“I don’t want you to bite me.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Her heart began to race, and she saw Aday peeking from behind a tree. “Why are you doing this?”
“Respect, Saraal.”
“I give you my body anytime you want it.” She hated the quiver of fear in her voice. “I give you my respect. I don’t want to give my blood. If you’re hungry, take a human.”
“I don’t want a human.”
He was closer. Boxing her in. She looked to the sky, but she could not reach it, even though it called her.
“Don’t. Do. This.” Saraal clenched her jaw and turned her head to the side when Temur backed her up against a tree. His large body pinned her in.
“Give me your neck, Saraal.”
She had allowed him to touch her. She had grown to enjoy it at times, since Temur seemed to care. She’d begun to reach for him, which he enjoyed even more.
“Please, Temur,” she whispered, dread coating her throat. “Don’t do this thing.”
He bent down, put a hand to her throat, and sunk his fangs in her neck. Saraal closed her eyes at Temur’s groan of pleasure. The small portion of her heart that had softened to him died, even as the sensual pleasure of his bite washed over her.
“Tseetsa,” he groaned. “So sweet.” He tugged at her clothes. She did nothing to stop him. He pushed her leggings down and untied his own, then he lifted her against the tree and slid his body in hers. The pain wrapped around her heart as he took her.
She saw Aday leaning against a tree on the other side of the clearing, watching them both. Her mouth sneered, but her eyes reflected Saraal’s pain.
“Just like the others,” Aday whispered. “I told you. He is just like the others.”
When Temur was finished, he kissed her neck and licked the drops of blood from it. Then he kissed her again and ran a soft hand over her hair.
“That was good, Saraal. I can feel you in me now.” He put his arms around her and took off into the air. Aday followed them. “I can sense you now. This is good.”
But he hadn’t offered his own blood to her. No, Temur didn’t offer that kind of trust. After all, she might have been Jun’s child, but she was still just a woman. That much had always been clear.
He flew them back to the camp, and left her at her tent, walking off in the direction of the humans. His hunger was piqued now. He would probably drink from at least one more human. Possibly more. And then he would fuck some human women. He usually wanted three or four in a night if his blood was running. Saraal was just glad he didn’t seem to want her again.
She was distracted, but it still wasn’t an excuse. By the time Saraal sensed him, she was already in her tent, and Rashon had her by the neck.
“Let’s see what makes you so special, little bird,” the monster whispered, then he cut her throat before she could scream.
Aday woke with the earth in her mouth.
Enough.
She could sense the girl with her. The girl didn’t feel the wind as she did. Didn’t sense her power. The girl was broken. There was no repairing her this time. She huddled, terrified as the dirt became her grave.
Enough.
Aday felt the air around her, even underground. She felt the fine particles flowing through the soil, just as they flowed through the trees and the water. She knew there was no place the air did not live. No place she could not draw power. None. She had felt it long ago when she woke beside the girl. Felt it when she followed her through her years with Kuluun. With Temur. She had given the second a chance, but the girl had not found her power. Had not flown. She still didn’t understand.
Enough.
She could hear Rashon over her, stepping on the earth, leaving footprints over the spot where he’d buried the girl after he’d raped her viciously. After he broke her neck. After she was close to death. Rashon knew Temur would punish him. Taken by his own rage, he had forgotten it, but as the sun set and the moon rose, he remembered again.
Aday closed her eyes and pictured what she knew of Rashon’s tent. She had been in it many times, choosing a weapon from his chest before practice. She focused on one she had seen him polish, a new blade with a vicious curve that he’d picked up from traders in the west. It was new. It would be near the top of the chest. Wrapped in good leather, if she had to guess.
She would claim the blade. It would be hers when she killed its master.
Aday held her breath, but sent a curl of energy out, touching the air that permeated the soil. The air moved and shifted, pushing the soil down and lifting her up through the thick mass, obeying her command until she lay at the surface, naked and dusted in dirt, her body perfectly healed as she knew it would be.
She heard Rashon rifling through the chest, his back to her. She rose, her feet light upon the ground as she felt the wind cushion her. It swallowed the noise of her steps. It hid her movements from her enemy until she’d picked up a dagger he had laying beside his pallet.
Without a word, she went to him. He sensed her a second before she struck. He turned, mouth open, eyes gaping in horror at the monster she had become. The monster they had made.
Aday struck swiftly.
She drove the dagger through his throat so he could not scream. Drove it all the way through his neck until it pierced his spine. Then she yanked it back and forth, making sure Rashon’s backbone was severed. His body gave a jerk, but that lasted only a few seconds as she hacked off his head. Aday shoved it to the side and wiped away the blood that had spattered on her face. She kicked his body away from the chest and searched for the curved blade.