Page 35 of The Ember and the Emerald

“You’ve killed my brothers. They are me, and I am they. We are him.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No. You are you.”

He paid me no heed. “Elowen has killed me, too. Now you both work to slaughter my kind. How could I ever allow myself to care about you?”

10

FACE ON, FACE OFF

Isat with Jasher’s words for several long minutes.

“I told you,” I finally said. Uneasy, I massaged my nape. “With the Ember, I’ll sever all clones from Ian.”

He snorted. “You are more of a fool than I realized. The Ember isn’t—” He smashed his lips together, saying nothing more.

So. He knew something about the Ember, and he didn’t want me to learn it.

I nodded, eager for him to go on. He merely snapped his teeth, then piled the cooked fish on two leaf plates. He actually passed one to me.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

No response.

We ate in silence, and I thought and thought and thought. The Ember wasn’t, what?

What I assumed it was?

Viable anymore?

Located in Hakeldama?

When I swallowed the last bite, I grumbled, “Keep your secrets if you want.” I wouldn’t force him to spill, no matter how desperately I wished to. And I wouldn’t bargain, paying his price for answers.

He tipped his head, all innate grace and carnal indulgence. I caught myself fidgeting as his gaze bore into me, too intense and too different for my liking. Gooseflesh broke out. “Perhaps I’ll win you to my side.”

Oh dang. He’d just brought out the big guns. I decided to respond with nonchalance. “You’ll fail, but if you want to flirt a little, I probably wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m ten steps ahead of you, princess.” He snuffed out the fire. “I’m already flirting, and you’re already loving it.”

And dozens more goosebumps popped out.

Reclining against the tree again, Jasher tapped his claws against the dirt in a slow, predatory rhythm. Shadows rushed up to nuzzle his dusky skin, as he searched my face, cataloging every nuance.

“Do you remember the journal the Guardian kept locked away? The one he used to help him subjugate the whole kingdom?” Jasher asked, all casual curiosity. “I wonder if it’s the one you’re holding.”

Acid filled my stomach. What if I’d carried Ian’s weapon straight into his hands?

Footsteps pressed through dead leaves, reaching my ears. One set. Two. A cluster. Adrenaline rocketed through my veins, turning my limbs into tight springs. I shoved the journal into the pack and rushed to stand. Whether the approaching men were friends or foes didn’t matter. I must protect Jasher, my father’s thoughts, and the serpens-rosa. All valuable commodities many would kill to possess.

Cluck Cluck squawked.

Jasher’s expression cooled. He flexed his claws with the lazy menace of a cat. “Do not command me to hide or flee,” he warned, voice low. “I’ll obey, because I must, but I’ll also make you suffer in ways you cannot fathom.”

“Scary.” Decision time. Either I ordered him to follow me like a good boy, or I let him turn this little oasis into a battleground. No way the people, even innocent travelers, would pass him without a fight. They would fear and attack him.

The footsteps grew louder, pace increasing, twigs snapping.

He turned thoughtful. “Soldiers. Twenty-one of them. All armed. Better pick your path, princess.”