Killing Time Read online

Page 2


  I just looked at him, waiting for my ears to stop ringing and idly wondering if I had a concussion. Again.

  His hostile eyes bored into me. “Why are you talking now when you refused to before?”

  I tried not to wince. “Before?”

  “Don’t be a wise-ass. You were insane, attacking everything that moved.”

  Dreading the answer but having to ask anyway, I whispered, “Did I kill anybody?”

  He went still. “You don’t know?”

  Lifting my left hand to eye level, I gingerly worked the fingers, not surprised when the last two wouldn’t bend. My voice strained, I pressed, “Except for the bodach, did anyone die?”

  The guy considered me and I had the sudden conviction that his keen eyes missed nothing. “No. But not for lack of your trying.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and sensed his awareness of my immense relief.

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  Shooting a sideways look at him, I chewed my lip, indecisive. After a second, I shook my head.

  Muscles worked in his jaw and he clearly didn’t like my answer. “What is your name?”

  I blinked blearily, perplexed by the personal question. “I am Nomad.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “That’s a way of life, not a name.”

  I shrugged, fingering a large tear in my white T-shirt. “It’s what I am called.”

  His expression darkened. “I asked you a question and you mock me with ridiculous—”

  “It is an honorable designation. A respected designation,” I said hotly. “No other bears it. No other dares claim it!”

  He frowned and sheathed his knife in a scabbard at the small of his back. “I am called Walks Far by all the nations, and although I have many names, I prefer Koda. Have you no name?”

  I cleared my throat, thinking furiously. “Sephti?”

  His frown deepened. “Is that your name?”

  I shrugged noncommittally, uncomfortable with his questions.

  He studied me like he was trying to figure something out, something that had nothing to do with the topic of conversation. “What does it mean?”

  “What does Koda mean?” I shot back.

  His mouth twitched. “Friend.”

  I looked at him, incredulous. “You accuse me of dishonesty and yet you speak such a clear falsehood? There is nothing friendly about you!”

  “There are those who would agree.” He snorted, like I’d amused him and he was surprised by it. “What does Sephti mean?”

  Grudgingly, I mumbled, “Second.”

  He tilted his head. “What are you second to?”

  I looked away, mortified to have nothing more than functional and rank designations and trying not to show it.

  When I didn’t answer, he made an impatient noise. “I’m not calling you Nomad or Second.”

  I tossed my head. “Says the man with the deceitful name.”

  He growled an unintelligible response and began pacing.

  Figuring it was high time I got on with my plans, I climbed to my feet and headed for the door. I’d purposely picked this highrise since it wasn’t far from the vampires’ house, so my motorcycle and meager supplies were still hidden in a windowless hallway on the building’s first floor. I had no idea what Koda’s interests were and couldn’t have cared less. I also had no idea how long the frenzy had lasted or how far my quarry might have gotten by now. But I’m a helluva tracker and figured once I got back to the little cottage, I’d either find the vampires or I’d find their trail.

  I’d just reached the threshold when I sensed the power of Koda’s charge.

  Chapter Two

  Dredging up the last of my strength, I launched myself across the room, wondering what the hell was his problem. He seemed way more pissed off than having had his butt kicked would account for. I was about to yell this at him when his iron grip again found my throat. I couldn’t figure out how he kept getting hold of me either, especially since I should be invisible to everything with a pulse.

  My vision faded as his fist tightened, choking off my air. I tried to rouse some outrage that this was how I was going out rather than the way I’d meticulously planned. Even the berserker frenzy would’ve been welcome, but I was just too damn tired. My stomach roared its emptiness and my blood sugar plummeted below dangerous levels.

  As the world dimmed to pinpricks, I felt a tug at each wrist before sweet, blessed air whistled into my lungs. Rousing, I found myself stretched out once more on the worn carpet.

  “I don’t know what kind of fae you are since the binding I placed at your throat should’ve kept you tethered to me. But it and those now on your wrists will do the job,” Koda said with obvious satisfaction. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  His words rolled around in my head, meaningless, as I made it to my knees. I had to pause for a second and wait for the room to quit spinning or risk keeling over in an undignified sprawl. Reflexively, I reached into my jacket pocket but came up empty.

  “Looking for something?” His voice was hard and challenging.

  I shook my head, trying vainly to clear it. “Jelly beans.” I hated like hell any appearance of weakness. But hunger and desperation were great equalizers, flattening pride every time. “I need sugar.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. “Fae don’t eat.”

  Growing muzzier, I slurred, “Tol’ you…not fae.” My head hung despite my fervent commands otherwise. Polished black cowboy boots appeared in my limited line of sight as he came to stand over me. Damnation, I’d rather he kill me outright than be caught kneeling at anyone’s feet. Indignation got my chin up for a brief moment before I slid sideways with a thump, barely getting a hand out in time to keep from falling on my face.

  The boots went away and then were back, their owner’s strides quick and angry. “If this is a trick…”

  “Not,” I managed, the word coming out on a breath.

  He knelt cautiously and reached a hand toward me—resting on his broad palm were the eight remaining jelly beans. Nowhere near enough to return me to full strength, since only several days’ rest, about ten pounds of sugar and a stack of protein—ohh, double cheeseburgers, loaded with bacon—would do that. My mouth watered at the thought. But the candy would keep me from slipping into the debilitating torpor that’s a constant threat for bitterns and would give me time to get more from my supply.

  I fumbled the jelly beans from his hand and shoved them all into my mouth, forcing my jaws to work as fast as possible. Swallowing, I let my head hang again. I actually felt it when the sugar hit my bloodstream and sighed at the invigorating pleasure. A trickle of energy got me more upright and I sat straighter, meeting Koda’s unfathomable black gaze.

  I nodded my thanks, lifting a shaky hand to shove my hair out of my eyes. That’s when it clicked—the tug at my wrists and his comment about something tethering me. Glancing sidelong at him, I fingered the delicately braided leather bracelets and a broader band circling my neck—that I hadn’t felt them freaked me out.

  Koda sat back on his heels, a grim smile twisting his lips. “Didn’t you wonder why you couldn’t shift? Why your disappearing trick didn’t work?” His attitude told me how little he thought of my deductive reasoning.

  I leaned back against the wall and rested my forearms on my bent knees, forcing myself to breathe through the instinctual fear of restraint. “Not being fae, I can’t shift from one place to another, so the effort to block is wasted on me. Y’know. Since I’m not fae.” I eyed him, enjoying how his jaw tightened with anger at my acid-sweet tone. “But yes, I did wonder how you caught me when I’d shaded.”

  “Shaded?” he echoed, frowning.

  “When I blur my form and fade completely.” I held up a wrist. “I’m guessing you’ve woven something into the bracelets and necklace. Your name, a lock of hair, or some other piece of yourself.”

  His eyes flashed, but he remained silent.


  I slipped a finger into the woven strand on my left wrist and tugged. A blazing-hot arc of something—as much as it hurt, it ought to have been acid—shot up my arm and exploded in my head. When the strobing agony faded, I blinked my vision clear to see Koda watching me.

  His tone wry, he said, “The bindings won’t hurt you unless you fight them, try to leave, or resist me. Then their retaliation will double the effort you made.”

  Panic set my heart thundering in my chest—it had taken me years to escape fae servitude and any kind of restraint roused the old fears, the helpless rage. “Resist you,” I repeated, my mouth going dry at the potential implications.

  He smiled mockingly. “My commands. Nothing else.” He let his gaze travel across my slim body with cold contempt.

  My anxiety eased. Of all the nightmarish consequences of being indentured to the fae, at least they saw my kind as so abominable that rape was never even a possibility.

  The guy read my relief and glowered—while he’d made his disdain for me clear, he was obviously accustomed to women wanting him.

  I had to grin at his wounded male pride. “If it’s a prisoner you’re after, there’s no one to pay a ransom and nothing to be gained by keeping me.” No way would I tell him that the fae king had a bounty on my head that would make him a very rich man.

  Koda made an impatient sound—either a habitual noise for him or one I inspired with some frequency. “There isn’t enough money in the world to make binding you a worthwhile endeavor.”

  I frowned. “Then why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance? Why’d you stop me from leaving? And why bother with bindings?”

  “Why, why, why. I think I preferred you silent and psychotic.” He bared his teeth. “I didn’t kill you because a man who’s like a brother to me specifically asked that I spare your life. He was grateful for your warning about the ehrlindriel-armed bodach and it is his mercy alone you’ve to thank, not mine. You’d be wise to not assign any such tendencies to me.” Koda leaned closer and his voice dropped an octave with rage. “Because nothing would please me more than to see everything connected to the fae dead and burned to ash.”

  I tipped my head in agreement. He seemed surprised by my mild response. “This person isn’t much of a friend to leave you to guard duty,” I remarked.

  “It was my condition for not killing you outright. Don’t make me reconsider my side of the bargain.” Koda’s malice hit my senses in rolling, brutal waves, knocking the breath from my lungs. I wasn’t sure whether to strike back in kind—and I could do it, with interest—or to resist the urge out of respect for our shared goal of fae destruction.

  Taking my silence for acquiescence, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked smug. “I bound you to ensure you don’t circle back and harm my friend or those he holds dear. Until I know exactly what your intentions are toward them,” he flashed a feral grin, “or you do something that even James would accept as justification for death, you’re not leaving my sight.”

  I did a slow burn. “You’re aware that your friend James is one of the six vampires whose asses I saved from the bodach?”

  “Saved?” Koda echoed in a hard, angry voice. I was getting better at tracking the guy’s insanely fast movements, so I caught the blur of motion as he lunged to get in my face. “Maybe it was a setup. Maybe you called the bodach there so you could present yourself in a positive light.”

  Never one to back down, I rolled my eyes. “The damn things answer only to the king himself or—when he grants special favors—to the four fae lords.” I held my arms out in a ta-da gesture. “Do I look like royalty to you?”

  “You don’t want to know what you look like to me,” he snarled, whirling away.

  Thinking about how meticulously I’d planned my revenge against my former masters, the certainty that time was running out made me stupidly play my hand too soon. “I need to talk with one of the vampires.” Koda turned to stare at me, his head lowered aggressively. “It’s important.”

  “You’re not going anywhere near them.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  Turns out hunger and desperation weren’t the only equalizers of pride. Burning vengeance can more than hold its own.

  Making my lips form the hated word, I whispered, “Please.”

  “You beg? Oh, this is rich.” His laugh was derisive, cutting. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, but you’re apparently in need of the reminder. You’re not going anywhere near them.”

  I drew a sharp breath. “You can’t just keep me—”

  His humorless chuckle interrupted me. “Can’t I?”

  It all became too much—the frustration, the panic at being restrained, the debilitating exhaustion, the strength-draining hunger—and I flew to my feet. “No, you cannot!”

  His voice cracked the command. “Sit down!”

  Acidic heat scorched my neck and wrists, staggering me. “Go to hell!” I hissed, my throat constricted with pain.

  Throwing myself toward the door, I shuffled on barely responsive feet across the empty office, determined to get as far from Koda as possible. The more I fought the braided leather bindings, the greater the agony burning through my body.

  He moved in front of me. “You’re only hurting yourself. There’s no need for this—”

  “P-p-piss off,” I stammered, falling to my knees but still crawling forward, inch by tortuous inch closer to freedom. It felt as if the very marrow in my bones was liquefying, and soon I’d be nothing but a bubbling puddle on the floor.

  “Don’t be a fool, woman!” Koda shouted, getting in front of me again.

  There wasn’t enough air left in my lungs to even squeak back at him, but I got a fist up and weakly slugged his rock-hard thigh. My hand missed the floor on its way back down and I did a face-plant on the filthy carpet. Still I struggled toward the door, determined to resist with every last breath in me.

  Koda began chanting in a language I didn’t know and the blazing agony streaking through my body disappeared, leaving me trembling from both the aftershocks and the miraculous absence of pain. Refusing to give in, I dug my knees and elbows against the floor, heaving myself onward with sheer cussedness. The bindings tingled back to life, but the sensation now was one of soothing warmth, creating a comforting cocoon all around my body. The urge to lie down and be still swamped my awareness. My own weight became too much for me, as if gravity had suddenly quadrupled and I lacked the strength to combat its implacable downward pull. My muscles no longer had the ability to comply with my panicked commands. Even my miniscule progress forward halted and I lay boneless on the floor.

  Kneeling a few inches from my face, Koda cocked his head as if I’d surprised him. There was a brief glimmer of something like horror in his ebony eyes before he masked it. “A coyote will chew off its own leg to escape a trap. I believe you would too, given the chance.”

  I glared my helpless rage at him as I lay, gathering the last shred of energy for a final, obstinate effort.

  His expression hardened. “Your reality has changed and things will go more easily for you the sooner you accept it. I will not release you, not until I am certain you pose no threat to James or his people.”

  Feeling like I was trying to move the planet, I got my hands under me and pushed, slowly, agonizingly to my knees. The woven bindings at my wrists and throat pressed back all the harder, but nothing would keep me prone and helpless. Not even if resisting killed me.

  Getting my head up and all but hyperventilating from the struggle, I met Koda’s astonished gaze and rasped, “Fuck…you.”

  “Stop fighting me, dammit! I can sense how this is weakening you. You’re killing yourself!”

  Ignoring him, I battled to my feet and stood, swaying, as the last of my energy plummeted to lethal levels. I was beyond words now as the world swooped and swirled around me. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears and my heart beat so fast, it was like one continuous thud in my chest.

  I heard Ko
da mutter, “Do you have any survival instinct whatsoever? Damnation, woman, do you even possess an off button?”

  I was beyond his control too, now. Only freedom mattered.

  Uncertain where the door was, I struggled to get my body moving—not with any hope that I’d get there but because I’d rather die in the act of defiance than standing meekly as my body shut down.

  I doubt I made it even a foot before the world went black.

  I awoke with the taste of sugar on my tongue. I was leaning back against a broad, hard chest and a warm hand framed my left cheek as a container was held to my lips.

  “Dammit,” Koda’s voice resonated beneath my head as he tipped more sweet liquid into my mouth. “You have absolutely no common sense. None.”

  I wanted to cuss him out, but the sugar water tasted too good to stop drinking. Lifting shaking hands, I grabbed at the plastic bottle he held, trying to gulp its contents.

  He made an angry sound. “Not too fast.”

  “More,” I demanded in a rough whisper.

  A long moment passed as I drank each of the swallows he allowed, reveling in the sensation of energy returning to my body, like systems coming back online. The bottle emptied long before I was satisfied, but it was enough to revive me.

  “You got the sugar from my backpack,” I grumbled when I was able.

  “If I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

  Against my will, I nodded.

  “You’re welcome,” he commented wryly.

  The sudden realization slammed through my sluggish brain that Koda was holding me rather intimately. I could feel his heart, the steady rise and fall of his breathing against my back, and the sensations were oddly soothing. His strong arms supporting me, knowing his face was so close to mine and feeling his soft, warm breath on my cheek set my pulse hammering.

  It figured that my perverse libido was taking such keen interest in a man who gave every indication he loathed me. One who’d bound me against my will and whose stubbornness was preventing me from fulfilling my long-cherished plans.