by Patti O'Shea
She didn’t know what he was thinking and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Not with that grim look on his face every time he glanced back. She was as scared by this as Damon. Somehow, when she wasn’t paying attention, he had become important to her. Impatiently, Ravyn pushed the thought aside. She didn’t want to think about it. The forest had given way to scattered trees, she noted, but their surroundings couldn’t hold her interest.
Her eyes kept drifting back to Damon and finally she let them stay there. She imagined sliding his T-shirt off, measuring the breadth of his shoulders with her fingers. In her mind, she reached for his pants, opened them and pushed them down his legs. She pictured him naked, fantasized running her hands and mouth all over him. And she knew exactly what he looked like without clothes. He’d trusted her to stand guard while he’d taken a bath in the lake, but she hadn’t been able to resist peeking at him.
The man’s body was a work of art.
Ravyn unzipped her vest and reached for the front of her shirt. She fanned it back and forth, trying to cool her burning skin, but it didn’t help. Not when she had such a great view of Damon’s tight rear end. She licked her dry lips and decided she might be struck dead for all her lustful thoughts.
A loud crack of thunder made her jump.
“Coincidence,” she murmured, but peered cautiously over her shoulder just in case.
What she saw behind them froze her. The sky was dark and foreboding. Lightning flashed from the clouds as she watched and there was another sharp report of thunder. Her heart took flight in her chest. She was accustomed to gentle, rumbling thunder on Jarved Nine, not this. The storm was heading right for them, Ravyn realized. She looked around and saw Damon hadn’t stopped. That broke her paralysis. She zipped the vest again and ran to catch him. They had to find shelter fast. It wasn’t smart to be out in any electrical storm, but wandering around with what looked to be a tornado bearing down on them was beyond stupid.
The wind picked up, whipping her hair loose from its braid. It felt like she wasn’t gaining any ground on Damon no matter how fast she moved. The first drops of rain hit her skin and Ravyn turned to see the storm was almost on top of her.
“Damon,” she called, but the wind grabbed her voice and carried it away. The lightning seemed to surround her now and she felt desperation well up. Ravyn picked up the pace and finally caught up with him. When she reached his side, she grabbed his arm and said, “We have to find shelter.”
He stopped and she watched him study the low bank of clouds before he shook his head. “No, we have to keep going.”
“We can’t,” she argued and about half a dozen bolts of lightning streaked out of the clouds in emphasis. It startled her so badly she almost leapt into Damon’s arms. She waited for the deafening peals of thunder to finish, knowing she wouldn’t be heard over them. “Did you see that?” she asked when it subsided. “If we don’t get out of this, we’re going to be toast!”
It began to rain harder and Damon pushed his wet hair back. “Ravyn,” he said earnestly, “he’s on our trail again.”
Nervously, she looked around, but could see no evidence of danger, except the encroaching bad weather. “Did you hear something? See something?” she shouted to be heard above the wind and now driving rain.
“No, I just know. Come on,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her along behind him. For an instant, she dug in her heels. He pulled harder and she acceded.
It seemed impossible that anyone would be able to track them through a storm like this, but Ravyn believed in instinct and didn’t doubt Damon’s was honed beyond that of most people. If he said the killer was on their trail, she didn’t question it. But with the storm upon them and lightning flashing almost continually, she thought the weather was the greater threat.
They were going uphill she realized belatedly and wondered what Damon was thinking. She wasn’t an expert by any means, but she was sure the higher you were, the greater the risk in an electrical storm. Especially when there were lone trees scattered here and there all but begging for a lightning strike.
The rain came sideways. Ravyn lowered her head and aimed herself forward. She was grateful for the warmth of Damon’s hand around hers. The assurance and confidence he conveyed with his touch grounded her, calmed her. A sheet of lightning hit so close, the hair on her arms stood up. His grip tightened and she realized he wasn’t downplaying the severity of the weather. Her fear increased. If he thought the greater danger came from the killer, then it was more serious than she’d assumed.
It became harder to walk. Ravyn looked down and saw the rain running down the hill, taking soil with it. She grimaced at the thought of more mud, but didn’t stop putting one foot in front of the other. Damon let go of her when they reached the top, and he used both hands to push his dark hair out of his face. They both dripped with water, their hair and clothes saturated. She bet he wished for a buzz cut right now.
She tried to smile, but couldn’t manage it. It made her uneasy standing on the highest point around, like they were asking for trouble. Ravyn let out a short, startled shriek when a bolt of lightning hit a nearby tree. It crashed to the ground and smoldered there. Her feet tingled and she knew that was not good. Damon glanced at her when she screamed, but didn’t say anything about it. She didn’t need him to. If the murderer was on their trail, he might have heard her. She could have given their position away with her cowardice.
Part of her wanted to run, to seek shelter out of the elements. But she wouldn’t. Not without Damon. She’d stick with him even if it killed her. And there was no humor or irony in the thought. It held nothing but truth.
“Come on,” he ordered and started down the other side of the hill.
He moved quickly and Ravyn followed. They both slipped and slid in the mud. She frowned fiercely. Why did she even bother trying to stay clean? When she returned to Earth, she was living in the desert. Somewhere the rainfall was about a millimeter every two years. Cactus plants and sand. That was a climate.
The heavy rain made it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her, while the roar of thunder and the brief flashes of lightning told her the storm showed no signs of letting up. She jumped at the nearness of the next rumble and lost her footing momentarily before regaining her balance. It didn’t matter how precarious she thought their position, she would bite her lip bloody before she let Damon down again.
She tilted her head up to the heavens. “What if I promise to repent and sin no more?” she asked.
Another burst of lightning nearly blinded her and Ravyn smothered a yelp. As the storm continued unabated, she realized she’d received her answer. It was for the best. She couldn’t stop wanting Damon even if it would end this squall. Ravyn set her lips and kept moving. Her legs hurt from the weight of her wet pants and the effort of pulling her feet out of the deepening mud. She didn’t dare stop. Damon was way ahead of her and she still had to make it to the bottom of the hill.
She had her eyes glued on him when it occurred. She wasn’t sure if lightning or wind caused it, but a tree began to topple over. Time moved in slow motion. Ravyn could see it happening, but couldn’t prevent it. She screamed at him, not concerned if the killer heard. The wind gusted, obscuring her vision with rain. By the time it cleared, she could no longer see him, but the tree was on the ground. Ravyn ran down the hill, uncaring of the distance she slid with every step. She stopped worrying about the storm, about the lightning. Only one consideration filled her mind: Damon.
She screamed his name as she got closer, trying to be heard above the ravages of the weather, but there was no response. She reached the fallen tree, but still couldn’t see him. Ravyn fought back the panic. The tree had fallen into an area with flood water rushing through it. Even as she watched, the newly formed creek widened. She didn’t hesitate. Backing up to give herself a running start, she leaped across the rising water.
She spotted him instantly when she reached the other side.
Damon was on h
is back and the only thing keeping his head out of the water was the pack strap caught on one of the tree branches. Ravyn gave thanks and jumped in. Immediately, she grabbed him, holding his head up as the water continued to rise. She slid the strap loose with no trouble.
His eyelids fluttered, so she didn’t think he was unconscious, but there was no doubt the man had suffered a severe blow to the head. Ravyn braced herself on the bottom and pulled at Damon to free him. She felt his body give before her feet slid from under her and she dunked both of them in the muddy, fast-moving water.
She surfaced, sputtering, but propped Damon up instead of wiping her face. Ravyn had to find some leverage. Her brain worked frantically, considering options. She decided he wasn’t trapped by the tree, just tangled in its limbs, because she’d felt movement as she’d pulled him. The cord from his comm device was snared in the branches, and she struggled to unhook it with one hand. A snapping sound startled her and the cord slipped from her grip. She watched it disappear beneath the roiling water for a moment before turning her attention back to the more pressing situation.
Some of the tree’s roots were still sunk in the soil, giving it a measure of stability she thought she could use to her advantage. Ravyn hugged Damon, then put her right foot on the tree trunk. She pushed with all the strength she had. It worked. They rolled clear of the tree branches, out of the deepest water, to an area that was a bit shallower, where the runoff didn’t rush so hard and it was easier for her to maneuver them onto land. For a moment, she lay there panting, thankful to be on stable ground, even if it was muddy.
A bright flash penetrated her closed eyes and roused Ravyn. She slid out from underneath Damon and checked him for injuries. The gash above his temple scared her. It had already covered half of his face with blood. She bit her lip and ran her hands over his arms and legs, checking for broken bones.
Her limited medical knowledge worried her. Why hadn’t she volunteered to receive comprehensive first-aid training when it had been offered? All she knew was what she’d picked up on her own. She needed a compress to stop the bleeding on his forehead and the only clean or dry piece of clothing they had was the fatigue shirt in the pack. She tried to lift him to get the pack off, but he didn’t budge. “Damon,” she said, leaning over him.
His eyes slowly opened, but that didn’t offer Ravyn any comfort. His gaze was unfocused and she knew he was still out of it. At least his pupils were equal and of a normal size.
She pulled her shirt from her pants, opened the three bottom buttons and shifted to his injured side. She rolled the material from one tail and pressed it against his wound. His eyes drifted shut once more. Ravyn lost all track of time as she continued applying pressure. The storm started letting up, moving past them, but her focus was solely on the man lying on the ground.
When the water’s path widened and threatened to wash over his feet, Ravyn wedged herself beneath Damon again and tugged. And tugged and tugged. The man weighed a ton, but she finally got him farther from the water. Her backside was covered with mud again, but she had more important matters to focus on.
Blood continued to seep out of the wound. She tried to guess how long she’d applied pressure, but had no way of judging. At this point, she didn’t know what concerned her more, the bleeding or Damon’s continued insensibility. Leaning down, she studied the gash. It was deep, but only a couple of inches long. She realized she was crying, and impatiently, wiped at the tears. “Take care of Damon,” she whispered, “and fall apart later.”
There was a good chance he had a concussion since the area around the cut was already discolored and swollen. She needed to wake him up to make sure it wasn’t worse than that. “Damon,” she said insistently, “look at me.”
He groaned. It was the most response she’d gotten from him so far. “Captain, open your eyes and look at me,” she ordered. That particular ploy didn’t work and Ravyn blinked back the new tears gathered in her eyes. “Damon, I need you here with me,” she said coaxingly. She ran her thumb gently across the uninjured side of his face. “Come on, honey.”
His eyelids fluttered, then opened, but his stare was glassy and dazed. She shifted so he looked right at her, but she knew he didn’t see her. Her concern increased. “Damon, focus on me,” she pleaded.
It hurt her to watch him fight the pain, the confusion, but he did it. She saw awareness return to his gaze and sighed in relief. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a problem, but she took his new expression as a good sign. Smiling, she pushed a few strands of hair off his forehead and pressed her lips softly to his.
As she drew back, her eyes locked on his, and Ravyn’s heart stopped. There at the bottom of the hill, kneeling in the mud as rain fell gently down, realization exploded in her brain.
She’d gone and fallen in love with the damn man.
CHAPTER NINE
No! The denial came quickly and instinctively. It was the situation, not the man. She wouldn’t let it be more. Ravyn looked away, sure if she didn’t, he would read her turmoil despite his injury. She shook her head, trying to ignore her emotions. She couldn’t waste time thinking about this now. Damon needed her.
“Ravyn?” His hoarse voice brought the tears back.
She knew what he was asking with that one word. “I’m fine. You’re the one who got hurt.” She kept her voice soft, sure he had a huge headache. “Does anything hurt besides your head?”
He frowned and Ravyn guessed he was taking inventory. “No,” he finally answered, “not really.”
“What do you mean ’not really’?” She asked gently, although she couldn’t prevent the tightness in her voice.
“Bruised,” he said, “not hurt.” Damon tried to push himself into a sitting position. “We’ve got to go. Help me up.”
“Are you crazy?” she demanded, forgetting to speak softly. He sat up without waiting for her assistance, although he had to struggle to do it. If he hadn’t already taken a blow to the head, Ravyn would have bopped him for sheer stupidity. “Damon,” she said, trying to remain reasonable, “you’re hurt. We can’t go anywhere yet.”
“Ravyn, he’s close, I can feel it. We have to find a more defensible position. Now help me.”
She frowned, trying to decide what to do. She couldn’t write off his instincts, not when she inexplicably knew things herself. But she didn’t want him moving until they discovered how badly he was injured. Blood still seeped from his wound.
On the other hand, if the killer was close, they were sitting ducks. But was Damon right? He’d taken a hard hit to the head. Ravyn had to make the decision fast because she knew he wouldn’t wait much longer. She stared at him, trying to read his state of mind. What she saw worried her. His eyes seemed to go out of focus frequently and the set of his mouth spoke of pain. Despite all this, Ravyn decided to trust his instincts.
“How many fingers do you see?” she asked, holding up her index finger.
“One. Now can we go?”
Ravyn nodded and crouched beside him. “Lean on me,” she said, slipping an arm around his waist. He did, a little too heavily, and they both ended up sitting in mud. Shifting to her knees, Ravyn took a deep breath and said, “Let’s try again. This time, though, use my shoulders to push yourself up.”
This worked better. Damon made it to his knees before he started swaying precariously. Sweat ran down his face from the effort, and Ravyn bit her lip to keep from saying anything. They stayed that way a few moments as he fought to steady himself.
“Ready?” he asked, eyelids more closed than open.
“Yes.” She spoke aloud because she didn’t think he would see if she nodded.
Ravyn winced, pressing her lips together to keep from gasping. She knew Damon would be appalled if he realized his weight hurt her shoulders. It took him a long time to stand and even then, he kept a tight grip on her. Finally, when she didn’t think she could bear it anymore, the pressure eased. She blinked rapidly a few times to clear the tears from her eyes.
Da
mon was gray. She kept a hand on him as she rose. When she reached her feet, he slid his left arm across her shoulders. Ravyn took the hint and put her arm around his waist. She waited for him to start walking, unsure if he could move.
Chalk one up for stubborn determination, Ravyn thought as they inched along. He’d instinctively left his right arm free so he could draw the gun if he needed to. She knew, however, he was incapable of protecting them, that it was up to her.
They hadn’t gone far when he started talking. The words were mumbled, but she picked up enough to know he was issuing instructions on what constituted a defendable position. It was a good thing Alex had already taught her this stuff because she never would have figured it from the few words she was able to understand. His slurred speech scared her witless, but she knew Damon wouldn’t let her stop until they’d found a good place to hole up. Ravyn hoped she spotted something soon.
He slipped in and out of awareness. When he lost full consciousness, Ravyn had to support all his weight. More than once, they fell in the mud. Footing was treacherous and Damon was a heavily muscled six foot four. Falling was inevitable.
Hitting the ground always seemed to bring him to his senses. Wordlessly, she’d help him to his feet and they’d continue. Ravyn tried to pay attention to their surroundings, tried to keep her ears open in case the killer closed in. She could only hear their labored breathing and the water dripping from tree leaves. The rain had stopped, but the sun’s return had the area steaming. Weariness left her uncaring that, once again, the two of them were covered in mud from head to toe, front and back.
They continued plodding along, one shaky step after another. Ravyn didn’t know how Damon managed. The thought no sooner registered when, without warning, she had all his weight again. She twisted as they went down so that she took the brunt of the impact. Damon couldn’t afford another bump on the head.