Bloodguard

chapter 27

Leith

“I didn’t get to ask Uni… Do you think Neh-Neh and the baby are safe?” she asks.

I hope so. Soro and his guards were mere blocks away when we reached the city limits. “He wouldn’t have waited for us with the horses if she wasn’t.”

She nods, and something of a burden seems to lift off her shoulders. Her horse, Knight, trots silently next to Star and me. For such massive animals, moon horses can be shockingly stealthy.

“You seem close with them and their community,” I say.

Maeve grows quiet. “When a family of wolf shifters from Tanlita arrived, an odd infection plagued them and many in the surrounding area. I’ve never seen such an illness—fever with these odd patches of stripped skin. With knowledge from Neela’s people, I was eventually able to brew an elixir that helped them heal. But the shifters didn’t make it.”

“Damn,” I say. “They’re so hearty.”

Maeve plays with the reins, fiddling with the straps when she realizes how badly they’re twisted. “I know. But they were infected first, and I couldn’t come up with a remedy in time. I was able to help everyone else—specifically those in Uni and Neh-Neh’s part of the city.” She sighs but doesn’t seem to beat herself up about it. That’s good. A healer with perspective. Maeve really is the finest person I know. “I just hope Soro doesn’t seek them out.”

“Would he have a reason to target them?” I ask. I don’t know enough about Arrow’s internal politics.

“No. But…” She shrugs. “It’s hard to say. Soro doesn’t trust any of the newcomers to Arrow. The infection I just mentioned, along with a few others that were just as unfamiliar, sparked prejudice. If he had his way, he’d cast them all out and not let anyone in.”

That’s a sentiment that contradicts everything Arrow stands for. It’s long been a realm of peace, of opportunity, of equality…or so the stories go.

Well, I learned firsthand that most of that is bullshit, but this is the first I’m hearing of a high-ranking royal—a general, no less—actively campaigning to abolish open borders or to punish immigrants.

“Soro picks fights solely for an excuse to fine them.” She quiets. “Or worse, as you know.”

She means the “criminals” that they’ve started throwing in the arena with us.

“Vitor…as regent,” she whispers. “He could stop these raids. But he doesn’t, and I truly cannot conceive of why. I’ve asked several times. Instead, he’ll throw me a bone on something less controversial. He’s not the same man I once considered family.”

We ride into the Iamond family stables, dismounting and passing the reins to a sleepy attendant. I scratch my steed behind the ears and promise to bring her an apple in the morning.

Before we even leave the stables, Maeve is swarmed with chittering balls of fuzz. The estrellas reach into her saddlebags with grabby fingers, and Maeve—laughing, radiant with joy—pulls out the little trinkets she bought them at the toy stand today. A particularly large one delicately plucks a stuffed dog from her palm, sniffs it, then bounces away, tail high. Maeve is still beaming as we cross the lawn to the main house.

Candlelight flickers in every window of the manor, and moonlight doves huddle along the eaves, the brightening moon adding a sheen to their dark-purple plumage as we step onto the slate terrace and make our way toward the rear entrance of the manor.

Maybe I shouldn’t, but I take her hand in mine. Maeve stiffens at the contact but almost immediately clutches my hand as if afraid to let go. The way I hold her isn’t the same way I clutched and half dragged her during our escape. It’s gentle, intimate in a way I’ve never felt before.

“Leith, Vitor has his moments where he hears me so well and is so incredibly kind.” Her hold on me tightens. “And then he does something like tonight, where he turns his back and allows Soro to run amuck…”

I find it hard to believe Vitor is ever really kind. It’s simply a side he shows Maeve so what little power he grants her, she actually believes she wields. But they have a history, and tonight is not a night for scrutiny. She needs someone to hear her, so I do.

I look back, continuing to ensure that we weren’t followed. I couldn’t have defeated Soro and all his guards alone, but had they threatened Maeve, I damn well would have tried.

“You’ll need to increase security,” I tell her. “You know that, right?”

Whatever the status quo was with her “uncle” and his heinous son, I’d bet my sword arm that things have changed. Tonight was proof of that.

She nods.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Maeve says. “Can I tell you something without you taking offense?”

I shrug. “Probably not.”

She laughs, then bites her lower lip.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I paid for a messenger hawk to deliver your earnings after your last fight, like you wanted,” she says.

“And…?”

“I did something without your blessing,” she admits.

I square my jaw. “What else is new?”

She laughs in that way that lights her eyes despite the dimness. “It’s something good. I promise,” she tells me.

On an evening this dark, Maeve shouldn’t appear so exquisite. But like the sun’s, the moon’s rays are her friend, reflecting off the shiny strands of her loose hair.

“Oh,” she says. “I almost forgot. I’ll just be a second.” She opens the door to the manor and lifts an envelope from the kitchen table, leaving me in suspense. She returns to the terrace when she realizes that I didn’t follow her inside.

The soles of her leather slippers scrape along the slate stone. She extends her hand. “Here,” she says, practically bouncing in place.

I close the distance between us until she’s near enough to touch. But I don’t take what she offers, too engrossed in her gaze to spare a glance at her hands.

Maeve saves me the trouble of drawing closer when she inches forward to roll the ties on the front of my shirt between her fingers. “You mentioned your family doesn’t have much in the way of clothes.”

I tilt my head. “That’s right, which is why you sent them as much as you did when we made our agreement.”

“Well, I sent them more, and blankets, and a couple of children’s stories, too.”

“Why…” I hold out a hand. I know why she did it. She’s Maeve, and this is what Maeve does. She cares for those who need caring. “How did you manage?”

“The messenger hawks you told me about. Neela—you know Neela? Our grandmother troll you want to do naughty things with?”

Oh, she’ll never let this go. “Yes, I remember,” I admit. I also remember how Neela pelted me in the back of the head with an apple the first day I took a walk around the grounds. In her defense, it was a damn good throw, and that apple was delicious.

Maeve shrugs playfully. “Well, Neela secured several. I didn’t realize how much they can carry and decided to make it worth the trip.” She smiles. “When Neela paid the remaining charge today, there was something waiting for you.”

She offers me the small envelope.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“A letter from home,” she says.

Joy pierces my heart. My pause is brief. I attack the envelope containing the letter. Mother never learned to read or write, but Rose has learned enough to scrawl words onto a ratty piece of parchment paper.

Deer Leith,

Erth quaqes hav sterted heer. They hav us all skared. Wee receeved wut u sent. It helpt Dahlia. It helpt us.

Thanq u. We mis u n r blest by ur sakrifeyce.

All ower luv,

Rose

“I helped them,” I say. I look up at Maeve. “Dahlia is doing better.”

Maeve jumps and claps in place. “Leith, you saved your little sister and helped your family.”

I frown when something occurs to me. Maeve leans in. “What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s just…” I reread Rose’s letter. “Something is off.”

She tilts her head, questioning me but careful to avoid reading the letter. “How so?”

Again, I take in each word. “You sent my winnings from my last match.”

“Well, technically Neela had them sent.” She’s so close her arm brushes mine. “Given your family’s situation, we sent everything as soon as we could manage. What are you upset about?” she asks.

“It’s probably nothing,” I say. “But it usually takes longer to hear back from them. A month, sometimes two.” Perhaps Rose is getting faster and they were able to send this letter back with the messenger hawks. The thought makes me happy.

She bites her bottom lip. I wish she wouldn’t. I want to do it for her.

“I sent all the medicines and elixirs I had.”

“Thank you, Maeve.” And damn it if my voice doesn’t quiver.

“I don’t have any more aja mushrooms. But the moment they come into bloom, I’ll get them. I know a spot now. I promise—”

“ I know you will.”

She saved my baby sister.

No. Maeve saved them all.

It doesn’t matter if the terrace is dimly lit. It’s clear Maeve is blushing. I cock a brow. “Is there something I should know?”

“You mentioned earlier today that Dahlia never had a doll,” she says. “So, I went ahead and placed an order to get one made and sent to her.” Is this why it took so bloody long to pick out estrella toys this afternoon? She was ordering a custom doll, too. “One with big brown eyes and short black curls, as you described her. Oh, and with the green leather shoes you said she always wore—”

I haul her to me and kiss her. It’s not a hasty kiss. I take my time, passing my lips over her lush mouth. With this woman…I’m lost.

I cup the base of her head and encircle her waist with my free arm.

Maeve’s stunned pause is brief, and then her body melts against mine.

Her fingers slide into my hair, her lips moving in concert with mine.

Then there’s no time for thoughts.

There’s only the feel of her skin and the sounds that she makes, those little breathy moans that I feel down to my bones.

I’m lost completely in the feel and taste of her. The way my arm fits perfectly around her waist, and her pounding heart as it beats against mine.

I nip at her throat, and she releases a gasp. I silence it by feathering my lips over hers.

One pass.

Two.

Three.

That’s all the restraint I have in me before I devour her.

I press myself tighter against her, bowing her back, my tongue seeking more of her taste.

Her impassioned moans stir awake fireflies as large as my hand. They flutter up and out from deep within the garden, circling us as silver cicadas and glen-berry frogs greet the bright moon with a serenade.

I’m barely aware of them. Beneath the moon, the stars, the dark-blue sky, there’s only Maeve…