“Are you doing that Lassie thing?” he asked, still blinking past the pain in his head. The small Chroan just waited in what appeared to be anticipation. When he took a tentative step in its direction, it did a little happy dance and repeated its pattern of leading and returning. Soon Gray was following the small bug without hesitation. Someone needed to know which direction to go and following the bug was a good as any guess. He had no idea how long he walked, but it seemed like he had trekked a thousand miles.
The sun beat down upon his head and the robe did little to protect against the damaging rays. He gave a thought as to what he would sacrifice for a good sun block, knowing that moving in all of this sun was courting skin cancer, but soon the wish for sun block changed into a wish for an icy cold bottle of water.
“I hope you know where you’re going,” he sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time to the small pink pestilence, but the bug, long since used to his ramblings, continued on its merry way, moving toward some unknown destination as swiftly as its six legs, and its human counterpart, could move. His feet began to drag in the sand and sweat to pour down his body. In deference to the heat, he pulled off the top of his robes, tying them around his waist as he did before, and prayed that he wouldn’t get sunburned too badly. The warm desert breeze felt better on his damp skin than the robe, but it was not enough to cool his overheated body.
Miles seemed to drag on endlessly, and just when he thought he saw something in the distance, it turned out to be more boulders or sand dunes. “What’s the point?” he growled as he paused to sit on his latest ‘mirage,’ hanging his head as he pulled air into his tortured lungs. His thighs hurt, his back hurt, his feet hurt in those one size fit all sandals he was wearing. Even his bug was getting winded.
“Finishing what I started is becoming more difficult every second,” he added as the bug took a break with him. But then the wind shifted and suddenly the big was perking up. He turned three circles on the ground then took off at a gallop. “What the hell?” Gray growled as he watched it, curious despite himself, and rose to his feet. He managed to muster up a trot, and followed the bug as swiftly as he could.
The bug zigzagged around a few boulders, over more sand, and then suddenly he was staring at a huge wooden structure. “Hello?” he whispered as he checked his walk, beginning a stealth approach. “What have we got here?”
The building was a small wooden one, roughly the colors of sun-bleached oak, but had many windows surrounding it. There was no outside markings, no visible door on his side, and he would have thought that no one was home, except for the five Chroan that stood tethered in the distance.
Dropping to his knees, Gray crawled out of direct line of sight toward the nearest window and settled in for a listen.
“…should have killed the male,” a disgruntled voice yammered.
“Why waste time? Her people could have been looking for her for all you know,” the calm tones of meaner Orange Hair answered.
“We have a way to replace what you three lost and it was easier than gathering up all those Chroan.”
“We should have killed the man.”
“You have been saying that since we got here,” another voice, the voice of larger Yellow Hair answered. “You’re just upset that someone obviously meant to be a breeder knocked you out.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! And you wanted to sleep with him.”
“I did not! I told the other he was trouble and look what happened.”
“Well, I wanted to mate him,” a voice recognized as the original Orange Hair rang out confidently. No shame in his game, Gray thought as he rolled his eyes. “It would have been nice.”
“Well, go and mate the female,” a voice he recognized as Peach Hair said, smug in its humor.
“And risk having a baby?” Orange Hair was outraged. “Like I want to be tied down with the responsibility of raising a child! You have to feed them, and clean them, and teach them. I don’t need that kind of trouble.”
The conversation went on and all that Gray got out of it was that Gethla had not been physically assaulted or raped and that a few of the rustlers had good taste by wanting to uh, mate him.
“But where is she?” Gray whispered. His question was answered in another unorthodox way. The little pink Chroan again began its advance and retreat game, and this time Gray eagerly followed. It led him to a small room that seemed to be built onto the side of the shack. The room had two windows, cross ventilation, he assumed, and that was about it. All was silent. It was well away from the gathering of seedy men who sat and discussed what to do with the human booty they’d pirated.
“Please be in there,” Gray prayed as he rose up into a kneeling position and peered inside. Sure enough, Gethla was there, lying on a small pallet of blankets, her bright shining pink hair unmistakable. There was one door to the room, the only way in or out besides the windows, and there was nothing else there.
There had to be an alarm or something, he thought as he stared at Gethla. It would be too easy for him if there wasn’t a catch. He found his catch soon enough. Gethla shifted on her pallet, and there was the unmistakable clink of metal. Upon closer inspection, he saw a small metal loop attached to the floor beside her pallet. And on that loop there was a chain, and on that chain there was another leather loop. And in that leather loop was Gethla’s leg. And her pink hair spread all around and around, and her pink hair spread all around, he mentally sang as he tried to force down his panic.
There had to be a way, but what? He could lure them out one by one and knock them out, but he doubted that they were that stupid. He could scream fire and hope they’d come running out, but he had never been that fortunate. But maybe if…
Yes, that would work. A sly grin crossed his face as he eased backwards and began to plan his assault. This would work or neither of them would be going back to the mystical lake and heading home.
Chapter Eighteen
Slam! Gray kicked the door open and stalked into the room, his purple eyes blazing as he took a headcount and visually plotted his escape route just incase this turned bad. As expected, all the men jumped, startled by his wild entrance. The appeared to be eating, which only made his plan better.
“It’s the male breeder!” Orange Hair bellowed as he jumped to his feet, but the others were stunned into silence by his strange appearance. Gray had torn the sleeves off of his robe and made this world’s first extremely uncomfortable G-string. His body glistened with a light sheen of sweat and his hair billowed out behind him. To their hungry eyes he looked like a sex giver, on the hoof. Well, Chroan back.
Tossing his hair and throwing what was left of his dignity out the door, Gray sauntered into the room, his eyes daring them to move. “You’ve put me through a lot of trouble,” he said as he walked over to Orange Hair and shoved him back into his seat. But in a neat trick he learned while shaking it for men and women who stuffed fives down his G-string, he followed Orangey down, straddling his hips and leaning into his face.
“You want me,” he growled in his face, ignoring the other four men.
“Hey!” larger Yellow shouted, rising to his feet and walking over toward the pair just as Gray leaned over and licked the side of Orangey’s face.
Everyone was startled when Orange Lite, as Gray nicknamed him, rose to his feet, Gray clasped securely in his hands. Orange Lite slammed Gray on the middle of their dinner table, sending plates of—Gray didn’t want to think about what—flying around the table and crashing to the ground.
“Mine!” Orange Lite snarled as he reared up over Gray, his eyes taking in the others in the room. Heavenly. To egg him on, Gray slowly licked around his lips, making them glisten. He ran the fingers of his right hand over and down the chest of Orange Lite, his fingers grazing his crotch. Orange shuddered and brought his gaze back to Gray, who again licked his lips and blew a kiss at the poor lust-struck man.
“Why should he get him?” Peach Hair bellowed as he pushed larger Yellow
out of the way. “I want him too!”
“Mine!” Orange Lite growled again, them whimpered as Gray wrapped his long legs around his waist and tightened them, letting him feel the strength in his legs. By now, Orange Lite’s attention was all his, and he made the best of it by arching his back and running his left hand over his chest.
Call me a slut, he thought to himself as every eye in the room focused on him. But if I can hold their attention for a few moments longer… He bit back his revulsion and arched his hips a little, just enough so that Orange Lite could feel the lithe movements of his body. The movements were familiar to him, having long ago perfected his seduction techniques, but it opened a black void inside him to have to revert to survival techniques learned in the past.
In that moment, all that Gethla had done to survive suddenly made sense. Gray understood why she would risk everything to help the people she loved. He had done the same thing to protect Jarvis and the others. Jarvis never made Gray turn tricks for food and money, as Jarvis was doing the same thing. But Gray made the decision to help the man he knew as a father, brother, and protector, to help the family who took him in when he had nothing.
Gethla was doing the same thing. No one forced her to become a breeder. It was expected, but no one was forcing her. She did it to protect the people who had cared for her when her father and his partner perished. She did it so that the brothers and sisters she had, the mothers and the fathers, would not starve.
He now understood as he made the choice to sacrifice his pride and open the wounds of his past to do this thing to free her. Not because he had to, but because he chose too. He owed her a major apology.
His thoughts snapped back to the present as he felt another approach. Peach Hair reached out and grabbed Orange Lite’s shoulder. “I said we share him.”
“I said mine!” Orange responded as he shrugged his shoulder and knocked Peach’s hand away.
“I don’t like this!” the original Yellow Hair said as he cast his suspicious eyes on the half naked man writhing on the table. “I have this funny feeling…”
“I want him too,” Meaner Yellow Hair growled as he stepped forward to regain control. “We all want him.”
“I don’t,” meaner Orange Hair said as he shared a glance with black eyed Yellow Hair.
“But I have him!” Orange Lite-in-the-brain-department antagonized his partners. Gray turned and winked at Peachy, and then it was on. Peachy dove for Orange Lite, knocking him to the floor and almost taking Gray with them. But he managed to unlock his legs as he saw the dive coming, and slid to safety higher on the table. He glanced out of the window as the other two moved up to stop the fight, while black-eyed Yellow Hair named Garl started toward him.
“Where are you?” Gray muttered as he turned to smile at Garl. “Want more?” he asked, speaking up louder to be heard over the sounds of fists striking flesh and the abstract curses the quartet of men behind him were making.
“I’ll kill you this time,” Garl snarled, lunging for Gray. Gray shot off the table and watched as Garl’s stomach hit the edge, momentarily distracting him by knocking the air from his lungs. Gray snickered as he glanced out the window. This time he saw what he wanted to see.
“Is that smoke?” Gray asked casually, and all five men froze. Fire was the real hazard here, as there was no ready source of water available. They had a few wells, but nothing that could handle a blaze. And this shack, small as it was, was their only protection from the cold nights, in addition to being their safe-house.
Gray smiled as he read the fear and frustration in all of their faces. He almost felt guilty for starting the small smoldering fire. Almost. They had, after all, hit him with a rock, stole his woman, and left him for dead on the desert floor.
Bad rustlers.
Almost as one, the rustlers in question abandoned their fight and raced out toward the wooden pens where they kept their Chroan. Gray knew that the small fire would smolder more than burn, as he started it with parts of his robes and a few pieces of green shrubbery he yanked from the ground, but once it caught, it would burn fast.
Picking a hunk of meat that he would rather not name up off the floor, he peeked out the door and gave a tentative click. Almost instantly, the small pink Chroan skittered into the room. Using the meat to lead it, he coaxed the insect back into the room where Gethla was kept. When they entered, they found her sitting up, a scowl on her face.
“Gethla!” his voice full of emotion as he raced to her side. Only to feel the flat of her hand across his face.
“You killed him!” she snarled, her eyes shooting fire.
“I—uh…”
“And where are your robes, Gray? What are you doing?”
“Saving your ungrateful ass!” Anger at once again being labeled an easy target, a slut, flooded his mind. It started with the seduction he staged, but her words brought back all the pain and anger he fought to put behind him.
“But at what cost?”
“I didn’t fuck them, if that’s what you mean.” He bent to rub the meat onto the leather. Finish what you started rolled through his mind, but his anger tried to swallow even that mantra.
“Gray, I apologize .” She’d heard the rustlers speaking of her Gray. She remembered the lewd suggestions and taunts they made while bringing her here. But to hear his seductive voice, to hear the rustlers ogling her man while she was locked in a back room, helpless to defend him…it was too much!
She’d lashed out as soon as she saw him, her ire clouding her judgment. She didn’t mean her words to come out that way, she really didn’t. The words just came out all wrong. And the slap that was pure fear. How dare he put his life in danger to try and rescue her? She just wasn’t worth it. How could she make him understand?
And what was he doing?
He smeared meat onto the leather cuff holding her chain to the floor. “Gray?”
“Shush,” he hissed. “Don’t scare it.”
The it was the small pink Chroan Gethla had dubbed Gray’s pet. She hadn’t seen it since the stampede, but she figured it had followed Gray’s tasty scent and raced to the man after they returned the herd. It must have been mixed up with the stolen Chroan. But how it found her…
Maybe it bonded a bit to her as well. After all, her scent had mingled with Gray’s—both before and after they’d mated they’d spent so much time in each others presence.
As she watched, the shy little bug skittered over to the metal and leather straps, opened its tiny little mouth, and exposed its razor-sharp teeth.
“Damn,” Gray whimpered, stunned by the tiny bug’s orthodonture. He paled when he thought of the damage the thing could have done to him any time it wished. But the small pink bug began to almost delicately chew at the leather, sucking down the meat soaked binding, chewing it in half.
“Oh Gray!” Gethla laughed in delight. “What a wonderful idea!”
Gray said nothing as he watched the bug eat the last of the leather, and Gethla was free. That was the thing that attached itself to him? Eww!
But it was Gethla bounding to her feet that tore him from his shock. Remembering where he was and what had happened, he motioned for Gethla to follow him. “They’ll be back soon.” He led the way out, his finger rubbing the place where she hit him.
“Gray?” she whispered, not liking the look on his face, but he remained silent as he walked out of the room.
Chapter Nineteen
The fire had been set in the holding pens, making it easy to snag a Chroan. Away they went, the small pink Chroan following along behind. They were headed for the river, but the trip was silent, each person lost in their own thoughts.
What does she think of me? Gray thought as they galloped toward the river. Does she really think I’m a slut for trying to save her life?
Gethla’s thoughts ran parallel to his, wondering if he hated her for her unthinking actions, wondering if he would ever forgive her. Silently they traveled mile after mile until it became too dark to see and Gra
y shivered in his rough G-string.
“Gray?” Gethla broke the silence. “We should stop for the night.”
Gray said nothing, but pulled the Chroan up sharply. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any fire making materials with them.
“Hell,” Gethla snorted, and Gray stared at her in sudden amusement. He hadn’t expected that particular curse word from her mouth and it almost made him forget his hurt.
“Problem?” he asked, the shimmer of amusement quite clear in his purple eyes.
“Nothing to start a fire! You are cold and I cannot warm you!”
Gray blinked at that, unused to the notion that someone actually wanted to care for him. “I’m fine,” he managed as Gethla looked around, her eyes scanning the ground as if in hopes of discovering some miracle fire producing stone.
“No you are not fine! You are shivering and your nipples are hard.” Gray looked down in surprise then actually managed to blush.
That was too much. It wasn't as if he was turned on by her scent. When was the last time he’d taken a real shower anyway? And it couldn’t be because the feel of her body pressing against his for hours was bringing up remembered memories of them entwined together, writhing in the sand and screeching their sexual fury to the heavens. It wasn’t that at all. Besides, she thought he was a slut. Well, she implied it!
The voices in his head argued back and forth, swirling in confusion and fervor until finally he'd had enough. He wanted answers!
“Do you think I’m a slut?” he bellowed, startling Gethla, who was looking around for the right type of rocks to strike together to ignite the small pile of tinder she’d gathered.
The rocks fumbled in her hands for a moment before she regained control of them. She turned wide yellow eyes toward him. “What?”
“Do you think I’m a slut? Because if you do, you can consider this relationship train over before it starts to move good!”
Threshold Volume 2 Page 18