Free Heart of Fire by Kristen Painter Page B

pulsed warm and lively in the amulet’s center.
Her hand trembled. The girl child came.
    * * *
    The scenery they traveled through
was so different from the grove, but still not as interesting as
the elf in her company. She focused on the way his broad shoulders
tapered to the slender vee of his waist. How his cloak flowed over
his expansive back. Time and again her mind imagined the trail of
silver runes and the fine curve of backside that brought them to a
halt.
    The image built such heat in her,
she thought it best to think of something else before she melted.
She broke the stillness with a question. “Have you been to Shaldar
City?”
    “Nay.” Ertemis slowed Dragon and
dropped back beside her.
    “Why not? It’s the capital. It must
be very beautiful.” She wondered how her ideas compared to the
reality.
    “The king has men enough to fight
his battles. No need for a man like me.” His jaw went
tight.
    “But you haven’t even visited
there?” Jessalyne imagined bustling streets and colorful shops and
felt a tingle of excitement at what her future held.
    “Nay,” he snapped. “I told you that
already.”
    Whatever brooded in the dark elf,
Jessalyne didn’t pursue it. She had no desire to rouse his
temper.
    Ertemis changed the subject. “Why
did Tyber tell me if I touched you, you would kill me?”
    Taken off guard, Jessalyne searched
for an answer that was neither a lie nor the truth. Tyber should
have kept his mouth shut. “He was only trying to protect
you.”
    “Protect me? From what? You don’t
look very dangerous.”
    “Looks can be deceiving.”
    Ertemis shook his head. “Not
usually.”
    “You don’t think so?”
    “Do I look dangerous to
you?”
    She hesitated. “Yes. You
do.”
    “No deception there.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “So
what do I look like then?”
    * * *
    Ertemis opened his mouth to speak
but nothing came out. What she looked like was a kind of dangerous
he had kept himself free from, the kind of dangerous that addled a
man mind with soft curves and sweet perfume and whispered words.
“You look like the woman I work for,” he growled. “Let’s leave it
there.”
    “Hmmph.” Jessalyne stopped talking
to him after that.
    He glanced over. Petal’s rhythmic
stride and the warmth of the sun in the cloudless sky made her
eyelids heavy. The last thing he needed was for her to drift off
and fall.
    “There. Do you see it?” Ertemis
pointed toward the horizon.
    She looked up, yawning. “See
what?”
    “The town.”
    She was squinting into the distance.
“I don’t see anything but trees.”
    “Ah. I forget my sight surpasses
human. Trust me, there’s a town ahead. One I think I know. We’ll
break there.”
    “You can see that far ahead? What
other gifts do dark elves possess?” She nudged Petal into step with
Dragon, curiosity shining in her eyes.
    Ertemis threw his head back in a
laugh. “You aren’t timid, are you? Few have been brave enough to
question me so directly. You have mettle, esya.”
    She smiled back. “What does esya
mean?”
    “Girl.”
    “I’m a woman,” she
countered.
    “If you say so, esya.” He grinned at
her insistence.
    She sparked with irritation. “You
aren’t the first elf I’ve ever met.”
    “Really? In the grove? That
surprises me.” He watched her while he rode, his eyes unwilling to
leave her face.
    “A council of elves came for the
naming ceremony of Lord Tyber’s son. They gave him a Feyre, like
the one you carry.”
    “I’m impressed you know the name of
my blade.”
    Her cheeks pinked. “Those elves
looked very different from you.”
    “They were light elves, high born.
Like my mother.” His smile waned and he faced forward again. “Your
coloring is very much like hers.”
    “You must miss her.”
    “I miss no one.” He urged Dragon on,
breaking stride with Jessalyne and pulling ahead.
    * * *
    The town finally emerged before
Jessalyne’s eyes. The sign above the main gate proclaimed it Warren
on the Wick