Dark Warriors: A Dark Lands Anthology (Darklands) by Autumn Dawn Page B

to stop him.
    Curses flew through his head as Dagon went in search of Vana. Kynan had done his job too well. He’d be lucky if Dagon didn’t eviscerate him.
    He found Vana alone in the gardens, lying on a blanket beside a still pool. She was on her stomach, and she didn’t comment as he sat down beside her.
    Dagon stared off into the trees.
    “I don’t like your friend,” she said after a time.
    “Presently, neither do I.”
    Silence. Then, “You know.” When he didn’t answer, she asked, with pain in her voice, “Did you set him up to it?”
    “Not I, but I put a stop to it. There will be no more of that kind of testing. Those who started it didn’t realize how cruel it would become.”
    “It…hurt.”
    There was so much tension in her voice. Slowly, he placed his hand on her back. She flinched.
    He left his hand where it was. “I know.” Slowly, he rubbed his thumb gently over her spine while searching for some way to comfort her, to show her what she had gained without mentioning himself. He wasn’t certain she would view him as a great prize just then. “That boy you seem fond of…Roac. He found some trouble this afternoon.”
    She rolled over and looked at him.
    Dagon grimaced. “He and a friend of his were caught in the ducts above the women’s bathing chambers, spying on the women. More accurately, they were caught exiting. Someone had seen a loose grate and wondered about it.”
    Vana laughed softly. “Boys will be boys. What did you do to them?”
    He grinned, liking her reaction. “Had them stand naked in front of the women who were bathing. It seemed fair.”
    Smiling, she shook her head. “I’ll bet the girls liked that. There’s a couple near his age.” She looked intently at him.
    “He is too young for a wife.”
    “Some might say they are too young to be wives,” she said softly.
    Remembering a song he’d heard while on Earth, Dagon sang, “Strawberry wine. Seventeen. First taste of love…” and trailed off meaningfully. “You say one thing in your culture and do another. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel passion when you were their age. I saw the way they looked a Roac today; they’re ready.”
    Vana looked down and traced the weave of the blanket. It was obvious that she had no answer to that. When his big hand covered hers, she looked up, startled.
    “Adajah mene, do you feel passion?” he whispered, raising her hand for his kiss. His lips grazed over her soft skin, caressing, making her breathe harder.
    “Adajah mene. What does that mean?” Her voice was breathy, and there was an unconscious invitation in her eyes.
    His tongue flicked over her skin experimentally, making them both dizzy. “Adajah…one whom I admire, or adore. Mene is…more possessive. It intensifies the meaning, makes it personal,” he murmured, barely aware of what he was saying. The taste of her was electrifying, better than the finest adoc.
    “It sounds serious,” she breathed. Her lashes fluttered down as he drew closer.
    “It is.” His mouth grazed hers, toyed with the softness there. So sweet…
    A horrific crash jerked him upright, ruining the moment.
    “Sorry,” Devin said sheepishly, picking up the tray and dishes he’d dropped. “You didn’t eat any lunch, Vana, so we thought we’d bring you some.” He nudged Viej, who was struggling with the cups and insulated ewer he’d brought.
    Viej looked at them hopefully, his eyes jumping between the two of them like Ping-Pong’s in a tie-breaking match.
    Dagon’s eyes narrowed. Then he snorted and gestured for them to set their things down and join them. “Where are the twins?”
    Devin shrugged. “They dropped water bladders on the head gardener. He’s making them weed his moss-trees.”
    Vana rolled her eyes and sat up. “It would have been easier adopting puppies.”
    “I tried to warn you,” Dagon said playfully, opening a package of sour chips that had escaped destruction. “Daughters are supposed to be easier to