Bloodlust by Nicole Zoltack Page A

she ducked, the ball flying above her head. How she remained unharmed, the shield scarcely singed as it spared her back from the blast, Lukor did not know, but relief flowed through him.
    Until a fireball was launched in his direction.
    And another in hers.
    An object whirled toward him. The shield. Lukor plucked it out of the air and held it up. Ivy raced to him and jumped, her feet scarcely touching the shield before she leapt again. Twirling through the air, she hacked and slashed with her blade and chopped off one of the heads.
    The dragon roared and tumbled to the bottom of the cavern.
    Unfortunately, so did Ivy. She screamed as she fell, and it took Lukor a moment to realize she was shouting at him. Something about the shield.
    Instinctively, he threw it toward her. The shield spun around, the spike in the center unwavering, and she managed to land on top of it. Still spinning, although much slower now, the shield carried her to another bridge. Within a minute, she climbed back to his level and stood by his side, and they ran, hand in hand, to the proper bridge. Soon, they were deep within the passageways once more.
    Abruptly, Ivy halted and pulled back on his hand. "We're on the other side of the mountain."
    "Yes."
    "You can't tell me there isn't another entrance."
    "There isn't."
    "I don't believe you." Her eyes darkened ever so slightly as she tapped her fingers on her crossed arms.
    Lukor grinned. "Aye, I do know of one other entrance. However, that one is guarded by a hive of destroyer dreads."
    Ivy shuddered. Destroyer dreads had four segmented body parts. Their teeth were poisonous. Their long antennas caused paralysis to those they brushed against, and their wings sped them from victim to victim. That wasn't even mentioning their tail ends, with spikes that burrowed the dreads into their victim's skin, worming toward one's heart.
    "Perhaps, before this is all over, you will learn to trust me." He leaned against the polished stone, his gaze falling on the shield in her possession.
    "Aye, if you deserve it." She waltzed down the path.
    Her armored bodice had a few scratches in it now, the skirt hanging in tattered strips, clinging to her long legs. Still, she had a picturesque backside.
    Ivy turned her head to the side. "Are you going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to earn my shield?"
    "I never knew..."
    "Knew what?"
    He approached her, their bodies separated by an inch. "Come along." With a nod, he walked on.
    "Lukor..."
    The gentle touch of her hand on his arm stilled him once more.
    "Thank you," she said, her voice a strange mixture of gentleness and gruff, as if she could not believe her own words despite their ring of truth.
    "You are foolhardy and reckless and are going to get yourself killed."
    Her soft laughter echoed throughout the passageway. "Thank you again."
    "Only a barbarian would take that as a compliment."
    "If you don't start leading, I'm going to find myself a meal. I'm hungry for some more pig meat."
    "You try my patience." He growled, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat.
    "And you mine."
    Lukor stalked off but could not bring himself to walk swiftly. He was stalling.
    Because he knew that she would soon be leaving him. But why should that matter to him? She meant nothing to him. A key to ensuring the ends to her miserable race.
    Yet twice she had been enthralled, in the throes of Bloodlust, in his presence, and twice he had endured.
    It would be unwise to attempt surviving a third round. Better to help her and flee, set off a chain of events that would ensure the goliaths would join the trolls. His goal 'twas all he needed to concentrate on. That and nothing else.

 
     

    When Lukor increased his pace, Ivy easily kept up with him. Probably wants to hurry and get his shield.
    The notion that she would soon be parting from his company, and lack her shield, did not sit well with her. Barbadia was a good distance away. With no one to converse with, the journey would be