Free Chosen by Nina Croft Page B

bloodstream as she realized she was sprawled on an unfamiliar green hillside, in brilliant sunshine, and the heavy thing on top of her was Tallon .
    Lying underneath Tallon had been a recurring daydream of hers since that first glimpse of him when she was twelve years old. Maybe this was just another dream, but in her dreams, he’d at least been moving, stroking her, kissing her and, as she grew older, doing a whole lot more. This Tallon was a dead weight.
    Okay, so he wasn’t making mad, passionate love to her. What was he doing then? It came back to her in a flash; he was the one who had been hunting her. She’d recognized him as soon as he’d entered the clearing. Right before he’d tried to kill her. Obviously, he hadn’t succeeded.
    The bastard!
    Fury shot through her, and she poked him hard in the ribs. He didn’t wake.
    So, what had happened next? She remembered kicking him, then seeing the glint of amusement in his dark eyes as she stood before him, ready to fight for her life. At that point, she’d lost her temper.
    Oh Goddess, what had she done? Something, very, very bad, she suspected.
    She pushed and finally managed to dislodge him enough to wriggle out from underneath. Sitting up, she peered around her, blinking at the bright white light, so different from what she was used to. Her eyes soon accustomed themselves, and she swore softly. Nothing was familiar.
    They were on some sort of hilltop, surrounded by a ring of stones. The sky, arching high above them, was a soft insipid blue, where it should have been violet, and a single sun glared down at her. She took a deep breath and admitted the terrifying truth.
    They were no longer on Arroway.
    She remembered the word she had flung at Tallon in her temper. The word she hadn’t even realized she knew. Where had it come from? And more to the point, what had it done? Somehow, it had ripped them away from their own world and landed them here—wherever here was.
    Panic clawed at her; she had to get back. She needed to find her mother before The Order did. Her mother was defenseless without Shayla. The problem was she had no clue how to return them to Arroway. She had never understood how her magic worked. The spells just came to her. No one had ever taught her how to control it—after all, there was no one left on Arroway capable of teaching her.
    Maybe the warlock would know how to get them home. If he ever woke up, and if she could persuade him to postpone trying to kill her long enough to find out.
    Shayla glanced at his unconscious form. He was lying on his back where he had rolled, one arm flung above his head. He was utterly gorgeous, and her fingers trembled with the need to reach out and touch him. She must be mad—he had tried to kill her and as far as she knew, any moment, he would wake up and try to finish the job.
    But then, her feelings for Tallon had never been completely rational. The first time she’d seen him, something fundamental had changed inside her. From that day on, she’d been drawn to him. When people whispered that the Enforcer was in town, bad men would run for cover, but Shayla would sneak out of whatever bolt-hole they were living in and watch him from the shadows. He’d always reminded her, in those brief glimpses, of some wild, magical creature. With his long, lean body and tangle of black hair, and the way he moved like some huge jungle cat, stalking his prey.
    Now Shayla was his prey.
    So close, he appeared even bigger than she remembered—his shoulders broad beneath the long leather coat. With a sword sheathed at his back, and a knife strapped to his right thigh, he looked dark and dangerous, and a tremor of apprehension quivered through her.
    His skin was pale over high cheekbones and a long straight jaw. His eyes were closed, but she knew they would be dark violet, almost purple, the color of the sky above Arroway as the suns went down. He had a beautiful mouth—normally held so stern—now it was relaxed revealing the