When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(9)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

The rest of the guard, ones who were actually doing their jobs, stopped immediately and hovered around Pierce.

“Did he slice his throat?” Serafano.

“Gut him from head to toe?” Gerald.

“Cut off his head!” David.

“Bash him in with a rock!” Samson.

Sofia snorted and wondered briefly if they would have even protected her from Pierce and Ash had they been assassins bent on killing her.

“No.” Pierce shook his head, and grief replaced the joy once on his face. “His sword fell from his hand as he tackled the man to the ground. They scurried, each of them trying his best to retrieve the lost weapon and end the bloody mess.”

Sofia tried not to listen, she really did, but she found herself pausing as she waited for the rest of the story.

“The traitor grabbed the sword before Ash had a chance.”

“No!” Dunlan wailed. Good heavens, was he weeping?

Cornelius patted him soothingly on the back.

“Yes.” Pierce nodded. “He stabbed Ash thrice in the back, just here and here and… here.” Pierce pointed to areas on David’s back and sighed. “We thought him dead.”

“Good story?” a voice whispered behind her.

Jumping out of her skin, Sofia gasped and then slapped Ash across the shoulder. “I was merely…”

“Listening,” he supplied with a grin. “You were listening. Tell me, do stories of my escapades endear me to you? The wounded hero left for dead, closed out to the world, only to find that true love was the answer all along?” He chuckled.

Glaring, she turned away from him and waited for the rest of the story.

“I survived.” Ash pushed past her. “You can tell stories later, Pierce. The hour grows late.”

Eyes alight with mischief, Pierce gave a sarcastic bow. “To be continued.”

Groaning rose from around the circle before the men scattered. They jumped on their horses and readied themselves for the journey ahead.

“I cannot ride with the princess,” Pierce announced suddenly. “It seems that riding in carriages does not agree with me.” He looked blandly at Ash and then at Sofia. His skin was pale, his eyes sunken in.

“Will you be alright to travel?” Sofia put her hand on his shoulder. It was bad enough that she had seven guards who were at this very moment weeping over a ridiculous story!

“If the good Lord allows it.” He looked down at his feet. His shoulders heaved.

Next to him, Ash snorted. “Terrible time for you to suddenly develop such an… ailment, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ash!” Sofia scolded. “Be reasonable. Look at the man. Anyone can see he’s clearly ill!”

“All that lavish storytelling make you sick, hmm?” Ash glared.

“You will ride with me,” Sofia commanded.

Ash sputtered, “Pardon?”

“I did not stutter.”

“I know. I am just hoping my ears deceived me.”

“They didn’t.” Pierce smiled and then, as if remembering he did not feel well, held his stomach and stumbled away.

Sofia squinted after him and then shrugged.

“I cannot—” Ash touched her arm.

The minute his gloveless hand touched her skin she felt singed, burned.

“You must.”

His eyes flared for a brief moment before he looked down. “I have a horse.”

“Good for you.” She flashed him a grin. ““I have a horse as well. His name is Apple, and I’m quite certain he can walk on his own while I ride in the carriage. As will yours.”

“But—”

“Tell me…” Sofia fought to keep her temper in check. “…do you work for my cousin?”

“Yes.”

“And has he hired you to look after me? To obey me? Deliver me safely?”

Ash’s jaw flexed. “Yes.”

“Then I order you to sit in the carriage with me and be my protector. If the task is too difficult for a man who just months ago went flying off his horse, dagger raised, then go along and tell one of the guard you are too much of a coward to be alone with a woman.”

Curses exploded out of his mouth as Ash pulled her flush against his body, his grip on her arm tightening to a near pain. “I do not fear being alone with a woman.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Impossible chit.” He swore and then released her. “You are asking for trouble, mark my words.” With that, he marched off, swearing a blue streak through the peaceful Scotland air.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sometimes we hide from the world because we are afraid of what it will reveal to us if we were to truly open our eyes and accept its honesty. I’d rather live in ignorance than face the ugly truth of my existence. —The Grimm Reaper

AN HOUR INTO THEIR journey, and Ash was truly wishing God would have allowed him to breathe his last breath.

As it was, he was already painfully uncomfortable after watching Sofia sleep.

Yes. He was aroused by her sleeping.

Good God¸ he was going mad!

He clenched his teeth and looked out the window. Perhaps he could simply break the glass. Air, he needed air.

A sigh escaped her lips.

Ash told his eyes to stay put. But blast if they didn’t glance at Sofia and remain there.

His chest heaved as he watched each little sigh escape her lips, and, with each sigh, his body grew tighter, and he became more and more uncomfortable. Her pale skin was flawless. Rosebud lips pressed together and then relaxed. He found himself unable to look away from her small form as she tried to lie across the seat.

One touch.

What would it hurt?

A battle ensued in his mind. One where he told the beast within to stay put — that nothing good would come of touching her, of wanting her.

The carriage jolted. Sofia’s eyes flashed open, yet he did not, could not look away. No, he stared, like a ravenous wolf ready to pounce on its next meal.

She stared right back.

They sat in silence.

Finally, he closed his eyes, and greedily inhaled her scent. So often he used his nose as a way to hunt those that needed killing. His finely tuned instincts were exactly that, sharpened so he could be painless about finding traitors and killing them.

But now. It was all wrong. For his sensitivity was working against him. The air twitched with her slight breathing; he felt the heat radiate from her body. Want, she smelled of want. Curse him for desiring the very same thing.

Palms sweating, he kept his eyes closed.

That was, until a soft hand touched his face.