“Need!” she gasped, forgetting for once to call him “my Lord.” “Oh, Need, you came for me!”
“Of course, I came for you, girl!” He dropped the limp body of the other male and kicked it to one side as he reached for her. “Are you all right?” He studied her anxiously. “Did he hurt you?”
Lan’ara shook her head.
“He tried but he didn’t…he hadn’t…”
But no more words would come. Instead she let out a sob and then she was safe in Need’s arms and the big Kindred was holding her.
He picked her up like a baby and cradled her close to his chest. Lan’ara buried her face in his neck and sobbed, overcome with relief from the tension inside her that had stretched her nearly to the breaking point.
“I…I hoped you were looking for me,” she gasped at last. “But I didn’t know…couldn’t be sure. I was so scared, Need—so scared!”
“Of course you were. It’s all right now—all right, sweetheart.” His deep voice was a soft, soothing rumble—much different from the ferocious, menacing growl he’d been using only a moment earlier.
Lan’ara barely registered the endearment, though part of her noted it was nice he wasn’t calling her ‘girl’ for once.
“What happened?” he asked her. “How did you get here? Did those two bastards I saw outside find you and sell you?”
“I…I guess so.” Lan’ara swiped at her eyes and looked up at him. “But I didn’t know it. I think I must have inhaled some of the yarrow root powder before I bumped my head on Velda’s side. Because when I woke up, everything seemed beautiful and perfect and the two men who found me seemed kind and helpful.” She gave a rueful laugh. “Even Mistress Bigaboo seemed angelically lovely.”
“If that’s the female downstairs then that yarrow root is strong stuff,” Need muttered. “But look, sweetheart—you’re sure you’re all right? Nobody hurt you? Nobody forced you to…” He trailed off, looking at her anxiously.
“He was trying.” Lan’ara nodded down at the limp form of the “customer” lying with his head twisted all the way around so that he was staring blankly at the rotten timbers of the ceiling, though his chest and stomach were pressed to the sagging floorboards. “He was trying to,” she told Need again. “But he didn’t. You got to me in time. Just in time.”
She sighed and pressed her face to his neck again, breathing in his comforting, spicy scent. He smelled like safety and protection, she thought. He smelled like home.
“Good.” Need held her tighter. “Thank the Goddess I got to you when I did. I never should have brought you out here in the first place.”
“You couldn’t have known all this would happen,” Lan’ara pointed out. “And besides, I’m safe now that you’re here. Always safe with you, my Lord.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “But please—can we go home now? I mean, back to the ship? I’m so dreadfully tired.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll take you back to The Dark Heart and ask Captain Glo’ll to keep an eye on you. He should be back by now.” He sighed. “Then I have to clean up this mess. Myakk inhaled some of the yarrow root too, but I’m afraid he’s on a bad trip. Thinks all the demons of all the Seven Hells are after him.” He shook his head. “Not sure how I’m going to salvage the deal.”
“Oh dear! If you need to tend to that first—” Lan’ara began.
“No.” Need shook his head firmly. “No, you come first.”
And still cradling her close to his chest, he carried her out of the room and away from the awful whorehouse.
Forty-One
For a wonder, Velda was still tied and hobbled where Need had last seen her. The two drunks, however, were nowhere to be found. Which was a damn good thing for them—Need wouldn’t have been opposed to bashing their heads together again to teach them a lesson about how to treat a female in distress.
He was afraid the tubb-oh would bolt the minute they untied it, but there were still plenty of jewel-toned tarsa fruits inside it. Lan’ara had the bright idea of gathering the fruit and using it to lure the reluctant tubb-oh along with them through the twisted streets until they once again reached the marketplace.
Before dealing with Myakk again—who could still be seen flopping in the pile of cushions and moaning that demons were eating his soul, Need took Lan’ara back to The Dark Heart. There, he was relieved to find out that Drung had decided to go out and explore the marketplace after all.
“Are you sure?” he asked Psoas, who met them at the door.
The engineer nodded, his long, rubbery neck swaying with the motion.
“He heard there was a brothel that catered to Trollox—never saw him lumber so fast in my life.” Psoas laughed. “Told me not to wait up because he expected to be there a while.”