savage 07 - the dark savage

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Jeb,” Beth whispered. His name from her mouth was a tonic.

  “Yes?” He hugged her to him.

  “Hurry.”

  Beth's torso was covered with blood, soaking his clothes.

  It was a defensive wound.

  Chuck had been aiming for something more vital, like the femoral artery.

  Beth would not be in his arms if it weren't for her deflection.

  Jeb could kill Chuck again. Once was simply not enough.

  She was losing her battle with consciousness.

  “There, look,” Jeb said, his jaw ticking in the direction of the trumpet.

  It glowed, and she stared.

  Jacky's hand slid down Jeb's shirt and his grip tightened on a belt loop.

  Heat drove from the cold earth and overtook Jeb and Beth, licking out to encompass Jacky.

  They stood in a raging inferno of heat and jumped. Beth was at the helm, Jeb guided, and Jacky held on for dear life.

  Jeb kept the Jacky's domicile in the forefront of his mind.

  He held Beth tightly as they traveled, his healing thrown out deep and hard like a perfectly pitched fast ball.

  Jeb knew it might be everything she needed.

  *

  Beth awoke in stages.

  She was floating—and warm. In fact, she was almost too hot.

  Slowly her heavy eyelids opened, and Beth heard a heavy exhale to her left.

  It sounded relieved.

  Jeb stared down at her, taking her hand from the bathwater, and a blush rose to burn along her skin.

  Beth gazed at her body.

  A bra and panties remained. She let her head fall back against the rim of the tub—more relieved than she could stand. If she’d enough energy, she would have laughed at herself. She was more female than she knew.

  She'd almost died, and she was worried about being nude in front of Merrick—Jeb.

  Beth rolled her head toward him. The coolness of the porcelain cleansing rim felt divine.

  Looking into his eyes, she realized that maybe her worry hadn't been for nothing. Heat and tenderness were in a gaze that had only regarded her with detached interest before.

  A curtain had swung aside to reveal his true feelings.

  Jeb's large hand stroked her small one, every bit of him engaged with every bit of her.

  She heard the dry click of her throat.

  “Where?” she croaked, and he brought a cup of water to her lips, lifting her neck so she could drink. He set it on a rim of a sink that sat atop a pedestal.

  “Am I?” she finished after the drink of heavenly water. Contaminated or not, it was some of the best she'd ever had.

  Jeb didn't look away. “We're at Jacky's domicile.”

  “Oh,” was all that Beth could muster.

  Jeb seemed to understand her extreme awkwardness and said, “You're not fully healed.”

  His thumb stroked along the outside of her eye lightly. “But the worst of it is gone.”

  Beth saw where Chuck had nicked her thigh, which had caused an inevitable bleed-out for sure, but only a vague reddish stripe remained. Healing from another Reflective left no scars.

  This would be no exception.

  Beth would not ignore the pink elephant in the room.

  Half-naked, wounded, and healing in a strange domicile on Three, she would ask the tough questions that needed answers.

  “What's happened?”

  Jeb arched a dark-blond brow.

  “Besides you almost dying a horrible death at the hands of an accomplished sadist? Well…”

  “Just tell me.”

  His pale eyes regarded her steadily.

  “You are the One,” he said carefully.

  Beth shook her head in denial.

  “I can't be—I'm Reflective.”

  Jeb scrubbed his head with his free hand. She took in their linked hands.

  His was so big that she couldn't see her own.

  “You are—you have blood from another sector, Beth. I have no explanation. It is what it is. I feel as I feel. I can't quantify it, discount and certainly can't ignore it.”

  Beth blew damp hair out of her face and Jeb tucked a strand behind her ear.

  This new Jeb was beyond strange.

  “I'm not pretty, Jeb. You have been with every Reflective. They are all more beautiful than me.”

  He moved her chin until their gazes locked.

  “I never was one to follow the Papilio ideal as perfect. And I haven't been with every Reflective.”

  “Most,” she accused, and he inclined his head, a faint smile etched on his perfect lips.

  “You understand what this means. That I know that you are my perfect counter, but you do not. That you, as the female, will know your perfect male.”

  Beth nodded. It was the paradox of truths.

  “And you must duel if I find that male.”

  His eyes latched onto hers and wouldn't let go. She couldn’t look away.

  “To the death.”

  “Jeb—don't do this. Pretend your timepiece worked perfectly, and it was just because I happened to be there when it failed. Don't deal with the ridicule and strife from being with… someone like me.”

  Mongrel, ugly, small… female.

  Jeb rubbed her cooling arm that rested on the rim of the tub against his cheek. “That is one of the reasons I know you are she.”

  “What? Why?” Beth could feel the incredulity on her face.

  His gray eyes lit on her expression.

  “Because I'm too selfish to be attracted to someone like myself. A soul mate must be the complement, the other half. It's well documented.”

  Beth smiled. Then she laughed.

  “Not going to deny it then?” Jeb asked, his eyes smiling along with his mouth.

  “No,” she managed through her laughter. Her ribs ached while Jeb's face adored her.

  Maybe she could get used to this new Jeb Merrick.

  But what of their return to Papilio, when every Reflective would hate them? When they would seek her out for injury, thinking it had been her bid to win him?

  What of the future male who waited for her when the timepiece she held degraded?

  Not much scared Beth.

  That epiphany terrified her.

  Beth was brave, yet she couldn't fight everything.

  *

  Jacky's lip trembled until he captured it in his teeth. He slid the clothing through the cracked door.

  Beth was submerged to the top of her chin in the tub.

  “Here's some stuff that doesn't have blood and shit all over it.”

  He closed the door, and Beth stood, rivulets of water trailing down her body. She stepped out of the tub and locked the door.

  It was more a mental security.

  If Jeb wanted to get to her, he could instantly. However, Beth liked the illusion of modesty the locked door afforded.

  She stripped the panties and bra off and tossed them in the trash.

  Beth moved to the tub, where she popped the drain and jerked the faucet to the hottest setting.

  She simply could not get warm. Baths were nice, but she preferred not to float in her own filth.

  Beth stood under the spray, missing her cleanser from home but grateful for this one.

  She washed her body twice, opening her mouth to get the horrible taste of the Three out, thinking about Jeb's kiss.

  She lathered her hair then rinsed the suds slid down the drain, a vague pink stain chasing them.

  She rinsed again.

  Beth toweled off then dressed in the foreign clothing. The denims were almost perfect, but a tad too long. The shirt and bra were very tight across her breasts.

  She swiped an arm against the fog on the mirror and braced herself for the reflection, fighting the urge to jump.

  It was very powerful compulsion for every Reflective when faced with a looking glass.

  She opened a new toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth until only her own scent and the feel of
smooth teeth remained.

  She leaned against the sink, and thick shame enveloped her.

  Beth had cried like a weak female in front of Jeb.

  Her gratefulness, her relief, had needed release.

  He’d happened to witness it.

  Where was the hardcore Reflective you used to be?

  She gazed in the mirror. A soft triangular face filled the image. Large eyes so dark they were almost black stared back, looking vaguely shocked inside the sea of ivory skin. Raven hair tickled her waist, and she had a sudden longing for the normalcy of tight braids.

  She saw no beauty in the reflection. Pale-green or blue eyes were not present. Beautiful gold or platinum locks were absent.

  Beth was bland by Papilio standards.

  But she was herself.

  Sometimes, that was enough.

  *

  Beth peered out of the bathroom.

  A ticking clock borrowed the silence of the house.

  The lack of voices filled her with disquiet as she tiptoed out of the bathroom and down a corridor covered with a strange soft floor beneath her feet.

  Oh yes, carpet, she remembered absently.

  Beth longed for a weapon, her right hand itching for the solid weight inside her palm. But cocky Jeb had figured he would be the big man and protect her.

  Deep inside, it didn't make sense. Nothing but death would keep a Reflective separated from his or her soul mate.

  That knowledge tightened something in her chest.

  Beth should be grateful for his protection and the close call he'd interrupted. Yet she felt resentful, and she wasn't sure why. She was vulnerable without the small arsenal she usually carried.

  Reflective men were meant to shelter and protect their mates, and Beth didn't need that. Besides, she wasn't his mate.

  Yet.

  The inevitable was a pressure inside her skull. She waited for her head to explode.

  Beth had needed assistance that night. She could feel herself frown. Low voices filled the main room, and she walked out, recognizing the timbre of Jeb's immediately, her chest loosening again with relief.

  What she had not been prepared for was a stabilizer pointed at Jeb's chest.

  Beth's pulse went from resting to rioting.

  Lance Ryan held Jeb at gunpoint. Jacky was behind Jeb, who was shielding the boy with his body.

  “Hi, Mongrel.” Those perfect pale seawater-green eyes locked onto her.

  Beth's heart sank. Her eyes went to Jeb's, and he shook his head.

  Ryan raked his gaze over her.

  She didn't like that he lingered on the curves that were proof of her gender.

  Not at all.

  Anything that made Beth afraid made her angry. She latched onto that emotion. It was safer.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was calm.

  Ryan smiled, thrilled to deliver some kind of awful news. “I've been sent to fetch you back.”

  That surprised Beth. She felt the shock to her toes.

  Why would Rachett send Ryan, of all Reflectives?

  “Your face!” Ryan whooped, slapping his thigh, and Jeb made a small movement.

  “As you were.” The ceramic barrel of the stabilizer nodded at Jeb, and he stilled.

  “Why?” Beth asked.

  “It's been five years,” Ryan announced, watching her with keen interest.

  Beth steadied her heart rate. “For what—five years for what?”

  Ryan sighed, obviously put out by her perceived slow intellect.

  “Since you jumped.”

  Beth's head swam, her heartbeats going back into overdrive.

  “No.”

  “Oh yes!” he squealed in delight.

  Beth didn't believe him. “Then why weren't you sent sooner?”

  Jeb's eyes narrowed.

  “Anarchy, my dear mongrel. The Cause has been overthrown and your precious Rachett has been tossed out on his ear.”

  Beth felt her mouth drop open.

  Many things flashed through her mind. Madeline, her dwelling, The Cause—a mainstay since before recorded history?

  My butterflies!

  “Oooh, this is too fun! Your face, the horror. The devastation—the loss.”

  “Stop it, traitor,” Jeb said through his teeth.

  Ryan laid the butt of the stabilizer in Jeb's stomach in a bursting strike.

  He doubled over soundlessly.

  Beth wanted to cry over her brave partner being brought down by a corrupt warrior of The Cause—if there was still a Cause.

  Ryan strode to Beth, and she did an evasive maneuver that was as automatic as breathing.

  She slammed her palm into his nose as she moved into his charge. Beth knew she'd struck home when there was a sharp crunch of a broken nose followed by blood.

  Ryan jumped, striking her in one motion.

  “Beth!” Jeb bellowed.

  It was too late. Beth was falling, a new injury against the old.

  She landed on the floor, hand to cheek, looking up at the newest nightmare.

  Beth struggled to catch her breath, her eyes swinging to Jeb but posing the question to Ryan. “What are you doing? Why come after us?”

  “I can't help you if I'm dead,” Jeb explained quietly while the stabilizer was trained on his head.

  “Too true, Merrick. Smart, for once. Not that this little mongrel whore is worth saving.”

  He doesn't know.

  Relief swamped Beth.

  If Ryan had known that Jeb had claimed her as his soul mate, she would already be dead.

  Jeb's eyes begged for her silence.

  Ryan stared down at her with disdain.

  “Because I don't want to deal with you in Papilio. It's a new order.”

  Beth didn't ask him, just held his eyes in a contemplative glare.

  “No? You won't ask? Well, mine—of course.”

  He smiled.

  “I was always meant to be leader, and I've worked these past five years for the revenge I needed for true joy, Beth.”

  The use of her name was not intimate.

  It was frightening.

  Ryan's eyes flicked to Jeb and Jacky. “Stand down, or I'll stabilize you into forever.”

  “You,” His eyes burned holes through her. “I know where you're going.”

  Beth didn't ask but gave solemn eyes to Jeb instead. His face was a mask of hate and anger—not for her, but for his inability to protect her.

  She clamped down on her emotions.

  “Where?” Beth ground out.

  “Sector One.”

  Beth burst from her position and ran in the opposite direction.

  Ryan easily caught her around the waist, tearing her into the bathroom. He locked the door and forced her face to look into the reflection, his fingers biting into her chin to keep it stationary.

  His image smiled at her.

  Her dark looks contrasted with his light. Whoever said evil was dark had never danced with the devil.

  She heard the door crack with the weight of a massive shoulder being thrown against it.

  Jeb.

  A wave of heat consumed them.

  Then they were gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Beth was not fully healed, hurtling through the pathway with Ryan clamped onto her like a second skin.

  Upon landing, the first thing Ryan would do was subdue her.

  That was what Beth would have done to control another. That was what they had been trained to do.

  Beth knew how to subdue others without killing them.

  Her last thought before they burst out of the pathway in a free fall was the struggle she would have in getting away from Ryan.

  Ryan had been in charge of the sector jump, but Beth was the strongest jumper they had, and her worry had translated into a more specific location of her choice.

  She had the advantage of surprise.

  The water slapped her face hard as she landed.

  Beth ignored the pain and dove de
eper, having sucked the air from the atmosphere as she fell.

  Beth came up for air and immediately began swimming away from Ryan.

  She moved true—hard, then she turned over and heaved backward.

  Ryan was approaching fast behind her.

  His reach was longer.

  Beth didn't panic; she had never been prone to that.

  Instead, her arms sliced the water as she flicked her eyes behind her, finding the shore easily.

  It was a quarter kilometer away.

  Doable.

  Ryan trained his eyes on her while he attacked the water that lay between them.

  He ate the distance as she moved backward.

  Ryan began to gain, only two body lengths away from her.

  She poured on the speed, her arms smooth propellers in the water, churning her backward.

  Beth hadn’t been wearing shoes when Ryan had taken her, and that helped. Ryan’s combat boots were like lead weights that slowed him.

  Beth felt something solid underneath her back and stabbed soft sand with arms that shook with fatigue and spent adrenaline.

  She scuttled backward and turned to her hands and knees then jumped to a standing position.

  Her sodden clothes added unacceptable weight.

  Beth ran forward, staggering on the sand dune that led to the crest of the hill. Sweeping sea grass, a solid wave of bleached green, whispered in the slight breeze off the shore.

  She heard splashing behind her and drove harder toward the top of the hill.

  It wasn't a Reflective sector, most materials were banned. But she needed only the smallest thing to jump.

  Anywhere but here. If she found a reflection small enough, Ryan wouldn't be able to follow her.

  Beth's eyes scanned the environment: grass, sand, sky… no buildings, no glass—certainly no mirrors.

  She couldn't go back to use the water—Ryan was behind her.

  Beth picked up speed, moving into a sprint, arms jaggedly pumping by her side in a brutal rhythm as she made the top of the hill, only to grind to an abrupt halt against a wide muscular chest.

  The air plowed out of her, and she made an oofh sound.

  Beth would've bounced off had it not been for the hand that circled her forearm, gripping it to steady her.

  Dark eyes, as brown as her own, regarded her with guarded amusement, and Beth balked. Reflectives knew every species and sub who resided in all the explored sectors. She found herself kissing distance from the most dangerous one.