Copyright © 2007 D. Renee Bagby
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Malik lowered to his haunches in front of his bride. With a thought, he ended the shielding spell he’d erected around her before his attack started. Little droplets of the assailants’ blood fell to the ground—blood he hadn’t wanted to taint his bride’s skin.
The suffocating chill of her fear continued, enveloping his body. He had caused that fear. Killing the two men while she watched showed poor judgment on his part. He would make it up to her at a later date. His priority was her freedom.
Once she saw that he meant her no harm, she would stop being scared of him. And he could regain a measure of his original warmth. Malik remembered his father telling him that he would feel his mate’s emotions and she would feel his. He hadn’t known this was what his father meant.
He reached out with the intention of removing her gag. Instead he brushed his fingers across her cheek. She flinched away from him.
Her reaction made him focus. There would be time to get to know her feel later.
He removed her gag, then cupped her bound hands in both of his. She tried to pull away but he held her.
“Don’t hurt me,” she rasped.
“I do not plan to, my lady,” Malik soothed in a low, soft voice. Her language, while remarkably similar to Oteino’s, felt cumbersome in his mouth. He wanted to use his own but decided the magicks needed to bridge the communication gap could be better used elsewhere.
With a single thought, he melted her chains. His bride’s earlier struggles had torn the skin around her wrists. Blood seeped from her wounds and coated her hands.
It was simple enough to heal her the way he had melted her chains, but Malik couldn’t help but make the act more intimate. He brought her wrists to his lips and breathed the healing magicks over her skin.
His bride opened her eyes and watched him. He smiled at her. She looked confused.
Correction, she was confused. The emotion felt like itself instead of a temperature. Malik knew he wasn’t confused, so the emotion belonged to her.
The chill of her fear started ebbing away. He took that as a good sign. With slow movements, he rose to his feet and pulled his bride to stand next to him.
She snatched her hands from him and rubbed her wrists. The feeling of her confusion intensified. She looked down at her hands, then back up at him.
“What?”
“I am Malik of Ulan, my lady. Your servant,” he said with a bow.
“My… Huh?”
“And your name?”
“Ad…Adrienne. Adrienne Backett.”
Malik told himself to stop staring at her so intently. The feel of her fear had returned and she looked ready to run. He reached for her hand to hold her at his side.
“I should go home now,” she said with a tug of her hand.
“Would you leave in such a state of disarray?”
Adrienne looked down at herself and gave a cry of shock. She snatched her hand away from his and pulled her shredded shirt together over her naked breasts.
Malik swept out his hand. A cloak appeared out of nowhere and he placed it over Adrienne’s shoulders. He brought the ends of it together in front of her. She grabbed the edges of the cloak with a murmured thank you.
He smiled at her bowed head. “Such as this is my pleasure, my lady, as I would do anything to make you happy.” He stepped closer to her, which forced her to look up at him. He asked softly, “Shall we return?”
“Return? Yes, I need to go home. My parents will be worried. If you tell me your address, I’ll mail this cloak back to you.”
“You misunderstand.” His voice remained low and soothing. “I meant my home.” He slid his hand around her waist and pulled her close. The action indulged his baser needs. He recognized the lust he felt. What he didn’t understand was his urgency.
Even when he was new to sex he had never felt this anxious to be with a woman. Something about Adrienne made him want to forget all the rules and have her now.
“Let go of me. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Malik bent to place his other hand under her legs and lifted her effortlessly against his chest.
“I’ll scream.”
“You could, as it is your right. I do not see the merit in it and think you would be better served with rest rather than theatrics.”
“I’m not…I…” Her words stumbled to a halt as sleep claimed her.
He smiled at his sweet burden. She would understand once he explained the entire situation to her. He laid a feather-light kiss on her temple before starting back the way he had come.
His fingers brushed over the hilt of his discarded sword when he passed it. The sword faded and disappeared. It would return when Malik needed it.
“Freeze!”
Malik looked back at the man who pointed a light, and what seemed to be a weapon, in his direction. It wasn’t every day someone dared command him to do anything—or threatened him. The sheer novelty of it made him obey.
“Okay, buddy, put the girl down nice and slow and back away.”
“Are you the guardian of this place?”
“Yeah. I’m the ‘guardian’, buddy,” agreed the security guard in a humoring tone. He pointed the flashlight at Adrienne. “I want you to put the girl down.”
“No. I would not leave her to such an incompetent guardian. Your aid has come too late, as I have done your job for you,” Malik said. He moved his gaze to the two bodies the guard had overlooked.
The guard glanced quickly in the direction Malik looked. “Holy Jesus,” he yelled.
“I leave the rest to you, then, guardian. You shall leave the girl to me.” Malik walked back to the portal. The guard yelled for him to come back, but the novelty had worn off so Malik ignored the man.
The guard ran to catch up. He would be too late.
Malik closed the portal after himself.
A soft sigh from Adrienne made Malik pause and look down at her. For the first time in a long time, Malik felt the burden of his rage alleviating. He had his bride. Everything else would fall into place from this moment forth.