Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night

32

"Oh, no, no. I've seen this movie," Mariketa said when they came upon a wooden bridge hundreds of feet above a river gorge. The height was so marked, the river below looked like a thread. "And it wasn't a comedy!" She scrambled directly back into Bowe, then stiffened. Before she could retreat, he'd wrapped one arm over her upper chest and the other down to her waist.

He'd spooked her earlier—had known it was happening, even at the time. But he'd been filled with jealousy the likes of which he'd never known. And he'd been confounded that her revelation of loving another had felt like a booted kick to the ballocks.

Bowe didn't need to have Mariketa's love, he told himself. Just as long as he had her.

So why was he so envious of that faceless demon—the soon-to-be-dead demon who knew what it was like to be loved by Mariketa?

Now when she pressed back against him, as if for support, he gave her a quick nuzzle against her soft hair to praise her. "Mariketa, you're trembling."

"I'm petrified of heights."

"Rydstrom told me. Why this fear? Did something happen to you?"

"Yeah, sea level happened to me. As in, I'm rarely above it."

"Aye, then." Bowe asked Rydstrom, "Can we no' find another way across?"

Cade had just returned from scouting and answered, "Not without adding two more days."

Two days would be too late for him and Mariketa. He shot a look at Rydstrom.

"The bridge is sturdy," Rydstrom assured her. "These armies have been driving trucks over it. It's the way we must go."

Tera said, "All right, who's doing the obligatory thing with the rock?"

"What thing?" Bowe asked.

Mariketa said, "You know, someone drops a rock, and we all silently watch it fall while contemplating the plummet to our deaths?"

Oh, that rock thing. "Mariketa, there will be no falling. This will be safe to cross. There are even rope rails on the side. But we are doing this." She gave a muted whimper at his words. Knowing how important she found it to appear strong in front of the others—and rightly so in the world of the Lore—Bowe drew her aside. "How about I jog across the bridge to show you it's safe, then return to carry you over?"

She shook her head emphatically. "Y-you could be incrementally weakening it with every step."

He curled his fingers under her chin. "Lass, I will no' let you be hurt. Ever."

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Aye, you're acrophobic—there's no way you could have a good feeling about this. I'll just be right back."

"No, wait," she whispered, snatching his hand. "Don't go."

He waved the others on. "We'll catch up."

Tera said, "You okay, Mari?"

She gave a pained smile. "Ducky."

"Let me carry you over," he said again once they were alone. "Then you can keep your eyes closed."

"B-but both of us, together? You must weigh two hundred and fifty pounds."

"Look at the others," he said. Tierney was walking on the rope railing—and taunting her.

She narrowed her eyes. "Did he... he didn't just call me a skirt?"

"That he did."

She exhaled as if defeated. "Peer pressure always was my weakness." Glancing up at Bowe, she asked, "If I walk across the bridge by myself, will you follow me?"

Always. "I'll be right behind you."

"Really close," she said, then added in a rush, "but don't stand on the same board as me."

"Aye, noted. Now doona look down. Keep your eyes on Rydstrom's back. See, he's halfway across already."

"Okay." She gave a firm nod and reached for the railing. "I c-can do this. No looking down."

She was fear-stricken, her pupils like saucers and her hands shaking on the rope, but she still put one wee boot out onto the bridge. He'd known she was a brave lass, but when she took her first step, he wanted to howl with pride. Instead he said, "Was thinkin'. Maybe Lorekind would like you witches better if you were less mercenary."

"We are mercenaries!" she snapped without turning back.

"I ken that, but must you be?"

"For a thousand years, the House has been filled with mercenaries. That'd be like saying that people would like Lykae better if they were less wolfy. And let me tell you, you are very wolfy."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm rich so I can support you, kitten. I doona guess you've made too much money for the House."

Between gritted teeth, she demanded, "Why would you say that? And don't call me kitten!"

"Let's be realistic. I canna imagine you've been raking it in with your magicks, blowing up things the way you do. Does your coven have a money-back guarantee—"

"You're trying to goad me, to make me forget my fear."

"Aye. It was working. You're already halfway done."

"Tricksy, damned wolf—"

Birds shot from the canopy on both sides of the gorge.

Moments later, the earth rumbled. Everyone on the bridge froze in surprise except for Bowe, who hooked his arm around Mari's waist, locking her tight against him.

"Oh, gods! MacRieve?" she whispered in a tremulous voice, her palms glowing with magick, as if in reflex.

"I'm right here, Mariketa." In mere seconds, everything had stilled. "It's over. Do you hear the forest quieting—"

Another rumble. With her bright hands death-gripped on the rail, her legs seemed to give out, but he held her upright. "No, no, Mari, I've got you. Come, then. We can even go back the same way, if you'll just let go."

She shook her head wildly, her eyes mirrors.

"Mari, you have to let go—I doona want to hurt your hands."

A sudden surge of pressure built in the air. When he jerked his head up, he met eyes with Rydstrom, who had his brows drawn.

"Duck!" Rydstrom bellowed and Bowe just yanked Mariketa down before a boulder dropped directly over their heads. The force of it punched into the bridge, sending it rippling like a whip before rupturing it.

Looping his hand in the rope and locking his arm around her, he could do nothing but hold on as they swung like a pendulum straight for the sheer rock face.