by Smith, S. E.
“Come on, you.” Mersi tugged on the creature’s matted fur. He play-growled at her, pushing his paws into the sand, and lifting his butt into the air.
“Mersi, he might look strange and silly—” Bren’s tone was unhappy “—but he could be dangerous.”
She got another lick, and the creature butted his head against her knees. “Yeah, he’s a real fiend.”
She headed toward one of the transports at the back of the caravan. Workers were already pulling off tents and other gear to set up the camp.
Reaching up, she tried to lift a heavy, metal bathtub off the transport.
Strong arms reached around her, and Bren lifted it off like it weighed nothing. He strode out of the way of the workers and set it down on the sand.
“You take care of the animal,” he said. “I’ll get water.”
“Thanks. Come on, Fiend.” She liked the name for him. He was the least fiend-like animal she’d seen, despite his size.
“Fiend?” Bren shook his head.
“I bet you’re hungry,” Mersi said to the animal.
As the kitchen workers started preparing the evening meal, Mersi got some food from the storage chests. When she offered the animal some cured meat, he devoured it instantly.
Soon, Bren had enough water in the bath. He’d rolled up his sleeves and, for a second, Mersi was distracted by the dusting of brown hair on his strong forearms.
Fiend whimpered. He stared at the tub, clearly not happy.
“Come on, boy,” Mersi coaxed.
Bren crossed his brawny arms over his chest and scowled. Distrust was written all over his big form.
Mersi tugged gently on Fiend. He pulled backward, away from the bath. She tugged harder, and when he jerked back, Mersi nearly fell on her face. By the sands, he was strong.
“Sit,” Bren barked, his tone commanding.
Fiend’s butt dropped to the ground, and he quivered.
“Fiend, in the bath,” Bren said.
The canine jumped into the bath, splashing Mersi with water. She laughed. Finally, the canine sat, looking disgruntled. She started splashing water over him.
“Thanks,” she called over her shoulder to Bren.
“You still need to be careful.”
She was used to Bren being overly-cautious. He took protecting the caravan and all its people seriously. She filled a palm with soap, and started washing the animal, working out some of the tangles in his fur. Before long, she realized it would take quite a few washes to get him completely free of the knots and snarls. There was a particularly tangled spot on his chest that he wouldn’t let her touch. Next time, boy.
She rinsed him off, and the amount of dirt and sand in the bottom of the bath made her wince.
She shifted the tangled hair around his face to the side and saw a row of four eyes under the fur.
Bren knelt beside her. “Strange looking thing.”
“I like him.” She rubbed the dog’s head, letting his fur drop. “You’re so goofy and friendly. Now, time to get out.”
She laid a rug down on the ground and pulled out some drying cloths. Fiend leaped onto the rug, and Mersi rubbed the cloths over him. He flopped down, like he was exhausted.
She glanced up at Bren to make a comment, and saw he’d gone as still as a statue. He was staring at her chest.
Glancing down, she realized she’d gotten soaked during the bath, and the water had made her shirt almost transparent.
Fiend suddenly leaped up, headbutting Bren’s knees, and knocking him into Mersi.
His arms wrapped around her, stopping them from crashing to the sand. Drak, his body was so hot and hard. His fingers brushed the skin at her neck and she shivered. Her heart was pounding, and she licked her lips. Their gazes locked.
She saw Bren inhale hard, and then the hand on her neck slid down, skimming along her side, brushing the side of her breast.
Heat arrowed between her legs. “Bren.” Her voice was low and husky.
He groaned, and before she knew it, he lowered his head.
By the sands, Bren was kissing her. His lips were firm, opening over hers. Mersi went up on her toes, sliding her tongue into his mouth. She’d dreamed of what he tasted like, but the reality was even better than she’d imagined.
His tongue found hers, hard and demanding. His hand shifted and cupped her breast. Desire ignited inside her and pushed into him. More. She wanted more. Needed more.
Suddenly, Fiend woofed.
Bren and Mersi jerked apart.
The animal pushed up against them. Mersi tried to get air into her lungs and get her brain firing again. Really, though, she just wanted Bren’s arms around her, and his lips back on hers.
“Bren—”
“Mersi—”
The scowl on his face told her she wasn’t getting another kiss. Drakking hells.
Fiend headbutted her knee, almost knocking her over. And that’s when she saw that the tangled fur on his chest that he wouldn’t let her touch was parted. Something dark was buried in his fur.
“What’s that?” she said.
Bren looked at the canine and grabbed the object.
He held up a small rolled-up note.
Mersi gasped. “What is it?”
* * *
What the drak had he been thinking?
Bren fought the need rushing through him. He should never have touched Mersi. Or tasted her.
As he unrolled the note, the flavor of Mersi was still on his lips, and he still felt the heavy weight of her breast on his palm. He’d always fought to keep from touching her. He knew even the smallest taste of her would make staying away from her harder. And now the door was open a crack. The hunger would slither through, if he wasn’t vigilant.
Bren handed the note to Mersi, trying to ignore the color in her cheeks.
She read it and gasped. She tilted the paper so he could read it. What he saw made him grind his teeth together.
It was written in the script of the desert, and it simply said one word.
Help.
Beside it was a small handprint that had to have come from a child.
“Drak,” he said.
“By the sands.” Mersi looked up, face worried.
Fiend tossed his shaggy head back and howled. It was a sad, mournful cry.
“We need to show this to Corsair,” Bren said.
She nodded and took a step away from the dog. Bren quickly snatched up a dry cloth and draped it around her shoulders to cover her wet shirt. She gave him a look, but didn’t protest.
With Fiend trotting beside them, they found Corsair and Neve near the tents. When they showed the couple the note, both of them scowled.
Nearby, Fiend started pacing, looking out into the darkening desert.
“You think he knows where this child is?” Neve asked.
Bren studied the agitated animal. “Yes.”
Corsair looked serious. “The caravan needs to keep moving.”
“We can’t ignore this,” Mersi said. “Not if there’s a child’s life at stake. I’ll go and investigate.”
Bren’s gut tightened. No way he was letting her go alone into the desert.
Fiend came up, leaning between him and Mersi. The dog glanced up, looking almost hopeful.
“Mersi and I will follow the animal,” Bren said. “I’m the best tracker.”
She looked up at him and shot him a blinding smile. He felt it in his blood.
Corsair nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you a day.”
Mersi gripped Corsair’s arm. “Thank you.”
“Take what supplies you need, and get a good night’s sleep,” the caravan master added. “We’ll all leave in the morning—us to Kor Magna, and you two to find the child.”
“Good luck,” Neve added.
“If you’re not back in a day, I’m coming after you.” Corsair shot Bren a look, and they’d been friends long enough that Bren could read the message without needing words. His friend was telling him to look after Mersi.
Bren nodded, already planning the trip in his head.
Corsair slung an arm across Neve’s shoulders and led his woman away, leaving Bren and Mersi alone.
He avoided her gaze, staring out toward the dunes. The suns were setting, casting long shadows across the desert.
“You should get an early night.” He glanced back at her. Her skin was so pretty in the light, taking on a golden hue. His own skin was darker and rougher than hers.
“Bren.” She pressed a hand to his arm.
He went still.
“You can’t ignore that kiss,” she said.
He could drakking well try. He hunched his shoulders. “Shouldn’t have happened.”
She made an annoyed sound, and he looked at her again.
“Well, it did.” She lifted her chin. “It should have happened a long time ago.”
“No.”
She hissed out a breath. “You are so stubborn.”
He stayed silent, curling his fingers to stop from reaching for her. The darkness in him twisted, fighting him. But he wouldn’t let it touch her. Ever.
She made a growling sound. “Bren, you can’t have missed the fact that I’m attracted to you.”
His blunt nails dug into his palms and he looked away from her.
Mersi pressed her hands to his chest. “And I know you want me, too.” A soft sigh. “Please, will you look at me?”
Bren forced himself to meet her gaze. Those unique eyes caught him. She was so drakking beautiful. Everything he wanted but couldn’t have.
She was one of the most important things in his world, and he wouldn’t risk her. From the first moment he’d lifted her off the sand—sunburned and bleeding—he’d vowed to protect her from all dangers.
“I don’t want you.” He forced the words past his lips. “You’re wasting your time.”
Her face fell.
The pain gouged him deeper than the sharpest weapon. She stumbled back a step.
“Drak you, Bren.” Then she spun and ran.
4
Mersi woke to a warm weight pressed against her side.
She blinked. Fiend. The animal was snoring loudly. She looked up at the tent fabric moving gently above her, and shifted slightly against the plump sleep cushions beneath her.
Usually, she woke refreshed and with a smile, ready for whatever adventures the day brought.
Today, she was gritty-eyed from lack of sleep. She sat up, studying her space. It normally filled her with quiet joy. Everything was hers—all special things she’d bartered and traded for. Her tent was filled with vibrant colors—soft blankets, luxurious fabrics, overstuffed pillows.
Hers.
Growing up in a huge and very poor family, she’d had nothing of her own. She’d worn hand-me-down clothes, and shared a bed with her sisters. And then she’d been sold, and she’d had nothing.
She loved all the things, but Mersi wondered dully why no one loved her.
She sighed. That thought wasn’t true. Her friends cared about her, her caravan family cared, the desert kids she’d helped rescue cared.
Why couldn’t Bren love her? Shoving off her mopey thoughts, she climbed out from under Fiend and the covers. She was a big girl and her feelings were hers to deal with. She was worthy of love and she would find it.
She moved over to the cordoned-off washing area, where she had a bowl and a jug of water. Quickly, she washed up and pulled on her fitted trousers and loose, beige top, and then wrapped her lightweight scarf around her neck. She grabbed her sand goggles and set them up on her hair.
Right now, she had something more important to focus on. She had a child to find.
The sound of something crashing made her turn. Fiend had knocked her trash can over, and was digging something out of the rubbish.
“Hey.” She gently smacked him on the nose. “Over here.” She pulled out some snacks from her collection and gave him a few. He wolfed them down.
Shaking her head at him, she pulled out her well-worn desert pack and gathered things she’d need for the trip—a change of clothes, snacks, water bladder. Finally, she strapped her knife to her belt and checked her laser pistol.
Then, she squared her shoulders. So, Bren didn’t want her…so what? She’d survived far worse. She was a woman of the desert, and she’d do what she always did, endure. Like the sands, the dunes, and the desert winds.
As she headed out of the tent into the early-morning hush of the desert, she spotted Bren standing by the tarnids. There were several kids dancing around him, and when she got closer, she saw that he was slipping them rock candy.
She studied him for a long moment. He had a faint smile on his rugged face. A smile she loved to see, because he was so stingy with it. But at the same time, looking at him was a hard, painful punch to her belly.
His head turned suddenly and he spotted her. His smile dissolved. One of the little girls hugged his legs, and he leaned down and brushed her cheek.
Bren had so much to offer. If only he let himself. Endure, Mersi. Like the dunes. She huffed out a breath. Sometimes enduring sucked sand.
The kids ran off, swarming past Mersi, stopping to give her hugs and kisses. As she reached Bren, she hitched up the straps of her pack.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He nodded, his face carefully blank.
Her chest tightened. After the kiss last night, and what she’d said to him, he had nothing to say to her. Dammit. She mentally used the Earth curse she’d picked up from Neve.
But now, anger pricked through her pain. She reined it in, stomping toward the tarnids. They were her feelings, not his. Bren had never lied to her, or made her promises he hadn’t kept.
She watched as he climbed onto his tarnid, Hajar, with a smooth, powerful move. Then he held a hand down to her.
She frowned. “I can take Jila.”
“We have one day, so it’ll be easier to travel with one beast.”
Drak. Resigned, she put her hand in his and let him help her up. With one flex of his arm, he lifted her like she weighed nothing. She climbed on, sitting in front of him.
Fiend let out a few excited yips, and when Bren nudged his tarnid forward, Fiend loped off ahead of them. His shaggy head bent low to the ground as he sniffed, following a trail only he could sense.
Mersi shifted, trying to get comfortable. It wasn’t the riding that bothered her, it was Bren’s big, hard body pressed up behind her.
Hard fingers gripped her hip. She went still, keeping her gaze locked on the sand ahead. She felt the tension in him and a small, petty part of her hoped he felt the same simmering desire she did. If she was uncomfortable, she wanted him to be as well.
They traveled up a dune and soon lost sight of the caravan. The rocking gait of the beast and the rising heat of the day worked to relax her. After a while, she quite liked the solid feel of Bren behind her.
A few times he slid off the tarnid to follow tracks in the sand. He’d taught her some tracking skills, but she couldn’t see anything in the sand. Keeping Hajar on track, she watched Bren stride across the sand, stopping every now and then to crouch and touch the ground. Fiend trotted beside him.
When he climbed back on behind her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “You’re tired.”
“A little.”
“Rest.”
Mersi never got to rest during the day. There were always things to organize and work to do. But thanks to her sleepless night, she dozed off.
When she slowly woke, Bren’s arms were around her and she smelled him. She’d always loved his scent—leather, smoke, and the lawl he enjoyed eating. He had one of those mints in his mouth now, if she wasn’t mistaken. She let out a little hum and buried her face against his chest.
This was one of her most favorite dreams. Locked in Bren’s arms, absorbing his strength.
Then she felt his hand clenching in her hair, and she realized it wasn’t a dream.
Her eyes popped open and she straightened. She blinked, tak
ing in the large dunes ahead, and the rocky cliffs she saw just beyond them. Then, she looked up and saw Bren staring down at her. There was such warmth in his dark eyes, and she wondered if she was still dreaming.
“Bren.”
She watched as his face shuttered, his eyes going blank. She clenched her fingers on his shirt.
“Don’t pull away,” she whispered. “Please.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice was gritty, like sand.
“We mean something to each other. I care about you, and I want you. I want more.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t have more to give.”
“You do,” she insisted. “I see it.”
His face spasmed. “No.”
“Drak, you’re stubborn. You do!”
His voice rose. “I’m protecting you.”
“From what?” she yelled back at him.
“From me!”
The words exploded out of him, and they stared at each other. His mouth pressed into a hard line.
“Explain,” she demanded.
He shook his head. “I can’t be the man you want or need.”
Mersi dredged up the last of her courage. She’d held it in too long and it was time to let the truth out, no matter what happened. “I love you, Bren.”
His fingers tightened on her so hard that it hurt. His face contorted.
“I remember the day I first saw you. I was happy to die in the desert, but I was so alone. You picked me up and held me close. I felt so safe.”
He kept staring, emotion boiling in his brown eyes.
“And in the years since, you’ve continued to keep me safe. You’ve always been there for me. My quiet, solid Bren.” She cupped his stubbled cheek. “My protector, my friend. A man who has so much caring locked away inside him, though he rarely lets it loose. How could I not fall in love with you?”
He dragged in a breath, his big body shuddering. Hope welled inside her.
Then she watched as all that emotion fled from his face, leaving it blank. “You deserve someone who can give you what you need, Mersi. Someone to love you the way you should be loved.”