A Girl Named Calamity by Danielle Lori

CHAPTER TWELVE

DOUBLE REALITY CHECK

My hands shook as I washed the blood off my body in the stream. A part of me hated Weston for how he used me. Another was grateful that those men couldn’t harm any other women. The last part of me was disgusted by my weakness.

I had no chance. None.

It showed me exactly what would happen to me out here if I were alone. A couple more seconds and the fortune teller would have been right.

“I want you to teach me how to fight,” I said as I turned around. There was still a red cloud over my mind and if he refused, I would kill him.

“No.”

I grabbed my knife out of the sheath and threw it at him. He stepped to the side and dodged it with an amused look. I looked for something else to throw, but there wasn’t anything but a small stick. And I didn’t want to look thatpathetic.

“I need to learn! Especially if you’re my escort. Who knows what will happen to me?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Have I let anything happen to you? Have you been raped? Murdered? I don’t think you’ve even been scratched.”

“I have a bruise on my tailbone from being pulled off the bed this morning, and my wrist is sore from an Untouchable twisting it while I tried to fight him off alone. So yes, I would say you let something happen to me.” When he didn’t say anything, I added, “You owe it to me after you almost got me killed.”

“I owe you nothing,” he growled, and I realized it was the wrong thing to say.

I tried again. “I wouldn’t need you to save me all the time if you just taught me some things.”

He was still for a moment, his face unreadable. When I thought he was going to refuse again, he grabbed the knife off the ground. “Your throw was embarrassing,” he said as he handed it to me. “You can either throw it by the handle or the blade. You want to throw this one by the handle.” My hopes rose when I realized he was giving in. “Wrap your hand around the knife and leave your thumb against the spine.”

I did what he said.

“Like this?” I asked.

He adjusted my grip, and I noticed the drying blood on his arms and hands. How did I end up here? In the desert while a bloody assassin taught me how to throw a knife?

“Take a relaxed stance and envision the knife sticking into the tree. Try it.”

I did what he told me and threw the knife. It bounced off the tree and hit the ground.

“You snapped your wrist,” he said as he headed over to get the knife.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied, my blood not yet cooled from the incident. And filled with frustration that I was elated he would teach me. He had almost gotten me killed, and yet he was essential for me getting to Undaley.

“You want me to teach you?” he snapped, and I bobbed my head. “Then quit being a brat and listen to me,” he growled. He had me practice it a few times, and when the knife stuck in the tree, excitement bloomed in my stomach. Maybe I could learn enough from the assassin to be able to travel alone if he decided to use me as bait again.

I stepped around the dead Untouchables, being careful not even to touch their white-clad bodies. “Where do these Untouchables live?” I asked as I mounted Gallant.

“They are raiders. They don’t settle anywhere specific.”

When we headed out again, I searched the land, not trusting Weston anymore. Although, I didn’t think I could have ever sensed something as far away as he did. I asked him how he could, but he only gave me that look that said, You’re annoying me.

My Sylvian shirt was covered in blood and dust, but I didn’t change it. It would have been too hot to wear anything else. My mind kept wandering back to what had happened, and it made my skin flush with an angry heat every time I thought of it.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I said.

He glanced at me but didn’t give me an ounce of assurance. The thought that it might be more dangerous being with him than being on my own popped into my head.

When he scoffed in disbelief, I knew he could read my mind.

* * *

We continued down the dusty paths for quite some time. I’d heard of the desert but never imagined I would see it. It was tedious in its dust and sand and never anywhere I would want to settle.

Although, I was enraptured as we passed by the orange canyon walls. Pictures moved on the rock walls, depicting people shooting arrows, dancing, giving birth, and many different scenes.

The beauty of it had me forgetting many of my problems. The pictures looked real enough that I would have believed they were happening if not for the too vivid colors and the scenes dissipating when another one took over.

“What is this?” I asked Weston when a dancing scene disappeared into a woman giving birth, sweat trickling down her face as her moan of pain hit my ears.

“A picture appears on the wall when a member of the tribe dies. How they died is what they are doing on the wall.”

“How do you die dancing?” I asked with wide eyes. Now I had to worry about dancing, too?

That damn old fortune teller.

Weston gave me a sideways glance, and the thought that he could read my mind annihilated all my other thoughts. How was I going to have any privacy? I thought about just telling him everything in my head. Shouldn’t he know everything, anyway? What if he didn’t? What would he do with the information? A series of questions that were essential to my decision flooded my mind. A series of questions that I was worried he was hearing.

I remembered how he had saved the boy in the tavern, but I had seen a different side of him. One I couldn’t trust. At least with the truth about the magic; my life was practically in his hands.

Unfortunately.

“I only saved the boy because you were clearly going to make a scene, and trust me, you would have been the entertainment for the rest of the night if you did,” he said.

It took me a moment to realize that he took that from my head. “So you saved me twice then?” If he was so bad, why would he save me?

“Three times,” he said flatly.

I scoffed. “I don’t count what happened back there. You put me in that situation. If you are so cruel, why save me?”

“I’m not a voyeur, especially to rape. Which would’ve happened to you in the tavern. You would have been screaming and thoroughly ruining any quiet in the place.”

My stomach rolled, and I looked at him with distaste. I didn’t know this man at all.

“And you never will,” he replied dryly, taking more from my head. This was going to be very inconvenient. He could read my mind, and I didn’t know anything about him, besides the fact that he had no conscience. It was far from fair, and I wanted to level the playing field.

“How can you read my mind?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you that after you tell me what the hell you are.”

I scowled. “First off, who. I’m a human being, not a what. And second, how do you not know that already? You can read my mind.”

“I would rather endure a fortnight of torture than listen to your simple-minded thoughts all day.”

There! He admitted it. I smiled at the small battle won, and then my smile fell when I realized his insult.

“Hey! My thoughts aren’t simple-minded. I would hate to be in your head.”

“Yea? Why’s that?”

“I can only imagine what’s in there. Something like Kill. Smash. Kill.”

He actually laughed. A deep laugh that I could feel flutter around in my stomach; his voice did strange things to me. Gallant nearly stopped as I unconsciously pulled on his reins while I watched Weston with wide eyes. Who knew he had a carefree side to him? A strange revelation.

I felt breathless as his eyes flickered with something dark, and a sly smile formed on his lips. He dragged his gaze down my body, and I could feel the heat from it linger on my bare skin. I shivered from the onslaught.

“You forgot one thing,” he said roughly.

My heart fluttered out of control. I wasn’t a stupid girl. I might have been inexperienced with men, but only because I chose to be. This was flirting, and my entire body flushed while I became aware of it.

It took only seconds to remember that he had just told me he only saved me from rape because it would have ruined the quiet atmosphere. That helped to calm my rapid heart rate. Did he think women were that easy? And then I thought about the women at the tavern. And realized it would be that easy for him.

He smiled. “Easier than that.”

I glared at him. “Stay out of my head.”

The damn inconvenience of him reading my thoughts had me trying not to think of anything while we continued down the trail. It gave me a headache, and I was relieved when he started talking so I could focus on something else.

Little did I know it would be worse . . .

“You want to volunteer as bait this time?” he asked.

“What?” A cold sweat covered my skin as I processed what he was saying.

“I’m giving you a chance to do this willingly, so take it.”

“More Untouchables?” I asked.

He nodded.

“What am I supposed to do?” I didn’t believe I could do this after what had just happened to me.

“All you have to do is pretend to be walking down the path while I hide behind those rocks.” He pointed to an area that I didn’t even look at, nervousness clouding my thoughts.

“How many?”

“Seven,” he said, unconcerned.

I blanched. “Seven? Can you even kill that many?”

“Why don’t you just worry about standing on the path and looking pretty?”

“Yea, I’d be pretty until they touch me, and then I won’t be so pretty anymore, will I? I’ll be dead!”

“They won’t touch you,” he said while he got off his horse.

“No, I won’t do it.” How could he even expect me to do this? Blood still clung to my skin from the last time I had been bait.

“If you do this, I’ll teach you how to fight. As well as you could, anyway,” he said while he gave my body a pitiful glance.

“You already agreed to teach me!” I said, feeling cheated.

“I never said I would teach you.”

“But you didn’t say you wouldn’t, and then you taught me how to throw a knife. What kind of message do you think that sends me?”

“Shut up and get off the horse.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not doing this. It’s so easy for you to risk my life, isn’t it?”

“You want an honest answer to that question?” he drawled.

I clenched my teeth. I hated how he couldn’t even pretend that he cared. It made me want to scream. “I’m not doing it.”

His gaze bored into mine. “You will do this, or I will make you.”

“I’ll scream that there is a Titan behind that rock,” I threatened, my blood boiling.

He smiled viciously. “You wouldn’t. Who would take you to Undaley? I can guarantee you that the Untouchables wouldn’t.”

“I’m not yours to use as bait! If they touch me, I’ll die.” I believed with everything that if I did this, the fortune teller’s omen would come true. My chest tightened with fear at just the thought. I wasn’t ready to die.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to decline,” I said, trying to calm the anxiety I felt. He only ran his thumb across his lip thoughtfully before heading over to my horse. I hopped off the other side. I walked backward while he walked towards me. “I’m not throwing my life away to satisfy your lust for blood!” I cried.

“You seriously want to do this right now?” he growled while he strode towards me.

“I’m not doing it!” I returned. I blinked and before I knew it he was in front of me, his body blocking out the sun. A hand was around one of my wrists and one under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Don’t fight me.”

His words physically hit me, and if he weren’t holding me close, I would have taken a step back. I had no urge to fight him. None. I looked up into his eyes, mesmerized. Such expressive eyes wasted on a cold-hearted assassin. I knew something was wrong. Felt it clench in my stomach, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Didn’t really want to.

“You will stand on the path until the Untouchables arrive. When they get here, you will pretend your horse ran off. You’ll act like a damsel in distress, and you won’t say anything about me.”

The words were like a punch, and I stepped back when he let me go. My stomach knotted while I did exactly what he said. My legs carried me over to the path while my mind screamed at me to stop.

I tried to stop my legs’ motion, but they were stuck in their destination to the path. When I was where I was supposed to be, tremulous thoughts of my imminent death flooded my mind.

I’m going to die.

Tears filled my eyes as the itch to flee consumed me, but I couldn’t do anything but wait for my murderers. I was stuck on the path like a virgin sacrifice, just as my grandmother had said. There was no way that he could handle that many men without one touching me first.

I didn’t even see him walk over to me through glossy eyes. He stood before me, his hand cupping my nape. I hated him. So much that I didn’t expect the next words out of his mouth. “Relax. Nothing will harm you. Nothing.” His hand was gone, and peace settled my mind like a blissful cloud, and the fist around my heart unclenched. I sucked in a deep breath as my tense muscles relaxed.

The sun was warm, and the breeze a perfect interlude. When I saw riders approach in the distance, I felt as I had when I’d sit outside the cottage with Grandmother, enjoying a cold drink and watching the sunset; as if my horse had just run off and these gentlemen would help me. They pulled up on their reins while looking at me and then around as if to see if anyone else was near.

“I’m so glad I have some help! My horse seems to have run off, and I’ve been walking for hours,” I said, the words coming out of my mouth on their own. The men dismounted their horses, their eyes only on me now. If I weren’t magically inclined, I would have felt like prey to these predators’ next meal.

“Well if this isn’t our lucky day,” one of the white-clad men said. I took in their clothes and realized they probably had many accidental deaths if they didn’t keep themselves completely covered. They could have even killed their horses. How inconvenient that would be.

I frowned. “Why is it your lucky day?”

The men laughed. “We just found a half-naked angel on the side of the road. What about that isn’t lucky?” one of the men asked.

I rolled that around in my naive, magically-enforced mind and my answer was pathetic. “Well, I’m not an angel. I can’t grant you wishes or anything if that’s what you want.”

They laughed some more. “I almost wish I could keep this one alive,” one of the men said as he walked towards me.

“Why would you kill me?” The information still not doing anything to disturb me. I saw the man smile underneath the white cloth covering his face.

“Unfortunately, that is the only way we can be with a woman,” he said.

“That is unfortunate,” I replied and meant it.

He walked closer. “I’ll be sad to see you go, Angel.” He took another step, and that was when a knife lodged itself into the side of his throat. His eyes remained on me as he fell to the ground. His death could have been a bunny running across the path for all I cared. The other Untouchables looked around in frantic movements and shouted in a language I hadn’t heard before.

I never saw Weston move, but he was now behind the men. A blur of movement and two more men were on the ground.

My relaxation dissipated, and I tensed when an Untouchable strode towards me. His gloves were off and every step he took closer, the more the itch to flee consumed me. My mind was in a fog, but I could feel panic and terror trying to push their way in. The man froze. His determined dark eyes morphed into a hazy cloud of disbelief. His stare was blank before he crumpled to the ground, a red pool of liquid growing on his back, a knife in the center.

Weston dispatched the last man behind him with an elbow to his white-clad face and then a slash to the neck as he turned around. Seven men lay between us. Blood seemed to be the new ground. I stood on the dusty path completely numb. Too many emotions mixed together and created a blah feeling, as it was with mixing too many colors of paint.

I stood still for many moments, looking at the scene. I had never seen anyone murdered in front of my eyes before, and all within a day I had seen too much. There had been hangings in Alger, but I’d never gone to them.

I felt sick, but when I looked up at Weston, my nausea left me with the breeze. He watched me as if to gauge my sanity. And the strongest emotion to return to me was a heart pounding, skin flushing, all-consuming fury.

I felt for the knife at my hip and threw it at him with all the skill he had taught me. It flew through the air and lodged itself in his bicep. He barely flinched as he pulled it out with one tug, and tossed it on the ground, his eyes a dark green storm.

“I hate you,” I snarled with venom.

He walked towards me with short, stalking steps, until we were only inches apart. “Good, then we’re finally on the right terms.”

My eyes were drawn away from his face and to the blood running down his arm from the wound I had caused.

I sucked in a breath when all I saw was a thin scar.