Now, that contentment was nothing but pain.
Jack Robert MacLaren. Stronger echoes touched the back wall of the training room. Hes almost six. My husbands name was Caleb Andrew MacLaren. He was thirty-four when he was murdered trying to defend our son. I wouldve liked the closure of attending his funeral. Instead, I was strapped to a laboratory table. Dr. Aster had taunted me that no one would investigate the crimes. Our family has a great deal of influence, Mrs. MacLaren. He always used my married name. Salt in every wound.
I didnt say you could speak.
So stop me.
The beastly man stood. So damn tall. Audrey was a respectable five foot eight, but he dwarfed her. Is that a dare?
Im doing what I was told. Why do you care what I talk about? I needed a distraction while you slavered over me. The clothes were armor, like wearing a fortress. Assurance lined her bones with steel. Did that turn you on? For a defenseless woman to shiver and beg? If I grabbed between your legs, you servile, brainwashed dog, would you be hard? I hope not. I hope you fondle your limp little prick tonight and cuss a blue streak because you cant get it up.
Massive fists bunched along his thighs. His scarred lip twitched. Eyes narrowed to slits that glittered like deep brown topaz. A heavy pulse ticked at his temples, where his serpent tattoo stopped short. Branded by the Asters.
Disgusting.
I didnt say you could speak. It was no idle repetition. It was a prelude to violence.
Audrey smoothed back wet hair and met his gaze. If the Old Man wants me here, he wont appreciate seeing me harmed. I bet you cant risk that, warrior . She sneered the word. A warrior fights to be free, not to grovel in the dark. So hit me, throw me back in that cage, or get me some Dragon-damned food.
During combat, Leto wouldve laid waste to the insulting bitch. Hed have crushed her ribs before she uttered another infuriating syllable. With the collars temporarily disengaged, his speed and reflexesthe hallmark of Clan Garniswouldve made that possible.
He couldnt remember the last time a neophyte figured out how their relationship worked. Symbiosis. If this woman failed to entertain, Leto would share the blame. To lose face left him seething.
He checked his thoughts. There was always something to be done when a neophyte got lippyno matter how clever. No matter how fucking sexy.
Leto shut down that thought even faster. Just as he tried to forget the healed surgical incisions on her lustrous golden skin. A violation.
Get in your cage.
Go to hell.
You can stay out here, but I wont feed you.
Defiance dazzled from her bright eyes.
This time Leto was able to hide his renewed surprise that she knew how to pick her battles. The Tigony made no secret of their disgust for the Cages. They were the Tricksters of the Five Clans, more eager to wheedle than fight. They could storm fire from the heavens, yet few tapped into that potential. They simply talked too much.
Get in your cage, Nynn of Clan Tigony. Or Ill throw you in.
What happened to letting me have free rein of this . . . cave?
That was before you insulted me.
She shot a disdainful glance toward his crotch. Hit a little too close to home?
He pulled until her ear nestled against his mouth. She smelled delicious now. Fresh.
Scrubbed clean of the sweet, unnatural scent of decay that the lab refugees always carried. He never let his mind journey to Dr. Asters lab. Imagination was best left to techniques in fighting. But he couldnt deny what his senses told him.
Whatever happened there was simply wrong .
Leto used his grip to shove her into the four-foot-square iron cage. He hated being unprepared against any opponent. No one of her rank wound up in the Cages. The Tigony were practically royalty, ever since their days as patron gods to the Greeks and Romans. Combat was saved for the poorest, most desperate Dragon Kings. Or for those like Leto whod fought since early manhood to perpetuate their bloodlines. But to train the Honorable Givas cousin?
He threw the lock and knelt. Your identity wont make a difference when we train. What will make a difference is your gift from the Dragon. And I sure as hell know what that is.
My gift never manifested!
Save your breath.
He said it flatly, because hed seen proof of her destructive powers: Dr. Asters lab, with its roof obliterated. Her lie was obvious.
Unless . . . unless she had been subjected to the same procedure as his sister Pell. Leto had survived the disorientation and fear of his first manifestation, but his sister had not. Vigorous powers required the intervention of a telepath. Sometimes the process of installing unconscious restraints went badly. Very badly.
Leto shook off his foreboding. Time to get food. She would respond to food.
He walked away without explanation, unsurprised when her shouts followed.
Hed been confident in what to expect when first entering her training cell. Now, he knew what she looked like naked.
He exited at the guards discretion and walked between them toward the mess hall. He knew the turns and sloping underground tunnels well enough to walk with his eyes shut. He may as well have. Images of Nynn overlaid his vision. Waist and hips designed for a mans hands. Supple legs to curl around a mans lower back. Tight nipples waiting for a mans eager mouth.