A Siren’s Song (Sisterhood of Jade Book 13) Page 5

  “Careful, that looks hot.”

  Stephano. She stiffened but covered it up quickly by wiping her fingers on a towel.

  Stephano snatched one of the breads, giving her arm a caress when he did. Sparks of awareness tingled everywhere. She picked up her water and sipped at it deeply, forcing her body to obey her. I will not grow aroused. I will not think about him. The pattern of her breathing slowed enough for her to set her water down and face him.

  He winked, mouth full. Such color filled his irises—amber, but lighter, filled with more green than hers. Hazel, she thought, suddenly wondering how the hazelnuts she used to pick could relate to the swirls flickering inward in his irises.

  His shaggy brow cocked up and he showed off his smile. It was practiced. Everything about him rang false, except his strength and power, and of course, when he had come last night. She’d watched his back bow and his muscles bulge as his body shot out a stream of pearly white semen. His shaft had been large, so big and rounded, the brown color visible even in the dimness of the midnight hour.

  “This is good. Stew again, or is it called chowder?”

  She sighed. He seemed to enjoy tormenting her. She had a feeling he’d enjoy tormenting her with his body too.

  He responded to her sign of disapproval with a bigger grin. “I’d guess chowder. Potatoes to make it thick?”

  She nodded hesitantly, lifting an eyebrow in question on how he knew. He ignored her and hummed to himself, simply smiling at her from his seat by the cook fire. It was frustrating. He was exasperating. Even if she didn’t want to like him, he was so flirtatious that she found herself liking him anyway.

  It was obvious he wanted sex. By the practiced ease he spoke to her, cajoled her and touched her, she guessed he wasn’t often told no. She could understand that. Still, it upset her. Jealous, ‘Aeve? As if you will ever own a man, have him call you his and be true to you?

  The direction of her thoughts sobered her, chilling her better than the icy stream. She checked on the chowder, which she had thickened with potatoes, and went through a list of their supplies in her mind. The milk would not last. Not in this heat. She would use it tomorrow for a breakfast of eggs and biscuits. They would be nearing an outpost in a few days. Brennan could barter for more there. They still had cold tack, hard honey-sweetened squares she’d made with oats and nuts. There was salted venison and salted pork. Vegetables were good, as well as the apples but she only had a few pears. She still had bit of cheese, and more than enough oats for porridge.

  “I always like cream. It makes a heavy, smoother taste on the tongue.”

  Startled out of her thoughts, she glanced at Stephano. He was rubbing his ear. He did that, she noticed, when he was being bad. She’d thought there was a hole, as if at one time he’d worn an ear ring, but such a feminine thing would appear ridiculous on him. He was too…manly. He did wear a silver clasp in his hair, around the leather holding it back, but she thought that more convenience than actual jewelry. But there was that ring…the circular pattern drew her eyes often. She wondered why he wore it, and if it meant anything. Brennan wore a pendant, but she had given it to him years ago. No doubt he would stop wearing it when they reached this new realm.

  “Yeah, Ajax burns the house down, I make meals. It helps, being a single guy.”

  A single guy. She doubted he was ever single for long.

  “’Aeve, what do we need tomorrow?” Brennan asked as he walked up, Alrick a step behind him. Her cheeks grew warm and for some reason her stomach did a flip-flop. It wasn’t as if they’d caught her touching Stephano. Having him near made her feel off center, almost…guilty. “Can you show me the supplies? I don’t want to dig into your packing.”

  She didn’t want him to either. She dusted her hands off, then picked up the spoon to stir the chowder with and handed it to Stephano. He brushed his fingers along hers as he took it, causing a tight knot of desire to try to break free. She frowned at him, the pot then the spoon.

  “Got it. Stir the supper or everyone will blame me if it burns.”

  She spun on her heel, bumping right into Alrick. He steadied her, but she walked on, not daring to glance at him in case he saw the passion she was trying to bank. She heard him chuckle behind her and say something about he would stay and make sure nothing was burned. Relieved, she kept walking, a silent presence at her back. She worried he knew something was wrong, but as soon as they were by the horses he grinned.

  “Alrick has offered us a place to live. He needs good men. He has promised we could stay on his lands. He has cottages, much nicer than anything we’ve had before, I’m certain. I can aid them and we can live there. You’ll be safe, ‘Aeve. Safe.”

  She smiled, forcing the happy expression past numb lips. Brennan had no idea. He was bursting with the news, the happiness of finally finding a place to stow her away like he did everything he cherished. But she would never be safe there, and eventually, if she stayed with him, she’d ruin things.

  “You’ll see,” he went on, taking her hands again.

  The touch was so rare she felt as if her heart were going to break. Tears washed her eyes but she ducked her head to hide them and tightened her hands on his. I love him so much. Why can’t he see he’s better off without me?

  “It’s going to be good. Safe. You’ll be safe. We need to get through this, then we’re safe.”

  She feared it wouldn’t be that easy. It never was that easy. Not with me.

  Chapter Five

  By midnight the next night, Stephano was so nervous, he needed to pace. If she didn’t show up soon, he was going to go off merely from the anticipation. He wasn’t palming himself, but thinking of Maeve’s sweet eyes on him had him tantalizingly close to blowing.

  He listened with all his might. No sound reached him above the water. No hint of movement, no scent of lavender. The moon was already passing the point of midnight and edging toward dawn. He’d set the trap. Made enough noise leaving camp, had waited until everyone else was asleep. He’d even been the one to pitch her tent tonight, making sure the back of it was looser, so she could crawl under it easier.

  Had he missed her? Had she snuck out earlier? Or worse, fallen asleep?

  He contemplated the day in the saddle, then supper. She’d been nervous. No doubt she’d worried he’d guessed she’d spied on him. She was a sweet woman, even if she was a liar and could talk, she was the kind of person that would be nervous at doing something so naughty as watching a man stroke off.

  Women were odd creatures of deep thought. He wanted her. She wanted him. It should be simple, but it never was. All through the meal she’d not been the same. Silent, yes, but remote, almost…cold. She’d not smiled at Ajax’s attempts at jokes, and only Garret, the little bastard, had been able to get her to show interest and only because he hadn’t eaten enough. She favored the boy. His pain maybe drew her, but if she wanted Garret, and not him…

  Stephano stilled the thought as a beast rose in his chest, snarling in fury.

  No one was touching her, or having her watch while he stroked off, but him.

  Ajax was a constant worry. He must have decided that keeping his distance was the wrong thing to do, because now he talked to her constantly. But Ajax wasn’t interested in anything other than keeping him from her.

  Garret was another matter.

  She watched Garret, openly, when she wasn’t peeking at him. Concerned mostly, but women were fickle creatures. He didn’t want her worry over Garret leading to more. He craved her sympathy. Her attention. Her body… But if she wanted Garret…

  Pissed and not sure why, he walked over to the stream and squatted so he could splash water on his face. It felt so good he dunked his head in. Breathless with the chill, he emerged somewhat more in control. The trickle down his back eased the heat even better.

  This land was blistering hot and soon they’d enter a desert. So far it wasn’t as bad as the jungle had been when they’d traveled with Tabithia. Aeros, his captain, had been fumb
ling all over himself trying to secure her on that trip, but this land reminded him of that dense jungle. Dry in some places, steaming hot in others. The brook was at least cool, he guessed by the mountains that fed it. He longed for the icy caps he could see during the day. If only they would end up there, he might be able to make it. His sex drive always lessened in the cold outdoors.

  He chuckled at the thought.

  I don’t think a blizzard will cool what I’ve got going on for Maeve. The thought wasn’t amusing. It was worrisome. If she chooses another over me, then what?

  The jealousy that rose was far worse than the frustration. Another foreign sensation tightened his gut as if it were a dirty dish rag. A chill shivered along his arms and down his back. It brought a sickening sensation. Fear.

  * * * *

  Maeve tried not to startle when Stephano ducked under Lightning’s neck and grinned. She almost rolled her eyes. Instead she continued to brush the sweat off her mare.

  They’d begun settling down for camp earlier at night to rest the horses. The mountains were tough on them, and with the steady climb, they all needed to rest. Soon they’d reach the canyon, then cross the Yellow River, and after that… She thought perhaps five more days and they’d be at the last outpost.

  She worried what would happen during those five nights. So far every chance Stephano had seen to get her alone, he’d shown up with some ruse. She now didn’t wonder if he’d known she’d watched him all those nights before. She knew he had to have found out. From that night on, he’d changed.

  But so had she.

  She no longer wanted him. Oh, her body desired his, to a degree that left her feeling worried and scared. But she saw him for what he was now. A seducer.

  The smooth tone of his voice had probably dropped more women onto their backs than she’d ever meet in her lifetime. He was after one thing—her for sex. Nothing more. He was by far much worse than any of the men who had forced themselves on her. He wasn’t being drawn to her against his willpower to resist; and that, more than anything else, helped her combat the desire. She would mean as much to him after as she did to those men who couldn’t control themselves. Less even, she guessed.

  She brushed harder on a clump of Lightning’s hair, listening to Stephano cluck his tongue. He could be so much more. Why can’t he be?

  “Gentleness is how you work that out.”

  She refused to glance at him.

  Last night he’d tried flowers. Holding them behind his back, then whisking a bouquet of daisies out right in her face when she’d been walking back from washing. Romantic, until she’d sneezed. He’d picked the one flower that made her eyes swell and her nose run.

  The evening before that he’d caught her from behind and roughly told her things that were guaranteed to make a woman swoon, only he’d said them in such a practiced sensual tone she’d grown cold. She’d splashed him with water and marched off, leaving him shouting after her that he’d not finished explaining.

  Before that it had been his teasing by the campfire and ‘help’ with cleaning up, which had really been a way for him to rub up against her every few seconds. Instead of making her feel wanted, he’d made her feel…dirty. She’d asked Brennan to go with her to the stream, so she could wash before bed.

  She knew he still left the camp. But she shut those memories down, nailed the lid on them and fantasized about finding some man who wouldn’t mind what she was, would love her and cherish her and keep her by his side no matter what.

  Stephano moved so he was facing her across Lightning’s back. “How is your mare doing? She seems a little skittish. Needing her stallion?”

  She didn’t hold back from rolling her eyes. Stephano narrowed his. The one thing she’d learned not to do was challenge him, but tonight she was on edge. It had been hours since she’d been able to be alone. She was used to being by herself all day, only at night did she go to Evie’s and sing. She had to sing. Or…bed a man. But more than those two things, she craved time away from the constant strain of being around people. Brennan knew what she needed, and tried his best to keep the men with him while they set up camp, but Stephano always seemed to slip away.

  “Still not talking, huh? It must be hard…all those things you must be curious about, but unable to ask. A woman, she has a thirst to know things.” Arms crossed over his chest he leaned against a nearby tree. He waggled his eyebrows and winked outrageously. “Ask away. I’m alone. No one else will hear.”

  The temptation was terrible. She wanted to. Worse she had to turn away, bite her lip and remind herself why she couldn’t speak. There was so much she wanted to know about Stephano. Why he was a hero, but thought so little of women. Why he always rode on Ajax’s right. Why he sometimes would frown for hours. Why there was this pause in his voice right before he teased Garret. Or why he regarded Ajax with such attention whenever the warrior was with her. Alrick he merely tolerated. Darren he seemed to feel on equal terms with, but Garret he seemed to like, or at least feel the need to get a rile out of the man. Her brother he prodded with questions, continually driving Brennan to giving him narrow eyed glares that didn’t bode well for Stephano if he ever got lost. Brennan would probably rejoice.

  But more than all that, she wondered what Stephano dreamt at night. She knew what he fantasized about. Had watched him climax to images of riding her like a stallion mounted his mare. But it was his sleep, his dreams she wondered about.

  He often tossed his head and tensed in his sleep. Sometimes he woke with a rush and sat up, knife in his hand. If Ajax was on guard duty, he would mutter to Stephano in a language she didn’t understand. Stephano would always look to her tent, apparently seeking her out before he lay back down.

  He never knew she watched him, each night, unable to find sleep until the earliest hours of the morning. None of them, outside of her brother, knew. It was impossible for her to sleep. If she did, and had an erotic dream, if she even dreamt something passionate, the men would be aroused as well. She couldn’t chance it. Even now she felt weariness weighing her steps and her reactions.

  “Not interested?” He gave her a smoldering look, no doubt meant to make her swoon. She ignored him. “Interesting. Or maybe you are but don’t wish to say.”

  She ducked under another horse’s head, Blackie, and put the gelding between them.

  Stephano simply rested his arms over Lightning’s back and studied her face as if trying to read something there.

  “Let’s see. What would a woman want to know…? My shoe size? It’s extra-large, so is my appetite for the finer things. But you know this. How about my favorite color? Amber. The color of honey, rich, golden and seductive. Overlooked by most, but alas, I find it stimulating.” He was referring to her eyes, but she couldn’t help but look into his. They were lighter tonight, the swirls of color faded but the ring of black around the irises brilliantly contrasted with the inner, lighter green. It was difficult to meet his gaze, so she dropped hers by beginning to brush Star’s sweat streaked back.

  “Now, my sign is harder to tell. I never knew my birthday, but if we think about it, I’m most likely a Leo. Lion. Big, proud and strong.”

  She smiled, unable to stop herself.

  He grinned. “You’re probably a Taurus, stubborn as you are. Lions and bulls don’t seem a good fit, do they? But it’s probably not a good idea to base your match on the signs. I’m older than such things anyway.” He spoke in a curious tone as if he’d only realized that his muttering meant something. He focused back on her. “What? You didn’t know? I’m older than…almost everything.”

  Feeling oddly sad for him, she tucked her hair behind her ear and shook her head.

  “What? I’m not? Oh, I am.” He sighed heavily. “So is Ajax, older, even, so I don’t feel so decrepit. Alrick is fairly ancient, and of course the boys are pups, but when you reach our world, most of the immortals you’ll meet are prehistoric.”

  She frowned at that.

  “You won’t meet any of them, will you
? You’re not staying.”

  Surprised, she glanced toward the camp. Brennan hadn’t guessed such a thing, but then he didn’t watch her like this man did.

  “He doesn’t know, huh? Well, it’ll be a surprise, but how long can a brother hang around his sister before people start to talk, anyway?”

  She glared at Stephano. His wink and grin stopped her before she opened her mouth. Sweat broke out on her arms at how close she’d been to speaking.

  “It’ll be good to try out your own wings, but staying there? I wonder if you’ll be a jealous sister? But since you can’t talk, you can’t actually advise him.”

  The idea of Brennan finding a mate thrilled her. He would be so happy, so pleased to have a woman to care for. He would be a good father too. But what if she didn’t like the girl? What if she didn’t like how he treated her, or the girl treated him…? But if I’m here, and he’s there… I will never know her. Or their children.

  “Still, it might be worth your time to give our realm a try. What’s this place got, anyway? I mean, come on, you’re wearing the same gown you’ve been wearing since we met. I’m not saying it’s dirty, or you are.” Her face heated. She had other gowns, but when they traveled it made no sense to keep changing. “In fact, you smell sweeter than a bed of roses, but don’t you want new clothes? A hair cut? Your nails done?” She closed her fist, sure there was dirt under her nails. “How about a night in one of the most famous cities in our world? Diamonds on your fingertips and gold dangling from your tiny ears and slender neck? Such things are common in our realm.”

  She grimaced and went back to brushing the horses. He meant material things, comforts that were extravagant and costly. All she wanted was her home back, her flowered curtains she’d made with her own hands. The matching tablecloth for festival days. Her small garden. Rosie, her cow. The pretty stone path she’d lined with lavender. It led to the back of the house where Brennan stacked the firewood. Brennan had built a well for her there too. She wanted her rose bushes that circled it. She’d planted and tended them herself until they flourished into a splash of sweet smelling pink up and beyond to the twin peach trees nearby.