Hunted

by Theresa Beachman

  Her face crumpled, and he instantly felt like an ass for being so cross with her. But now that he’d opened the gates, the torrent was unstoppable.

  “What? No, I—”

  “Walking about on your own is asking for it. Have you forgotten about the croc already?” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the cliff edge.

  “No, I—” She shook her head, unable to explain herself.

  “You don’t understand how deadly this planet is. You can’t just go wandering—”

  Her foot tapped on the ground and she crossed her arms, pulling herself up to her full height. Hell, she almost reached his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t wandering. And I know how dangerous this place is. I strapped up your arm. Remember?” Her jaw hardened. “I might not be some fancy space soldier but I’m not stupid. I was only over the crest of the rock and using your field pad to—”

  “You have it?” He scanned her body. There wasn’t anywhere in her scrappy clothing to hide it.

  “Yes.”

  He held out his hand, palm up and raised his eyebrows.

  She pulled it out from behind her back. That was what she’d tucked into her waistband.

  “I borrowed it.” She placed it in his palm, meeting his gaze with fire. Her fingers grazed his. Slender fingers, neat nails, and the heat of her body burning into his skin. Only inches separated them. The world contracted around him in a long-forgotten pulse of heated desire.

  She shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “Not everyone is out to screw you over.” She made a harrumphing noise. “Maybe you should try trusting people sometimes.”

  Warmth suffused the casing of the field pad. Warmth from her body. The knowledge tugged at something deep within his chest and jolted something hot and loose within him. Heath strapped the pad back onto his undamaged wrist, ignoring the blood pulsing south to his groin. Isa provided his way out of this. His bargaining tool. Nothing more. He activated the screen with a touch.

  The map sprang to life, revealing a course plotted north, toward the hunter’s cache.

  He frowned. “This was password protected.”

  Turning away, Isa smirked. “One, two, three, four?”

  Dolt. Hot blood narrowed his throat, compelling him to pull at his torn collar. To distract himself from his own idiocy, he checked the memory history to see what she’d accessed. Like the flight log, which would list himself and Angie as flight officers. But the log remained untouched since yesterday. She hadn’t seen it. Relief and guilt surged through him.

  “Don’t worry. I never broke your toy.” She sniffed, showing him her back.

  He scanned the map. “You devised a new route?”

  Isa examined the sky. “Maybe.”

  The screen faded to black. Heath rubbed his hand across his face searching for focus, which for some inexplicable reason he found harder in her company. He took a deep breath. Apologies did not come easy to him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm…You owe me an explanation.”

  “I was worried… about you. When I woke up, and you’d gone… this is a dangerous place. If something happened to you…” The truth surprised him.

  Could this be about more than money?

  She searched his eyes for the honesty of his words.

  An imperceptible nod. “We could try again. Start fresh.” She stuck her hand out.

  More touching. Gods. He clasped her hand with a firm shake, and this time Isa was slow to release. Her breath danced on his exposed skin.

  He broke the connection, lightheaded.

  He couldn’t risk getting too close. Too much was at stake.

  Isa shot him a fierce glance. “I think you’ll find my route is an improvement.”

  16

  Concentrate on the path.

  Isa stared at her boots. Chalk dusted her legs and the tops of her socks kept filling with tiny stones. The route she’d plotted was more precarious, if quicker. On one side of the track, the rock fell away in a sheer drop that made her dizzy when she looked at it.

  She should have been focusing on her footwork.

  But her hands still tingled where he’d touched her. That moment when he’d taken the field pad back. Had that been longer than necessary? She was sure it had been. His hand had lingered on hers and then he’d met her gaze and her heart had tripped.

  A woman could lose herself in those intense eyes. Those rugged arms.

  Which was insanity.

  She’d only discovered her husband was cheating on her, lost her job, and crash-landed on an alien planet with a complete stranger. If there was a worse time to be having romantic thoughts, she wanted to know when it was. And he was keeping something from her. Something on his field pad. He’d been in too much of a hurry to check it.

  She lagged behind him, seeking clarity.

  Waste of time.

  His black pants hugged his perfectly formed backside just below the worn leather knife guard low on his lean hips.

  God, oh God—

  Heat burned her cheekbones as he glanced over his shoulder at her. There was no way he hadn’t seen her giving him the once-over. She shook her head in embarrassment, letting her hair fall in a shield across her face, willing the giveaway splotches she knew were on her cheeks to fade.

  “Here.” His water canister bumped her hand. “You need to drink.”

  “Thanks.” She gulped down a few mouthfuls, grateful for the distraction. She weighed the rest in her palm. “Not much left.”

  “I know. We have to fill up. According to the map, there’s a lake on the far side of this hill.”

  “One without crocodiles?”

  “Well…” He screwed the lid back on the canister. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

  “Is that meant to be reassuring?”

  Heath chuckled. “No. Come on.”

  They hiked up the steep ridge together. By the time Isa reached the summit, she was breathless.

  Memo to self: get more exercise if I survive.

  A vast expanse of blue water spread out before them. It rested in what looked like a glacial valley, sheer rock walls rising from its far sides to carpets of dense forest. The water shone electric blue, reminiscent of the copper sulfate crystals she’d grown on lengths of string in chemistry class.

  She swallowed against the thickness in her throat and rolled her shoulders to fight the tension rising there. It was impossible to tell if anything lurked under the surface or how deep the water ran.

  She scanned the sky. “Will there be more of those drone things?”

  “I hope not.” Heath took a cautious sideways step down the slope.

  “Tell me about Resu.” Anything to stop her thinking about the flex of his athletic thighs.

  She followed, aware of the shift of loose scree under her feet. “I’ve heard about it, but little else.”

  “When the early colonists went beyond the Ellipsis on the edge of our galaxy, Resu was one of the first planets they discovered. It was uninhabited apart from indigenous animal life. No intelligent life forms.”

  “Unless you count the trees?”

  He shot her a thoughtful smile. “Maybe.” Lord, he was handsome when he smiled.

  He continued, “A few settlement ships landed. No one survived.” He gestured at the arid landscape. “The whole planet is like this. You can’t grow anything and all the locals want to kill you. A billionaire saw the potential, bought it from the Galactic Alliance for a peppercorn price, built Ixoth behind the fuck-off wall, and the Reserve was born.”

  They were almost halfway down the scree now. The slope became less steep and she could walk without holding his hand. She hung on, waiting for him to release her fingers, to shake her off. But he didn’t. He helped her over a large boulder like she was glass, steadying her with a firm hand to the small of her back.

  “Games Masters follow all the hunts on the planet through the use of drones. There’s a continuous feed across Ixoth. There’s always a hunt on. Hunters who come here are hungry for b
lood.”

  She considered the facts. “Was your ship en route to land on Resu when it crashed?”

  He stiffened, the tension in his fingers bracing against hers. “Yes…for business.”

  Well, that was vague. “Business?”

  “Supplies. Ixoth has to import all its needs.” A sideways glance.

  That was a lie.

  Isa winced and released his hand and rubbed her aching shoulders. Her boots were heavy as bricks. Dust clogged every pore of her body. Everything itched, especially the back of her head. She’d kill for a hot bath.

  “I don’t know why I was on the same ship as you.” She looked up at him, searching for answers, fearful there were none.

  “I don’t have an answer for that.” His eyebrows knotted. This time he was telling the truth.

  This man was a walking contradiction. Secrets upon secrets.

  Heath guided her over a final intimidating boulder. They had made it to the water’s edge. He didn’t wait for her, jogging ahead, his boots crunching on the shingle. She followed, her boots sinking, her eyes darting left and right for any pissed off giant reptiles. No crocs appeared and the pliant give of the beach was a welcome change to the unrelenting hardness of rock under her boots.

  When she bent to examine the sand, small rounded fragments of pearlescent cream shell rained through her fingers. Just like on Earth. Home. It was all so far away as she stood under a fat red sun, other planets hanging low in the sky, and with every passing hour it seemed further away.

  Heath raised a fist for her to be careful.

  Isa frowned. “There’s nothing here.” Curved, shimmering dunes surrounded them in all directions. There was nowhere for predators to hide on the beach. Her attention swung back to the water, which was much darker now that she was close. Isa inhaled. The scent of pine and the harsh tang of lake water enveloped her. Nothing else.

  Heath bent and dipped his fingers, ripples spinning out from his touch.

  Clean, cold water. Isa ran her tongue along her lips, almost tasting it. She stumbled forward to join him. Her right foot plunged too deep.

  She jerked back as something encircled her right ankle and yanked her foot out from under her. She tumbled, landing on her back with a soft thump.

  “Isa!” Heath dropped his water bottle and sprinted toward her.

  She held up a hand as she inched up onto her elbows. “I’m okay. No need to panic. There’s nothing—”

  The restraint constricted, flattening her in an instant, shingle grinding up under her backside as it dragged her toward the water.

  Isa thrashed, fighting to free her leg, but the restraint tightened, some resilient material immune to her scrabbling fingernails. Cold sand filled her clothes, forced into her underwear by the increasing speed.

  Someone had set a trap.

  “Heath!”

  He wasn’t fast enough. Ice-cold water hit her lower legs and a second later freezing lake engulfed her, flooding her nose and mouth. Her lungs seized. She scrabbled at the trap on her leg, her fingers no longer efficient as fear derailed her fine control.

  Bubbles from the force of her entry obscured her view, but she felt the beach shelf disappear, plummeting away into nothing. She spun but murky water obscured her vision. Which way was up?

  And still something pulled her leg, trawling her down. The snare tore her away from the light and the air.

  No.

  She twisted against the drag, her eyes stinging as she forced herself to look. Air escaped her tormented lungs, a tiny chain of silvery bubbles that abandoned her in a surface-bound spiral.

  The water darkened as she descended deeper and then her foot tugged sideways, her arms bumping hardness. More precious air broke free from the abrupt halt. Her fingers closed over wood slick with algae, her skin mottled by the dusky, oxygen-starved water.

  A shudder hammered through the wood as she slid along it.

  She reached a corner. Another.

  It was a cage.

  She lifted her feet to the wall, hooked her fingers through the mesh of wood. Strained with everything she had, but it was lodged shut.

  There had to be a lock, a handle, and a catch. Fucking anything. Splinters pierced her palms as traitorous air fought her lungs.

  Come on.

  She kicked for the top of the frame once more and gripped the roof. Wrenched at it with weakening hands.

  Escape was impossible. Black splotches crowded the edges of her vision. Her fingers cramped, but she didn’t fall. Strong hands gripped her on the other side of the frame.

  Heath.

  17

  Heath wrapped Isa’s fingers around one of the wooden bars. Her nostrils flared with panic, her knuckles chalky against the gloom. He reached through the gap and touched her cheek, and then when he was sure she had a secure hold he kicked toward the upper struts, bound with rope. From above, her arms and legs were a pale shimmer against the treacherous depths below.

  She would not die. Even if his life was spiraling out of control.

  Elongated shadows dived on the periphery of his vision but when he turned his head they disappeared, fading into the steely gray lake.

  Something else was in the water with them.

  He switched his focus back to the pen, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain control over his body’s natural urge to surface. Gripping his knife he sliced at the rope binding the wooden struts. Air leaked from the corner of his mouth releasing pressure on his lungs. Time ticked by, second by second. He had to breathe.

  He ducked a glance below. Isa vanished. Where was she? Fuck. He hacked furiously at the second intersection ignoring the pain skewering his injured arm.

  Hurry.

  The knife sliced through the last few strands and the panel swung free. He flung it wide, diving into the enclosure. His outstretched hand tangled in soft hair. Isa. He flexed, captured her wrist and pulled her upwards. Her legs jerked, uncoordinated.

  She was out of air.

  Heath dipped and caught her mouth with his, breathing the last of his life-giving air into her lungs. She bucked against him, grabbing his wrists as her body responded. He broke the kiss and pointed at the open panel, directing her with a push between her shoulder blades.

  He dug deep, mustering his final reserves and kicked to follow—

  A solid muscled body rammed into him, barreling him out the cage into the open water. Two webbed steel-gray digits edged with razor claws clawed his shoulders, piercing his skin. Heath somersaulted, his palms shredding on coarse hide as he fought to free himself.

  A flash of pale skin told him Isa was out of the cage, surfacing. He jabbed his elbow backwards in a sharp thrust, shattering his attacker’s grip. Bubbles enveloped him, blinding him in an effervescent world, cloudy with his own blood. Heath fought the compulsion to swim up and instead sank into clearer water, catching sight of his attacker.

  Selachmi. Shark-like creatures bred for viciousness over countless generations.

  Its gunmetal skin rippled with powerful muscles as it cornered and powered back toward him, an unstoppable mutated torpedo that snared his ankle. Bones ground against each other in a nauseating vortex as it scaled his body hand over hand until he was facing its fathomless obsidian gaze. Its jaws gaped wide, exposing multiple lethal rows of serrated teeth. Scraps of pink flesh fluttered in the current, trapped between jagged incisors.

  His arms numb, Heath stabbed his knife into the beast, hard and fast, not stopping till his fist struck muscled abdomen. He hooked upwards on ebbing strength, clinging to the handle as the Selachmi wrestled him. A gelatinous, creamy eyelid shuttered horizontally across its eyes and then he was free. Sweet Jesus. The creature’s hot blood pumped across the back of his hands.

  But his world was blurring.

  Heath pushed the dying Selachmi away, leaving his knife embedded in its flesh. The final shreds of his energy dissipated, dissolving like ink until there was nothing left. His hands hung useless at his waist.

  H
eath closed his eyes. He was done.

  18

  Isa exploded back into the world of light and oxygen, sucking in a choking combination of water and air as she fought to remain floating. She was sobbing; big hiccupping gasps that wracked her body and threatened to drag her under.

  Heath.

  She smashed her hands against the cold surface, frantic. He wasn’t here.

  “Heath!” Her scream bounced off the sheer rock that bordered the lake.

  Stony silence settled around her. She was alone.

  Fuck that.

  Isa drew in a breath and ducked. She arrowed back down to the cage, gripping the top edge to anchor her as she scanned the inky depths. The speed of her heartbeat made her vision pulse as she worked her way around the perimeter.

  Nothing. She tipped and pulled herself downwards, pushing off from the bottom of the cage deeper into the center of the lake.

  Crimson swirls shaded the water bloody. She was swimming in blood. Air burst from her lungs, triggering panicked thoughts that tripped over each other, losing coherence.

  Her foot caught something solid. She touched rough gray skin.

  The shark.

  The back of her throat stung.

  But underneath, pale skin beckoned.

  Isa found an edge of fabric and seizing it she kicked upward with everything she had left.

  Heath was a dead weight in her hand, but she wasn’t letting go. Stroke after stroke, she battled back to the surface, breaking through close to shore.

  Her boots sank into silt. She dropped to her hands and knees, gasping as she dragged him landwards on leaden legs. Finally, his unresponsive form was out the water. Isa retched, wheezing, her vision blurred.

  She turned her attention to Heath, flat on his back, his lips tinged blue. She shoved him onto his side, thumped his back with her fist. “Don’t you dare die!”

  He gagged, jerked, and vomited water. God, he was alive. Isa fell on him, wrapping her arms around his chest, burrowing her face in his neck as he sucked in ragged breaths.

  “Isa—” He coughed, squeezed her arm.