by Owner
Though they stopped often to listen for someone in pursuit, they continued to move with speed until the sun hung low on the horizon.
Var gave the girl plenty of water and plied her with dried fruit throughout the trip. She was half-starved and dehydrated. Stupid skas. They had no idea how to care for a person. Var thought they were worse than the grippers. Empaths could bring a lot of money dead. Fortunately, they brought even more alive. Her captors did not care if they killed her, only their greed dictated that they keep her alive.
The Conglomerate wanted the empaths back and had spread the word far and wide. Koda had also made it known that he wanted the empaths and Koda offered more money for them. The Conglomerate countered with larger bounties. Koda offered krystiles, which were worth far more than mere money. As soon as people heard about the bidding war, MX became a hot commodity in spite of the danger associated with them.
They emerged from the dense woods at the edge of a lake. A small waterfall cascaded down a rock face at one end. The cool mist of the waterfall and the setting sun brought welcome relief from the heat of the day.
Var let the girl down off the horse. She crumpled to the ground. He wrapped a long rope around her waist before placing her next to a tree. Holding the other end of the rope, he walked away.
She gave him a questioning look.
“Be quick,” Var said.
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a little ‘o’ as realization dawned. “I will not do this with you holding the rope.” Her voice shook and she fisted her hands. Did she intend to fight him?
“You have privacy behind the tree and I have little patience.” He saw her give in. The girl must be exhausted. He noted her pale skin and the purple circles under her eyes. If he ever saw that gripper again, he would kill him.
“I cannot…” She did not finish that thought. The girl was close to giving up and worse than that, he thought she might cry.
Var tilted his head. When he approached her, she cringed as if she wanted to hide. He reached for her and she made a vain attempt to bat his hands away. Var rubbed her hands and arms to restore circulation. Her small, graceful hands were soft.
“No one touches us.” She did not meet his eyes. Did the girl pout or was her bottom lip that full?
“So you have said,” Var replied as he walked away to give her privacy. “You are far from the Conglomerate here. Their rules no longer apply.” He added.
“Whose rules should we use then?”
“Mine.”
She offered no reply or argument. When she finished, Var returned, leaned forward and threw the girl over his shoulder. She weighed practically nothing, but she fought him, beating on his back with her fists and kicking her legs. Var appreciated her efforts, but she caused him no harm. Unfortunately, he had no time to indulge her. He grabbed the saddle bag from his horse and followed Mack across the slippery rock. They ducked behind the cascading water into the hidden cave.
Inside, the path turned and twisted until they were in complete darkness. He set her on the cave floor and took a gem from his wristband. Sitting it on a stone in the middle of the cave, the light revealed smooth walls, a rock floor, and flat boulders placed at intervals. Var inhaled the scent of damp earth and the remains of fires.
Mack took the horses to their shelter, returning a short time later with a bag of supplies.
Var held a canteen to the girl’s lips.
He let her hold it when she reached for it. What a sassy little thing. Var felt strangely intimate inside the cave with her. If she had let him hold the canteen for her… No, he would not think of that. He had no right to think of her like that. His job was to return her to his people and safety.
Mack returned and laughed. “She will be pretty when she is cleaned up,” he said in the old language.
“Possibly,” Var said. With her head tilted back and her throat exposed, Var’s thoughts turned lustful. What could be wrong with him?
She let the canteen down, her green eyes questioning him.
“Keep drinking,” he said.
The next time she lowered the canteen, her eyes shot daggers at him. She wiped water from her mouth when he squatted in front of her.
He thought she wanted to say something to him, but her courage must have failed her. “Thank you.” The defiance in her voice matched her eyes. He could not decide if she wanted to convince him or herself of her fortitude.
“She speaks,” Mack said, “and in the common language.”
Var kept the surprise from his face as he studied her. She could be either brave or foolish and she did not strike him as foolish. Few women would dare talk to him in that tone. In fact, few men would speak to him in that tone. Var could smell her panic. She put up a show of bravery, but her fear was strong. He wondered if the slavers had raped her. Then again, the rumor that touching an empath caused madness may have protected her from that horror.
The girl’s light skin was pink from the sun as nearly as he could see under all the dirt. Her lips cracked and bled and brier scratches covered her. She needed a bath.
Var checked her wrists and felt no ill effects from touching her. She had burns on her wrists from the coarse rope. Grippers were not known for their intelligence, or for taking good care of their slaves.
Mack sat down and pulled food from his sack. “Something tells me you need to feed her before you wash her,” Mack grinned.
“Observant,” Var shot back.
The matchstick in Mack’s mouth moved up, then down as he chuckled.
The girl did not reach for the food when Var offered it. “Eat or I will force feed you,” he told her in the common language.
Anger flared in her face and posture, but she picked up a piece of dried peach and bit into it. “There is no need to threaten me.”
Var studied her eyes. They were not a color he had ever seen. Her eyes promised a cool lagoon of deep green making him think of serenity. If only he could fall into their depths. The tangled mess of hair was a brighter, lighter shade of red than the empaths he had seen. Her hair did not hang straight, but went every direction in a contorted mass of curlicues and spirals. He wondered how she got her hair to do that.
Var moved away, but watched her. After they ate, he squatted in front of her again, close enough to touch her.
She tried to scramble away from him. Mack laughed.
Var pulled her up, holding her shoulders until he knew she could stand.
“Follow me,” he said.
She tried to, but gasped and hopped on one foot after the first step. He held her upper arms, preventing a fall. Then he sat down with her in his lap so Mack could inspect her feet. She fought. The panic in her eyes told him volumes. Someone had hurt this girl. Held her down and hurt her.
“Be still, we are helping you.” He held her, crossing her arms on her chest and restraining them, while she kicked and twisted and fought them like a wild thing.
Mack grabbed her ankle and pulled a piece of wood out of the arch of her foot. The smell of her blood became stronger. There were so many cuts from the briars, Var hadn’t noticed the stick that impaled her foot and caused the most blood loss.
Holding her tight, Var talked to her in the soothing tones he would use for a horse or wild animal. She finally slowed her struggle. When he released her, she put as much distance between herself and him as she could by crawling across the cave floor. She put her back against the wall and drew her knees up in front of her. Her wild green eyes began to glow before she turned to avoid eye contact.
“How far did you run with this stuck in your foot?” Mack asked. When she did not answer, Mack glanced at Var. “Not talkative is she?”
“Let us hope she remains quiet.” Var picked her up and put her over his shoulder to take her into the smaller cave. She beat on his back with her fists and kicked her legs.
Perhaps she did not enjoy being carried like that. “Stop it,” he said. “You cannot walk on that foot.”
She quieted.
; Further into the cave, he lit a sconce just inside another chamber. The hot springs in this smaller cave flowed into a pool suitable for bathing. Var set her down on the edge of the basin and handed her a ball of soap before he lit the rest of the torches.
“Take off your clothes,” Var said.
She shook her head and lifted her chin. “I have never… I do not disrobe in front of men.”
“You need a bath. Either undress and bathe yourself or I will do it for you.” He peered at her. “The water is waist high. You will not drown.”
She frowned. “You will not watch?”
Var held back a smile. Instead, he sauntered to the opening of the small cave and stood with his back to her. “I would hear water splashing.”
Moments later, he heard her slide into the water. She splashed so he would be sure to hear it. Var did not know why that amused him.
After a short time, she whispered, “I am finished.”
“Take your time, girl.”
She was quiet for so long, he glanced behind him to make sure she was there. The girl was submerged to her neck, her back to him. She sat on a boulder. The warm water contained healing minerals. Var knew from experience that soaking would help heal her wounds and relax her muscles. The next time she roused and told him she was finished, Var pulled her out of the water by her upper arms, and deposited her on a rock with a towel. He moved away to give her privacy. She sat with her back to him, her arms crossed in front of her. Her red hair, still wet from being washed, was thick and long and hid most of her. Even damp, her hair did not hang straight but cascaded in masses of curls down her back. “There are clean clothes in that bundle.”
He waited while she dressed. There were scrapes and bruises of varying colors, showing she had been beaten with what looked like a small stick. Her injuries were minor considering the ordeal she had been through. Var moved away, careful to keep his distance. He scented her unease. Nervous, afraid, and modest, she made sure he did not see her breasts or anything below her waist.
She did not have the wounded look of most rape victims. It would be best if she had not been touched. Whoever mated with her would have an easier time. Var’s gut clenched at the thought of another warlord mating with her. He shook his head. That should not upset him. His duty would be done as soon as he delivered her. Var did not plan to mate, and he never got upset over females. He did not even believe in the prophecy that the empaths were destined to be their mates. The people of Kryst put a lot of faith in that prophecy. Then again, his race was desperate and in danger of dying out. They needed mates.
Var felt helpless as foreign thoughts and emotions assaulted him. Things he had never dealt with until this day made him uncomfortable. He could observe her until the end of time and bask in her essence. Her presence had a soothing effect on him. She calmed him. Calm and satisfied was not a good state of mind for a warlord.
He shook his head. Looking at a female should not affect him like this. It was his job to take her safely back to his people and sanctuary.
Chapter 6
Anna focused entirely on the seeing. The world became flames. Everything burned. It hurt. When she breathed, she pulled fire into her lungs. She smelled her own flesh burning, yet she did not burn. It was the vision.
Anna saw Bess and the scarred warlord. The scary one they called Var. He’d found Bess, and things were not going well.
Bess had lived a more secluded life than the rest of them at the Facility. Anna knew the handlers hadn’t known how to train her. Her gift, the one they knew about, was considered useless by most of the staff.
Bess was a dream walker. She picked up the dreams of those around her, even without touching them. Although she seldom acknowledged it, she could walk into their dreams and talk to them. Most normals found it disconcerting to have a foreign presence in their dreams.
Since it was a dream, they seldom mentioned it to anyone.
Her permanent handler at the Facility had mostly ignored her and she had been lonely. The other empaths did what they could to comfort her, but it hadn’t been enough.
Anna suspected that Bess’s other, more powerful gift, was dangerous. The girl had no training on how to use or control her gifts.
The thought of Var capturing Bess and bringing her back was frightening indeed. Safety was an issue, a serious issue. The extra abilities they all had could be triggered in times of great stress or they could be shut down completely. For an empath, it took much effort and training to maintain control of her gifts under extreme conditions. The lack of control meant Bess was a danger to herself and those around her.
Anna gasped as the rest of her vision played across the screen in her mind.
She came back to her surroundings slowly, as if waking up. Anna found herself in Dren’s arms. He’d carried her into the keep and sat down with her in his lap on the first sofa in the hall. She blinked at him. He held a glass of water to her lips and urged her to drink. The seeing, always like a thick fog, required Anna to focus entirely on the vision. This one had been stronger than most. It was releasing her now. She came back to herself and her surroundings in stages. Cool here. She was in the castle.
Dren regarded her with an intense stare. “I will call a healer for you.”
Anna nodded. “N-no, thank you. I’m better now. Where is Destiny?”
“She and Lodi went to find Claire. You called out for Claire.”
She looked around the room.
“Perhaps you were in the sun too long today. Do not move.” Dren held a cool cloth against her forehead and brushed her hair out of her face. His touch was gentle. Anna wanted to touch the muscles in his arms. They probably felt amazing. They looked amazing.
When he began to move, Anna sat up and shook her head. Dren was a beautiful man. The idea of lying across his lap while on the sofa made her stomach flip. He melted her. It was not the sun, it was him. She blinked again, and surveyed her surroundings.
“Your color returns,” he said.
Anna finally came to herself. “Yes, I’m fine now, th-thank you.” She found it difficult not to squirm under Dren’s intense gaze. She wanted to tell him about the vision. If she shared it with another, then she would not have to bear the horror alone, but years at the Facility had drilled into her that empaths could only trust empaths. “I g-guess it was the sun,” she lied.
She knew he did not believe her, but she should discuss this with Claire before she blurted out what she’d seen in the vision. How did warlords know when someone lied? They all seemed to know. She needed to find out.
The sound of footsteps carried down the hall. Anna felt Claire and Destiny approach. They would help her. Being alone with Dren set nerves firing all over her body.
Destiny followed behind Claire, with Lodi bringing up the rear. Claire came and sat beside them on the sofa.
“I am fine,” Anna began, “just the sun, I think. I got a little dizzy.”
Claire nodded. “We’ll help you to your room.”
Anna tried to stand, but when she swayed slightly, Dren lifted her in his arms and strode down the hall with everyone following. Being so close to him did nothing to help her recover her senses. Dren smelled so good and being held in his strong arms, against his sturdy chest, left her weak.
Anna was overwhelmed with emotions and physical sensations. If she could choose a mate, she would choose him, but she wasn’t sure if she got to choose or if he did. Then there was the problem of not knowing what exactly constituted mating. Claire was doing well being Koda’s mate. That was a promising sign. She would ask Claire about the rules for mating.
Dren arrived at her apartment just down the hall from the rooms Koda and Claire occupied. Destiny rushed ahead and opened the door.
Dren carried her inside. This huge male with the sculpted arms of a granite statue treated her as if he held a delicate piece of glass. She felt a moment of disappointment when he set her on the sofa in the outer room rather than taking her into the bedroom, but it was probably for
the best. Destiny had fantasies of Dren in her bedroom. She felt heat on her face and worried she would give herself away if she was close to the bed and this desirable man at the same time.
She chastised herself, Bess and the warlords sent to get her were in danger and all she could think of was her attraction to Dren.
After depositing her on the sofa, he squatted in front of her again. So close. She held still when he lightly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and moved a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Claire and Destiny sat on the sofa across from her. Lodi took a position by the door with his arms across his chest.
Anna smiled. “I’m much better. Thank you.” Claire gave her a knowing look. She did not want the warlords to know how dangerous Bess might be. Not just yet.
Dren knew she kept something from him. Anna felt it. She thought she saw sadness in his eyes.
The big warlord sighed and moved to the door. After Dren and Lodi left, Anna faced Destiny and Claire and bit her lip. It was time to tell them.
Chapter 7
The clothing Var gave her was the kind the females of his people wore. A wrap-around skirt and a top with sheer sleeves that stopped just before her wrists. Two long pieces of fabric wrapped behind her and then around in front again at her waist. She struggled to tie them. He waited for her to dress. When she finished, she stood up and faced him.
Her panic flashed over him when he walked toward her and she made a small noise in her throat. She had projected her feelings to him and now he knew he had frightened her. He needed her trust, not her fear.
Var stopped before approaching more cautiously. He lifted her and took her back to the larger cave, where Mack had a cup of hot chocolate ready for her. The small fire heated the cave to a comfortable temperature. She did not hit him or fight this time. Maybe she was getting used to being carried around.
Var set her on a rock and handed her a binding for her hair.
When he took hold of her arm, she tried to pull it away. He held it firmly and applied healing salve to the red marks on her wrists.