Page 125 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
We’d paused in our travels to train, and we’d been doing just that since dawn. First, in the art of magical control, second, in combat. I guessed it was near to two in the afternoon, and I was drained to the point of exhaustion and quaking from low blood sugar. Plus, I suffered the pain of numerous cuts and bruises from fending off a tireless behemoth.
“A break—please,” I gasped, lights flashing around his head.
“No. You have weak stamina. In a fight for your life, your attacker will lend no respite. They’ll batter you until you succumb. I’ll do you no favors by going easy on you now. You must learn to push past your limits. You’ll go further than you think capable. Believe me, Shorty.”
Nauseous, I spat between my feet, then forced myself upright. “Fine,” I growled, glaring. “But just so you know—you suck.”
A shoulder to my midsection punctuated the insult. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a fuzzy thimble fae on a violet.
I awoke hours later in the back of Pete’s wagon. Aching, I sat up to discover we’d abandoned our training camp. Now, Pete was building a fire beneath a lone elm in a small clearing amidst a wild wheat field. The suns were setting, the breeze cooling.
Hearing me, my trainer/tormenter turned about. “You woke sooner than I thought you would.”
I sneered, crawling out of the wagon and hobbling over to him.
“You’re moving better than I assumed you would too.”
I sniffed, kneading a sore spot in the small of my back. “Sorry you didn’t paralyze me.”
He chuckled, dropped the bundle of sticks he’d been holding, and approached. “Again, I needed to push you to your limits, and I did. Maybe tomorrow you’ll last a mite longer before you swoon.”
He wasn’t joking. He expected me to pass out. Was that the only way a training session would end?
I stiffened further when Pete slipped behind me, grabbed my hips. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“Easing your back pain,” he said, and I shivered as strong, callused thumbs nudged beneath my top and pressed into my spine.
Even in a massage, Pete handled me like vulcanized rubber. He massaged me with the finesse of a billy goat, assuming my flesh would bounce back. And,ooh, did I enjoy being touched like a durable substance instead of spun glass.
I realized that I might like it too much when Pete’s grinding fingers slid to my lower dimples. My body melted into his hands, and Pete’s fingers slowed to a firmer, more deliberate pressure. Almost cajoling. Almost seductive.
Pete must’ve felt the shift too. He dropped his hands, and I missed the rasping warmth of his fingers. “Hope that helps.” He returned to his chores with a crooked grin, his cheeks now a shade darker.
I watched as he knelt to regather his kindling. “It does.” I gulped as my eyes locked onto the toned curve of his ass. “Thanks.”
“Why don’t you eat some of the jerked riggit Olea packed for us, then have another lie-down? There’s something I want to do tonight, and I can’t have you wilting while we do it.”
The ghost of his touch lingered on my back. “What do you want to do?”
Pete templed his sticks. “We’re a brief stroll from Glynlea—where the Goblin Market will appear come midnight. Thought you might enjoy seeing it.”
We were goingshopping?
“You earned a reward for your efforts today. Let me know if something catches your fancy, and I’ll give you the seeds for it.”
If gleeful at first—to see the mythical market, to do something normal and commonplace—suspicion quickly followed. “Why?”
“I told you—you did well today.” He looked innocent enough—or as innocent as Pete could look. “That’s all.”
“You wouldn’t be trying to bribe me, would you?”
“Bribe you? Why would I do that? Waste a sum from my own purse on the slim chance that I might sweeten you into helping me kill Gentian?” His mouth quirked. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
Oh, you wheedling rascal—
“If this reward you’re offering has strings attached, then keep it. Your gifts won’t affect my decision—whatever it is in the end.”
As I strode back to the wagon to scrounge up some of that jerky he’d mentioned, I heard him say, “We’ll see,” under his breath.
