Page 106 of Shielded Heart 1
He woke to find Samantha sitting up, naked, with her knees raised and her tablet settled over them. She glanced up from her work briefly to smile at him. It took him a few minutes of gentle coaxing to get her to share what she was working on.
“It’s not completely done yet,” she said, cheeks flushing, “but you can have a peek.”
Drawing her legs closer to her chest, she turned the tablet toward him.
He wasn’t sure what to say as he looked over the image; her statement about it being incomplete didn’t at all match what he saw. There was no question of the subject—he was looking at himself, sprawled out on the bed with his hair splayed across the sheet, naked save for the crimson swathe of blanket draped over his groin.
He might’ve mistaken it for a photo were it not for the slightly more saturated colors. The work represented a masterful understanding of color and lighting and contained surprising subtleties—the soft blue glow from walls outside the frame reflecting on his arms, legs, and horns; the realistic folds in the fabric of the blanket; the barely perceptible texture on his skin.
There was no telling how long he stared at it before she pulled the tablet back into her lap.
She said in a small, soft voice, “I know it’s not very good, and it needs a lot of—”
Arcanthus hushed her by pressing a finger to her lips. “Your drawings have been good, Samantha, butthis…this is something else entirely. It’s amazing. If thisis your starting point, I can’t even imagine how stunning your art will be in a year’s time.”
As only seemed natural, she set the tablet aside, and they made love again, the crimson blanket depicted in her painting tangling between their intertwined bodies. Afterward, they showered, dressed, and left the bedroom to eat. They went to the workshop once they were done, where Samantha settled atop one of the couches and Arcanthus resumed his tedious search.
Hours must’ve passed by the time Samantha stood up, yawned and stretched, and told him she was going to see if Sekk’thi was up for some more training. She kissed him and departed; it took a significant amount of willpower to remain in his chair and continue working.
Arcanthus’s frustrations intensified as the day wore on. Simply knowing Samantha was elsewhere in the compound, out of sight but relatively close, eased his darkening mood, but could not curtail it. He reminded himself frequently that succumbing to his irritation would only make everything more difficult. When Drakkal entered the workshop that evening, Arcanthus found himself grateful for the interruption.
“Any luck?” Drakkal asked as he sat against the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest.
With a heavy sigh, Arcanthus angled his chair more toward the azhera, kicked his feet up on the desk, and clasped his hands over his sternum. “Nothing.”
“Nothing from our usual informants, either—not that it’s easy to get anyone to give up information on the Syndicate. Trying to expand our network, but it’s slow going.”
“As it should be. The wrong question to the wrong person could bring some very unwanted attention our way.”
Drakkal grunted. “Definitely don’t need any more of that, do we?”
Arcanthus looked toward the displays on the desk, staring at the nothingness between them. “He’s like a damned ghost, Drak. There’s nothing on him less than ten years old, and all that does come up is just promotional material from gladiatorial bouts he was in back on Caldorius. You’d thinkhedied in that attack.”
“Guess he learned more from you than we thought, Arc.”
“Why couldn’t he learn the rightlessons?”
“Because right and wrong isn’t universal, and what wethought was right was also dangerous. We were doomed from the start. I don’t regret any of it, but I can understand why so many good fighters turned us down.”
Squeezing his fingers together, Arcanthus shook his head. “He’s not perfect. He’s ambitious, cold-blooded, cunning, and calculating, but he’snotperfect. He’s made a mistake somewhere, overlooked something… I just have to find it.”
“Remember, Arc—you’re not perfect either. None of us are.”
Arcanthus turned his head to find Drakkal frowning at him, green eyes dark and troubled. “Speak for yourself, azhera.”
Drakkal shook his head, though one corner of his mouth lifted in a begrudging smile. “How long have you been at this today, sedhi?”
Arcanthus shrugged. “A few hours.”
“Samantha came out of here at least five or six hours ago, and I know you were in here for a while before she left.”
“What’s your point? If I don’t keep looking, I’m not going to findanything. I can’t just remain idle knowing he’s out there.” Arcanthus lowered his feet and sat forward, throwing his hands out to the sides. “If he finds us first, he’s going to bring the fight to our home, and everyone—not just Samantha, buteveryone—is in danger. It’s not like he’s going to knock on the door and wait patiently outside until I go fight him one-on-one.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Drakkal growled, angling his chin down and lowering his brows. “But what good will you be if you run yourself ragged? That’ll hamper your searchandmake you worth shit in a fight.”
“I’m a dangerous fighter whether or not I’m tired.”
“So is Vaund. And we don’t know how much better he’s become after all this time.”
