by Anna Hackett
There was a whisper of sound, and Lexa glanced up just as Damon rounded the tent.
They both froze.
His hair was damp and he was shirtless, wearing just his khaki cargo pants—and those were riding low on his hips. He’d obviously dumped some water over his head and washed up. She couldn’t stop herself from looking. She might have wondered what he looked like under his clothes, and she knew he was strong and fit. But she hadn’t imagined he had all those…hard muscles under there.
Heat curled low in her belly, and she felt her nipples harden. He was all corded strength, from his hard shoulders to the sizable biceps, and down to the ripped abdomen.
He was staring at her as well. “That is not treasure-hunting underwear.”
She felt heat flame in her cheeks. So she had a small weakness for nice lingerie. She’d packed her most sensible underwear, but she didn’t own anything plain. She was wearing pale pink lace; a tiny wisp of panties and a bra that looked like pink gossamer. Belatedly, she realized he’d have quite a view.
But she made no move to cover herself.
“You are so beautiful,” he growled. “Why the hell couldn’t you have been some old grandma astro-archeologist?”
She gave a nervous laugh and watched him close the gap between them. “Is that what you really want?”
He yanked her to him, his skin hot against her. “Hell, no.”
Chapter Seven
Lexa lifted her hands to Damon’s chest, molded her fingers over those intriguing muscles. Stars, her hands were shaking a little. Her entire body felt flushed and hot.
“I so badly want to know what color your nipples are.” His hot lips were at her neck and she arched into him.
“Super spies can’t see in the dark?”
He growled and nipped her. Oh, it felt good. She’d never known her neck was so sensitive.
“Unfortunately, no, and I desperately want to know if the glimpse I got of those tiny, poor excuse for panties really showed that your pussy is shaved clean.”
She turned her head and bit his bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth. “You don’t need to see to confirm that.”
He growled again, the sound vibrating through him. “You drive me crazy.”
God, this wasn’t really happening, was it? This was Damon Malik. Bane of her existence for the last three months. “This is still probably a bad idea,” she managed to get out. “It’d be hot sex and then we’d be back to—” hating seemed like the wrong word now “—disliking each other.”
His mouth moved over her jaw. “All I heard was hot sex.”
“Typical.” She curled her hands into his dark hair. It was so silky. She tried hard to keep her mind on track, despite the marvelous things he was doing to her. One of his hands had slid down and cupped her breast. He was plumping it, his thumb rubbing her nipple. “We’d…we’d have to see each other every day back at the museum. This…it…would be a complication.”
He bent her backward slightly, his mouth sliding down her neck, his teeth scraping over her collarbone. “Complications keep life interesting.”
His mouth closed over her nipple, bra and all. As he sucked on her, she made a small cry and bucked against him. It felt crazy good. She tightened her hands in his hair, urging him closer.
He chuckled and moved to the other breast. “And I think I might like you after all.”
God. She yanked his head up and pulled his mouth to hers.
His tongue swept over her lips and their mouths fused, both of them struggling to get closer to each other. She bit his bottom lip, he sucked on her tongue. He pulled her closer and she felt the hard press of his erection digging into her belly. Yes. The hot, furious kiss made her knees weak and every single part of her felt like it was turning molten. The man could kiss.
She even heard bells ringing. Wait… Bells?
Damon pulled back and cursed. “The deterrent alarms!”
***
Damon ran over to where Dathan stood, staring at the fence and beyond. A second later the ringing stopped.
“What is it?” Damon demanded.
The treasure hunter clutched a hand-held scanner, waving it left and right. “Don’t know. Nothing’s coming up on the scanner.” He shook his head. “Could be something, could be nothing.”
A slight wind was blowing. Damon stared out into the desert darkness, but the shadows refused to give up their secrets. The cold wind made him realize he was still shirtless.
A breathless Lexa jogged up to them. She’d pulled on some clothes. “Was it the desert wolves?”
Dathan was eyeing her somewhat-disheveled state and Damon knew the kid wasn’t fooled. It was hard to miss the hastily-pulled-on clothes—and Damon knew just what she was hiding under there now—and kiss-swollen lips. And damn, he wanted to taste her again. He wanted his mouth on her breasts, his fingers exploring her and those red lips wrapped around his…
Fuck. His cock, still semi-hard, sprang back to full life.
“False alarm,” Dathan finally pronounced. “Let’s grab some chow. I think we should be ready to move fast, though, just in case.” He glanced at Lexa. “And that includes knowing where we’re headed next.”
They all settled around the fire. Damon sat down next to Lexa. Not too close, but close enough to pick up her scent—something fresh and fruity. Shit. He was still hard as Dinorian granite. He shifted slightly in an attempt to ease the discomfort.
As the three of them munched on their unappetizing rations—Damon had eaten enough cloned food in his lifetime to never want to see the stuff again—Lexa pulled out her replacement Sync. She lifted her necklace and clicked her pendant into the slot on the side. She waited a second, then tapped the screen.
“Okay, the next clue says, ‘At the Crossways, make a choice that leads right.’”
Dathan rolled his eyes upward. “Gods save us from fucking cryptic clues.”
Lexa ignored him. “Anything known as a crossways near here? Maybe a crossways of these old caravan trails?”
“Yep. There are thousands of them. Some are larger, but there’s nothing that stands out.” He chewed thoughtfully on his food.
Damon was impressed by the young treasure hunter so far. He was smart, tenacious and prepared. Brocken Phoenix was an idiot. He was going to lose his boy if he wasn’t careful.
Dathan set his own Sync down on the ground in front of him. He touched the screen and sat back. A three-dimensional map projected up into the night air in front of them.
It was a map of the Sea of Dunes. It showed the path they’d traveled as a solid green line. Glowing dots marked some points of interest. Damon leaned forward. He could see the caravan trails marked in orange.
Dathan and Lexa got deep into discussion, pointing out options that could be the mysterious crossways. They argued, agreed to discard some things, brainstormed.
Damon pondered what the Sea of Dunes would have looked like at the time the long-ago priestess had carved her clues on the vase. “Have you got any historical maps? From the time of the temple?”
Lexa and Dathan stared at him, then she bumped Damon’s shoulder. “Brilliant, Damon. We need to be looking for a crossways that existed then, not now.”
“I don’t have any historical maps from that time,” Dathan said. “But I can get the computer to extrapolate back to what the Sea looked like then. It won’t be a hundred percent accurate, but it’ll be close.” He tapped his Sync.
The map morphed and changed. The dunes shrunk. Green grass and trees appeared, along with herds of unidentifiable animals. The oases grew into lakes, and rivers coursed across the land, headed for Zerzura’s once-bountiful inland sea.
“Amazing,” Lexa breathed, eyes bright as she studied the map. “No wonder the Terrans settled here.”
Damon studied the map, thinking about all the planets he’d visited on various missions. Some planets were covered in huge megacities, others vast deserts like this one, some covered in forests so dense it was an effort to travel
just a few klicks, and some planets dominated by seas and rivers. Those rivers had been like highways, used to travel on and give life to the land around it.
He stared at the huge rivers of old Zerzura, and realized the giant valley they’d traveled through today had been an empty riverbed of the largest river in the area.
He looked up at the Manifestor constellation shining brightly overhead. That large river had once traveled in line with the Manifestor. He looked back at the map…and saw the river crossed another large tributary coming in from the east.
“The crossways, I think it was the junction of two large rivers.” Damon pointed.
Lexa leapt up. “You’re right! The rivers would have been important back then, covered with boat traffic and used for irrigation. The crossways of two large rivers would have been a large landmark.”
She shot him a wide smile that lit up her face. Damon had received many commendations in his career with the GSS, but they were nothing compared to that smile.
Dathan traced the river to the large junction. He tapped the Sync and the map changed back to the current map. A large sandy space where the two empty riverbeds crossed. “I know this place. It’s called Confluence.”
“Confluence?” Lexa was just about bouncing on the spot. “That’s another word for crossways!”
“Okay, I’ll plot the best course to get there, and as soon as the sun is up, we’ll head off.” Dathan closed the map. “The Confluence is known for flash floods if we get any freak storms.” He eyed the clear, starry sky. “But thankfully that should be one problem we won’t suffer.”
“I think I’ll stay up and keep an eye on the fence,” Damon said. Something had set that alarm off and whatever it was, he wasn’t planning to let it get anywhere near Lexa.
Lexa looked troubled. “Should we take it in turns to keep watch?”
He smiled. “I’m used to it and I don’t need a lot of sleep. Get some rest, okay?”
She shot him an unreadable look, then nodded. “Good night.”
After she was gone, Damon settled in the sand and imagined her in her tent, wearing tiny lacy things he wanted to tear off her. He blew out a breath. It was going to be a long night.
***
Lexa woke, heart pounding, and sat upright. The dream faded, leaving her realizing she was safely in her tent. She pushed her hair off the back of her neck. In the nightmare, she’d been back at the inn, realizing the attackers were in her room.
Everything’s fine, Lexa. She listened for a moment, but there were no strange sounds, just the gentle fluttering of the tent fabric in the desert breeze, and the snorts of the ballos not too far away. Through the opaque fabric, she saw the faint flicker of the fire. She relaxed back against her pillow. Damon was out there, somewhere, watching over them.
Her thoughts wanted to turn toward that wild kiss but she forced them onto finding the crossways. Excitement sparked like a drug in her veins. Find the crossways, follow the other clues, and find the egg. She imagined setting the egg in the display she had planned for it back at the museum. Studying it, finding out more about its history. No doubt, Damon would be there bitching at her about security.
She stilled, funny that he was now a clear part of that picture. And that she welcomed it. She’d been worried about complications if they acted on their attraction, but they were already involved.
A shadow moved outside the tent and she turned her head. Maybe Damon was headed this way?
She waited, her pulse picking up. The shadow moved again. Low, slinking along the ground.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Desert wolf.
She forced herself to stay still. How could it be inside the fence? The alarm should have sounded. How many more were out there?
She pressed a hand to her chest. Had they attacked Damon? God, what if he were hurt…or worse?
Reaching for her bag, she slowly fished around until her hand closed over the butt of the laser pistol Damon had given her. Inching up, she pulled her legs out of her sleeping bag.
But the wolf must have sensed her movement.
It launched itself at the tent.
Lexa’s scream stuck in her throat. The huge weight of the wolf fell on her, and she was separated from very sharp teeth by the thin layer of high-tech tent fabric.
She turned and tried to scramble away, but she had nowhere to go. She was trapped by the collapsed tent, with no idea where the fastening for the opening was. But the wolf clawed and ripped at the tent, and soon ragged tears opened up.
Lexa shoved her hand through the tear, ripped it open more, then dived through.
The wolf spun, growling, drool dripping from its slavering jaws.
Fear was a living, twisting thing in her throat. She scuttled backward in the sand and lifted her feet. When the wolf leapt at her, she pressed her feet against its chest, kicking with all the strength she had.
Its jaws snapped an inch from her face, its breath a horrid stench. She managed to get the pistol up and aimed at its face.
She fired.
With a whine, the animal fell back.
Lexa leapt to her feet. When she looked around, horror clamped down on her.
Wolves were swarming through the camp. The ballo beasts were braying and she saw one, the one she’d been riding, twisting and turning, four wolves clamped on its back. The other tents were in tatters.
She heard the whine of a laser rifle, and in the darkness she made out a bare-chested Dathan firing rapidly into a sea of wolves.
Where was Damon? She looked around frantically.
A wolf shot out of the darkness at her.
She brought the pistol up and fired.
The laser caught the side of the animal but didn’t kill it. It raced away into the darkness.
She ran to the fire. It still flickered, warm and cheerful, despite the chaos around it.
Damon. There was no sign of him. Her chest was tight and she could barely breathe. Where was he?
Chapter Eight
Lexa sprinted through the camp, the sand surprisingly cool under her bare feet. She shot at any wolves she saw.
Still no sign of Damon.
A terrible feeling was filling her chest. Maybe the wolves had snuck up on him? Dragged him away?
Then she saw him.
He was covered in blood, surrounded by four wolves. His shirt was in tatters, torn up by sharp claws, and it appeared he’d lost his weapon.
She pushed for more speed. She was too far away. She wanted to shoot but she wasn’t a good enough shot to risking shooting with him so close.
The nearest wolf launched itself at him.
No! He had no weapon.
But he stayed calm. He dodged to the side, grabbed the wolf and swung it onto its back. With a quick move, he snapped its neck.
The others rushed forward, but he was ready. He kicked one hard enough to send it stumbling, then he grabbed the next, turning with it in a macabre dance. He tossed it aside. The third leapt high in the air and from somewhere on his body, Damon pulled a knife. It was the one he’d taken from the man outside the Desert Dragon.
A quick stab upward into the underside of the wolf and Lexa could tell he’d hit something vital. The wolf just…collapsed and landed on the sand like a pile of fur.
She was close enough to see his face now. Hard, focused and deadly. That expression sent a shiver through her. She had no trouble believing he’d been an undercover agent.
Then she saw that the other two wolves were back on their feet and rushing him again.
That’s when Lexa noticed a third wolf, this one even larger than the others, slinking forward out of the shadows.
No. She closed the last few meters and fired. The wolf dodged at the last minute and her laser did nothing more than kick up sand in the beast’s face.
It lifted its huge head, its glowing eyes fixing on her. Then he bounded forward with a flex of muscle.
Oh, God. She held up her pistol with shaking hands and tried f
or bravado. “Come on you big brute!”
Behind the beast, she saw Damon swivel. “Lexa!”
The wolf took her to the ground. She felt claws snag on her clothes, but she focused on nothing but jamming her pistol up into the wolf’s neck. She pulled the trigger and held it down.
At first, nothing happened. Her heart clenched and visions of being ripped apart danced in her head.
Then the wolf stiffened and something warm and sticky gushed over her.
Blood. Ugh. She kept her finger on the trigger until she heard a clicking sound. The laser pistol had run out of charge.
“Lexa.” Damon gave the beast a giant heave and rolled it off her. She caught a glimpse of the bloody damage the laser had done to fur-covered flesh and looked away.
Damon yanked her up and into his arms. “Where are you hurt? Don’t worry, baby, we’ll get you healed. You’ll be okay.”
The worry in his tone made her breath catch. “Damon, I’m fine.”
“I’ll find my medscope. I promise, not even a scar. You’ll be fine.”
“Damon!” She spoke sharply to break through his panic. The man had faced down four huge desert wolves with his bare hands but her bloodstained clothes sent him into a spin. She cupped his face and made him meet her gaze. “It isn’t my blood.”
That seemed to get through. His hands patted her down, once, twice. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” But as she got a good look at him, she realized much of the blood covering him was his own.
Claw marks scored his chest and arms. God, he was badly injured. She touched his face and saw three deep gouges on his cheek. She rested a hand on his shoulder and saw another wound. She pushed the tattered remnants of his shirt away and saw an ugly, ragged bite mark.
“Oh, Damon, did you let them gnaw on you?”
He gripped her shoulders. “You ran in there like…like some damn berserker and attacked that wolf—”
“He was sneaking up on you!”
He shook her a little. “When are you going to start listening to me about running away from danger?”
She tilted her head. “Ah, probably never.”