I lit a candle lamp and brought it over to where Drakor was studying one of the dozen or so historical maps I kept on hand in my rig. I sat down next to him on the floor.
“This is about where we are right now,” I said, pointing to the area above a ghost town known as Flagstaff a couple hundred years ago. I moved my finger across the map and his sharp gaze followed the northeasterly, diagonal path I indicated on the worn and brittle swatch of paper. “This is the old state border of Colorado. The area you told me about would be roughly around this corner. The roads between here and there aren’t the greatest. It will probably take me a couple of days to get you there.”
When he looked up at me, I felt a question burning in his unsettling eyes.
I slowly shook my head, answering before he could ask me. “I won’t be staying once we arrive there. I can’t. I’m human, and I wouldn’t belong.”
His black brows lowered. “What if I said I wanted you to stay? What if I demanded it?”
I smiled, unwillingly pleased by his possessive, imperial tone. “I would remind you that you may be king of the Strange, but I’m not one of your subjects.”
He reached over and cupped my cheek. “What if I told you that I don’t think I’ll be ready to let you go in a couple more days?”
I barely resisted the urge to turn my face into the warm cradle of his palm. With a strength I didn’t realize I had, I drew away from his touch and put my focus back on the spread-out map. “We’ll need to stop for fuel sooner than later. Usually someone in the villages has a tank or two that can be bartered for--”
“Nisha.” He pulled the map and cast it away, forcing me to look at him. “If you don’t accept my help, then where will you go? You can’t go back to your old home. Your old life is gone now.”
“I know,” I said. “I can’t go back to anything I knew before. Word of what happened tonight will travel fast. All I can do is keep moving now, figure out how to make my way. And I will. I’m not afraid of the unknown, Drakor. I know there’s bad in the world. I’ve survived the worst. I won’t run and hide from anything ever again.”
My eyes stung with memories from my past. I tried to blink away the tears, but he saw them. He stared at me, his strikingly handsome face tender. “What did you lose, dear Nisha?”
I shook my head, ready to dismiss the question before it could tear my heart wide open. But Drakor’s eyes were warm and caring, his hands comforting as he stroked my hair. The memories swelled inside of me until I couldn’t hold them in.
“My mother,” I began, then took a steadying breath. “She was killed when I was four years old. She and my father and I were living in the country at the time. I don’t remember much about that time, only that one day hellhounds broke into our home and chased us out to the woods.”
“Hellhounds.” Drakor’s expression hardened. “Ah, God, Nisha. They are vicious creatures, the worst of our kind.”
I knew all about them, of course, as did most of mankind. Hellhounds lived for blood sport and were most commonly employed as trackers. With their hideous double-heads, razor-sharp claws and incredible speed, there were few that could escape them--human or Strange.
“My father ran with me in one arm, his other hand wrapped around my mother’s wrist.” I blew out a quiet sob. “One moment she was with us, the next, she was gone. She turned back and tried to lead the hellhounds away from us. I can still hear her screams in my nightmares.”
Drakor gathered me to him and I hadn’t any strength to resist. I leaned against his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat. His arms were strong around me, his lips gentle as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“My father was destroyed over the loss of my mother. I think seeing me only made it worse because, with my black hair and dark blue eyes, I reminded him too much of her. My father blamed himself for putting her in danger, but he never told me what he meant. We lived in fear of all the Strange after that. He drilled into me that I could trust no one. That no matter what, I should always look out for myself.”
“And so out of your despair, you arose courageous and strong,” Drakor murmured as he lifted my face up toward his. He kissed me, long and slow and deep. When his lips left mine, I saw hot need in his gaze. “You are such a beauty, Nisha. You are as exotic as the night for which you were named.”
I reached up and stroked his bold, square jaw. “My mother named me in her language. She was called Jariat.”
Drakor brows arched almost indiscernibly and he gave a soft, amused-sounding grunt.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said, caressing my cheek. “It’s a very old name, from a very old people. A beautiful name.”
I rose up onto my elbow. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
He leaned down and kissed me once more. “I have been around for a very long time. One cannot help but learn a few things. But you . . . you are a marvel to me, Nisha. I am amazed by all I’m learning from you. I never dreamed I could care so deeply for a human.”
“Nor I, for one of the Strange,” I whispered, my heart aching with emotion, my body thrumming with desire.
Our lips met again, with a passion neither of us seemed able to deny. Drakor undressed me with maddening care, his mouth tasting each naked inch of my skin. His own clothing came off in a hurry, and then he was poised above me, his thick shoulders and arms bunched with muscles, his bare chest smooth as velvet under my roaming fingertips.
I put my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down atop me. His mouth claimed mine with fierce need as our bodies came together, hot and yearning. He filled me up, gave me more pleasure than I’d ever known.
We tossed about in a slick, delicious tangle of legs and hands, insatiable for each other, even after we’d both come down from a shattering release. He was wild and magnificent, and even if I’d spent a thousand nights in his arms I knew I’d still hunger for more. I hungered for all of him, and for all we’d never have again once we reached our destination and said our goodbye.
As we lay together side by side, he stared into my eyes with the same unspoken longing I felt weighing down my own heart.
“Nisha,” he murmured. “My God, I never expected you. I never expected to feel any of this. I shouldn’t feel it. You are human, and I am not.”
“I know.” I nodded, tried to smile even though it hurt.
He brushed his lips across mine, a sweet, tender kiss. “You are human . . . and I don’t care. I want to be with you, wherever you need that to be. I love you, and none of the rest matters.”
I swallowed, uncertain I’d heard him correctly. “You what?”
“I love you,” he said, and kissed me again, more firmly now. A claiming kiss that burned through me like fire.
I started to tell him that I felt the same way, but then I heard something terrible ring out in the distance. A low howl, coming from somewhere in the dark outside. Then another, and still another.
All the blood seemed to drain from my head and settle into my stomach, as cold as ice.
Drakor looked at me, his gaze stark. “Hellhounds.”