hauled her
outside. Her stomach heaved up its meager contents a moment later.
As she vomited, Artair held her from behind with one strong arm
around her waist as he smoothed her barbed-wire hair back over her shoulder.
Waves of nausea raced through her. With little in her stomach to begin with, she
was reduced to spasms of dry heaves. Artair never left her as he whispered
reassurances.
She tried to stand and brush his hand away from her waist. He
refused to move it. Instead, he tugged a linen handkerchief from the pouch
hanging from his belt, and gently wiped the sweat away from her forehead before
smoothing the cloth across her mouth. “’Twill be fine, Becca.”
She didn’t believe him.
“What’s the hang-up?” Megan asked. “I thought we were heading
to our new digs.”
Rebecca startled to find Sparks and Megan standing behind
Artair.
“We were,” Sparks replied, fishing a couple of wrapped hard
candies from her pocket. “Then Earth here decided to toss her cookies on the
grass.” She glanced over at Rebecca then handed her a peppermint.
Rebecca put it in her mouth with a grateful nod.
“You get carsick a lot?”
“Only if I’m in the back seat too long. Look, I’m sorry. I’m
just… I’ve had a hard… And they smelled so…” She shuddered. “I always get
nauseous when I’m nervous. I’m really sorry.” Feeling foolish and wishing she
had the strength and chutzpa Sparks and Megan seemed to have in no small amount,
she shut up and sucked on her peppermint.
“She gets shotgun from now on,” Sparks said to Megan and
Artair.
Artair scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be making fun. The lass
has been through enough.”
“Good God, Artair,” Sparks grumbled. “You’re going soft on
me.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest. “I shall show you soft when we reach camp and renew your training.”
Rebecca leaned heavily against him, angry at herself for
letting any weakness show and angry at all of her companions for putting her
through this ordeal. She wanted to go home, but the only thing waiting for her
would be revenants. They’d found Megan, after all. No, if she wanted to live,
she had nowhere else to go except with these people. “We can go now. I’m sorry I
got sick. I just—I’m not used to any of this yet. I won’t be a bother
anymore.”
“You’re nae a bother, sweeting.” Artair ran his hand down her
arm, sending traitorous shivers racing through her body.
“Sweeting?” Sparks asked, eyes incredulous. “Sweeting?”
“Enough, Frida. ” His hand fell away
from Rebecca’s arm.
* * *
Artair had to resist the urge to back Sparks against the
side of the van and scare some respect back into her. But that was an
impossibility. From the time she’d been called into service, there had never
been an ounce of fear in the woman. Hard as nails. A true Fire. Buried beneath
that rough exterior, Sparks had the ability to love. Not her Sentinel, nor her
goddess, and probably not one man for too long. But her sisters? Sparks loved
them unconditionally and would have given her life to protect any of the other
Amazons.
She was right—he was getting soft.
Just another reason to be moving on.
“’Tis time to go home. Sparks, let the van take the wheel,”
Artair ordered, his voice curt.
“Aye,” Sparks drawled. “Since I don’t know how to get
there.”
Megan gaped at her. “You don’t know how to get to wherever
we’re going?”
Sparks shook her head. “It’s home, but I don’t know the
directions. Hell, they change all the time anyway when the camp moves.” She
chuckled. “And the van knows the way.”
As they piled back in the van, Artair moved to a spot he could
keep his eye on Rebecca from where she sat in the passenger’s seat. Megan sat
across from him, eyeing him like a hungry predator. The newest member of the
group would no doubt lose some of her cockiness through heavy training, and she
needed to learn refinement and control. Yet Megan was an
outside. Her stomach heaved up its meager contents a moment later.
As she vomited, Artair held her from behind with one strong arm
around her waist as he smoothed her barbed-wire hair back over her shoulder.
Waves of nausea raced through her. With little in her stomach to begin with, she
was reduced to spasms of dry heaves. Artair never left her as he whispered
reassurances.
She tried to stand and brush his hand away from her waist. He
refused to move it. Instead, he tugged a linen handkerchief from the pouch
hanging from his belt, and gently wiped the sweat away from her forehead before
smoothing the cloth across her mouth. “’Twill be fine, Becca.”
She didn’t believe him.
“What’s the hang-up?” Megan asked. “I thought we were heading
to our new digs.”
Rebecca startled to find Sparks and Megan standing behind
Artair.
“We were,” Sparks replied, fishing a couple of wrapped hard
candies from her pocket. “Then Earth here decided to toss her cookies on the
grass.” She glanced over at Rebecca then handed her a peppermint.
Rebecca put it in her mouth with a grateful nod.
“You get carsick a lot?”
“Only if I’m in the back seat too long. Look, I’m sorry. I’m
just… I’ve had a hard… And they smelled so…” She shuddered. “I always get
nauseous when I’m nervous. I’m really sorry.” Feeling foolish and wishing she
had the strength and chutzpa Sparks and Megan seemed to have in no small amount,
she shut up and sucked on her peppermint.
“She gets shotgun from now on,” Sparks said to Megan and
Artair.
Artair scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be making fun. The lass
has been through enough.”
“Good God, Artair,” Sparks grumbled. “You’re going soft on
me.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest. “I shall show you soft when we reach camp and renew your training.”
Rebecca leaned heavily against him, angry at herself for
letting any weakness show and angry at all of her companions for putting her
through this ordeal. She wanted to go home, but the only thing waiting for her
would be revenants. They’d found Megan, after all. No, if she wanted to live,
she had nowhere else to go except with these people. “We can go now. I’m sorry I
got sick. I just—I’m not used to any of this yet. I won’t be a bother
anymore.”
“You’re nae a bother, sweeting.” Artair ran his hand down her
arm, sending traitorous shivers racing through her body.
“Sweeting?” Sparks asked, eyes incredulous. “Sweeting?”
“Enough, Frida. ” His hand fell away
from Rebecca’s arm.
* * *
Artair had to resist the urge to back Sparks against the
side of the van and scare some respect back into her. But that was an
impossibility. From the time she’d been called into service, there had never
been an ounce of fear in the woman. Hard as nails. A true Fire. Buried beneath
that rough exterior, Sparks had the ability to love. Not her Sentinel, nor her
goddess, and probably not one man for too long. But her sisters? Sparks loved
them unconditionally and would have given her life to protect any of the other
Amazons.
She was right—he was getting soft.
Just another reason to be moving on.
“’Tis time to go home. Sparks, let the van take the wheel,”
Artair ordered, his voice curt.
“Aye,” Sparks drawled. “Since I don’t know how to get
there.”
Megan gaped at her. “You don’t know how to get to wherever
we’re going?”
Sparks shook her head. “It’s home, but I don’t know the
directions. Hell, they change all the time anyway when the camp moves.” She
chuckled. “And the van knows the way.”
As they piled back in the van, Artair moved to a spot he could
keep his eye on Rebecca from where she sat in the passenger’s seat. Megan sat
across from him, eyeing him like a hungry predator. The newest member of the
group would no doubt lose some of her cockiness through heavy training, and she
needed to learn refinement and control. Yet Megan was an
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