Page 48 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

My wings gave out, and Glory shrieked in my ear as we plummeted towards the pool. I slowed our descent as best I could, but that didn’t stop the force of our landing from tearing open our packs and nearly ripping Glory from my arms. Cold water surged over my head, and I kicked my legs and kept my grip tight on the mage as I broke the surface.

The air on my face, cold against the dripping water, was one more discomfort after the past few moments of awful, yet as soon as I processed everything, I couldn’t help but laugh. The rush of our escape, of the flight, of the landing. It was everything I loved about my chosen career—what made me feel more alive than anything else in my life.

Somewhere beyond the roar of the water and my own guffaws, I heard Glory letting out a string of curses, my name woven between them, but that only made me laugh harder.

“What is so funny?” she demanded. The lethal tone of her voice made me open my eyes to take in the sight of her.

She paddled to the edge of the shore where she could stand, though when she did, the water still came up to her waist. Her white shirt clung to her skin, revealing the nipples hardening beneath the cotton and black camisole. Her soaked hair had fallen out of its bun to fall around her shoulders, and water dripped down her face and over her parted lips.

She looked like a goddess. Like dessert served on a silver tray. I imagined what those lips would taste like. The cherry on top, maybe? Plump and juicy as I sucked the bottom one into my mouth and teased it with my teeth. As though my hands were already on her, I felt her curves under my palms. The weight of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her hips.

In the heat of my drifting thoughts, I realized the desire wasn’t all mine. Glory’s wafted around me along with her rage, just as spicy as I’d described to her but lined with that sizzle of lust that turned the meal into a gourmet feast. I could have stood there savouring it for the rest of the afternoon—if it weren’t for her rising horror that soon washed out both.

“My notes!”

Her attention was no longer on me. Instead, it was on the papers and books floating across the surface of the lake. Her pack had torn off her shoulders when we’d landed, and all her work was now a sodden, scattered mess.

My chest tightened as I realized what we’d lost. All her translations, all her notes about where we were going. Everything we needed to translate and decipher the upcoming clues was now drifting away with the current.

“No, no, no, this is awful. I don’t—what are we going to do?” she moaned.

She swam after the pages, grabbing as many as she could, and I rushed to help. I couldn’t feel guilty about what I’d done. If I hadn’t taken us over the waterfall, her notes would still be scattered, but our innards would be spread along with them. Yet I took enough responsibility to help her gather what remained.

Most of her extra clothes had already floated out of reach, but I managed to grab her burgundy skirt and a black waistcoat along with an extra pair of stockings. The pack with her tent, bedroll, and blanket had stayed together, though I knew she would have preferred to lose those.

What was left of Glory’s pack floated along the shore, and she swam towards it, jerking open the flap and hauling out the books and papers she’d carted all this way. The messaging crystal had survived, which was good. Her notebook with all her research came out next. The leather cover was drenched, and the pages inside were water-logged and blurred beyond interpretation.

“All my notes. All my research. It’s gone.”

Glory plopped onto the muddy bank, her expression stricken, her face a little green. I collected what I could find and piled it beside her. The sad remains of her belongings didn’t do anything to revive her, and I couldn’t blame her. Her clothes and other accessories meant nothing compared to her work.

“Can you salvage anything?” I asked softly.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears mixing with lake water as they ran down her cheeks, but when she opened them again, wobbly resolve stared out at me. “I’ll do what I can with what we have. I’ve read all these notes so many times I should remember a lot of it.” Uncertainty flickered across her hazel gaze. “But what if I don’t? What if I misremember a crucial detail and send us in the wrong direction? What if—”

I grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. The fear wafting off her, mingled as it was with crushing defeat, wrapped around my heart. I couldn’t leave her like this, and my reasons had nothing to do with the bond and everything to do with my own fears that the rest of our journey had become that much harder. I tucked my fingers under her chin and forced her to meet my eye. Then, injecting as much confidence into my voice as I could, I said, “You won’t. I doubt even Tersey understood his notes as well as you do. You’ll see us through.”

The despair in her gaze tore through me, and I cursed the bond for allowing me to become mired in someone else’s emotions instead of simply consuming them. Especially such uncomfortable ones. But as my words sank in and her distress faded into a fatigued resignation, my chest loosened. I’d continue to work on lifting her up. Without her notes, Glory’s brilliant mind was all we had left. Everything we were after hinged on her having faith in herself.

I nudged her shoulder. “Come on. That trip over the falls probably saved us a few hours. We can find a place to spend the night and see what we were able to gather.”

In the end, the answer was not much. Most of the contents of my pack had been washed away, including our recently acquired food and my cooking gear. The only thing I’d saved was my blanket—a drenched lump—and a map, the contents of which were mostly washed out though the general shape of the country remained visible.

I wasn’t devastated by my losses. Losing my pack was a risk I took with every hunt, so I’d learned long ago not to spend too much or bring anything of value.

Glory, on the other hand, had hardly spoken since we’d inventoried her things. Her books, maps, everything was gone.

She put up her tent with a blank-faced expression, as though her soul had been ripped from her body. She didn’t cry, didn’t curse, didn’t complain, but her sorrow clouded around her, tasting of damp earth and the air minutes before it rained. Much as it pained me to see her like this, I had to confess I had never tasted anything like it. Delicious because it was her, even if it was a flavour I never wanted to experience again. But there was something else beneath it, a spiciness I recognized. Beneath the grief, she was furious. I found myself wanting to bring the fury out to erase that hollow look in her eyes. Maybe it was the bond pushing me to ease her pain and resisting it would have been wiser, but I hated this unfamiliar ground. From the moment I’d met Glory, she’d been confrontational and abrasive or passionate about her knowledge. I wanted either of those versions back.

“I know this is not how you wanted things to go,” I said, “but it could be worse. You could have lost me to that giant.”

I flashed her a cocky grin, and the spiciness flared, but the ember didn’t catch. I shrugged. “I’m just saying, at least it was only the books.”

“Only the books?” Glory turned on me, her eyes blazing. “Did you actually say those words to me?”

There. The sorrow was still there, but it had dulled under the rage. Maybe more than I’d bargained for.

I turned my back on her to work on building the fire. “Paper and ink, Buttons. When you get back to the city, you can find more. Hells, you can probably write them yourself. No one will ever know you lost them.”