Errant, p.38
Errant, page 38
“Aspen, that feels so good,” Charm said, low and raspy. “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Aspen said. She kissed Charm’s neck again, rolled her nipple between two fingers, and brushed her thumb over the swollen peak of her sex. Charm pressed eagerly against her hand. Aspen plunged in deeper, rubbing circles with her thumb, and Charm’s breath quickened. She came with a series of ever-higher and longer gasps, the last one shuddering and falling into satisfied silence.
Aspen nuzzled her neck, drunk on pleasure.
Charm sagged against her. “If you pick me up and put me over there, we can finally use the bed.”
It was only a couple of paces away, but Aspen swung Charm into her arms and deposited her on the down mattress among all the piled blankets and pillows. Flat on her back and still hazy-eyed, Charm looked as gorgeous as Aspen had ever seen her. They hadn’t had nearly enough time to explore each other. Tonight wouldn’t be enough.
“You have too many clothes on,” Charm said. “Strip and come sit right here.”
Aspen ought to be beyond blushing, but the casual command and the way Charm’s fingers brushed her mouth undid her. She fumbled with the buttons on her vest, dragged her loose shirt over her head, and bent to undo her boots.
“You’re so beautiful,” Charm said. She’d propped herself up on some pillows to watch.
“I’m mostly scars.” Aspen wrestled her boots off and peeled her trousers down her legs. She only had the one tattoo—and that was its own kind of scar—but she was marked in so many other ways.
“Come here,” Charm said, and when Aspen lay alongside her, she pointed to a puckered, round scar on Aspen’s thigh. “What’s this one?”
“Crossbow bolt. Actually, it was Strength who pulled it out.”
Charm made a face. “Don’t remind me how much of your body she’s seen.”
“Charm, you know we never—it wasn’t like that with us.”
“Only because you can never tell when anyone is flirting with you,” Charm said. “And it was like that with Ayzeh.”
“It was,” Aspen said. “But that was a long time ago. I’m here now.”
“How about this one?” Charm traced a long, silvered line up Aspen’s other leg.
“Knife fight, I think,” Aspen said. “It gets harder to keep track.”
“And here?” Charm tapped a small, pale pink blotch of scar tissue above Aspen’s hip bone.
“Smallsword. Ran me right through and came damn close to killing me. My own fault, really. You can’t let people get anywhere near your organs.”
“I think it was the fault of the person thrusting the smallsword into your gut, but sure,” Charm said. She kissed the scar, then worked her way up Aspen’s chest, asking about every little injury, dropping kisses as she went.
Aspen thought they’d finished when Charm kissed her mouth.
Charm brushed Aspen’s hair from her forehead. “The Moon witches all stared at these,” she said, lightly touching the two small, neatly round scars just above her hairline. “I don’t think you got them in a fight.”
Aspen laughed—as much as she could laugh at that, anyway. “I did, actually. A very long, slow fight that looked, from the outside, like a marriage.”
“Your husband did this to you?”
“In a way,” Aspen said. “You know I’m of the Wood.”
“Your name is Aspen Silverglade. Of course I know you’re Wood.”
“My husband found me there. I thought we were in love. He uprooted me and took me to Harstead, but once we were there, he didn’t like how much I stood out from everyone else in the city. He wanted me to dress differently, to eat beef, to stay indoors. He didn’t like that no matter how well I adopted Earth customs, everyone could always tell I was Wood from my antlers.”
“Aspen,” Charm said. She entangled her fingers with Aspen’s and gripped hard.
“When he asked me to find a Moon witch to remove them, I did. I thought it would make things better between us.”
“I’m glad he’s dead,” Charm said. “Do you want them back? Is that what the Moon witch in Nauvis was offering you?”
“It was,” Aspen said. “And I don’t know. I’ve been without them a long time. My scars aren’t pretty, but neither is the rest of me. They tell a story about the life I’ve lived.”
“‘Neither is the rest of me’?” Charm demanded, incredulous. “I didn’t pine for months for you to have such a low opinion of yourself—or me. Do you think I would settle for anyone who wasn’t stunning? I am the most sought-after and beloved actor in two capitals. I can have anyone I want. Come here and I will show you.”
She flopped backward. Aspen kissed her on the mouth.
Charm grabbed her by the shoulders and said, “Not that I don’t love your kisses, but I meant for you to suffocate me between your gorgeous thighs and you know it.”
“Suffo—”
“I would pick you up and put you here if I could,” Charm said. “Instead you’ll have to do as you’re told.”
Heat crept up Aspen’s neck. It was easy to take orders when the goal was pleasing Charm, less so when the goal was her own pleasure. What Charm wanted from her—to do nothing, to take without giving anything in return—wasn’t something she’d often done with lovers. Not that she’d had many lovers. It set her off balance, being the sole focus of someone’s attention. She felt exposed.
Still, Aspen wasn’t going to say no. She knelt over Charm’s face, her thighs spread. The first touch of Charm’s lips, sweet and fierce, made her grab the headboard for support. But it was her tongue, moving artfully in languid strokes, that made Aspen close her eyes and whisper Charm’s name.
Wrapping her arms around Aspen’s thighs, Charm delved deeper. The wave of sensation overwhelmed Aspen. She could only cling to the headboard and feel. There could be no doubt that Charm loved this, wanted it, was reveling in it almost as much as Aspen. One velvet sweep of her tongue blended into the next. Aspen trembled as desire spiraled tighter inside her, shrinking down to the spark between her legs and then breaking open into a shivery heat that washed over every part of her.
She unclenched her hands from the headboard, surprised to see the wood still intact, and melted down into the bed next to Charm. She let out a gust of breath. “You’re really good at that.”
“I know.” Charm wiped a hand across her lips and smiled.
“I wish we weren’t splitting up in the morning,” Aspen said.
“Me too,” Charm said. “But think of it this way: splitting up tomorrow is how we make sure we can get back together in the future—without worrying about the Scale.”
“You’re right, of course.” Above them, the warehouse ceiling beams sloped toward their peak, hidden in shadow. This little loft was a lovely safe haven, but it wasn’t home. They couldn’t stay here forever. And Charm wanted a future with her. That was worth fighting for.
“Besides,” Charm said, “we have a lot of hours left until morning, so let’s make the most of them.”
3
Charm did some of her best work tiring Aspen out, but the woman was somehow still awake at an unnatural hour. When Charm grumbled and tried to keep Aspen in bed, Aspen chuckled and brushed her lips against Charm’s forehead. She lingered long enough to say goodbye and to kiss Charm’s mouth.
It was a soft kiss, more like the kisses they’d exchanged at the end of their lovemaking last night. There was something of a promise in it, a promise to return. Charm blinked her eyes open and woke up enough to catch Aspen’s wrist in her grip. She tugged Aspen in for a firmer kiss, not an answering promise but a demand that Aspen stay alive.
And then Charm let Aspen go, because if she followed Aspen to the main floor of the warehouse, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to watch her leave. That, and Charm was too proud to be jealous of a horse, and if she had to watch Aspen ride off with only Mouse, it would reveal unflattering things about Charm’s character.
It helped that Charm had a task of her own. She had something to think about, first packing her things, and then joining Strength and her crew for their own departure. Joy, who still looked intimidating even early in the morning, was tasked with rounding up the others who’d volunteered to journey to Harstead.
Strength and her people would accompany Charm to meet up with the troupe as Charm gathered her own allies. How different the two groups were—hardened fighters from Ainbridge and Charm’s actors. They’d all chosen to come together for Aspen, who, despite everyone willing to assist her, was on her own right now.
Would she be all right?
Charm knew that Aspen could hold her own in a fight, but she wasn’t going to Harstead to fight. She was going to surrender, or at the very least, play at it.
If Aspen didn’t fight, her survival depended on Pike. At least they could count on Pike’s vindictive streak. He wouldn’t kill Aspen until he was able to use her for his purpose, whatever it was. There would probably be some long, taunting monologues in there as well.
Still, Aspen’s days were numbered once the Scale delivered her to Pike. They couldn’t afford to dawdle. Charm packed her saddlebags the way Aspen had taught her and then secured them so they wouldn’t bounce.
Charm took her first meal on the road, eating bits of bread and cheese as she and her companions set out to cross the Ain River. There were several bridges, but Strength took them to an overgrown part of the riverbank. They dismounted and led the horses down to a rickety dock where a tall, broad-shouldered person waited with a boat just big enough to take one horse at a time.
“Guards question everyone at all the bridge crossings, and they deny people passage more often than not,” Strength explained as she handed a few coins to the ferry owner. “This’ll take some time, but we’ll get there.”
The ferry owner, who had a beard to rival Joy’s and a small axe clipped to their belt, grinned, showing a mouth under the bush of hair. They were a person of few words—certainly no names—and they worked in efficient silence to get the party across the river.
When her turn came around, Charm wondered if Aspen would hate this little ferry trip the way she’d hated their time on the ship.
Once across the river and away from the entangled bank, everyone mounted again.
“Oh, you were such a good, good girl, weren’t you? Not scared of that water at all.” Mercy patted their horse’s head. “My brave girl, Beauty.”
Soar scoffed, and Charm recognized the start of a familiar argument, even before Soar and Mercy began bickering over how Mercy supposedly spoiled their horse and how Soar didn’t give hers enough love. Strength stayed out of it, except for an occasional fond glance at the two teenagers that made Charm’s heart clench in sympathy.
It made her doubt, for a moment, the wisdom in recruiting allies. Yes, it certainly made it more likely that Aspen would survive to enjoy her life, post-Scale, but it put so many others in danger. Charm was selfish enough that she cared about Aspen’s future more than the futures of people she barely knew, but Aspen wouldn’t see it the same way. If anything happened to either of these kids…
“Ride up with me,” Strength said, breaking through Charm’s dark thoughts. “I could use some adult company.”
Naturally, Mercy and Soar abandoned their playful bickering to heckle Strength. Charm laughed softly at their teasing and obligingly guided Ruby up to ride beside Strength.
“You have the look of a new recruit,” Strength said.
“Young?” Charm asked.
“Spooked,” Strength answered. “Aspen wouldn’t hold it against you if you stayed with your troupe while we wrapped this up.”
It was tempting. Charm had played the heroine in more than one play, but it was different doing it on stage than in real life. But even if she wasn’t the bravest or the strongest, she didn’t abandon her friends when they needed her.
“Did Aspen put you up to this?” Charm asked. On the one hand, Aspen was overly concerned with Charm’s safety. On the other, she was far more likely to talk to Charm directly than use a go-between.
“She told me not to,” Strength said. She hummed and then amended her statement. “She told me not to involve her in it. She said you had your mind made up. And maybe you do, and I’ll respect that. But I’ll also respect you if you sit this one out.”
“I’m not a fighter like you and your crew. I don’t have the history with the Scale that Aspen has, but Aspen is important to me. That makes this my business. My troupe can cause a distraction, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve if we need them. I’m going to help.”
Strength didn’t try to talk Charm out of her position. She grinned and shook her head. “She has a charisma to her, doesn’t she, our Aspen? She doesn’t even realize it. Integrity was molding her into his successor. Everyone could see it except for her. It’s why Pike never liked her.”
Our Aspen. Charm expected to feel at least a stirring of jealousy, but there was nothing—except fondness and perhaps even a bit of comradery. Aspen was theirs. In different ways, but friendship was at the base of both their relationships.
“Do you think that’s what she wants?” Charm asked. “To remake the Scale?”
“If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have told you Aspen would give her life to the Scale. What she wants has changed.” Strength gave Charm a knowing look. “She’ll always want to help people, and she’ll never lose her knack for getting herself in over her head, but she’ll do it in a different way.”
Charm wondered what shape that might take. Rescuing more women from handsy drunks in taverns? Breaking up other protection rackets? Keeping the law from forcing women to share their homes and lives with men who’d mistreated them? Reuniting lost kids with their parents?
It didn’t matter if Aspen herself was in danger or if she was trying to enjoy a well-earned break, she always offered whatever aid she could. Charm couldn’t promise Aspen a network like the Scale, but she could offer Aspen a place in her wagon. The troupe traveled enough that Aspen would be able to scout cities and nearby villages for trouble. And Charm would be there to lend a hand.
In the early days, Charm had wanted to be around Aspen, but hadn’t believed their lives were compatible. There were ways to make it happen, though. It would take work, and it wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was close enough that Charm would make the offer.
But all her plans would have to wait until they ensured there was a future for the both of them.
Strength noticed the smoke from the fire before Charm did. She looked over at Charm and asked, “Friends of yours?” even as she tapped her sword hilt to reassure herself of the weapon in easy reach.
Charm nodded. She’d spoken with Flick the night before. They’d agreed the troupe would act as if everything was normal, circle the wagons, have a bonfire, and that was how Charm would find them.
As they approached the wagon circle, Charm could hear the loud singing, another signal that this was Charm’s troupe and not another group of travelers. It was a bawdy drinking song, the kind made to be sung off-key. Most of the troupe could sing, so the mess assaulting Charm’s ears meant they’d been carousing.
“Oh, I know this one,” Mercy said as the lyrics became clearer. “This is illegal in Rispland.”
“You’ll be hard pressed to find anything about my troupe that is legal in Rispland,” Charm said and then she dismounted and led Ruby on foot the final distance.
Joining the wagon circle felt like coming home. The bonfire was larger than usual, impossible to miss, and Charm could feel the heat from the flames even from a distance. She was greeted by her fellow actors, each of whom wanted to hug or kiss her and then fuss over her or demand to know everything that had happened since the last time they talked to her.
“Flick is stingy with details,” Essi complained after hugging Charm tightly.
“Am not,” Flick countered. Her scales glimmered green today. They caught the light from the flames and glittered like precious gemstones. She was the first to greet Charm, and she circled back for a second hug, this one longer than the first. “We’re glad you’re back.”
No one mentioned the lack of Aspen, even though Charm could see a few looking around for her. Flick must have shared some details, then.
“Are you going to introduce your friends?” Sorrel asked. His antlers jutted out from his forehead and then branched off into what Essi teasingly called an impressive rack. He glanced at Mercy and Soar and gave them a friendly smile before he turned his full attention to Strength.
The smile he gave her was far too heated and lingering to be described as friendly. Essi came up beside Sorrel and linked her arm through Sorrel’s. She angled her body so she wouldn’t accidentally get hit with Sorrel’s antlers. The look she gave Strength was no less heated than Sorrel’s.
“This is Mercy, they, and The One Who Soars to Great Heights, she,” Charm said, motioning to each teen in turn.
“Soar is fine,” Soar said with a little smile. She tucked her wings close to her body.
“And Strength Dyer Lark, she,” Charm said with a flourish. She gave the woman a pointed look as Strength gave a little bow. “That is how you do an introduction.”
Strength’s smile turned mischievous as she straightened and then stretched, calling attention to the muscled lines of her body. “If you’re jealous I didn’t roll around with you at our first meeting, we can fix it now.”
“In that alley? I would have figured out how to land a punch if you ruined my dress with rotting cabbage and mud.”
“Ew.” Sorrel wrinkled his nose. “Let’s hear this story with a little less realism.”
