"What!" Karlene had heaved herself halfway to her feet when Gyhard moved

into the firelight and she saw the look on his face. "That's not funny!"

"It was for a moment." He turned to Vree, and the grin disappeared. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and crossed to where her dagger lay almost hidden in the

shadows. When she picked it up, it felt as though it no longer belonged in her hand.

"Vree?"

"We missed." The weapon lay cold and unforgiving across her palm. She looked from it to Gyhard; to a familiar face. "We never miss."

"Never miss..." Bannon echoed. Or perhaps he'd spoken aloud, and she'd been the one who'd merely thought it.

"Everyone misses once in a while," Gyhard said softly. "It doesn't make you less then you were."

"No. More." She tried to hide the fear in a bitter laugh. "We react as one. We throw as two." Dropping her gaze, she sheathed the blade. "What happens if we're attacked?"

Attacked. Gyhard kept his expression carefully neutral. He hadn't told them what had happened back by the village; had ridden behind the two women until the rain had washed away all the visible signs and then the storm had made conversation difficult. And now? Although he remained a target for as long as he remained in Bannon's body, the a.s.sa.s.sin was dead. He suspected that the moment the army received the corpse the hunt would be up again, but for now he was safe and therefore had no need to set Vree specifically guarding her brother's body. No need to cause her more distress than she already endured.

"Who's going to attack us out here?" he asked, gesturing with his right arm-his left carefully immobilized by a thumb through a belt loop. The shoulder was only bruised, but moving it twisted barbed spikes of pain in the muscle. The storm had helped him hide it all afternoon. "Bandits? They'd have to be pretty stupid ones considering how seldom this road is used."

"And there're no wild animals this close to the center of the Empire," Karlene offered.

"No bandits? No wild animals?" Vree's voice rose. "What the slaughtering difference does that make? We missed a target we should've been able to hit in our sleep!" She stomped back to the fire and dropped down to sit cross-legged beside it.

Gyhard's hand hovered over her hair. When he saw Karlene watching him, he let it fall back to his side. "I think..." He paused with exaggerated politeness while the bard sneezed. "I think we should get out of these wet clothes and let them dry."

Vree had no difficulty identifying the source of a sudden, intense rush of heat. Bannon's thoughts. Her thoughts. All at once, it became very easy to tell them apart.

"The four of us, naked by the fire, keeping warm on a cool, damp, summer night..."

"Slaughter it, Bannon, with everything else that's going on, how can you keeping thinking about f.u.c.king all the time?"

"Maybe because I can only think about it as long as I'm in your body!" He turned her head so she could see Gyhard stepping out of the wide folds of his trousers.

"I had no idea you were such a prude."

As the firelight flickered over the hard curves of her brother's thighs and belly, she felt Bannon's desire. It was easy to hide her desire within it. "And I never knew you were such a pervert," she snapped, dragging dripping folds of silk over

her head. When she emerged, still staring at Gyhard, her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't lift it over your head, you've barely managed to get your shirt off

and..." Vree leaped to her feet and stepped toward him. "There's a huge

slaughtering bruise just below your shoulder!"

"I didn't realize you knew your brother's body so well," Gyhard murmured. "The fire is throwing so little light, I can hardly see you at all."

Vree leaned closer, studying his arm. "It's swollen too. What happened?"

"My horse kicked me."

"When?"

"When you two-pardon me, Bannon; you three- rode off without me this

morning. I went off the horse, fortunately retained my grip on the reins, and while I was on the ground, he kicked me.""Vree!""Calm down, Bannon, let me find out how bad it is." "Is anything broken?"

"No."

"How much use of it have you lost?"

"About half."

"Are you in much pain."

A dark brow lifted, the upper curve of the arc disappearing under a wet curl.

"Why do you care?"

"In case you've forgotten," Vree snarled, "you're in a borrowed body. If you're feeling pain, then you've damaged it."

" a.s.shole," Bannon added.

"Touched as I am by your concern, I a.s.sure you that I am not feeling more pain

than I can cope with and nothing has been irrevocably damaged." As her fingers danced over the bruise, he became aware of his nakedness and caught her hands in his before he embarra.s.sed himself. "Please don't," he said softly.

Vree looked at him for a long moment, then freed her hands and pulled away. Wetting lips gone inexplicably dry, she said, "Just don't forget that Bannon wants his body back."

On the other side of the fire, Karlene watched and listened and half thought that Vree'd meant that last reminder for herself.

Hours later, Gyhard put another stick on the fire, watched a flame dance onto it, and smiled. He used to love to watch a fire, used to think he could see the world in the flames. The smile faded. All he saw in these flames were complications.

The bard was sound asleep, head pillowed on her arm, one bare and muddy foot sticking out from under her blanket. Her life, for all the unanswered questions, was simple; all she wanted was to Sing the prince's kigh to wherever it was kigh went.

He slid his gaze over to Vree who slept curled around her daggers. Vree wanted to save the prince as well-she had, after all spent her whole life sworn to defend the Imperial Family-but she also wanted him dead. Or out of her brother's body which, without another host, amounted to the same thing. At least now that it appeared the army knew Vree and Bannon had deserted, Vree would not have to kill the bard to protect what was no longer a secret.

But both women knew his secret, so in order to protect himself, they would both have to die.

He didn't think he could kill a bard.

He didn't want to kill Vree.

And what if the prince were alive? Did that change anything except the body he'd end up wearing?

And what about me? He looked down at the mirror balanced on his knee. Ninety years ago, I foolishly fell in love, trusted the man with whom I was in love, and pushed him off the edge of insanity. Why am I racing after him now?

Because I am responsible for what he has become.

And why am I accepting that responsibility?

Because she's made it impossible for me to hide from myself.

But once I catch up to him, what am I going to do?

He shook his head at the mirror, and Bannon's reflection shook its head back at him. And why am I sitting up, asking myself these questions in the middle of the night? Bannon's reflection offered no answer.

Shifting position slightly, he cupped his hand over the mirror and stared down at Vree.

As though she felt the weight of his regard, she stirred and opened her eyes, abruptly awake. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Why not? "Because you're beautiful."

Her brows drew in and her features subtly changed. "Leave my sister alone," she growled. "She'll only ever hate you for what you've done to me."

Oh, yes, that was why not. "Are you jealous, Bannon?"

She half rose, moving fluidly to attack. Then under the satin sheath of her skin,

her muscles spasmed and she fell to the ground, rigid and trembling.

His hand resting on the dagger by his side, Gyhard watched, wishing he hadn't

spoken, wondering which of them would win.

Her body lifted off the ground on shoulders and heels, spine arched painfully, then shuddered and collapsed.

When he moved toward her, she glared up at him and said, "Don't."

He stopped where he was. "I'm sorry."

Panting, she clutched at the blanket and wrapped it tightly around herself. "Are

you planning to apologize to Kars, too?" she asked and rolled over, back to him.

Why was it he loved her?

Because she's made it impossible for me to hide from myself.

Vree lay awake for the rest of the night, listening to him breath.

Chapter Fourteen.

Although the rain had stopped, the road remained deep in mud. More an irritant than an obstacle for those walking or riding who could take to the verges where plants held the soil together, the heavy clay would stick to the wheels of a cart, build up between the spokes, clump around the axle, and stop it cold.

Vree worked her toes in the cool embrace of wet earth and looked up. Between the pink and gold streaks of dawn, the sky was a pale silver-gray brushed lightly with cloud. The air was warm and damp and felt as if it had gone through other lungs.