Born of Shadows by Sherrilyn Kenyon
She raked a playful glance over his body that sent chills through him. "Don't let that go to your head. If it grows any bigger, we'll have to find a larger place to hide just to accommodate it."
He laughed and that amazed him most of all. He'd never been able to laugh about Teratin's PMS until now. Not even Shahara had ever been able to cheer him on the topic. Anytime her name came up, he went into a fume for days. Yet Desideria had done the impossible. "So are you another deranged woman out to ruin a man over forgetting your birthday?"
She picked at her food in a dainty way that was incongruous with her tough aura. He didn't know why, but there was something about her right now that was almost vulnerable. Something that called out to him and made him want to brush his hand through her hair and taste those moist lips and sample other, more lush parts of her body.
But she wouldn't welcome that and he would die before he ever pressed himself on any female. He only proceeded when they were jumping on him.
And yet it was hard to sit here and not do anything when she was so close to him that all he had to do was reach out and touer. Oh to have the ability and right to close the distance between them and kiss those gorgeous lips. Damn. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her. It was slowly driving him crazy.
She glanced at him again, then stared at a space by his side. "Birthdays are unimportant to my people."
"Because you celebrate accomplishments?"
She nodded. "Being born is a state of the natural order. Why should you celebrate something that happens to everyone and everything?"
That was harsh and it made him glad he wasn't a Qill. While he might not care about them as an adult, some of his best memories of childhood had been his sisters decorating their small house with signs they'd made for him. Of Shahara bringing him a small treat whenever she could. It was why he didn't sweat when people ignored it. Don't stab me in the back and we're all good. "Your people are seriously screwed up."
She arched a brow at him. "Like yours aren't?"
"Oh, I never said they weren't. We invent other ways to be total assholes to each other."
She laughed, then sobered. "It wasn't all bad though. Unlike my sisters, when I was little, my father would sneak gifts to me on my birthday and he always remembered the date."
He caught the way her voice softened as she spoke about her dad. It was obvious she loved the man. "That was nice of him."
"You have no idea."
Desideria fell silent as a surreal out-of-body experience came over her. She was sharing stories of her past with Caillen like he was an old friend. More than that, she became aware of how much physical pain he had to be in from his injuries and yet he managed to tease and not snap at her. He never took his emotions out on her.
Poor baby. And she appreciated his control. It meant a lot to her that he was being pleasant when he had no reason to.
She leaned forward and wiped at the blood on his bruised forehead. "Do you ever have a fight where you don't bleed?"
"All the time."
She held her hand so that he could see how much damage he'd done to himself with his latest run-in with the mugger. "Not since I've met you."
He gave her a napkin to wipe her hand on. "Yeah, you're like an unlucky charm for me."
Feigning indignation, she tossed the bloodied cloth at him. "You need to be nicer to me. Remember I'm the one who tends your wounds."
"Uh-huh. And if you're true to your gender, you'll salt it anyway and kick me in the teeth on your way out the door."
She scowled at him as her humor fled. He was serious with that comment. "Why would you say that?"
He cleaned away the remnants of his food. "Simple. Women only want to jump my bones or take my money. Outside of the bedroom, they don't really think that much of me and most of them are only after a quick take."
"Your sisters aren't like that. They love you."
"Yeah, but they think I'm mentally challenged. They still try to cut my meat for me most days."
That surprised her. He was without a doubt the most capable man she'd ever met. Why would they treat him like a child? "Really?"
"Yeah, it's the most screwed-up thing you've ever seen. They really think I'm a kid until one of them gets into trouble, then I'm the first one they call to bail them out. Insanity, right?"
She didn't want to agree, yet he was correct. It would be weird to be treated like a child and then be relied on so heavily by the very people who refused to see her as an adult. "So what do your sisters do for a living?"
He rose to his feet before he stretched. The tightness of his shirt over his chest distracted her from the question as she became fascinated with the way his muscles played.
"Shahara's the oldest. She was a tracer until she married a couple of years ago. Now she runs a charitable organization for her husband. Kasen's my business partner and I use that term with all due hostility and sarcasm. She mostly sucks off my share of our profits by making me feel guilty over her medical condition."
"Which is?"
"Diabetes and a rare blood disorder. She's spent most of her life in and out of hospitals and you have to be really careful with what she comes into contact with or you can kill her--which has occasionally crossed my mind. And lastly there's Tessa." He let out a long breath as if the mere thought of her gave him an ulcer.
"What about her?"
"I love her, don't get me wrong, but she's constantly in trouble with loaners. Not that I can say much. I have a nasty tendency to gamble too. But I stop before I go into debt doing it. She doesn't. Since she was sixteen, we've all had to chip in to save her ass. Over and over again. But she married last year and seems to be doing better now. She works as an admin for the Ritadarion press corps." He came back to help her clean up her food. "What about you? What do your sisters do?"
"I only have the two still living. They either train to fight or plot ways to embarrass me in front of my aunt and mother--usually during training."
Caillen paused at the lackadaisical way she said that. As if it was so normal for them to attack her that she thought nothing about it. "Seriously?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Sad, isn't it?"
Yes it was. But he refused to say that out loud and hurt her any worse when it was obvious this topic bothered her.
She shook her head. "I don't know why they bother My mother practically hates me most days anyway."
"Why?"
Her gaze went back to the floor, but not before he caught a glimpse of how much pain she kept inside herself. "I'm only half Qillaq."
That stunned him. Her people were such isolationists that it was rare they bred with anyone else. There had to be a juicy story behind her conception. "Really?"
"Yes and they don't think much of me because of it. Everyone considers me tainted by my father's inferior blood."
"Which was?"
"Gondarion. He was a pilot who'd been shot down in battle. He crash-landed and was taken prisoner."
Caillen winced at the thought and the irony that Desideria had followed in her father's footsteps by crashing here--while dragging him along for the ride. "That's tough for both of you."
"You have no idea. Everyone stares at me like I'm a mutant. Like I don't belong. You have no idea what it's like to be judged for a birth defect you can't help."
"Oh not true," he corrected. "We're all judged for things we can't help. Whether it's our clothes, our birth, our social class or our appearance. I swear sometimes it's like people just look for a reason to hate each other."
"I don't do that."
Caillen snorted in contradiction. "I seem to recall the first time you saw me. There was judgment in those beautiful brown eyes when you looked my way."
Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of bright red. "I should say I try not to. But it is hard."
"It is indeed."
Desideria fell silent as she realized that Caillen didn't judge like that. At least he didn't seem to. "How do you not do it?"
He s
She frowned at his words. It was like he described someone else entirely. "You don't seem like you've ever been beaten by anything." He was too proud and strong for that.
He handed her another drink. "See that's the thing... You can't look at someone and tell what they've been through. The scars that hurt the most are never visible on the surface. You're a princess and everyone would assume you've had a life of luxury with servants doting on your every whim."
"So not true."
< height="0em" width="27">"My point exactly. And that's one of the things I really hate about being with my real father. His crew of people have turned me into something I don't want to be."
She was baffled by his words. "A prince?"
"No. That I don't mind. When I'm around them, they make me a judging snob. Sad thing is, it's not the poor I'm judging like they do, it's them."
That she understood more than she wanted to. "It's odd, isn't it? The poor hate the rich for having a life they think is easy and for the fact that they think the rich only got the money by screwing them. The rich think the poor are all rustics lacking manners and grace who are unwilling to work as hard as they do to get the money. Both groups see each other as thieves out to steal everything they've earned."
He nodded. "You're right and what I find most ironic... I've never been screwed over by anyone who was rich. Judged, but never screwed. It was always the poor or middle-class people I've known who've fucked me over for money. My poor friends have always been the ones who were jealous and petty. If I have two credits more than they do, they start in on the 'it must be nice' and then feel justified to tear me down because they think I'm getting a big head and that they need to bring me down a notch. People with money have too many other things to worry about than what I have or don't have in comparison with them. In fact, it's people like Darling, Nyk, Syn and crew, the ones who are seriously loaded, who've helped me while all my working-class friends have either abandoned me or tried to take what little I've earned."
"People see their own sins in others."
"Yeah, I guess." He returned to sit closer to her.
Desideria tried to remain nonchalant, but his nearness was so distracting that it was hard to focus on anything other than how much she wanted to curl up in his arms. "So what's the worst thing that's happened to you?"
He pulled away.
"Caillen?"
She saw the veil that came down over him, shielding him from what he obviously thought was a probing question. "I have many to choose from and really don't want to talk about any of them."
"I'm sorry."
He scoffed. "Don't be. As my bud Nyk says, life makes victims of us all." He took another drink. "So what about your father? Is he on the ship with your mom?"
"No. He died a long time ago."
To her shock, he put his arm around her and gave her a tender squeeze. "I feel your pain. It sucks to lose someone you love when you're too little to really understand why they're gone."
"Do you ever really understand?"
Caillen paused as he considered that. "No. Death sucks always."
Yes, it did. And she really didn't want to think about that right now either. Instead, she went back to something he'd said earlier. "Do you really think my eyes are pretty?"
He flashed her a wicked grin. "Baby, if it wasn't for the fact you'd slap me, I'd show you exactly how beautiful I think all of you is."
She blushed. "I am so not used to being around someone as outspoken as you." Or anyone who complimented her on anything.
"Yeah. I'm told I'm unique unto myself."
"That you are."
He pulled his arm back to his body. They sat on the floor, their hips barely touching. Her legs were stretched out before her while his were bent at the knees and he kept one arm braced on his leg. It was a decidedly masculine pose.
His eyes flashed as he offered her an odd half smile. "You are not what I expected the first time I saw you."
She gave him an arch stare. "I think I'm closer to what I appear to be than you are."
He laughed. "True. I'm not much of a prince."
There he was wrong. He was closer to one than anyone she'd ever met before. And that turned her thoughts back to what they needed to do. "Shouldn't we be leaving and getting--"
"Too much activity right now. I'd wait at least another two hours and then we'll try for it."
That made sense. "What did you find when you went out?"
"A lot of Andarions."
And he certainly looked the part. Though to be honest, she was getting used to his long black hair and those creepy weird eyes. Even the fangs were starting to grow on her.
"Does it hurt to eat with the fangs in?"
"Only if I bite my cheek."
She laughed.
His gaze turned suddenly serious as he went back to their earlier topic. "So what's the worst thing that ever happened to you?"
Her heart dropped at the unexpected question. Now she understood his defensiveness. But in her case, she had nothing to hide. She lived with her pain every day. "Watching my sister die in my arms."
The color drained from his face as he let out an audible gasp. "What happened?"
"Training accident." Her throat tightened as the familiar pang of grief choked her. "My aunt had been pushing us on an obstacle course. Shayla went to climb over a spiked barrier while Narcissa was fighting her and the rope broke. I can still hear her scream as she fell in front of me. I tried to grab her, but she weighed too much to hold. She slipped right past me and was impaled before I could stop it. I did my best to save her eve after she'd fallen. But the spikes had cut through her femoral artery and she bled out in a matter of minutes."
A muscle worked in his jaw as if he felt her pain too. "I'm so sorry."
She blinked several times, trying to banish the sting in her eyes. She wouldn't weep in front of him. It was forbidden. Still, the pain of losing her sister bit deep and she would give anything if she could have kept her from dying. To have that one moment back and to undo it. Why was life so unfair?
"You know my mother didn't even cry. When we told her about Shayla's fall, she glared at us and said that's what happens when you're incompetent. She said a real warrior would have been able to save herself, and if I'd been stronger and quicker, I might have been able to spare her. She claimed it was the will of the gods that Shayla died for her weakness. But I don't believe that."
"How old was she?" he asked.
"Sixteen."
He let out a low whistle. "And you?"
"Fourteen."
Caillen wanted to beat her mother for the cruelty. Not just in her sister's death, but for the coldness of not comforting Desideria. Telling a kid that it was her fault her sister had died in front of her... What a bitch. That was just so wrong. "What happened to your other sister?"
That too was forever etched into her memory. Even now, it played out in slow motion in her mind. "Narcissa killed her in a practice match. They were sparring and Cissy's sword strike cut her throat when she accidentally tripped over a piece of broken tile in the ring."
Looking back now, she wondered how much of an accident it'd been. If Narcissa was trying to kill their mother to rule, it would make sense that she'd sabotaged the tile and then used it to kill Bethali.
He curled his lip. "How old was she?"
"Seventeen."
His scowl left deep lines in his forehead. "Why were you using real swords for a practice match?"
She didn't comprehend his anger. "You don't use fake ones in battle. Why would you use them in practice?"
"Bec
His words offended her. "They're not training Qillaqs."
"Do you really believe what you're saying?"
She wanted to keep her bluster up and defend her people. But the truth was very different. "No. I thought it was ridiculous to kill them over simple mistakes and I hate that they're no longer with me. I like to think that when I have a child, I'll be kinder to her and protect her better." But she lived in fear every day that she'd wake up as heartless as her mother and sister.
As heartless as her aunt.
And that brought out another memory that she did her best to keep to herself. Yet, sitting here with Caillen, it came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it. "You know I had a brother."
His jaw went slack. "Really? What happened to him?"
"I don't know. He was born before I was and sent away. My aunt would use his disappearance to motivate us. She'd say that if we didn't please her or my mother, we'd be sent away too."
Her gaze burned him as all those threats and fear of what had become of her brother poured through her. "I've never told anyone about this before. Talking isn't exactly something we do and shared confidences are the worst sort of suicidal act. Whatever is said will be used against you at the worst possible time."
"Then why tell me?"
She shook her head as she tried to understand that herself. "I don't know. Weird, huh?"
"Not really. We're in a bad situation, stuck in a hole for a few hours alone. People do all kinds of strange things when they're under fire."
The way he said that... it made her wonder what experience of his had prompted it. "So what's the strangest thing you've ever done while being chased?"
"Strangest or stupidest?"
"Is there a difference?"
He paused then smiled. "Not really. My strangest probably was my dumbest move of all time."
"Which was?"
"I shot my sister."
She gaped at his words. "What? Which one? Why?"
He laughed at her stupor. "Relax, sweet. I did it to save Kasen's life so that I could go to jail for her."
It was noble.
Foolish, but noble. "Why would you do that?"