Shadow Runners Page 9

  As Loki had pointed out, he’d done no more than given her the mark of intent—which just showed how the woman had disordered his mind! The mark of intent might have been enough to dissuade many from pursuing her, but he knew damned well that Sonja was the sort of woman that could easily persuade any number of males to ignore a full claiming.

  He was going to have problems with Loki. He’d seen the glazed look in his eyes. Loki was as mad for her as he was himself and he was not going to give up easily.

  As loathe as he was to consider it, he realized that there was a very good chance nothing short of killing the bastard was going to convince him to give up on trying to claim her for himself.

  They would have to find her first, however, he thought wryly and that was not going to be an easy task when she had fled back into the world of the naturals.

  He had one advantage over Loki as far as he could see, though—actually two! He and his pack had been relieved of guard duty—and replaced by Loki and his pack. Unless they wanted to face death for abandoning their post, Loki was tied for now to his duties.

  And he knew where Sonja was headed!

  Chapter Ten

  Considering the way her latest adventure had begun, Sonja thought wryly, the remainder of her journey had been tedious almost to the point of deadly boredom. She’d been tempted, repeatedly, to cross into the Shadow Lands to cut some time from her journey, but the suspicion that it might end up adding far more complications than she’d already encountered convinced her not to try each time the thought crossed her mind.

  Perhaps when she had finished her business …?

  Or maybe not. She wasn’t particularly worried that Jarek and the others would still be angry with her. She knew they would be but also that they wouldn’t hurt her because they were angry and that she could very easily soothe them and make peace. She’d managed, also, to make her peace with her first reaction to seeing them in beast form. They were what they’d always been, regardless of what form they took, and she saw no sane reason to reverse her opinion of them only because she found that particular form frightening. It was not something she thought she could easily grow accustomed to, but then she wasn’t likely to be called upon to do so.

  They certainly had their flaws, but overall she thought they were everything a woman could wish for in a man. It was a pity she couldn’t take what they had to offer and simply thank the fates for throwing her in their path, but she didn’t think that she was meant for such things.

  No doubt a simpler life would bore her to distraction in short order anyway, she comforted herself.

  No, she decided, it wouldn’t do to pass that way again. She knew them, or at least Jarek, well enough to know that he wouldn’t accept any lies she chose to tell him to explain what she’d been about. He would demand the truth and she was fairly certain he would find it unacceptable if he learned it and her despicable.

  It angered her in a way. She felt that she was doing a service to many people, whether they were aware of her efforts or not. And the chances were that even they would disapprove, regardless of the benefit to them.

  It was completely unfair, of course. She wasn’t a man. She couldn’t simply issue a challenge and best her opponent by strength of might as they could. She could not win at all if she didn’t use the weapons her birth had given her. It was completely unjust that everyone, men and women alike, considered it underhanded and cowardly to outwit and deceive, but then life wasn’t fair and no one with any sense expected it to be.

  She certainly had no reason to believe in fairytales!

  Dismissing the thoughts that were depressing her, she drew the hood of her cloak more tightly around her face as she entered the gates of the city with the herd of peasants heading inside to set up their stalls in the market and display their wares in hope of earning a shilling or two to eke out their miserable existence. The militia was conspicuous, bearing up the rumors that King Socorro was building his army but, as usual, they paid little attention to the peasants.

  She’d had to abandon her horse in the wood miles from the city, but she’d been fortunate enough to catch a ride on a farmer’s cart. Not that that was a great deal better than walking—in fact since they were transporting livestock, it was far from pleasant—but it had the added benefit of making it appear that she was a daughter of the elderly couple, or at least a relative.

  It was a relief, as well, to discover that she’d managed to arrive before King Socorro had left with his army to begin his campaign to add Thalon to his holdings. She wouldn’t be forced to devise a new plan. In truth and despite her anxiety, she couldn’t have arrived at a more opportune moment she discovered almost as soon as they’d reached the market.

  King Socorro was expecting to meet up with the army of mercenaries he’d hired near the border and the castle was in an uproar with plans to celebrate with a grand ball and banquet for the conquering heroes before they departed.

  Thanking the elderly couple for their kindness in giving her a ride, Sonja took leave of them. After wandering among the stalls of the market place until she found a vantage point to observe the men and women who’d come to look over the offerings, she settled to wait for her partner to appear.

  She anticipated a fairly long wait since she’d sent word that she expected to arrive nearly a week earlier and she knew Tanya would have been out to look for her every day since that time. She was weary enough from her travels, though, that she was perfectly content to sit and wait in the secluded little alcove she’d found between a building and a stack of crates containing squawking chickens. She thought she might actually have dozed for a short time before something aroused her.

  Chiding herself for her inattentiveness, hoping against hope that she hadn’t missed Tanya when she’d dozed off, she lifted her head to glance around the marketplace.

  A man near one of the stalls instantly riveted her attention. He was wearing the garb of a man-at-arms and the king’s colors and there shouldn’t have been anything about him to draw her attention, let alone hold it, but there was something about his broad back and muscular frame that sent a frisson of recognition through her. His hair was as black as the night, and long, hanging well past his shoulders, and yet there was nothing really significant about that. Men-at-arms generally hailed from peasant stock, and they weren’t inclined to fuss over their hair or worry about styles.

  And yet the healthy gleam of it struck a false note in her, struck an chord of recognition.

  She was imagining things, she told herself, and yet she couldn’t drag her eyes away. She stared at him until he finally turned away from the stall and searched the market with eyes that missed very little.

  Her heart nearly leapt into her throat when he turned and she could see his clean shaven face clearly. The hard, angular—infinitely appealing planes of his face were unmistakable and a warm tide of weakness washed through her.

  It was fortunate it did, for it prevented her from leaping to her feet.

  Jarek!

  Her mind chaotic, it was pure instinct that prevented her from giving herself away, that compelled her to lower her gaze and tighten her hold on the hood of her cloak.

  What was he doing here of all places! And wearing the garb of the king?

  She didn’t have time or the facility to make sense of it. When she glanced up again, she saw to her horror that Tanya had arrived with a group of women from the castle. Squeezing her eyes closed, she offered up a quick prayer to the gods and then scrambled to think what to do to avert complete disaster.

  Either the gods had deigned to favor her or it was simply a wonderful coincidence, but she discovered that Jarek had already turned and was striding away. Her shoulders slumped in relief. Watching until he’d disappeared, she straightened away from her position, waited until she’d caught Tanya’s eye and then strolled a short distance down the alley nearest where she’d been sitting. She did not have long to wait before she saw Tanya hurrying toward her. After glancing both ways down the alle
y, Tanya bent down, hefted her skirts and yanked a cloak from beneath it that was far finer than the tattered cloak Sonya had been wearing.

  She quickly discarded hers and flipped the cloak Tanya had brought her around her shoulders, jerking the hood up to conceal her face.

  “What took you so long!” Tanya hissed, her voice quavering slightly with nerves.

  “It’s a very long story,” Sonya replied.

  Nodding, Tanya looped her arm through her sister’s and began to walk briskly along the alleyway. “I’ll expect a complete and detailed report once we’ve found a place to chat safely.”

  “Is there any place within the castle walls?” Sonja asked wryly.

  “Not many,” Tanya responded. “His spies are everywhere, but it is a court. You know how that is!”

  * * * *

  “Well, you flushed our little vixen,” Thorne growled in disgust, “but she has scurried into the castle. What are we to do now?”

  Jarek stared at Thorne a moment in disbelieve. “You are certain that it as Sonja?” he finally asked incredulously.

  Thorne gave him a look. “My eyes might deceive me—though that it is doubtful—but my nose knows!”

  Jarek shook his head. “I did not truly doubt …. What the hell is she doing in the castle, though?”

  Thorne shrugged. “It gets more confusing. The guards knew her. How in the hell did she accomplish that? She could not have arrived before we did. I do not believe our calculations could be that far off the mark. Even on a horse, even at a hard gallop, it is simply not possible that she could have arrived before today. Truthfully, I did not expect her to have made it as soon as this.”

  “She is resourceful,” Jarek said wryly, “but I do not care for the implications. If the guards knew her then that could only mean that she is attached to the court—which makes me wonder what she was doing in King Vladislav’s court.”

  Thorne frowned. “The guards are mercenaries, hired only recently. I checked. They did say she was the Lady Raina—mistress of the king.”

  For several moments, Jarek thought his rage might get the best of him. He tamped it with an effort. “Former mistress soon enough,” he growled. “I would spank her ass for that when I lay hands upon her except that I think she might enjoy it far too much!”

  Byron and Arman exchanged an angry glance. “I do not think she would,” Bryon said finally.

  Jarek dismissed the warning growl in his voice and the angry glares of the others. “There is something afoot here that I do not like at all. It’s no secret that Socorro has plans to add Doral to his holdings. Sonja is liable to find that pretty little neck of hers stretched in a noose if we can not think of a way to remove her from harm’s way very quickly. There is no hope for it that I can see. We will have to try to get inside, as well.”

  “I do not see that that would take any great effort,” Rafe retorted. “We are dressed for it.”

  “They may be suspicious of strangers who do not seem to be attached to any group or known by any of the captains,” Jarek said dryly.

  Thorne shrugged. “So? We wait until nightfall and go in. We can slip past any of the guards without much difficulty and take out any that have the misfortune of seeing us.”

  “And drag her from the King’s bed and get out of the castle again, with her, without being filled full of holes?” Jarek asked sardonically.

  Turning red, Thorne glared at him sullenly for a moment, but kept his peace.

  “She came to the market,” Jarek said thoughtfully after a moment. “That might be our best bet—wait until the next opportunity and snatch her then.”

  Thorne squirmed a little uncomfortably. “She was not alone when she returned, nor with the party she had left with. She told the guard that it was her sister who had just arrived for a visit. It seemed to me that she went to the market specifically to meet the woman, whoever she was, and if that was the case she may not return.”

  Jarek glared at him angrily. “You did not think that was worth mentioning before?”

  Byron lifted his head and glanced uneasily around the tavern where they’d met. Encountering several curious stares, he glanced at Jarek and Thorne significantly. “If you do not take care, everyone will know our business!”

  Jarek and Thorne both reddened that time. After wrestling with his temper for a moment, Jarek fixed Thorne with a hard look. “Is there anything else that you forgot to mention?”

  Thorne’s lips tightened, but he considered carefully before he responded. “I did not learn anything else. I did not want to ask enough questions to be remembered or to arouse suspicions. I only mentioned that she was a beautiful woman and that I would not mind tossing her skirts. The guard volunteered the information I got, but as soon as he mentioned the king I thought it best to depart.”

  “What if it is her sister?” Byron asked.

  The other four men stared at him blankly.

  “I’m only saying that if it is her sister, we can’t simply snatch Sonja and leave her,” he added uncomfortably. “We must include her in the plan.”

  “You did not believe that tale!” Jarek demanded, disgusted.

  Byron felt his face heat. “That part may have been true,” he said a little indignantly. “We cannot simply dismiss the possibility!”

  “She came all this way to rescue her sister and take her into the lion’s den?”

  “I do not profess to understand what she is up to any more than you do, but I think it is significant enough that she mentioned a sister and now has met up with a woman in the market.”

  “A partner, no doubt,” Jarek said, “and up to her neck in intrigue just as Sonja is, but that is not our problem.”

  “It will be if it is her sister,” Byron muttered. “Sonja is not likely to forgive us if rescue her and leave her sister behind.”

  “Sonja is not likely to forgive us any time soon, anyway,” Jarek retorted. “That fool woman thinks she knows what she’s doing and she will no more thank us for interfering now than she did before. I am in favor of crossing that bridge when we come to it, however. First, we must keep her from getting herself killed, then we will finish the binding and once she is bound to us, she will come to her senses …. I’m sure of it,” he added a little doubtfully.

  “Unless of course I am right and the other woman is her sister,” Byron muttered. “In which case, she will not hold still long enough for us to finish the damned marking!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sonja had yearned for a bath and the chance to discard the disgusting clothes she’d bought from the rag vendor in Cleaf to disguise herself, but she knew there was no point in complaining that she had to settle for a bucketful of water and count herself lucky for having that much. Tanya led her along the secret passage with the light of a single candle until they’d reached an area near the grand salon, where the noise of the from the crowd gathered there would make speaking without being overheard possible.

  Settling the bucket and the three-legged stool she’d brought with her, she began stripping.

  “Out with it!” Tanya said impatiently. “I’ve been expecting you for nigh a week and nearly out of my mind with worry. What delayed you?”

  Sonja sorted. “Men—of course,” she said with a mixture of amusement and depression. “You should tell me your news first, though. What have you discovered?”

  Tanya waved a hand to encompass the passage. “The keys to the royal bedroom, as you see. I think your news must be more interesting, though.”

  “What is he like?” Sonja countered.

  “A vile pig!” Tanya snapped with sudden vehemence. “The world will be a better place without him, I assure you! My conscience will not bother me one whit!”

  “It is not your conscience that will be burdened with it!” Sonja retorted.

  Tanya eyed her assessingly. “I would not mind doing it myself in this instance. He is by far the worse I have encountered.”

  Sonja shook her head. “I don’t want to start down that
road. He bedded you. We do not kill our lovers.”

  Tanya snorted. “No, we get our sister to do it, although I’m not certain I have ever understood the point of that.”

  “It isn’t the same,” Sonja said stubbornly. “At least this way we know that we have never killed a lover. Conspired in his death, yes, but not taken the life of any man that we had also taken to our bed.”

  “And there is not one that we have been hired to assassinate that was more deserving that Socorro! You did not used to question my judgment. Why is that suddenly not enough?”

  Sonja shook her head. “Mayhap I am simply weary of the games we play. Sooner or later we will make a mistake, Tanya. You know that.”

  Tanya shivered but she didn’t dispute it. “We have enough to live a quiet life if that’s what you want. We could leave now.”

  Sonja swallowed a little sickly. “And who will suffer if we do? How many will die?”

  “That isn’t our problem, Sonja. Men make those decisions and, no matter what we do or don’t do, that will not change. Socorro is an evil man—I have seen enough in the time I’ve been here not to doubt that—but there is no guarantee that the man who takes his place will be any better. For the sake of my conscience and yours, I’ve always completely agreed with you that it simply wasn’t right to take a life unless, by doing so, it bettered the lives of many, but I can’t honestly say that we have done that and you know it’s true. As often as not, the man who takes his place is just as bad and sometimes worse.”

  Sonya focused on her bath while she thought that over. “Did he hurt you?” she asked when she’d done the best she could with her little pail of water and taken the linen Tanya offered to dry herself.

  Tanya looked away. “I am still breathing,” she said as lightly as she could.

  Sonja’s gaze sharpened, but the light was insufficient to show any signs of mistreatment.

  Tanya’s lips twisted. “He didn’t want to mar the face,” she said dryly. “Even the sickest hesitate to do that.”