Feel the Burn by Nicole MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page A

stepped closer, a hand to the back of her chair and she twisted back, staring at the shirt in her lap, pale fingers pleating the fabric. Ignatius waited, considering what food might tempt her. He needed her to eat something; the poison Elena gave him would be obvious in a glass of water. The dying light of the sun glinted off the mass of red hair before him, its varying shades catching his eye and his chest throbbed at the reminder of the fresh burns that hair, in her elemental form, had given him. Ignatius hunched his shoulders a little, lifting the fabric of his shirt off the seared skin. His mind drifted to Alek again and that witch. While he couldn’t stand the creature, he felt a certain measure of gratitude toward the events that had occured. The problem of what to do with Alek now wasn’t an issue and even when they got back from this mission, Yakov wouldn’t be a problem either. Two major components of his plan solved before they’d even set forth. A smirk touched his lips and his hand tightened on the back of Catherine’s seat. He started in surprise when she spoke.
    ‘There was a drink I had at Lothost. It was thick and creamy. Do you know what it might have been?’
    The smirk left his lips, replaced by a smile of relief. That would certainly hide the poison.
    ‘I’d guess it was nellor, Highness. They often give it to invalids or those who can’t eat. It would be good for you, I’ll fetch some now.’
    In the kitchen the cook, flushed from the heat of the massive ovens, frowned at Ignatius.
    ‘She should be eating something!’
    ‘Can’t you add an egg to it?’
    The low smooth tones of Leseach’s voice set Ignatius’ teeth on edge and he refused to turn and acknowledge her, but nodded to the cook.
    ‘Yes! That’ll make it better.’
    The cook grumbled, not fully satisfied but set to making the drink while he and the Northerner watched. Knowing she stood just behind him caused a knot of muscles between his shoulder blades to tighten and he twisted to glare at the blond alien, hating the way she could nearly look him in the eyes with her extreme height.
    ‘I don’t believe I require your assistance.’
    Her queerly striped eyes regarded him flatly.
    ‘Rashid suggested we discuss the sleeping arrangements with guarding the Princess. I understand you have specific orders from the Archduchess to watch over her?’
    Relief at not having to demand the right or create an explanation for sleeping in Catherine’s room allowed Ignatius to ignore the Northerner’s disgruntled tone.
    ‘Yes! She did ask that of me. I’ll sleep at the foot of her bed. Will you and Rashid take shifts watching the door?’
    ‘As well as Belsesus. I’m assuming whatever Elena gave you will cause the Princess to sleep for eight to nine hours so we’ll take three hour shifts each.’
    The casualness with which the Northerner stated it irritated him and he snapped, ‘What makes you think Elena gave me such a thing?’
    ‘No matter your opinion of my kind, Ignatius, we are far from stupid. And I know how a sleeping potion works, though I’m curious as to what the Sorceress used. It must be quite strong.’
    Leseach said it matter-of-factly and the patronizing look she accompanied it with only served to tighten that knot of muscles more.
    ‘If you need any help with the dosage let me know.’
    She turned and left the kitchen while he snarled, ‘I’ll be fine. The task was entrusted to me.’
    He glared after her, inwardly berating himself for allowing the alien to annoy him. At the sound of a soft cough he turned and the cook flinched at his withering look. The elvan half-breed timidly offered a large mug.
    ‘It’s ready, Sir.’
    With the excuse of needing to grab a bedroll from his room, Ignatius carried the drink to his quarters and set it on the desk. After locking the door, he quickly extracted the wrapped parcel from its hiding place in the back of the desk. With cautious hands he slowly removed the wrapping,