A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,51

in his shoulders and neck.

The mists weren't helping his tension.

He hated the feeling of not being able to see his enemies when he knew they could zero in on him without effort.

The mists themselves were odd.

They smelled all right, kind of like a musty sea spray, but they had a wet, cloying feel that clung to his skin yet didn't actually make his hair or clothing damp.

They swirled now through the ruins of some kind of structure he and Tarrys had literally stumbled upon a short while ago.

"Ungrateful, huh? You didn't have to drink this swill."

"And now neither will you.

This is the last of it."

"That's what you said yesterday," he muttered.

Though he teased her, traveling virtually blind for three days was making him as edgy as a cat on a high wire.

He'd ended up with a blasting headache yesterday.

Tarrys had offered to try to ease some of the tension in his shoulders to keep that from happening again.

"Yes, well, I didn't know I'd find another bush so soon.

An extra dose won't hurt you.

Now I'm sure you're completely cured."

Tarrys placed a soft kiss on his cheek, sending his protective instincts skyrocketing again.

He hated putting her in danger, but he had to admit, he'd never have made it without her.

If Tarrys was right, they should be close to the forest by now.

But how they'd ever find it in this soup, he couldn't begin to guess.

All he could do was follow her and hope she knew where she was going.

And pray he heard the Esri before they attacked.

"I was probably cured three bushes ago."

Tarrys laughed softly.

"You are such a complainer."

Affection surged through him and he flipped her over his shoulder and onto his lap.

"Who are you calling a complainer?" He tried to look angry, but couldn't.

Every time she spoke, every time she touched him, she eased something deep inside him.

Sliding his fingers into her thick, soft hair, he kissed her deeply because he had to, because he needed to ground himself in her taste and the feel of her in his arms.

He hadn't made love to her since they left the mines, afraid to let his guard down like that when they were so vulnerable.

But already he was suffering from withdrawal.

He might not need her to stay alive any longer, thanks to the carnasserie root, but he was beginning to realize he needed her in other ways, ways he didn't fully comprehend.

With another kiss, he set her on her feet.

"You tempt me, little one."

Tempted him.

Pleased him.

Healed him.

As he filled his water flasks from the pond Tarrys had called, his gaze fell on the beautifully carved stone pillars that lay at broken angles like a child's discarded blocks.

"What was this place?" he asked.

"I'm not sure.

There are a number of ruins similar to this scattered throughout the mist lands.

My old master used to pass this way every few years.

I've always assumed this was an old Esrian court before the mists made living here unpleasant.

But I don't know."

"You came through here with Baleris?" "No.

Baleris was my third master.

My first was the captain of the crystal mines.

When I came into my virgin's power, he sold me.

He could have taken it himself, but a virgin has much value in this world, so he sold me for a great deal of money to a passing nobleman.

Not Baleris."

"He raped you."

"He took my virgin's power, yes, but he made me want him first."

She wrapped her arms around her knees.

"That master was brutal in other ways.

He had a dozen Marceils, but forbade us from touching one another or speaking at all.

For nearly forty years, no words left my mouth."

He stared at her.

"None?" She shrugged.

"An Esri's control over his slaves is complete.

But we managed to communicate with one another without words."

Forty years.

"The son of a bitch."

How could anyone do such a thing to another? "That wasn't the worst of it," she said softly.

Charlie watched her, not liking the glimmer of misery he saw in her eyes.

"Tell me.

If you want to."

She looked away.

"It's unpleasant, Charlie.

I shouldn't have brought it up."

Reaching for her, he slid his hand over the back of her head.

"It's part of your past, part of who you are.

If you can bear to tell it, I can bear to listen."

The eyes she turned to him fastened on him as if seeking the truth of his words.

Slowly she turned away and began to speak.

"He enjoyed bringing the females into a frenzy of needing, painful needing.

Then he left us like that."

He frowned, remembering too well her desperation for penetration when they first reached the