Page 27

“You’re gonna miss it this time,” Aurora yelled from her perch between the columns of the terrace.

Rhaego twisted the ball of his foot into the grass, fingers tensed on his snare. “That was your claim last time as well,” he called up to her.

She smirked and disappeared into the terrace out of sight. Rhaego grinned, senses homing in for any glimmer of activity. Long moments passed, the gentle twittering of birds, rustling leaves, and the distant trickle of their den’s stream the only sounds to be heard.

A flash of silver sailed through the air from between the columns, and his snare flew. The object was small and not a color he’d been expecting, but that only delayed him for a split second. A moment longer and the snare would clutch around dead air, the silver object plummeting over the edge of their cliff, lost to the fjord.

The weighted tip of the snare curled, and he flicked his wrist, expertly activating the magnetic pulse that would draw his snare to lock onto whatever object lay within its boundaries. He grinned as the object halted, and his smile grew painful at the sound of cheering from his ardent supporter waiting in her turret.

They’d been playing this game for an hour now, yet her enthusiasm never faltered. She always burst into that loud hand-slapping applause that’d make any civilized Tuvastan wince.

“I really thought I had you with that one.” Aurora grinned, palms planted on the parapet wall, arms straight, the mouthwatering curve of her breast gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Rhaego dragged his snare in, brow lifting to discover the object she’d thrown. Taking it in hand, he peered up at his target and set off in a sprint.

“What are you…”

She gasped as he vaulted into the air a few feet from the turret. His foot hit the stone halfway up the side, and he used that momentum to launch himself up the rest of the way, claws flashing out to hook around the parapet wall.

Aurora grinned down at him. “There are stairs you know.”

He held on to the lip of the parapet with one hand, feet planted on the vertical wall of stone below. “This”—he lifted the silver deralja pipe she’d hurled over a cliff—“is a valuable item.”

She hiked one shoulder. “I ran out of fruit. Besides…” Bending at the hips and resting her forearms against the wall, she leaned in close, face within reach and hair cascading over her shoulder. “I knew you’d catch it.”

Aurora’s praise did something funny to his stomach. Each compliment tickled his fever, making it snap and crackle merrily in his gut. Suppressing it took constant effort.

She knelt down and pressed a brief kiss to his mouth. The movement was so fast he only registered what was happening after it was over. But the touch was new and exotic, and his fever took notice instantly. The crackle transformed into a blaze.

The sound of clattering metal snapped his focus into place. It was only then that he saw his hand resting on the snare at his hip, the deralja pipe forgotten on the grass below. Aurora stared at his hand, brow arched.

His skin flamed with embarrassment. “Apologies.” He swallowed. “As the heat approaches my fever becomes more difficult to control.”

She murmured some words of forgiveness, but he was too distracted sliding down the turret to hear them properly. The heat was still nearly two weeks away. It was too soon to be fever-stricken from a brush of lips, even if it had only lasted for a moment. He’d need to keep a better watch on it. If he’d known the kiss was coming, he could’ve guarded himself against it better. Couldn’t he?

But next week? When the effects of Tuvastan heat ravaged him?

Rhaego dragged a hand through the hair at his scalp, dread ringing in his chest. His fever flared impatiently.

We need to escape before that.

***

Some new urgency had overtaken Rhaego after their kiss. Aurora’s heart had thrashed in her chest right before she’d done it, and she’d nearly chickened out. Ridiculous considering it was just a quick peck, but maybe she’d been right to be nervous.

The way he’d reacted was…well, she didn’t know what it was. A tremble had run through her when she’d spotted his hand inching toward his snare. Despite her change in opinion of Rhaego from the first time they’d met, she’d still shivered at the sight of the tool he’d used to capture her during the chase. But she wasn’t sure if the reaction was still fear or something else.

As she helped him prepare lunch, learning how to brown certain greens correctly so they didn’t grow mushy, she imagined him whipping that snare at her again. Eyes glowing, hair wild. Dragging her toward him, muscles straining.

Suffice it to say, she charred the greens.

His tech expert, Verakko, called after lunch as scheduled, and Aurora sat in for some of the conversation. She listened to him recount her intel from the day before and then use that information to narrow down possible densteads. They were pretty certain they’d gotten enough clues to know where Maggie was living, and they’d zeroed in on three possible locations for Diana.

Aurora had never done anything like this. High-stakes undercover operations were not her forte. But she tried to offer feedback where she could. Neither Rhaego nor Verakko ever seemed annoyed by her questions, answering each with the patience of saints.

They stared at a projected map of Tuva and went back and forth about which extraction point would be best.

“We can’t fly the cruiser right to our dens, can we?” It seemed too obvious a solution and Aurora felt a little dense mentioning it, but she did anyway.

“Transportation through the fjords is restricted to boats, carriages and authority vehicles,” Verakko said. “It’s the most secure zone in Tuva considering the fjord leads to the ocean and is a vulnerable invasion point.”

Rhaego sighed, brushing his forefinger over his chin in frustration. “There’s nothing Verakko can’t hack given enough time, but unfortunately that is the one thing we don’t have.” His gaze lifted to Aurora. “Marsol has begun showing symptoms.”

He didn’t say more, the dark energy dimming the air around him was enough for her to take his words as truth. “So we really do have to steal a carriage to get there?” She pointed at the map location of their den, then to the estimated dens of Maggie and Diana. “Then all the way over here?” She dragged her finger to the extraction point they’d decided on.

“Yes,” the two men said in unison.

“And how do we get a carriage? I thought Phirdo was the only one who could operate it.”

“They are dated models,” Verakko answered. “All you need is the print of the registered owner. Why don’t you call the male to your den, then take him prisoner?”

Aurora tried not to gasp, but her hand lifted to her chest. She didn’t like that idea at all.

“I could,” Rhaego deliberated. “But it’s risky. He’s devoted to his position. I don’t trust there isn’t some emergency function he would activate if given the chance. I think it best we don’t involve him. Would a cloned print work?”

Silence pulsed from the line as Verakko considered it. “It should,” he answered slowly.

“After the luncheon, I directed Phirdo to leave a few of the packages he transported unopened. I should be able to pull prints from them. As for the carriage itself, I could steal it if I scaled our cliffside and swam.” Rhaego’s forehead wrinkled, mind calculating. “I’m not a strong enough swimmer to make it in one night. It’s too far and I’m too heavy. I’d have to camp somewhere where the fishermen won’t spot me during the day, then swim in the dark.” His brows lifted, gaze darting over the map. “Perhaps even three nights to make sure we have enough darkness left to fly to the dens without being noticed, and then to the extraction point.”

“Would you be safe?” Aurora hadn’t realized scaling the sheer cliff isolating their den was even possible. That itself would take more strength than she could comprehend. How could he swim at all after that?

“If I took my time.” He dropped his hands between his bent knees, elbows on thighs and fingers steepled. “I’d be leaving Aurora on her own.”

“Is there a chance she’ll be visited while you’re away?” Verakko asked.

Rhaego’s gazed flicked to her. “They know I’ll be more and more territorial the closer to heat we get. I’d say it’s unlikely.”

Aurora shivered. Would he become fever-stricken more easily? Her body stirred at the thought. If his heat was anything like a rut for earth creatures, he’d become aggressive and easily aroused. She bit her lip. And I’ll be right here to help him out.

A thought struck her. “What about Maggie and Diana? Their husbands are going to be territorial, too, aren’t they? Will you have to fight them?”

His gaze remained trained on her, expression unchanged. The fact was obvious, yet Aurora had forgotten to take it into account. Stupid, now that she thought about it. What had she expected—they’d pull up to her friend’s dens and they’d come running out with their suitcases, waving goodbye to their smiling demon husbands?

But Rhaego had thought about this. And the way he was peering at her now told her he’d already decided how he was gonna solve that particular problem.

Silence pulsed from Verakko as well, and she gulped. “Maggie and Diana both said their husbands are nice. You’re not gonna kill them, are you?”

“No. It won’t come to that. I’m planning for only nonfatal injuries. Then I’ll keep them under with a heavy dose of sleep spray. It should last until we’re long gone.”

Aurora narrowed her eyes. “But you’ll be exhausted. Days of exertion,” she reminded. “What if you can’t fight them off?”

“Killing would be easiest,” Verakko chimed in, making her scowl.

“The reason we’re doing this is so an innocent man doesn’t die,” Rhaego growled. “I won’t kill two.”

“After the journey, you may need the strength of your fever to help you fight,” Verakko argued. “If you must fight while fever-stricken, you have to allow for the possibility that you won’t be able to subdue them with the finesse you usually have. I’m not saying you need to kill them, but I think you both should be prepared for the possibility it may happen.”

“A very narrow possibility,” he assured, gray eyes focused on Aurora as if he were beseeching her to believe in him.

She did. “Why don’t you give Maggie and Diana a bottle of the spray and have them knock the guys out?”

Verakko answered at once, “Too risky.”

Rhaego shook his head, seeming to begrudgingly agree. “Tuvastans have much faster reflexes than humans. And a husband who has managed to capture a wife is the best among them. If she hesitated for even a second, he’d react, and then I don’t know what he’d do. Call the authorities? Expose us all? I wouldn’t be able to get there in time, and even if I did, they’d be raring for a fight.”

Though Rhaego spoke as if violence was a necessary part of this job, she could see something deeper churning in his stiff jaw. It wasn’t in his nature to cause harm. How had he even become a mercenary in the first place?

Regardless of what he’d done in the past and what he was willing to do now, Aurora decided that he was too good of a man to have any more blood on his hands confusing his self-worth.

“If I can think of another way, would you consider it?” Though she knew Verakko was listening, she posed the question directly to Rhaego, holding his gaze. It was bold to think she could imagine any kind of plan that he couldn’t, but she was determined to try.

“Of course. I will always consider your advice.” Sincerity shone from every pore, cementing her resolve.