MARK OF LOVE (Lovemark #3)

5. Quilla

Chapter 5

Quilla

The water felt good: crisp, refreshing, and cleansing.

I swam around probably longer than I should have, my fingertips growing wrinkled and pruned in the process. But Melaina would return any moment, and she’d no doubt have something snide and degrading to say if she caught me in the water without any clothes on.

Knowing I should move, I lingered, anyway, floating on my back and closing my eyes as I turned my face toward the warm beams of sunlight that streamed through the branches of the overhanging trees.

My mind drained of thought, and my bones went liquid and limp, enjoying the moment of peace. Yeah, this was nice. Lips lifting with a languid smile, I lifted my lashes and focused on the blue sky above.

He had blue eyes, my brain reminded me. I’d seen them clearly when he’d winked at me in the market when I was disguised as the little girl. They’d been such a brilliant, alive blue, too. Way too blue and pretty for a cold-blooded killer.

My brow furrowed.

The High Cliff soldier had been following me for a solid week now. I’d even shed three different disguises to avoid him, but he kept getting right back onto my trail. It was exasperating, and a bit frightening, if I wanted to be completely honest.

If this kept up, something was going to have to be done about it. I might actually have to kill the blue-eyed dreamboat. I shuddered over the mere possibility. I hadn’t yet been forced to kill anyone, and it wasn’t something I liked to think about. But now the thought was there, and it bothered me.

Tranquil time over, I flipped upright in the water and wiped wetness from my face before paddling toward the shore where the rock overhang was. Gripping a tree root, I hoisted myself up until my bare toes got a good grip on the natural stone steps that were worn into the ragged side of the rock. Then I climbed. Once I reached the flat, jutting top, I grabbed the hanging frock I’d left waiting for me, and I shrugged it on.

Then I perched myself above the brook and concentrated on wringing dry my long mass of hair. As water evaporated from my skin, I curled my legs under me and wiggled my bare toes in delight, giving them a little freedom.

No matter what disguise I wore, I usually had thick boots on underneath. It felt nice to have them out in the open air for a few minutes, able to breathe a little.

Behind me, a twig snapped. I froze with my hands still wrapped around thick locks of damp hair and forgot to exhale.

But what was that?

Had he found me again?

No. He hadn’t been anywhere around when I’d left the settlement. At least, I didn’t think he had. It was probably just an animal. Lord, it better be an animal. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if—

“So, this is what you really look like, is it?”

Shit.

With a gasp, I whirled around to find the High Cliff knight there, easing toward the rock boulder I sat upon. Seeing my reaction, however, he pulled up short and lifted his hands to show me he carried no weapons.

As if that mattered.

There was no way he came in peace. High Cliff soldiers only killed or captured Graykeys.

Motherfucker. Where the hell had he come from?

How had he found me?

Heart leaping into my throat, I gulped and casually dropped my hands from my hair to let them land on the cloak I’d been wearing earlier at the market. It still lay pooled in a heap beside me and had a handful of daggers hidden all over inside it.

As my fingers crept along, inconspicuously searching, the man offered me a tremulous, almost nervous smile.

“Hi,” he said, his lips spreading wider. A friendly greeting.

I blinked. Never before had an assassin offered me a damn salutation. Especially a kind one.

I had no idea what that was about until his gaze dropped, and lust swirled in his blue eyes as he took in the places that my frock had soaked up some of the wetness from my skin and made the white cloth transparent. I was definitely giving him an eyeful of my chest, especially of my n*****s that were still beaded and hard from my chilly dip in the stream.

Oh, hell no. If he thought he was going to get that before killing me, the sick bastard had another thing coming.

“I don’t think so, buddy,” I told him when I finally found a dagger. My fingers gripped the hilt, and I whipped my arm up, letting the blade fly with an underhanded flick of the wrist, aiming it directly at his head.

“Whoa!” He dipped to the side and just barely managed to avoid getting pierced in one of his pretty, blue eyes. He gazed after it as it embedded itself into a tree behind him. Then, with a low whistle, he turned back to me, his eyebrows lifted. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.” My fingers curled around the second dagger, ready to impress him again. I’d have to be faster this time; he’d had no problem dodging the last one. As I eased it free from its sheath and palmed the handle, I slowly rose to my feet.

The knight dropped his gaze to my hand and grinned.

“Though, might I suggest aiming for the body instead of the head when throwing a weapon,” he said. “You have more surface area there and better odds of hitting your target while still being just as deadly.”

“Good idea.”

I released the second dagger, and he swore fluidly as he jumped back, arching in his stomach to avoid contact.

“Yes,” he applauded, pointing at me with a proud grin. “Perfect. Maybe don’t try the same move twice in a row like that; you’ll start to become predictable and easily defeated. But that throw was spot on. Very nice.”

“New move, you say?” Stomping my foot down on the sword that had been lying beside me, I caused the hilt end to rear up toward my hand where I caught it and lifted it threateningly, ready to engage him in hand-to-hand combat. “Thanks again. Any other valuable advice you wish to give?”

Crouching into a defensive position with his knees bent and hands lifted, he ignored his own sword that hung from the scabbard at his side and merely offered me an amused chuckle. “I’m beginning to think any other fighting tips I give would not end to my benefit. Tell me, do you always try to kill people you’ve just met?”

“When they’ve been following me for a week after I’ve made it clear I don’t want their company? Yes.”

His brow furrowed. He didn’t like that answer, and it was the first time I’d seen him not look entertained since he’d started this cat-and-mouse game with me. “But how do you know you don’t want my company? You didn’t even give me a chance to explain my reasons for—”

“Reasons?” I snorted. “A High Cliff knight relentlessly pursuing me? I think I can ascertain for myself why you seek an audience.”

Still barefoot and my hair soaking wet, I charged, leaping off the boulder as I went. The High Clifter blinked, as if stunned and maybe even a little hurt and disappointed by my attack.

Which confused me. Hadn’t we just been talking about how I considered him a foe?

I swung, and he easily—too easily—ducked, swerving to the side. After a minute of fending me off with no weapon, he finally parried one of my attacks by nudging me in the back with his arm, right in the middle of my spine, which caused me to lose my balance and go stumbling forward, straight past him.

“s**t,” he muttered in distress. “Are you okay?”

Was I okay? Hell, no, I wasn’t okay. This guy was kicking my ass, and he wasn’t even fighting back.

As soon as I caught myself, I fumed and whirled back to him, more determined than ever to run him through, once and for all, and be done with this humiliating nonsense.

Tilting his head to the side, as if trying to read the thoughts in my head, he drew his sword slowly, making sure I saw it make an appearance. I got the feeling he was trying not to alarm me, and yet my entire system tightened with panic. I’d never been good at fencing. There was no doubt his skill far outmeasured mine; he’d been besting me for the last five minutes without even using his damn blade. I’d be dead in a nanosecond if he decided to fight back. But that wasn’t going to stop me from dueling until the last breath of air left my lungs.

So I rushed him, and he lifted his sword, but not to swing. Only using it as a shield, he blocked my every advance, merely defending himself, not once attacking, and he didn’t even sound out of breath as he began a conversation with me.

“If you want to get technical, I’m a Far Shore knight at the moment, you know—not a High Cliff one. I’m commanding the queen’s army for her. And before that, I was a Donnelley bodyguard. But I guess that’s neither here nor there, as you’re right, I did originate from High Cliff. What gave me away?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, maybe the fact that you’re trying to kill me,” I seethed.

“Kill you?” He laughed. “What in God’s name gave you that idea?”

Damn him. His blasé attitude only enraged me further. Men who hunted you down in order to wipe you out of existence should not smile so charmingly and look so damned happy about their bloody, murderous quest! This was no laughing matter. It was my life on the line.

And yet when I growled out my livid feelings and swung with all my strength, the bastard chuckled again and lifted his blade to keep me from beheading him. I gritted my teeth and kept pressing my sword forward, its steel only inches from his throat, but his sword successfully thwarted my victory.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Riddle me this, my lady, but if I were attempting to kill you, then why am I the one on the defense right now? In all reality, I believe you’re the one trying to kill me.”

“Don’t play stupid,” I snarled, finally relenting and backing off so I could consider him from a fresh perspective and hopefully discover his weak points. “You’re not going to convince me that you’re not here to end me.”

“I’m so very confused,” he confessed, truly shocked by my admission as he glanced around the forest as if trying to make sense of my words. “Why do you think I want to end you?”

There, I realized. Distracting him with conversation was his softness.

He turned back to me, his blue eyes glittering with promise. “I would die before hurting you.”

“Lies!” I sneered. “Why else would you—a High Cliff warrior trained enough to rise to the commander of the Far Shore army—be tracking me down?”

His cheeks flushed as if the question embarrassed him. But then he said, “Well, if you’d lower your weapon for five seconds and just let me talk, I’d gladly—”

“Never,” I snarled and attacked again. “High Clifters don’t just talk to Graykeys; they only murder them!”

He blinked stupidly before repeating, “Graykey?”

I swung, and he distractedly deflected the blow as if it were instinct for him to block me. Growling my frustrations, I blew the hair out of my face and cried, “Just stop acting already. I know what you are and why you’re after me. There’s no other reason—”

“But I’m not—” He squinted at me, then shook his head. “Are you saying you’re a—” Suddenly, his face went stark white. “Oh, holy s**t,” he whispered as absolute dread clouded his features. “You can’t be.”

His sword suddenly flashed forward and clanged against mine. When mine went sailing off, leaving me weaponless, I blinked, not prepared for him to unarm me so easily.

Dammit. That wasn’t fair at all.

Then he dropped his own blade and snagged my wrist.

I gasped at the contact. He was so fast, though; I didn’t even have time to struggle before he drew me forward and turned my hand over, palm facing up, so he could reveal the underside of my forearm.

My tattoo stood out stark and distinct against the paleness of my flesh. There was no denying its existence.

I bore the mark.

I was a Graykey.

“No,” he rasped, his mouth falling open and eyes widening with horror.

He dropped my arm as if I were diseased—or cursed—and then he tripped backward away from me, his gaze lifting to my face as if I’d betrayed him in the most forbidden and sacrilegious way possible.

“But you can’t be,” he repeated, shaking his head insistently. “How is this possible?”

Something wasn’t right here. If he hadn’t known I was a Graykey—and he clearly hadn’t—then why had he been pursuing me so persistently?

Now wasn’t the time to question it, though. I’d caught him off guard completely by my revelation; this was the best chance I had to defeat him.

Surging forward and striking like a cobra, I grasped his shoulders and simultaneously hiked my knee up, catching him right between the legs.

He sucked in a breath, froze for half a breath as he clutched himself, then he toppled to the side, wincing as he landed on his shoulder in the dirt.

“There’s the money shot,” he gasped, his face contorting in pain as he curled into a ball and tried to look up at me as he cringed. “Well done, my lady.”

“Thank you.” I nodded over his praise before swinging out and knocking the blunt edge of my sword’s hilt against the top of his head.

He grunted before falling unconscious, shoulder first to the ground on his side, where his body went limp and half his face slammed ungracefully into the dirt.

“Damn,” I panted out, bending at the waist to rest my hands on my knees.

Finally. Thank God that was over.

But what the hell was I supposed to do with him now? I blinked at the man sprawled before me, his back facing me, and a new fear clutched my gut.

I couldn’t just let him live. He’d been able to track me for a solid week, and it didn’t matter what disguise I wore; he’d been able to find me again every time. That meant he could in the future, too. If I didn’t kill him now, he could always pursue me, which also meant I’d have no peace, no sense of security, no rest. I’d just be constantly running. More so than I did now.

If I only knew how he’d been tracking me—and why—maybe I could still fix this.

But if he’d had no idea I was a Graykey—

You know what? The why didn’t matter. I didn’t care about his mission or goals. They meant nothing to me. He’d probably been lying anyway. And I just wanted him off my trail.

If a glamour couldn’t divert him, he must have a vial of blood from one of my family members, I finally decided, and he was able to track me that way. No idea how he could’ve gotten that, but I couldn’t come up with any other explanation.

So, really, all I had to do was find that vial, destroy it, and then he’d never be able to follow me again. Problem solved. Plus, I wouldn’t have to kill anyone today, either.

Double bonus.

Except the idea of searching him sent a flutter through me that made me pause. I’d have to touch him, all over, patting around inside his clothes and against naked skin to find the vial.

He was a little too handsome to be doing all that to, at least for my peace of mind. Heat collected under my own clothes. I’m not sure why his features made any difference in the grand scheme of things. But it definitely made everything feel so much more intimate to me.

I found myself focusing on the rounded curves of his ass and how perfectly his dark trousers cupped the tight globes.

The insides of my thighs tingled, and my breasts suddenly felt heavier as I imagined my palm flush against the silken yet hard flesh of his buttocks and slipping over the delectable hills, before heading up that strong back to trace every bump and dip in his spine, until—

“Good God.” Gulping, I glanced away, then circled to the other side of him so I’d be forced to stop ogling his ass and could see more of his front.

What the hell was wrong with me, anyway? If I couldn’t find that blood on him, I was going to have to kill this man. Mentally undressing and fondling him was not going to help me accomplish either goal.

And yet, instead of crouching next to him and starting my search before he woke to fight me again—which he really would fight this time, now that I’d stupidly revealed I was a Graykey, and his kind was designed to kill my kind—I just stood there, gazing at him.

Using the tip of my sword, I caught a piece of dark hair that had fallen over his face and was obstructing my view. Gently, I brushed it aside so I could see him better.

But wow. He’d really been formed majestically, hadn’t he? With his full mouth parted slightly as he breathed, I was even held enchanted by the brief peek of his top teeth I saw between his soft-looking lips.

I licked out my tongue over the top of my own lip and moved my gaze over the beginning of a beard that couldn’t hide the strong definition of his cheekbones and jawline. His eyes had been so bright and alive. They had twinkled with interest and energy when he’d looked at me.

I shuddered and shook my head.

A cut he’d probably gotten when he’d fallen after I knocked him unconscious bisected his eyebrow and was beginning to bleed. And dammit, even that made him look dashing.

An urge to lean down and kiss the injury away filled me, and I took a wary step back, intimidated by my own reaction to him.

Maybe I should just kill him now and be done with it. Anything to avoid getting up close and personal with all that wild beauty sounded preferable right now.

From behind me, another twig snapped, and then a new voice spoke.

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re going to mount him or murder him.”