Storm Born. Richelle Mead

if you kill me.”

      “We won’t kill you,” said Rurik cheerfully. “We have plenty of other things we can do. You’ll still get to the king…eventually.”

      Volusian fixed his red eyes on Rurik. “And how do you think Dorian will feel when he learns you’ve been at her before him? The king’s tastes are quite…particular.”

      In another situation, I would have decked Volusian. Whose side was he on anyway? Stupid question, I realized a moment later. He was on his own side. As always.

      The gentry all appeared put out. They looked like they really wanted to kill someone. The woman verified as much.

      “They’ve killed our people. We cannot let that go unpunished.”

      One of the other female riders strode forward. “No, actually. Everyone’s still alive. Some just barely…but if we can get a healer out here fast enough, they’ll live.”

      All alive? So much for Team Eugenie. I’d known gentry were stronger in their own world, but this…It didn’t bode well for our gallant attack on Aeson and his people. Next time I’d aim for the face. I doubted they’d come back from that.

      “Let’s kill the weak human anyway,” suggested one of the others, “just for fun. We can still bring her to the king.”

      “The king’s going to offer me hospitality,” I informed them, still talking out of my ass, “for my whole group. He’ll be pissed if you kill one of them. It’ll make him look bad.”

      I was lying, and Shaya looked like she knew it. “You seem very sure of yourself, Odile, but I’m less convinced.”

      The other woman crossed her arms. “We have to get a healer. We need to go back for help now.”

      Shaya thought about this and then gave a sharp nod. She delegated people to stay with the wounded and others to escort my party back. Before she did, she ordered me disarmed. Rurik made a great show of this, touching me a lot more than was really necessary as he took away the athames—handle first, of course—and wand. When he wrapped his fingers around the butt of the gun, a look of shock crossed his face and he recoiled.

      “Damn it!” he swore, cradling his hand. “It’s…I don’t know what it is. But it doesn’t feel…right.”

      I smiled sweetly. Thank God for polymers. Almost as effective as iron.

      The commanding woman’s eyes flashed. “Someone take it from her.”

      No one moved.

      “All right, then, one of you spirits. You take it.”

      My minions didn’t move.

      “They don’t take orders from you,” I said, parodying her earlier words.

      “They do from you. Order one of them to do it now, or I will have the life squeezed out of your friend, regardless of King Dorian’s anger.”

      I studied her, trying to decide if she bluffed. Wil suddenly made a piteous sound as the golden aura around him tightened. God, I hoped Volusian was right about this Dorian ridiculousness.

      “Nandi,” I said simply.

      She strode forward and removed the gun from me. One of the riders offered up a cape so she could bundle it up. When it looked like a smothered baby, he reluctantly took it.

      As for me, I was hoisted onto Rurik’s horse for the trip back to Dorian’s. The spirits needed no such transportation.

      He wrapped his arms around me, ostensibly to reach the reins, but I was pretty sure he didn’t need to touch my breasts to do it. His hold tightened.

      “I wouldn’t want you to fall off,” he explained.

      “I’m going to cut your balls off the first chance I get,” I informed him.

      “Ah,” he laughed, urging the horse into motion. “I can’t wait for you to meet the king. He’s going to love you.”