Burning Up

“Our masters—”
    “—Will be most displeased if I tell them the Great Barrier will not fall because you two got hungry.” The glow blazed up in warning, bright as firelight. “Get you gone!”
    Snarling, the two Varil limped out, hissing insults at the guards who brandished swords to speed them on their way.
    Korban turned to Amaris, who was breathing hard, the bloody knife in her hand. Her thin gown was splashed with blood, both green and red.
    Raniero tensed. She was hurt.
    “It appears you saved my captive.” Korban eyed her up and down, gaze lingering on the shadows of her nipples, visible through the thin fabric. “My thanks.”
    She curled a lip, her hand tightening on her knife until her knuckles went white. “I didn’t save him for you. I would not see anyone helpless before those beasts.”
    He shrugged. “As you will.” Turning to look down at Raniero, he studied the wounds that raked across his chest and arms. “You are fortunate she summoned me and came to your aid. Otherwise your injuries would have been far worse.”
    Raniero let his cold rage show in his eyes. He wouldn’t have been helpless before those monsters if it hadn’t been for Korban’s plotting. “I am well aware of what I owe you both.”
    “Where were his guards?” Amaris demanded, a frown on her pretty face. “There were four human guards watching his door when I went downstairs, but they were gone when I returned. Yet their watch was not over.”
    The chill smile vanished from Korban’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “That is a very good point. I believe I’ll have a word with the guard captain.” He turned, but before he stepped into the corridor, he looked back at Amaris. “Heal the vampire. He won’t be able to take care of those injuries himself in those bespelled chains. And I’d as soon he doesn’t die of blood-fever.” Korban stalked out, the hem of his robe vanishing after him with a swish like a cat’s tail.
    His servants and hangers-on slipped out in his wake, leaving Raniero alone with the Rose. He eyed her in the firelight, frowning. “Why?”
    She closed the door behind the last of the mob before turning to look at him. “Why what?”
    “Why did you risk your life? You could have run for the guard.”
    Amaris shrugged as she crossed the room with a Rose’s habitual floating grace. “I didn’t think you had the time. I feared they’d rip you apart before I could bring help.”
    “Instead they might well have ripped us both apart.”
    Her green eyes sparked, magic flashing clear and blue in the depths of her pupils. “I am not so easy to kill.”
    “Still, you took a great risk.” He studied her lovely face. “Thank you.”
    Amaris bent to examine the wounds raking across his chest. “As I told Korban, I would not see anyone at the mercy of those monsters.” She touched delicate fingertips to his chest over a particularly deep set of claw marks.
    Raniero caught his breath as her magic danced across his skin, delicate as butterfly wings at first, building to a rapid burn as she forced torn flesh to heal.
    Amaris met his gaze, and desire shivered between them, lush and impossibly tempting.
    The Blood Rose had saved him at risk of her own life. It made no sense. Roses schemed, lied, led a man around by his dick.
    Look at his stepmother. Thanks to her lies, her son was now heir to the fief that should have been Raniero’s.
    Yet this Rose had put herself at hazard for one who could do her no good.
    Raniero watched her, struggling with the mystery of it as her delicate fingers floated over his bloody flesh, healing his wounds with dancing waves of magic. His temples began to throb, a deep and sullen pulse.
    Finishing at last, Amaris started to rise. And hesitated, her gaze on his face. She frowned. “Does your head ache?”
    Raniero stirred in his bonds, gazing up at her warily. “Aye.”
    She made as if to go again, then stopped and sighed, as if yielding to a weakness. Cool fingers touched him between his gathered brows, and the pain drained away like water.
    And that act, he knew, could have no other motive than simple kindness.
    Again, the Rose turned to go.
    “May I offer you pleasure in payment?”
    Her lips twisted with such cynicism; it occurred to him that he was not the only one who doubted the motives of the other. “I need no payment.”
    “Then perhaps pleasure for its own sake?” When she started to speak again, he added, “I would offer you my mouth.”
     
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