Page 86 of A Hunt Bound in Blood
I didn’t care how shallow it was. If I had to roll around on my stomach to bathe, I would do it and be grateful.
I hit the bank, threw down my pack and stripped off the borrowed leathers, tossing them in a heap to leave them or burn them, whichever was easiest. There was no way I’d be wearing them again. Then, finally, I jumped into the freezing water. It came halfway up my calves, so I dropped to my knees and cupped the water into my hands to pour it over my head.
The drake blood ran in rivulets down my body, and once again I cursed my inability to drink it. I’d been hungry before we’d walked out of the tunnel, but after our rush to escape the dragons, my body was craving more than a sip to recharge. My gums ached, and my stomach threatened to become a self-consuming void. Soon, it would pass into uncomfortable. At least we’d be making camp once I was clean.
“Feel better?” Cammon called from dry ground.
“Like a million gold pieces,” I replied. “Frosty, biting gold pieces.”
My hands trembled as I poured more water over my hair. Then I grabbed a handful of mud and set to work scrubbing my skin, working it in rough circles over my neck, my chest, my stomach. The blood came away, and with it all the days of rock dust from our journey under the mountain.
“Mind if I join you?”
I looked back at Cammon, who had removed his vest and was in the process of unlacing his breeches, and quirked an eyebrow. “Not at all. But if you think I’m having sex with you in this almost-ice, you’re mistaken.”
He frowned at the stream. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”
I laughed, and laughed harder when he stepped in and swore.
“How the fuck are you sitting there like this is normal? Is this a thing for you? Sitting in freezing fucking water?” He shivered and dropped to his knees beside me. On him, the water barely passed his muscular thighs, but that didn’t stop him from copying my approach and scrubbing himself down with mud. “I hate everything about this.”
“Has Mr. I’ve Explored All of Golthwaine and Can Survive with a Stick and a Piece of Twine reached his limit?”
“Careful, mage, or you’re going to wind up submerged in this limit,” he growled.
I cackled and finished rinsing myself off, as eager to get out of the water as I’d been to get into it.
I was braced for Cammon to grab me and pull me back into the stream, but he stayed focused on washing himself, and I had time to dry off and get dressed before he joined me. Thankfully, the vampires didn’t only have access to impractical leathers—which revealed just how much of a game Kalla had been playing by giving them to us in the first place—and I found a set of brown leather breeches with a long-sleeved dark green shirt that clung a little too tightly to my curves but at least covered my breasts from all angles.
Cammon returned, and while he got dressed, his outfit not too different from mine, I pulled out the map to take yet another look at Tersey’s route, praying that fresh eyes would let me see another way to access the next signpost.
Unfortunately, every path crossed right through dragon territory. The only way around it would be to skip this clue, and since I didn’t know where the next one was located, that wasn’t an option.
“Do you think Tersey hated all people, or did he just have a grudge against anyone who thought to go after his amulet?” I wondered aloud.
Cammon slicked his wet hair back as he peered over my shoulder, tugging on the hem of a black shirt that was too tight in the shoulders and snug around the chest. “I’m starting to think there is no amulet and this was his twisted form of entertainment from the afterlife.”
“Please don’t say that,” I said with a groan. “I’ll never live down the humiliation. Or the rage at someone I can’t take it out on.”
Cammon grinned. “Definitely the former. You’ll be hearing about it from me for the rest of your long life.”
I raised an eyebrow. “After you find another way to reclaim your crown, you’ll write me letters from Karhasan as an anniversary reminder?”
He winked. “To the date. Probably with some kind of horrible trap bundled in the parchment for old times’ sake. In rhyme.”
His words came in jest, but there was a dryness to them, an emptiness that caught me off guard. When I looked into his eyes to gauge the source of it, I couldn’t pinpoint anything different, and for the first time, I regretted that the temporary bond between us had lapsed. I wouldn’t have minded some insight into what he was feeling right now.
But his business was his business, so I stuffed the map into my bag, stood, and started walking.
We planned to set up camp and get a few hours’ sleep before we went after the signpost, so we followed the trail looking for a good place to throw down our bedrolls. As we travelled, my steps grew slower, more laboured. My lungs tightened, and every dry swallow scratched my throat. I focused on the trees, watching for any lurking drakes, appreciating the distraction, but the moment we stopped for the night, I dug through my pack for my red flask, relieved when I found it tucked in with the rest of my few recovered items. While Cammon collected wood for the fire, I drained the rest of the contents, alarmed when it took me no time to empty it. I peered inside to make sure I hadn’t missed any, then dug through my pack for my backup supply.
It wasn’t there.
I emptied everything out of my bag and pawed through each item, but there was no trace of the extra vials I’d so carefully packed.
Was this another prank of Kalla’s? Trying to get me to drink from Cammon again? A surge of rage swept over me before rational thinking took root. She wouldn’t have done that. There was a lot I didn’t know about true vampire culture, but the permanent bond was sacrosanct. Either it was voluntary, chosen by both parties, or you were an asshole. They wouldn’t have stolen my blood, especially if they knew the only food source when we left the mountain would be inedible drakes.
Had my backup vials been lost in the mutt attack? When we’d gone over the waterfall?