by Smith, S. E.
“Bren.”
Drak. Corsair appeared at his shoulder.
“Evening.” Bren thought his voice sounded mostly normal.
His friend followed Bren’s gaze. “She deserves love, my friend.”
Bren stayed silent.
“She deserves a man who worships her.” Corsair stepped in front of him, his gold eyes gleaming in the firelight. “Someone to hold her, support her, warm her on a cold night.” Corsair’s voice lowered. “You already love her. Share it with her.”
“She deserves the world,” Bren murmured.
“She wants you.”
Bren watched her smile at an old couple sitting quietly by the fire. Mersi deserved better than him.
“She deserves so much more.” Corsair made a frustrated sound, but Bren looked at his friend. This man was the only one who knew the rot in Bren’s soul. “She deserves better than me.”
Corsair muttered a curse. “You’re one of the best men I know, Bren. Solid as bedrock, dependable as a sunrise, and loyal to the ends of the dunes.”
Bren stared at the fire.
“You’re also as stubborn as—” Corsair shook his head “—I’ve run out of good descriptions. I’ll leave you to brood.”
As his friend strode away, Bren saw some travelers had pulled out instruments and started plucking at the strings. As the low, sultry music played, a few people got up to dance. One woman pulled Mersi in for a dance and she whirled in a circle. She threw her head back and laughed.
The sound moved through him. He loved her laugh. Mersi colored his world and was the heartbeat of his life. He’d protect her from all the dangers of the desert—including himself.
Suddenly, aquamarine eyes met his across the fire. She said something to her dance partner and made her way across to Bren.
“Hey, I saw your haul. Nice work.” She smiled. “And I saw the quolbie. Thanks.”
He nodded.
She grabbed his hand. “Come and dance.”
He locked down his body’s response and tugged his hand away. “I don’t dance, you know that.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I keep hoping you’ll change your mind.”
“I never will, Mersi.” He turned and walked away.
2
Mersi wasn’t usually in a bad mood. Life was too short to waste it on being angry, upset, or moody.
Except for this morning.
She sighed. She’d woken cranky, and as they’d packed up the caravan for today’s journey, she’d been short with more than a few people.
They were now moving under Carthago’s hot suns. She had a scarf pulled over her head for protection and her well-used goggles over her eyes since the wind was blowing. Jila snorted, clearly unhappy with the sand in her face. Mersi just prayed it didn’t grow into a sandstorm.
Her gaze fell on Bren, riding ahead of her. She stared at his broad back. She’d dreamed of him. Again. Of him touching her, her touching him. Of him letting his guard down and letting her in.
She closed her eyes.
It was time to accept that it was never going to happen. Tears pricked behind her eyelids, the pain hurting all the way to her bones.
“Mersi,” a young voice said.
Mersi swallowed the tears back and turned her head. “Hey, Tilli.”
The young girl rode up on a tarnid, keeping pace beside Mersi. Tilli rode with a natural ease and was one of the children training to be a tarnid handler. “Saram said to tell you that she wants to try a new feed mix for the tarnids when we get to Kor Magna.”
“Sure thing.”
“That’s so liquid. This new feed sounds waaaay better.” Tilli tilted her head, her braid falling over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Mersi forced a smile. “Peachy.”
The girl’s brow creased. “Peachy?”
“Sorry. It’s one of Neve’s Earth words. I mean everything is fine.”
Tilli smiled, her gaze turning dreamy. “Earth sounds so amazing.”
It sure did. Mersi peppered Neve with questions whenever she could. “It’s—”
Suddenly, screams pierced the air and she whipped her head around. A startled tarnid had broken away from the caravan column. There was a lone kid bouncing hard on the back, gripping the reins desperately, his face white with panic.
“Oh, no,” Tilli cried. “Tad.”
They’d rescued the young boy a few months back. He was shy and slowly coming out of his shell. Without thinking, Mersi kicked her tarnid into a gallop, sand flying up behind them as they gave chase.
She leaned forward, racing closer to the boy and the spooked animal. A moment later, she came up alongside them.
“Tad, jump!” She held out an arm toward the boy.
But she wasn’t even sure that he heard her. Terror was etched on his face, and he was too afraid to act.
Drak. Mersi heard more shouts from behind them and her head whipped up.
Her stomach fell away. Double drak. There was a ravine ahead. A deep crack in the ground gouged out long ago by a now-dried-up river.
If Tad kept going that way, he and his tarnid would plummet over the edge.
More deep shouts from behind her and she glanced back. She saw Bren speeding toward them on his beast, but he was still too far away.
By the sands, she had to do something. Mersi stood up on the back of her tarnid, keeping her balance. She’d done this for fun lots of times before.
Then she leaped onto Tad’s beast.
She landed hard, right behind the boy. Quickly, she sat up, legs gripping the animal, and grabbing Tad. She clucked her tongue to Jila and her tarnid moved as close as she could, bumping into the animal Mersi was riding.
Mersi tightened her hold on Tad. “Grab on, Tad!” She quickly tossed him onto Jila. He yelped but clamped onto Jila’s saddle.
Yes. Mersi clucked again and Jila swerved away, slowing down.
Thank the desert winds. She reached down and gripped the reins of the still-panicked beast, pulling on them hard, trying to stop the animal.
The huge ravine was closer now. Her pulse pounded like the tarnid’s runaway hooves. The chasm was so wide and horribly deep.
She was going to have to jump.
Mersi shifted in the saddle. They were going too fast, and the ground here was more rock than sand. The landing was going to hurt.
Still, broken bones were a smaller price to pay than going headfirst into the ravine.
Sending up a silent prayer to the desert winds, Mersi leaped off the runaway tarnid.
There was a whirl of color as she tumbled. She was going to break something for sure. She closed her eyes and braced for pain.
A strong hand clamped on her shirt and she was jerked hard. She slammed into a hard chest, the wind knocked out of her.
She looked up into Bren’s set face.
His arms wrapped securely around her—strong and solid. He jerked on his tarnid’s reins to slow them down.
“I’ve got you,” he rumbled.
* * *
Anger and fear churned in Bren’s gut. He pulled his tarnid to a stop and swung his leg over, sliding off. Ignoring Mersi still sitting in the saddle, he looked ahead and saw that the runaway tarnid had managed to stop right near the edge of the ravine. He gave a sharp whistle, and the beast turned and trotted back.
When he looked back toward the caravan, he saw the boy was surrounded by people hugging him and patting him down.
Bren reached up, gripped Mersi’s slim waist, and yanked her off the tarnid.
“Bren—”
His anger surged. “Quiet.”
He looked down into wide, aquamarine eyes and that face framed by silky dark hair.
Pretty. Friendly. Frighteningly competent. Those all described Mersi. But in his head, all he could think about was that she could be dead and broken at the bottom of the ravine. All those things that made her special, snuffed out.
“What the drak were you thinking?” he roared.
She froze,
then her chin lifted. “You’re angry?”
He growled. He was beyond angry. “You could have been killed!”
“I had to help Tad. He’s a kid, Bren. He was terrified.”
That was so Mersi. She took care of everyone on the caravan. If anyone was in need—friend or stranger—she leaped in to help. With no thought for her own safety.
There was a writhing sensation in Bren’s chest. A familiar darkness rose to choke him, his vision leaching of color for a second.
He fought it back. As he always did. That darkness was something that would make Mersi look at him in horror. His vision returned to normal.
“You wait for help,” he bit out. “Right now, you could be broken on those rocks below.” His voice had risen again to a roar.
She rose up on her toes. She was nowhere near as tall as him, and standing beside Mersi always made him feel huge and lumbering.
“It would’ve been too late, Bren.”
Stubborn, foolish woman. “You could have died.”
Her face softened. “I’m okay, big guy.”
His hands gripped her arms. “You can’t die, Mersi.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’m okay.”
The air around them changed and Bren’s skin heated. It had nothing to do with the desert suns. She was so beautiful and she always smelled so good, like desert flowers and warm skin.
He pulled her closer, and she pressed her cheek to his chest. Her arms wrapped around him.
The darkness inside him stirred again. It was hungry, demanding.
He stepped back, shoving her away. “You need to be more careful.”
He saw a flash of hurt on her face and it made his gut twist. Then the rest of the caravan arrived, and they were surrounded by people.
“Everyone okay?” Corsair stepped up between them.
The caravan master had a dark-leather belt around his hips, and a leather bandolier crossed over his chest. Bren’s best friend turned shrewd, golden eyes on him.
Tad appeared, rushing at Mersi. She hugged the boy hard.
“There was a task serpent hiding in the sand,” the boy mumbled against Mersi’s belly. “It spooked my tarnid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Mersi said.
“Everything’s fine.” Bren swiveled and stomped off.
He busied himself checking in with the security guards, and then moving to check the water supplies. Mersi ran the day-to-day things on the caravan, and was the main contact with all the travelers, keeping them all happy. Bren preferred to work behind-the-scenes, and if he could avoid useless small talk with strangers, he did.
Mersi was good at talking to people and he wasn’t. She was friendly and people liked her.
He stopped, leaning against one of the transports, his hands curling into fists. The darkness filled his throat, scraping his insides, but he choked it back down. It was taunting him with the image of Mersi flying over the edge into the ravine. Mersi broken and bloody.
Then he heard her laugh. He glanced up and saw her surrounded by a group of kids, ruffling their hair and sneaking them candy.
Alive. Taking several deep breaths, he got himself under control. He heard Corsair call out for the caravan to get moving again.
Soon, everyone was back on the transports and tarnids, and the caravan moved forward again.
Bren rode in silence, keeping his gaze on the dunes. Sand pirates took any opportunity to thieve and steal. It was easy to fall into the monotony of desert travel and enjoy the peace—the endless sand, the empty dunes, the warm sunlight. He let his tarnid rock him and relax his tight muscles. He loved the quiet. He loved the vastness of the desert, and the lack of people.
They traveled for another hour, when suddenly, he heard shouts again, and a commotion ahead.
What now? Scowling, he half expected to see another runaway tarnid, but as the caravan ground to a halt, he leaped off his tarnid and jogged to the front of the line. Mersi was standing with Corsair and Neve. She didn’t meet his gaze.
Corsair pulled out a spyglass, extending it, and looked through it.
Bren had good eyesight, and he could see the forms on the sand ahead, but they were too far away for him to make out what or who it was.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Looks like sand pirates,” Corsair said. “They’re attacking…something.”
An anguished howl split the air.
“Someone needs help,” Mersi said.
Bren saw her face was pinched with upset. He looked at Corsair. “They’re attacking a beast?”
“Looks like it.” Corsair lowered the spyglass. “It’s some sort of animal, but I can’t see it well enough.”
Another pained howl.
Bren looked back at Mersi. Her hands were twisted together.
“It doesn’t sound like a desert beast,” she said. “They’re hurting it. It’s in pain.”
Drak. They had a caravan to safeguard and they were almost back at Kor Magna. They didn’t need to rush into trouble.
Pleading aquamarine eyes stared at him.
Drakking hell. Bren pulled his crossbow off his back. “I’ll check it out.”
Mersi beamed at him. “Thanks, Bren.”
“I’m coming too.” Corsair pulled his electroblade off his belt.
Neve stepped forward, her staff pressed to her shoulder. “You’re not leaving me behind.”
3
Worry nipped at Mersi as she watched Bren, Corsair, and Neve head off across the sand.
She fingered the knife on her belt and the laser pistol holstered at her hip. She knew how to use both very well—Corsair and Bren had both trained her. But with Corsair gone, she was in charge of the caravan. She sucked in a breath. She knew the trio could more than take care of themselves.
She was still upset after Bren’s explosion after she’d rescued Tad. The man clearly felt something for her. But she couldn’t keep dealing with his gruff rejections.
Mersi wanted love, family, children. She wanted a family that she’d care for, nurture, and protect. No child of hers would ever be sold into slavery.
She knew that Bren had once been a part of a family. Not that he ever spoke about them. Once, after they’d drank too much fraskan ale by the campfire, he’d told her that he’d had a sister. The pain soaking his voice had left Mersi in tears.
“What’s happening?” A young boy and girl flanked her, staring at the silhouettes of Bren, Corsair, and Neve.
“I’m not sure,” Mersi said, “but Bren and Corsair will take care of it.”
The boy, Danan, nodded. “They always take care of us.”
The little girl, Aura, gave a nod, too. “And Neve. She fights soooo well.”
Mersi smiled. “And Neve, as well.”
These two runaways had made a home on the caravan, slowly forgetting the sand pirate attack that had killed their family. She loved seeing them so certain about the fact they were safe and cared for.
She hadn’t felt like that until she was much older.
Shouts echoed off the sand. Her head jerked up, and she saw Bren, Corsair, and Neve race into the fight, weapons lifted.
Mersi took an unconscious step forward, wanting to join them, but she knew she needed to stay back. She made out Bren’s figure, feet spread, as he fired his huge crossbow.
“Everyone stay calm,” she called out to the caravan. Travelers and workers milled around, excitement and concern on their faces.
“Maybe they’re fighting raiders,” Danan breathed, horrified excitement in his voice.
Mersi rolled her eyes. Raiders, people driven to mindlessly rape, pillage, and consume flesh, were one of the desert’s most feared hazards. Something in raider territory changed people and drove them insane. “We’re nowhere near raider territory.”
“Desert wraiths?” Aura said, wide-eyed.
“We’re not in wraith territory, either.” The tribe of warriors lived deep in the heart of the desert. They were fierce fighters who co
uld camouflage themselves, and if you stayed out of their territory, they left travelers alone.
“Maybe it’s the Tainted.” Danan’s voice hitched, this time with real fear.
Mersi shivered. The Tainted were the danger desert parents threatened their unruly children with. People who ingested the Taint—dark microbes that lived in hidden pools in the desert mountains—transformed into monsters.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen a Tainted.” The only taint she’d seen was the drug that addicts in the city used to drift away from the real world. It had been named for the dark Taint of the desert.
But she’d once seen a village that had been attacked by one of the Tainted. She tasted bile in her throat. She sometimes still had nightmares about the torn bodies and streaks of blood on the walls.
Moments later, Bren, Corsair, and Neve were headed back toward the caravan. Mersi blew out a shaky breath.
Corsair swaggered closer with a cocky smile, his electroblade back in its scabbard by his hip. Neve was strolling alongside him, her staff held up against her shoulder.
And Bren was scowling down at…Mersi blinked at the tangled lump jogging at his feet.
The beige-colored animal looked like a big ball of matted fur.
“What is that?” she asked.
The thing lifted its head and looked at her. She couldn’t see any eyes through the snarled fur, but a large, pink tongue was lolling out. The beast also had a long tail, with wicked spikes on the end of it, that was currently wagging in a friendly sort of way.
“It appears to be some kind of canine,” Corsair said.
“I’ve never seen an animal like it before.” Bren frowned at the canine sniffing at his boots. “The pirates were trying to capture him.”
“Capture him?” Mersi crouched down and the animal moved toward her. “Not kill him?”
Bren took a step forward. “Careful.”
“It’s fine, Bren.”
“He stinks and he’s wild. He could be dangerous.”
That giant tongue licked at Mersi’s face. As the creature exuberantly shifted closer, he almost knocked her over. She laughed. “Yes, he looks very dangerous.”
“Night is only a few hours away,” Corsair said. “We’ll pull up a little early and make camp here.” The caravan master’s nose wrinkled. “Best give our new guest a wash.”