Outpost (Razorland 2)

“I’ll never understand why you do this,” she muttered.

I cut her a sharp look. “So you wouldn’t fight for your children?”

The woman huffed out a breath. “Never you mind. Just lay the table.”

Dinner was a surprisingly agreeable meal. Since my foster parents didn’t carp on his injuries, Fade relaxed and enjoyed the food. I did notice he sat very straight, his back not touching the chair. He’d done that on the swing and the sofa too, and I hadn’t realized what it meant. Stupid. You might have helped him sooner.

After the meal, we played a card game Edmund had been teaching me. It had a lot of rules and was nothing like any of the ones I’d learned down below. It required keeping track of point values and discards. Tonight, we divided into teams, Momma Oaks and Fade, against Edmund and me. I was gratified when they won, which left Fade smiling, and Edmund slid me a wink as he pushed back from the table, making me think he’d tossed the match. I liked him better all the time.

“We’ll play chess when you get back from the outpost,” Edmund promised.

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

As the hour grew late, Momma Oaks cleared the table, and I helped her. We washed the dishes in companionable silence. It was only when I was drying the last dish that she turned to me, hands on hips.

“He’s important to you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. James would be proud of me, I thought, for remembering to differentiate by gender.

“Is he the reason you’re so set on fighting?”

“No,” I said slowly. “I think it’s the other way around.”

She laughed quietly. “I’m not surprised to hear that. We’ll be retiring now. Don’t spend so long sparking that you don’t get any sleep.”

That was the second time I’d heard that word, and I trusted Momma Oaks enough to expose my ignorance. “What does ‘sparking’ mean?”

Her face softened as if with pleasant memories. “It means your sap’s flowing, and you’re blooming, so you enjoy spending private time with your young man.”

Ah. Her explanation permitted me to make the connection to kissing. Come to think of it, “sparking” was a good word. When he touched me, I did feel like I had bits of light flickering all over my body. My cheeks heated at the idea that Momma Oaks knew about that kind of thing. But if she had chosen Edmund as her partner and borne his children, it was an inescapable conclusion. That gave me the oddest sensation, imagining them young and eager.

She went on, “I won’t caution you further. You’re a brave girl to have come as far as you have, and I know you have your priorities straight.”

I took that to mean she finally believed I wasn’t interested in unauthorized breeding. At this point, I liked kissing a lot, but anything more had to wait until my combat reflexes slowed; I couldn’t risk a brat breaking up my best fighting years. Once I got old and sluggish, say twenty-four or so, then I might consider settling down and breeding with Fade, but that was so far in the future, I could hardly picture it, and my present looked anything but certain.

“Thank you for everything,” I said.

Momma Oaks hurried over to me and gave me the tightest hug I’d ever had. She smelled of good things baking, and my eyes stung a little. Almost at once, she stepped back and muttered that she probably wouldn’t be up when I left, but that she’d keep me in her prayers. In Salvation, that was a good thing, as it meant talking to the divine being who ruled the world from heaven. I couldn’t imagine he even listened, but my foster mother took comfort from it, and that was enough for me.

I took a moment to compose myself after she left the kitchen, and then I went into the sitting room, where I found Edmund putting on his shoes and hat. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“I promised you new boots to march in tomorrow,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to—”

“Don’t be silly.” That apparently ended the discussion because my foster father went out then, closing the door softly behind him.

Fade observed the exchange from the small sofa. He wasn’t leaning back, so I figured the salve had made his wounds tender. Instead, he propped his elbows on his knees and studied me as if I held all the answers to the mysteries of the universe. That look quickened my pulse.

“He cares for you a lot,” he said.

I nodded. “I thought for the first few weeks that I was a bother to them both, but it seems not.”

“I’m glad you ended up with folks who love you.”

I didn’t feel like discussing that when I was doing my best to worry those kind people. “Are you tired?” I asked, changing the subject.

He shook his head. “This is the last time I’ll be alone with you for a while.”

“Could be the whole summer before it happens again,” I agreed.

We’d be together, but there wouldn’t be many quiet moments like this one. It’d be impossible to think about sparking while establishing an outpost in the fields. Which made me wonder if I was crazy for volunteering; I could be safe within the walls, spending moments like this one with Fade. There could be moonlight walks and sparking in the swing, whispered secrets and infinite softness. I’d given all that up to live rough and to fight for my life.

But I couldn’t deny the Huntress in me.

“Then we should make the most of tonight.” Fade stood and offered his hand.

I studied him in the diffuse lamplight, seeing how it glazed his raven hair. It fell in shaggy waves around his lean, lovely face. At this point, I knew his features better than my own. A half-smile played at the corner of his mouth, giving him a playful air. But even at play, Fade still exuded that dangerous edge, as if he were a wild thing tamed only to my hand. I drew in a soft, shuddering breath, then went to him, and put my fingers in his. He drew me in slowly, whether because of his back, or so as to avoid spooking me, I couldn’t say.

So close, I could see the dark fringe of his eyelashes. His eyes were so dark, they held no other hues, but as I gazed up, I noticed his irises had a faint violet ring. I’d never seen such a look, full of melting tenderness and absolute adoration. I think I could have stayed like that all night, if he hadn’t kissed me.

His lips moved on mine, then toyed with my lower lip. His teeth grazed, then his tongue. Sparks crackled to life, lighting me from within. Fade pulled me close with his hand on my waist, but even lost in him, I remembered not to put my hands on his back. Instead I curled my fingers into the nape of his neck, alternately pressing and stroking. Fade slid his hands to my hips and drew me against him so our bodies were flush and hot. I felt as though his heartbeat echoed mine, pounding out a thunderous tune. He drank my gasps and sighs with hungry lips, and I responded with all of me. Eventually, his mouth moved away from mine; then he kissed my ear, my throat, and a little sound escaped me.

“I think we’d better stop,” I said shakily.

Before I forget that breeding is a bad idea for a Huntress. A few more minutes and I wouldn’t care at all about how a brat would change my life. He didn’t protest when I withdrew, but his hands trembled, which meant sparking had the same effect on him. That reaction made me feel better about having such poor control over my softer instincts. I smiled to show I didn’t mind.

“Don’t go to bed yet,” he whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

We had spent more nights together than apart, at this point. In fact, when we first arrived in Salvation, I found it difficult to sleep alone. I was used to Fade, Tegan, and Stalker camped out nearby. I wasn’t accustomed to silence and privacy, and I’d found it lonely. Though I had acclimated to my own bed, my own space, I still wished some nights to find Fade within arm’s reach, so I could watch him sleep, his lashes curled like dark fans on his cheeks.

“What now, then?” I could tell from his expression that he was having a hard time not reaching for me, and I wanted to be close to him, but it wasn’t smart. If he started again with the kissing, I’d let it go further than it should. My common sense had already packed a bag, prepared to abandon me for the evening. Luckily, I had an alternative in mind.

“There’s something I always wanted to do,” I confessed.

Fascination flared in his night-sky eyes. “What?”

In answer, I sat on the sofa and beckoned him over. “Lay down and put your head in my lap.”

It took him a moment to find a comfortable position, but he managed it on his side, facing me, his head resting on my thighs. I exhaled in contentment and sank my hands in his silky, shaggy hair. I had touched it before, of course, but not at length, or at my leisure. In long, soothing strokes, I feathered my fingers down his forehead, temples, cheeks, and back up again. I traced the arch of his brows and the bridge of his nose. Once, I would never have permitted myself so much contact; I believed tenderness was for Breeders only.

But Fade needed this as much as I did.

“You always wanted to pet me?” he asked, his tone a sleepy sweetness.

“Is that all right?”

“It’s … perfect.” He was smiling when he went to sleep, and I held him, thinking there was nothing I wouldn’t do for this boy.

Pressure

The sky was dark when I woke. I had a crick in my neck from holding Fade all night, but he slept on, as deep in dreams as I’d ever seen him. In these quiet, covert moments, he was wholly mine. No defenses, no pretense. And so I brushed his hair back, then traced the elegant line of his brows. His eyelids fluttered, and if I could’ve kissed them without waking him, I would have. I restrained the impulse because I sensed it had been a long time since he rested this well.

From across the room, a pair of shiny new boots sat on the bottom stair, which meant Edmund worked until he finished them, came home to find us curled up like puppies, and didn’t say a word about it. I imagined him watching us, his face soft, and then leaving the present where I’d see it. Tears simmered in my eyes. Silently, I slipped out from beneath Fade, trading a pillow for my lap, and went to get my gift.

Hugging the boots to my chest, I headed to the kitchen. I hated putting them down, even to fix a quiet meal. There was always fresh bread and butter, along with a red and gooey spread Momma Oaks called strawberry jam. I didn’t light the stove because that would wake my foster parents, and Edmund must’ve gotten precious little sleep. This would be good, more than we’d had some mornings as we traveled. As I spread the butter and jam, I remembered days when we’d eaten nothing but a handful of charred rabbit.

Once I finished preparing breakfast, I carried two plates to the sitting room. I woke Fade with a hand on his shoulder, and to my pleasure, he didn’t reach for his weapons. He only gazed up at me with a drowsy, questioning smile. I saw the moment he recognized me, and his eyes brightened.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered.

Vaguely embarrassed by the melting warmth in my stomach, I shot him a look. “Don’t.”

His smile widened into a grin as he eased upright and took the food. I ate quickly and in silence, knowing we needed to wash up and collect our things. It wouldn’t do for us to turn up late on the first day. That reminded me too much of our initial patrol down below. Squashing the ache that rose up at the thought of my lost friends, I took the dishes to the kitchen and pumped a basin of water. Fade took his turn first, bathing with a cloth in the kitchen. I did not stand in the sitting room, imagining the fabric tracing over his chest. When he came to the doorway, I took my turn. I dressed in a tunic and trousers, then drew on my new boots. Gorgeous. Afterward, we grabbed our belongings and headed for the barracks.