Page 70 of Edge of Oblivion (Night Prowler 2)
Wincing as he stood straighter, D said, “Here. In the infirmary. Lix got it pretty bad—”
“So what you are telling me,” Dominus interrupted, “is that all my Bellatorum were bested by these interlopers?” A frigid breeze swept through the room. With a sneer, he said, “I’d no idea you were all so weak.”
D stiffened and so did Eliana. Calling a warrior weak was the worst possible insult. Had it been anyone but the King, the offender would have been dead by now. She couldn’t understand why he was treating D this way. What was wrong with him?
With a clenched jaw D replied, “They got it just as bad as we did.” His voice turned scornful.
“Sire. ”
Their mutual enmity crackled in the air, raising the hair on her arms. As her father stepped forward with a snarl, Eliana made a split-second decision and stepped between the two bristling males.
“I’m sure the particulars of who injured whom can be sorted out later,” she said quietly, gazing calmly at her father. For her own selfish reasons she didn’t want to see done to D what had been done to Celian, and she knew his only chance was if she intervened. “The good news is the Bellatorum are alive, and the sooner they get to healing, the sooner they can go back out and take care of the problem.
So perhaps since Demetrius was kind enough to come straight here to inform you of the problem, he might now be allowed to go to the infirmary and have his injuries tended?”
A beat of silence. Her father’s wolf-eyed examination of her face.
For the millionth time, she was thankful he couldn’t read her mind. The impenetrable veil that surrounded her thoughts was another of her Gifts, one she secretly referred to as The Blessing because she had far too many dangerous secrets, secrets that other members of her colony couldn’t afford to keep.
Not the least of which was her forbidden fascination with D.
Finally Dominus smiled, then sent a flinty gaze to the bloodied warrior in the doorway. “Is there any imminent danger?”
D shook his head. “No. They don’t know where we are. They couldn’t follow us after the polizia arrived—”
“Polizia?” Eliana gasped. He might as well have said butcher. Over the past few years alone, six of her kin had been killed by the local police. It had been all over the newspapers; the outside world assumed some deranged exotic animal enthusiast was releasing captive panthers into the suburbs.
D nodded, his gaze averted from hers. “Shots were fired. We got out unscathed, but one of them may have been hit—”
“You’re hardly unscathed!” she protested.
Dominus said, “Unscathed or not, you and the rest of the Bellatorum will find yourselves well enough to attend the Purgare, Demetrius. Do I make myself clear?”
D inhaled sharply and grimaced, a look she had seen on a hundred different faces when her father was displeased. No one ever spoke of it—no one dared—but Eliana had a dark suspicion that her father’s mind reading wasn’t his most potent Gift.
“Perfectly,” said D between clenched teeth. He gave a stiff, pained bow.
“Eliana.” Her father turned to her with a small smile, some unknown intent burning bright in his eyes. “Would you be so kind as to accompany Demetrius to the infirmary? He looks like he could use some assistance.”
D blanched. “I’m completely capable of—”
“Of course,” Eliana said, cutting off D’s growled retort. She was anxious to make sure the warrior was all right, even more anxious to have a few moments alone with him, though of course he would practically ignore her, as usual.
With a clenched jaw, D bowed again, turned, and limped from the room. Her father drew her nearer, and they watched D’s muscled legs take him, haltingly, down the shadowed corridor.
“And see if you can get any more information from him,” her father murmured, eyes narrowed.
&nb
sp; She sighed, suddenly mournful. “I don’t know why you think I’d be able to. He can’t stand me.
Haven’t you noticed? He can barely even look at me.”
Her father looked pleased by that and also inexplicably amused. She understood the pleasure; it was, after all, forbidden for the two of them to be together. He was not of her caste and so there was no chance for them, and that’s how it had always been, forever. She’d resigned herself to it. But the amusement? What could it mean?
Still smiling, her father said, “Yes. There’s really nothing worse than wanting something and knowing you can never have it.”
And everything inside of her ground to a halt.
