Was this another lesson, that the male who expressed concern for her feelings was the Sceltie and not the man who had said he loved her?
Had Dillon ever said he loved her?
“There’s a coffee shop right over there,” she said. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and talk?”
Anger and something else she felt she should recognize filled Dillon’s eyes for a moment before he donned a social mask.
“Yes, let’s talk,” he agreed.
When they reached the coffee shop, Jillian folded her wings and crouched so that she and Khary were closer to the same height. ٭Can you tell time?٭ she asked on a psychic thread.
A hesitation. ٭Daemon is teaching us, but clocks are hard.٭
Jillian called in a ten-minute hourglass timer and used Craft to float it at eye level for Khary. ٭When all the sand runs into the bottom part, ten minutes has passed. You turn it over and let it run again. Ten plus ten equals twenty minutes. I need to talk to Dillon alone. Twenty minutes, Khary. Then you and I will go to the library.٭ And then I’ll go home and feel sad about the first boy I loved.
٭I am your escort! I am supposed to stay with you.٭
٭We’ll be in the coffee shop, a public place, in view of other people. Please, Khary.٭
He wasn’t happy, but he said, ٭I will wait.٭
When the last grain of sand fell a second time, he’d either be in the coffee shop with her or raise such a fuss he’d have every Warlord in Riada running to the shop, ready for battle. Yesterday that would have annoyed her. Today it gave her comfort.
Not many customers at this time of day, which was good. She didn’t want to be overheard. She was headed for a table farthest from the door when Dillon grabbed her arm in a grip that hurt and pulled her through the shop and out the back door.
“I know another place to talk,” he said.
“No. Let me go.”
The look he gave her was close to hatred—or desperation. “I don’t think so.”
Before she could pull away, he launched them on the Opal Wind and she clung to him. The Webs of power the Blood used for travel stretched through the Darkness. If he shoved her off the Web, she might not find another one, might fall through the Darkness and keep falling until her body died or her mind broke.
٭Khary! Khary, help!٭ The Sceltie wouldn’t be able to hear her while she was riding the Winds, but maybe, because he was kindred, some whisper would reach him.
He finally had a chance to turn his life around, and she was going to ruin it.
Terrence had tried to tell him that Jillian looking old enough for a handfast didn’t mean she was old enough to have a lover in the fullest sense. But how could she be too young and still so old she’d been at that last service fair?
She intended to end this romance. He’d seen that truth in her eyes. It was too late for him to focus his attention on another girl in the village, so he had to make this work, at least for a little while longer. Once he showed Yaslana that he wasn’t a cad or disposable entertainment, he could admit that Jillian was a pleasant girl, which she was, but he now understood the significant difference in their ages and felt that stepping back was the honorable thing to do.
But he needed Jillian to remain enamored with him a little while longer.
٭Yas! Yas!٭
About to launch himself skyward to meet Daemon at the Keep, Lucivar hesitated when Khary called him on a psychic thread. The Sceltie sounded upset and angry, never a good sign. ٭Where are you?٭
٭Coffee shop.٭
٭Wait there.٭
There was more than one coffee shop in Riada, but only one Sceltie currently down in the village. The kindred’s psychic scents felt different from humans’. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding Khary.
He forced himself to take a moment to consider. Then he called on a spear thread, ٭Rothvar! Meet me in the village. There’s trouble.٭ Breaking the link before his second-in-command could reply, he spread his wings and flew down to Riada with reckless speed.
He didn’t have to look hard to find the right place. The large ball of witchlight floating in the street near a shop was one clue. The number of Warlords converging on the shop was another.
The other men cleared a path for him as he backwinged to land near the shop.
“Lord Khary, report,” he said, choking back temper and worry to avoid scaring a young male who was, essentially, an escort still learning his duties.
٭Jillian wanted to talk to Dillon alone,٭ Khary said. ٭She told me to wait. She told me how long. But she’s gone, Yas. I can’t find her!٭
Rothvar strode up at that moment. “Prince?”
“Jillian is missing.” Lucivar ignored the murmurs of the men surrounding him and Rothvar. If that prick-ass Dillon had convinced her to ride the Winds with him, they could be anywhere. It was also possible they were just far enough away to elude a Sceltie who wasn’t familiar with the village.
He looked at all the men who were ready to stand with him and said, “Check the alleyways between the shops in case Lord Dillon didn’t believe I’d break his bones because of a tryst. Lord Rothvar and I will fly over the village and see if we can spot them.”
As the Rihlander men scattered to search, Rothvar stepped closer and said in a low voice, “Should I call the other Eyrien Warlords?”
“Not yet. Let’s see if we can find her. It’s only been a few minutes since Khary sounded the alarm.”
“A lot can happen to a girl in a few minutes.”
He knew that too well. “I’ll check the outskirts around the northern end of the village; you check south.”
Rothvar flew off. Before Lucivar could head skyward, Khary said, ٭Yas?٭
He looked at the unhappy Sceltie. “It wasn’t your fault, little Brother. Any escort would have given her time in a public place like this.” Not quite true. An experienced escort, human or otherwise, would have come into the shop and sat at another table to avoid hearing a civil conversation. “You stay here in case Jillian comes back.”
Khary took up a position beside the door. ٭I will wait.٭
Khary would wait. Lucivar didn’t. Every minute he delayed increased the chance of his girl getting hurt.
They dropped from the Winds and landed near the old cabin on the outskirts of the village. They could have walked here faster than the time they had spent on the Winds. Did Dillon think she wouldn’t recognize this place? Everyone who lived in Riada knew about this place.
The moment her feet touched the ground, Jillian tried to pull away from Dillon. He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, but it didn’t fill her with giddy warmth the way it used to.
“Hell’s fire, Dillon! Are you trying to get killed?”
“I just want to talk.” He gave her an odd smile. “We could go inside for a while. Nobody lives here.”
“We can’t go in there,” she protested. “That cabin belonged to the Queen of Ebon Askavi. The only people who go inside are Lady Marian and Prince Sadi.”
“Just on the porch, then.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles again. “If you loved me, you would want to spend time with me.”
She yanked her hand free. “Why do you keep saying that? And why is it always about me doing something to show that I love you and never you doing, or not doing, something because you love me?”
“How can I love you?” he snapped. “You’re too young, but you led me on, let me believe you were old enough for a handfast, for the things I need.”
“I never led you on,” she snapped back. “I liked you, and it was flattering to have your attention because you were more sophisticated than the other boys in the village. But you were a visitor, Dillon. I had no reason to think this was more than a summer romance, and Prince Yaslana wouldn’t have given his consent for anything more.”