’t dare look his way. Was it really a betrayal when this was what he had expected all along?
Stepping lightly over Gabriel’s body, she took Michael from her uncle before he could discard the child. Michael wailed but shushed when she shifted him against her shoulder. It was as much comfort as she dared offer him. She stepped back, hoping the shadows obscured her. Mateus found her as Arturo went forward to inspect his prize.
“Iada,” Mateus whispered furiously, narrowed black eyes searching over her face.
Iada shook her head. “It’s the only way.”
Vin had conveniently arrived only after Gabriel was restrained, she noted. He was now gloating over Gabriel’s prone body with his brother. The remaining Yaguara were still occupied with subduing Gabriel’s guard. They weren’t being gentle about it and Iada winced at the smell of fresh blood.
“Take the child to Anna,” she told Mateus. “You’ll be able to follow our trail to her.”
Mateus sucked in a sharp breath. “Anna lives?”
Iada nodded, ignoring the confirmation that Mateus had known all along what her uncles had done to her sister. She should have known. She should have been able to prevent it. “Gabriel may track you.” She ignored the skeptical look Mateus shot her way and continued in a whisper, “You can trust him.”
“Then why…”
Iada cut him off. “Trust me and go…” She faltered then and when Mateus looked as if he would object further, she pushed Michael into his arms and added, “Please.”
A fleeting expression of shock crossed his features but he took Michael and nodded. As soon as he turned away, she stepped forward to join her uncles. With luck Mateus would be well away with Michael before her uncles thought to question where the child had gone. They would likely think that someone had simply disposed of the noisy, pungent little burden. As long as they had Gabriel, they were unlikely to worry overmuch about their bait.
She waited until she was certain that Mateus was gone before placing her hand on Vin’s sleeve to draw his attention.
“I knew you wouldn’t let us down, child,” he said to her, and she didn’t even cringe. Not even when Arturo wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them in a rare show of approval.
Arturo dipped his head and said to her in a low voice, “No matter if the mutant defiled you, Iada. You are still queen. We will tell the people that your sacrifice was part of our plan to root out this rebellion.”
Gabriel surged up to his knees, displacing the two men who’d been holding him down with the weight of their huge bodies. His face was warped in a grimace of anger and searing hatred. “Defiled?” He spat, blood spraying from his split lip. “When do you feel defiled, wife—when I am buried inside you? Or is it only after?”
“Both,” Iada said flatly and Gabriel lunged forward, shifting midair and knocking Luis to the floor. Rafael just managed to slip the ring around his neck and pull him back an instant before his teeth sank into Iada’s thigh.
Gabriel shifted back to human form to loosen the choke of the metal wire, hatred raw and blazing in his eyes as he glared up at Iada. His voice was tight with fury. “One of those times when you were trembling beneath me, crying out my name, I might have planted a mutant child in you. What will you do then?”
He was trying to shame her, trying to turn her uncles and their men against her, letting them know that she had betrayed them too. His rage played perfectly into her plan. She’d hoped that Gabriel would not see through her deception. At the same time, a small secret part of her had hoped that he would know the truth. It hurt. Either way, it hurt her badly. But as always, she wrapped her will around her heart and did what was necessary.
Iada looked Gabriel dead in the eye and said, “I will ensure that child follows his father to the grave.” Ignoring his howl of rage, she calmly turned her back on her husband and looked to her uncle.
“Let me kill him,” she demanded. “It is my right.”
Vin smiled slowly and but he didn’t lower the gun. She saw his finger begin to move and she pivoted sharply, disarming him with a swift twist to his wrist. The hollow snap told her she’d broken bone and she smiled grimly as she wrenched the weapon free. Leveling it only inches from Arturo’s head, she commanded Rafael over her shoulder, “Release your king.”
Vin was writhing in the dirt at her feet and she stepped a little apart from him so that he wouldn’t be able to distract her. Gabriel had gone quiet and still. Rafael looked from her to Gabriel, back to the cringing Arturo and then he made his decision. She knew these warriors—the fiercest the Yaguara possessed. Her uncles had made a grave miscalculation. These men would follow the strongest leader.
She didn’t dare take her eyes off her uncles. She heard the bright slide of metal behind her, Rafael’s soft murmur and Gabriel’s answering grunt. She felt Gabriel approach, felt the warmth of him at her back, felt one of his large hands cup her shoulder. She could feel him trembling still, but his touch was achingly gentle. He said nothing as she told Pedro to release Gabriel’s guard and then to secure her uncles in the cave. She ordered the limping Enrique to stand guard until she came to relieve him. He was the only one she could trust here not to be manipulated by their lies.
***
Gabriel’s guard stood frozen in place behind him, silent and watchful. No shouts of joy at the capture of their enemy, not a breath or a whisper of movement. Gabriel reached for Iada but she slipped away, placing the gun on the rock ledge with a click, bracing herself against the soft cast of his eyes, the tender note in his voice as he whispered her name.
“Defile?” Her voice was shaking. She took a deep breath to steady it. “How could you believe it, Gabriel? Do you not know me at all?”
He took a step forward. “You were raised on ugly lies, Iada. I could never be certain how deeply they lodged. Until now.”
“
I
am not an idiot.
I
don’t believe everything that I hear,” she said pointedly and he winced. “Mateus is on his way to Anna with Michael. We need to catch him and make sure they get there safely.”
She swayed and put a hand to her forehead. The hair there was matted and tacky with blood. Gabriel grabbed her forearm to steady her. His hand was so warm and familiar that she whimpered, a soft sound swallowed down quickly, but his fingers tightened and she knew that he’d heard it too.
“Here, sit. That cut looks bad. I didn’t…I am sorry.” And his hand was on her shoulder, pushing her down to the rock. His care was like a rending claw tearing up her insides. The worried frown on his face as his fingers deftly probed the edges of the cut was the worst part of this awful day. In it she saw her future.
Gabriel would care for her and demand that his people respect her. He would honor her as his wife because that was who he was. But she would know that when he looked at her he saw the Silveira champion, an enemy, a woman not to be trusted. And she couldn’t offer up a defense. She was a traitor—maybe not to him but to her own family.
And she wanted him badly enough to almost make it worth it. She would come to accept it if she stayed—arching into every touch from him, aching for a scrap of praise, waiting for him to look at her with that cocky half smile, all the while knowing that he would never really love her back. Her uncles had imprisoned and controlled her but Gabriel was far more dangerous. If she allowed it, he would own her—body, heart and soul.
“Give me a moment while you gather your men and figure out what to do with my uncles,” she told him, swallowing hard, past the thickness clogging up her throat. “Then we can go see that Michael makes it back to Anna safely.”
He gave her a searching look, the frown never leaving his face. They could both hear Enrique calling his name and she knew that Gabriel would not ignore his duty.
“We are not finished with this conversation.” He hesitated until Enrique shouted again then dropped a kiss to the top of her head and turned away. She watched him until he entered the cave. Then she shifted and slipped away.
***
Gabriel looked out into the jungle. The lone torch had long since burned itself out and his eyes had adjusted to the darkness once again. The jungle sounded active, raucous, crowded…normal. He heard Enrique cross from the cave he’d insisted upon checking one last time.
Gabriel didn’t bother turning. “She’s gone.”
“Maybe she followed Michael,” Enrique said. “It took longer than we thought to…”
“No.”
He was certain of it. Although he’d been certain that she would have more courage than to slink away when his back was turned. Something must have spooked her badly. Even as he thought it, his sense of honesty rejected it. She’d left him, and not out of fear. It was intentional disregard. He’d rejected her when he assumed that she was the traitor. So she’d dismissed him after she’d single-handedly rescued Michael and Gabriel both.
Enrique placed a hand on his shoulder. “Gabriel, you need to make sure Michael makes it back safely to Anna and then you can go to Iada. I’ll follow her now.”
Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. “She’s injured.”
“It will make her easier to track,” Enrique said.
Gabriel looked down at his hands where her blood still stained his fingers. He remembered the way she’d pulled away from him and the bruised look to her eyes. “Bring her back to me.”
Enrique sighed but nodded. “If she wishes.”
She was better off without Gabriel, Iada thought, making her way through the market. She’d returned to the compound first to reassure Beatriz that Mateus lived, to tell her the news and prepare any who might be sympathetic to Gabriel. Beatriz happily informed her that there were many who’d been secretly pleased by her uncles’ fall. It surprised her when Beatriz said that Nicolas and Miguel supported Gabriel, both purists at the academy who were disdainful of mutants as a whole.
“The qualities that make them dismiss the mutants as lesser are the same that make them hold to the old ways and the law,” Beatriz had told her. “They look at Gabriel’s strength and his courage and they see a king. A flair for drama, your mate, but it serves him well. It recalls to them the warriors of legend and makes your uncles appear petty bureaucrats by comparison.”
She did not tell Beatriz of her plans to leave. Beatriz wanted her to remain in bed. The blow to her head, the long cut along her side and the scrapes at her back were not as bad as they looked and troubled her little, but Beatriz was prone to smother.
And so Iada had done what she could to ease Gabriel’s return in the few days that she remained at the compound, gathering money, supplies and information. Then she walked into the jungle at twilight with a small pack strapped across her shoulders and she did not look back as the light faded behind her.
Traveling north and east, she walked for a full day before she had to slow in order to avoid the human settlements that were becoming more frequent along the river. She would not stop here among them. There were too few people, small groups of extended family. They would ask too many questions of a woman appearing out of the jungle.
She’d come all the way to Santarem—big enough to get lost in and a tourist city flooded with new faces weekly. She’d stayed at a modest hotel the first week while she healed enough so that people stopped staring at the bandage over her forehead. After that, with no purpose, she lost her way, wandering about the city, the bars and marketplaces, watching the humans but not knowing how to be one of them.
So she’d decided to find a small apartment that opened onto a courtyard with blooming granadilla’s that reminded her of Enrique. She’d found a job—how her uncles would have laughed—as a waitress at a tiny restaurant. She learned how to talk to people. She learned when to laugh at a joke and how to slap away a bold hand without drawing blood. She’d learned to stop looking over her shoulder whenever she caught sight of a well-formed black-haired man on the streets.
She knew better but it took weeks before she stopped thinking that Gabriel would come for her. He had what he wanted now. There was no reason for him to come. The sun was high, still shining directly into the empty market square. No one would come to the restaurant for a few hours yet when the day began to cool but she’d promised Tilda that she would come in early to help with the prep work.
Iada turned down a narrow street, little more than an alley between buildings, and the sweat between her shoulders cooled at the sudden drop in temperature. When she came out the other side, the glare made her miss the man sitting beneath the faded green awning at first.
“You look well, Iada,” he said warmly.
She stopped walking and stared, blinking until her eyes could focus. And then she walked forward, wary but smiling. “Enrique. It is good to see you.”
She meant it even as she wondered why he was here. He was dressed in khaki shorts and an orange T-shirt, sunglasses and one of the floppy canvas hats the tourists liked to wear.
She raised one eyebrow. “Vacation?”
“I thought I would travel.” He grinned, spreading his hands wide. “A pilgrimage of sorts. I follow the same trail the queen of the Yaguara took upon her exile.”
Her blood chilled a bit at that and her smile faded. “Exile?”
Enrique waved a hand. “Self-imposed. It’s a tragic tale. Have you never heard it?”
She sat down at the empty chair across from him. “Tell me of this foolish queen who would leave her home to come to such a place.”
“Not foolish,” Enrique said with a solemnity at odds with her teasing tone. “She was cunning and strong.”
He sat back in his chair and took a sip from his bottle of Skol. She traced the ring of condensation it left behind and waited for him to continue.
“She was betrayed first by her family and then by her lover, the king. So she left the lot of them behind. Not so very foolish, I think.”
She took a napkin and wiped away the mess she’d made, still not looking at him. “Perhaps she was foolish to trust them in the first place.”
“Trust is like hope,” Enrique said, giving her a wry smile. “Never foolish although sometimes misplaced.”
“Don’t,” she warned him.
He leaned forward and tried to take her hand. “People make mistakes. I think that…”
She cut him off, gaze angling up sharply to meet his, already tired of the game. “Do not ask me to forgive him when he did not care enough to come himself. He is not here.”
Enrique watched her outburst calmly, taking another long sip of his drink before leaning forward and setting down his glass. “He is where he should be, where he needs to be now, holding on to his throne by the tip of one claw. You should be at his side.”
She stood abruptly, nearly oversetting her chair. It stung. It shouldn’t but it did. She was tired of other people binding her with their expectations. She’d thrown off those bonds and she liked the freedom of only answering to herself. She didn’t owe anyone anything and she liked it that way. A rare breeze came through, ruffling the awning and blowing a strand of hair across her face. She absently tucked it behind her ear and said, “Enjoy your stay, Enrique. I do wish all of you the best.”
He grabbed her arm when she moved to walk past him. She looked down at his face and would have torn her arm free if not for the sympathetic look there. “I know that he hurt you badly but he is a good man. He sent me to find you as soon as you left. That boy is probably worried sick by now.” He grinned and said conspiratorially, “I thought that a little worry might be good for him.”
When she didn’t answer, his grin faded a bit. He shook her arm lightly and said, “Give him another chance.”
Tilda waved at her from the window and Iada pulled her arm free to wave back. “I need to go to work.”
Enrique lifted his brows at that but said nothing. She would have resented it if he had. She was proud of her job and her place here. It was something she could claim as her own. She tilted her head, not wanting to leave him on that sour note. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
“There’s a shelter a few blocks over. One of Gabriel’s. I’ll bring them the good news and start back in the morning.” A pause. “You’re welcome to join me.”
She shook her head. “I’ll think about what you said,” she promised. “But I’m still trying to figure out who I am without someone to tell me.”
His eyes widened and he laughed. “If you did not already know that, you would have become the monster your uncles wanted long ago.”
“I did.” Her hand fisted. “I was.”
“No.” The voice came from behind her and she swung around to find Gabriel standing there, looking uncertain and irritated and absolutely gorgeous. Sunlight gleamed on his sleek black hair and highlighted the stark planes of his face. He wore a white button-down shirt tucked into dark jeans that did more to show his muscles than cover them. His hands rested lightly on his hips as he stood there, letting her look her fill while his gaze moved over her. He lingered on the scar just below her hairline and she tilted her head down, letting her hair shift to hide it.
His sharp gaze moved to fix Enrique with a glare. “Four weeks. You just arrived today, Rosa said.”
Enrique shrugged. “I am an old man, my friend. I don’t travel as quickly as I used to.”
Gabriel snorted his opinion of that and dismissed Enrique with a shake of his head. Looking back at Iada, he took a step in her direction. The intent in his eyes stole her breath. He wanted her still. That was not why she ran, she reminded herself, and tried to ignore the need on his face, tried to ignore the ache of her own desire rising up to answer his. She stepped away from him and he faltered, face clearing of all expression.
“Why are you here, Gabriel?”
She could see his throat move as he swallowed and the wary cast to his features. “I gave you as much time as I could. I missed you, Iada. I need you.” His deep voice poured over her like warmed oil. She refused to be undone by the caress of it.
She frowned. “Is there a problem? When I was at the compound, it didn’t seem to me that anyone there would give you much trouble. I escorted the worst of my uncles’ supporters to the borders myself.”
He smiled as if that amused him greatly and he shook his head. “I’ve only had to threaten a few troublemakers. It’s mostly toe-dodging diplomacy now.”
She smiled a little at that. “Just as well I’m not there, then. I never could resist stomping on toes.”
He gave her that crooked smile and hers faded. The silence stretched uncomfortably and she thought about retreating inside the restaurant.
“Why did you run?” he asked her gruffly. He cleared his throat and said, “I wouldn’t have stopped you if you chose to leave.”
“You’d have tried to get me to stay.”
His brow furrowed in confusion and he nodded once. “I would have done my best to convince you to stay with me.” That cocky grin she hated and loved flashed wide, kicking up a long dimple in his cheek. “I probably would have succeeded.”
“I know,” she said quietly, and he was looking at her again like he could see right through her. She knew that he understood her meaning when he groaned her name and reached for her. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe and like a coward she turned for the door.
“I have to go. I have to work,” she said quickly and slipped inside.
He didn’t follow her. She glanced through the window and he was standing there frowning at the door. Then he turned and said something sharply to Enrique. She had time to run. This time she would go far enough that he could not find her.
***
Gabriel gave her a second to feel safe and then followed her inside. He thought she might run again and knew he was right when a slim pretty woman with an apron tied to her waist moved to intercept him. Ignoring her protests, he took her by the shoulders and gently moved her to the side. He went into the kitchen. Iada was there, one hand already on the back door. She glanced back at him and her shoulders sagged.
He heard the door open behind him and Iada waved at a point somewhere over his shoulder. She said, “It’s all right, Tilda.”
He glanced back. With an aggravated huff, Tilda gave Gabriel a look that promised death should any harm come to her friend. He met her glare with a bemused smile and Tilda reluctantly retreated to the dining area. Iada had made human friends—who would have thought it? She hid a soft heart behind that cool beauty and tight reserve. He supposed it had been the only way to protect herself from her uncles all those years. Meeting his mate’s frightened but fierce gaze, he wished he could kill Vin and Arturo all over again.
Tilda would be listening at the door and he would rather not have an audience for what needed to be said between him and his mate, but looking at Iada poised to run, he would take what he could get. He walked over to her while she was still frozen with indecision. She glanced at the door behind her, still slightly ajar, and then over to a purse on the counter a few feet away. When he was close enough, he reached behind her and placed his palm flat against the door, slamming it closed. She shifted her feet back and he braced his other hand on the door as well, imprisoning her.
“Please don’t run again.” He breathed in her scent and restrained himself with effort from pressing his nose right up to her neck where it would be stronger. He was trying not to scare her. “I only want you to talk to me, love.”
She winced like he’d cut her but brave woman that she was, she met his gaze directly and said, “You don’t trust me.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted, feeling his way carefully. “I do now.”
“It still hurts.” She placed one hand between her breasts and shook her head, her hair brushing against his arms. “I was never this weak until I met you.”
Gabriel felt shattered by the honest bewilderment in her voice. He realized she must be scared half to death by the feeling of that kind of vulnerability. Especially when she couldn’t possibly understand it. She looked caged and edgy, definitely spooked.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that he’d misjudged her again. He’d believed that Iada was angry with him when she left. He’d accepted her right to it and thrown himself into the effort of securing his throne, exhausting himself daily until the need to chase her down was dulled by fatigue. It never went away. Her absence gnawed at his bones. But he had tried. He’d wanted to give her space, time for her rage to cool, time for her to decide if she could forgive him. He’d never considered that she might be afraid and he felt a surge of panic that she might run again.
“You are strong.” The strongest person he’d ever known. That strength terrified him just now, knowing that she had the strength of will to turn away from what she wanted because it made her vulnerable. So, letting some of the tenderness he felt for her show, he said gently, “It only hurts because you care for me.”
She was shaking her head but there was a glint of steel in her eyes. “I am furious with you.”
“You care for me,” he repeated, hoping that he was right. “It’s why you’re angry. That tightness in your chest? That’s your heart, beauty, flexing its poor neglected muscles. You’ll get used to it.”
“Don’t mock me.” She tried to push away but he edged his body closer.
Taking his life into his hands, he leaned into her, cupping her face to kiss her gently. “Don’t look so horrified,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re hardly defenseless.”
She shook her head and blinked furiously. Tears glittered on her long black lashes and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.
“My heart, Iada. I yield it to your care.” He nuzzled her neck and she tilted her head just so, to allow him better access. He smiled against her damp skin. “I’m sorry I was so careless with yours.”