4

The girl’s head snapped up and she stopped. “She? Are you talking about Wiley?”

“Her name is Rihlia,” he corrected stiffly, stopping as well. He was annoyed at his outburst. It wasn’t like him to be this edgy around a woman; even a beautiful woman; especially a beautiful woman, and he didn’t like it.

“She’s my age, very dark hair, looks Asian?”

“I know who she is,” he said coolly, “And her name is Rihlia.”

Her eyes snapped fire as she jerked her arm away, fear apparently forgotten. Really, for such a tiny creature, she was full of passion. Had she been anyone else, he would have relished that knowledge; but she wasn’t staying.

“Her name is Wiley, you misbegotten...” she broke off and took a deep breath. “I need to see her.”

“Then come.” He took her arm again and set off. The sooner this chore was accomplished, the better. He had more important matters to attend to.

Apparently she wasn’t content to travel in silence, for she said, “What is this place?”

“The Dark Lands,” he answered shortly, hoping she’d be quiet. He glanced off into the trees and toyed with the idea of having the volti show themselves again to frighten her speechless, but refrained.

“Why is it called that?”

“To frighten off unwanted humans?” he suggested with exasperation. Were all humans this bothersome, or was it just her? She tripped over a plainly visible rock in the path and swore, forcing him to steady her yet again. He added clumsy and unobservant to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

“What do you mean, ‘humans’?” she asked suspiciously.

“What you are, and what I am not. What Rihlia is not,” he informed her with satisfaction. That ought help drive her off. Humans were notoriously fearful of anyone alien, even their own kind. She would be no different.

“Wiley is as human as I am,” she gritted out. “I ought to know. We were raised in the same orphanage.”

The remembrance of how his cousin had been kept in a sterile home for abandoned and orphaned children enraged him anew. “She was raised there, but she wasn’t born there. Your kind put her there.”

“Yeah? Well, she wouldn’t have been there if your kind hadn’t lost her,” she snapped back.

He grabbed her arm and jerked her to him, angry on such a deep level that he could barely verbalize his emotion. “You have no idea what you are saying, creature. Beware lest you test my mercy,” he warned her softly, almost relishing her trembling. Hatred of humans was old and instinctive. Though he could not have named all his reasons, he wanted this one to fear him. He wanted her to leave.

There was something wrong about her.

Before he could identify what his instincts told him, his nose caught her scent, bringing with it a desire that flooded his senses in an entirely alien way. For a moment his mind stalled, and the closest he could come to breaking away was to shift his hand down her arm. Spellbound, the only thing that he wanted in that moment was to let his body speak to her in a language entirely its own.

Lightning traveled up his arms from her frozen body and he let go with a gasp. “Charmer!” he hissed, and gripped the hilt of his blade. It was all he could do not to kill her on the spot. Of all the woman in the world Rihlia had to call friend, why one of them, one of the few guaranteed to be trouble to the males of his kind?

“What?” She looked confused. Could she be ignorant of her curse? It would not save her. He had sworn not to harm her, but it would not stop the others. They would kill her. A charmer was a temptress, a siren, poison.

He needed to get rid of her, fast.

He reached out to tow her along again, thought better of it, and pointed with an unsteady hand. “There is the trail. Follow it.” He thought of prodding her along with his blade for good measure, but perhaps that was going too far. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d leap on him and attempt a seduction right there.

Probably.

Her head turned to follow his pointing finger and she squinted in bewilderment. “Where?”

“Right there,” he repeated, wondering what was wrong with her. Could she really be this helpless in the dark?

The sultry wind ruffled her limp hair as she gave a weary sigh. “Look, I can’t see a thing out here, ok? I can barely see you, so if you plan on getting where we’re going tonight, you’ll have to lead the way.”

It was not worth arguing. The sooner begun… He started walking; not so fast that she couldn’t see him, but far enough ahead to ensure zero contact. One couldn’t be too careful with a charmer.

For thousands of years, her kind had been used by humans to lure and trap the men of the Haunt. The best of their warriors had been enticed by the unique, bewitching scent of the charmer and killed by their masters until there were few of them left. That combined with the unrelenting fear and hatred of humans had driven his kind to seek their own world, free of the hunters.

And now one of them was here.

Jayems would be furious.

As they approached the forest entrance to the hollowed volcanic mountain that served as the Haunt fortress, he kept a wary eye on the female, remembering Rihlia’s unfortunate reaction to her first sight of the warrior Haunt. This girl was no different. The moment she saw the shadowy guards she stumbled back with a gasp, which was at least an improvement over the ear-shattering shriek he’d been braced for. Reaching back, he grabbed a fistful of her shirt and dragged her through the door. Once inside, he propelled her down the hallway with a business-like hand at her back.

“Wh-what…”