Kings and Sirens (The Blood Falls Book 2)

I felt like a million bucks. Like I was stronger, lighter, and more powerful than ever. I woke early and went for a jog through the forest. I ate a hearty breakfast. The sun was brighter, the air crisper, and the smells more vibrant.

Sex with Atsila was mind altering. Oh, today he’d pretend it never happened or that he only enjoyed it a little, or whatever silly lies he needed to tell himself. But I was there. I saw the way he lost himself. The way he let his sadness escape and replaced it, although temporarily, with unbridled joy. What we did last night was just as earth-shattering to him.

So as I joined the small convoy heading north, I did so at peace with what was to come.

“Why don’t we just shift to the Line?” This was a supply run as well, so I understood the need for the carts, but why couldn’t Atsila and I simply shift there so he could begin his work?

Klah, Kuruk, Daisy, and four others were joining us. Daisy supervised and barked orders about what went where. “You know how every time someone shifts through the Plane it ripples?”

Like a boat through water. “Yes.”

“Well, the Salishan can detect that. So if we shift, they’ll know where we are.”

Like holding up a light and screaming, Here I am. “So travel by foot. Got it. How long does it take?”

She glared at Kuruk. “If we can finish loading already we’ll be there by nightfall.”

“Almost done, princess.” He sounded frustrated, but he also winked at her.

“Lyla is my sister so Kuruk thinks it’s funny to call me princess.”

“What’s it like having a sister who is a queen?”

“No, those boxes go there!” She barked at Atsila, pointing at the second cart. “It’s not that hard. I labeled everything myself. Ugh. This is what happens when we try to make a supply run before a festival. Everyone’s hungover or still drunk.” She twisted her hair away. “Having a sister who is also a queen can be very annoying. She thinks she’s in charge even when at home. But it also has its advantages. For instance, I’m in charge of planning and rationing, something I’m very good at but would have probably had to wait a few more years to get the job. What about you?”

I shrugged. “The House of Wren is different. Dray, my brother, is the head of the House, but he’s not like a king. He’s more like a grouchy CEO who doesn’t like coming out of his office.”

Daisy frowned, then went back to work, forgetting all about me. The convoy got on the road and I spent most of the trip eavesdropping on other conversations and appreciating the scenery. It was all forest except for the well-worn trails. Towering trees, vines, and nature. We caught sight of deer several times. Birds chirped and sang. It was only as we approached the Line at dusk that I realized the males had been taking turns running ahead as scouts to make sure no stray Salishan interrupted our journey.

“This is it?” My neck craned as my eyes searched up, up, up. The trees were thick here, creating a wall of sorts. I saw ropes at regular intervals but no matter how high I looked, I couldn’t determine where they went.

Daisy nodded once. “A physical and metaphysical wall. The trees aren’t impenetrable, obviously, but they’re so thick it’s difficult to navigate. We added a metaphysical barrier like the one you encountered when you arrived.” We pulled to a stop beside rows of hammocks. They were like stalls, regularly spaced apart with tables beside them. Each one had a lamp and a smattering of personal supplies. I realized most of the hammocks were occupied. Beside each hammock were ropes. Now that we were just below them I could see they eventually reached a rope bridge system far above.

Atsila came beside me for the first time all day. His eyes were hard and his jaw set. But it all softened just a bit as his eyes swept over me. “Welcome to the Line.”

The men and women in the hammocks woke at our arrival and immediately began helping off-load the carts. I mostly stood out of the way taking in every detail I could before darkness fell. The hammock stalls went on for several thousand yards in either direction, divided into three sets. Between the first and second was a communal eating space. That’s where the supplies went. There were long tables and benches for eating and an outdoor kitchen along the side away from the Line. Between the second and third section were the showers.

Everyone I saw seemed exhausted and sad. The exact opposite of the Heida gathering for Midnight Dreams. The newly awoken hammock sleepers returned to their cots while the rest of us gathered near the kitchen.

“I’ll eat after I walk the Line,” Atsila said to Daisy.

She nodded, thinking. “You can’t fix everything tonight. Make sure you sleep.”

“I will.”

“I won’t inventory until morning. There’s no sense in working in the dark. We’ll be sleeping in the open stalls at the end of Section One.”

Atsila nodded once and grunted. “I’ll take whatever is open when I return.”

Daisy’s eyebrows shot up. “You think you’ll be that long?”

“It will be good to monitor the night shift now instead of waiting a day.” He shot a glance my way. “Unlike my brothers, I slept well last night.”

Warmth and electricity washed over my skin like a blanket as memories of Atsila’s hands on me kindled to life in my mind.

“Very well then. Get to work.” Daisy shooed him off and turned to Klah and Kuruk. “Klah, go with him. You too, Shawk.”

The other men trundled off after Atsila. Daisy ran a finger down Kuruk’s chest. “You and me, at the lake after dinner.”

A slow grin pulled up his lips. “Yes, princess.”

“But first we eat.”

His eyes sparkled. “Yes, princess.”

I felt like I was watching something I shouldn’t, so I turned away to see how the kitchen worked. Three females seemed to be in charge of preparing the evening meal. They barked out orders at the five males who stirred large pots, cut loaves of bread, and butchered hunks of meat. Trays upon trays upon trays of food lined a long stone wall that separated the kitchen from the tables beyond.

Kuruk moved past me, picking up two trays and walking them over to the closest table where Daisy and the rest of the crew were settling in. I climbed onto the bench beside Daisy.

“So what is life like at the Line?” I assumed all the food was for a lot of samhain.

Kuruk shoved a hunk of meat in his mouth, chewed three times and swallowed. “Two shifts. Day and night. Hot bunking. Each hammock is for one crew. While the day shift is on, the night shift is sleeping. Then they swap. At shift end they come down from the treetops. Half shower and half eat. Then they swap. No partying or socializing here. Once you’re fed and clean, your ass is in a sling. Not that you can stay awake anyway.”

Two pitchers of beer were dropped on the end of the table with a tray covered in mugs. Tekmet, one of the new Heida I met on our journey today, poured and passed until we all had a drink. “I did a stint on the Line. It was the most exhausting six months of my life.”

“How does that work? Do you volunteer? Are you chosen?”

Everyone seemed to trade a look. Was it because I was an outsider or because the truth wasn’t pleasant?

Daisy ripped off a piece of bread and began nibbling. “We prefer to be alone. It’s hard for us to socialize for long periods of time. Being on the Line takes its toll. It’s part of why the stalls are so important. Otherwise we’d go mad.” She took another bite and chewed carefully before finishing her answer. “Volunteers are welcome but since we’ve had to man the Line for so long we had to develop a system. Every Heida must serve two years after the age of maturity. Service is broken up into six-month chunks for health reasons. Beyond that…”

Everyone suddenly seemed very interested in their food.

“Beyond that?”

Kuruk finished off his beer. “Widows and orphans, Leena. The lonely.”

Now that I understood the Line better, the sadness I felt made more sense. As we finished our meal the day shift ended and half of the crew descended from the treetops on the ropes that hung in each stall. They meandered off to the showers or for food while the night shift woke up. I watched them as they sat up and stretched. Some changed clothes, others didn’t. Everyone pulled a satchel from the table and began eating what looked like sandwiches or bread and cheese, along with a beer that had been set on each table just before the shift change.

When they were done they used the ropes to haul themselves up to the treetops. That’s when the second half of the day shift dropped down and switched with their counterparts.

So there was overlap there. Probably not the source of the holes in the Line, but not impossible. Shift changes were always a weak point in anything.

I settled into my assigned hammock. It was right on the edge of the dining area, so it was noisy at first, but then settled into a dark calm, only the clanking of dishes and pots being cleaned and put away until the next shift change. The light on my nightstand could be hung from a hook in the tree above my hammock, so I moved it for better lighting while I read.

Well, sort of read. I mostly enjoyed the gentle sway of the hammock while staring up at the trees. It was like being a fairy in a fantasy book. Insects buzzed and chirped in the darkness and there were the occasional hoots or howls of animals, but it was mostly quiet. The trees towered above, swaying even more than my hammock. The leaves rustled and in the dark they took on shapes from the beautiful to the terrifying. I could only make out the rope bridge when someone was moving. Then it bounced and wiggled enough to distinguish it from the trees.

After a while I began to doze with my book open on my chest. The sides of the hammock came up around me enough to provide privacy. A gauzy curtain could be drawn around for even more privacy—and probably to keep out the bugs—but I hadn’t pulled mine yet. Something I regretted when Daisy and Kuruk returned.

They were all whispers and quiet grunts as they put out the light and pulled the curtain, falling into the same hammock together, but it was loud enough that my cheeks flushed red at the sounds of their pleasure.

Apparently an hour alone in the lake together was just foreplay. Or at least a different kind of sex from what they were doing now. I wondered how it worked in a hammock. They were very sturdy, so there was no danger of collapsing, but all the swaying? There was nowhere really to brace. So maybe it was all fingers and tongues and gentle movements.

I liked the idea of that as much as I enjoyed all the wild, out of control, things Atsila and I had done the night before. Maybe even more so.

It was hard not to imagine what we’d do in a hammock, what with all the moaning coming from two hammocks over. My nipples tingled against the soft fabric of my shirt as I remembered Atsila’s fingers rolling and tugging them. I tapped the Plane and extinguished my lantern, then ran my own fingers over my nipples, bringing the memory to life.

“Oh yes, Kuruk. Yes!” Daisy moaned. “More there. Mmmmm, yes.”

Kuruk grunted in reply. “Fuck yes. Fuck yes!”

I remembered the way Atsila filled me, the way he rubbed at my clit. I did the same, trying to make it feel like my memory. It almost worked.

“Ahhhhh!” They both moaned as they came.

I tugged and rubbed, feeling exposed now that there was quiet, but not willing to give up my orgasm when it was so close.

“Good night my love,” Kuruk said.

“Sleep well.”

I tried to keep my breath even as my fingers flew over my clit and rubbed at my nipple. Especially when I heard the crunch, crunch, crunch of feet on dried leaves and dirt. A large presence stood beside me, then fell into the hammock. His scent filtered through my hammock to my nose.

Familiar.

Arousing.

Atsila.

Just there. Within reach. I could ask him to finish me off. Would he? Probably not. Could he hear me? Smell me? Did he know I was beside him and what I was doing?

The thought sent a thrill through me, pushing me over the edge. With one last roll of my nipple my vision went white. I mashed my lips together to silence my breaths, rubbed slower and gentler until the orgasm subsided and my inner muscles stopped squeezing.

My hands relaxed beside me as I listened. No sounds at all. Not a snore, not a breath, not cloth moving against fabric. Maybe he was already asleep.

Or maybe he was touching himself thinking of me, too.