Venture Unleashed (The Venture Books) by R.H. Russell Page A

dreams right along with their pains. Lose focus, lose their edge, one party at a time.  
    Calling had a little fire pit going, where they’d been roasting sausages hours before. It had died down to almost nothing. Venture fed it and coaxed it until the flames leaped up again. And then Lacy found him.
    “So.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Are you a fighter?”
    “You know I am. You know my name, too.”
    “Yes, Venture Delving.” She stepped closer and brushed a bit of ash off his shoulder. “I know your name. I heard about what happened the other day in training. About how you saved that boy. What you did to that guy. Is it true?”
    Venture shrugged and turned away. Where had he left his shirt? He felt a tug on his belt loop. He turned back around, but she didn’t let go.
    “And,” she continued, “I’ve heard—”
    “That I’m a bondsman? Have you heard about that?”
    He watched her face—the surprise, the doubt, then the realization that he wasn’t joking, that he wasn’t making it up. She blinked and let go of his pants.
    “Well, Venture Delving, you have quite a name for a bonded man.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Only that it’s strange for a bonded family to decide to name their son Venture.”
    “My parents weren’t bonded when I was given my name. Neither was I.”
    “Oh.” She frowned, her soft features pinching together in concern. “I’m so sorry. How disappointing for them.”
    He stared at her, every muscle tensing. The fire popped loudly, and she jumped. He stood firm. The reflection of the flames wasn’t the only fire in his eyes. “They’re dead. And I won’t disappoint them.”
    She backed away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .” She shook her head, then turned to go.
    It was just a harmless remark. A stupid slip-up, with no harsh intentions behind it. She wasn’t Jade. Whatever was going on with him wasn’t her fault, and he needed to get Jade Fieldstone out of his head.
    He reached for Lacy, laying his hand on her bare arm. “Wait,” he said.

    Venture woke in the middle of the night, sweating. Trying to shake off his dream, he rose and set his feet on the cold pine floor, careful not to wake Dasher and Earnest, who were still asleep in the same room. The dream had started out pleasant enough. Dahlia, the girl he’d met dancing at the Well last week, the one with the legs, had thrown her arms around him, and, being very tall and then face to face with him, she’d only needed to lift her head the slightest bit in order to kiss him. The warmth of her lips against his was so shockingly sweet in the dream, just as it had been that night, only better. But then, he’d turned around, and there was Jade, watching them.
    It was just a dream. A ridiculous dream. Why should he feel bad about Dahlia, about anyone? Jade Fieldstone was a lady of Society, and he was as far from a gentleman as he could get. She’d made that clear enough. He was no “ladies’ man,” as the gossip column of the Capital Crier made him out. He seemed to have captured their columnist’s attention with a whole lot of nothing over the last couple of months.  
    A few among the serious fighters and their coaches had considered him someone to watch for a while now, but as for the public, he’d gone from being an absolute nobody to being called a rising star in Richland’s biggest paper. He’d had no idea that Lacy worked for the Crier. That she’d make him a story at all, let alone spin it that way. And then came her subsequent story about the “discovery” that he was a bondsman, timed perfectly to shock those who’d gotten excited about him. He couldn’t bring himself to go further with another girl than he had with Jade, but the gossip told a much juicier tale, made all the more tantalizing to some, more appalling to others, because of his class.
    Now his dreams had him thinking about Jade again, feeling that hole yawning inside him. He groped on the floor for