Warlord's Flame (Krystile Warriors Book 2)
Page 15
Var handed her the drying cloth without looking at her. “It is the adrenalin. It has left you weak. You will feel better soon.”
“This never happened to me before.”
“You came close to death. It is a normal reaction.” He dropped the bag that contained her dry clothes on the ground at the water’s edge and walked away to give her time to regain her composure. When he turned again, she was dressed in clothing he had bought from Erik. She wore black pants that fit at her waist and ankles and a black blouse that slipped over her head. The sleeves and legs of the pants were puffy. She also wore a band around her waist that accentuated her breasts and the flare of her hips.
As he checked the horses again, she said, “I sent the horses calming thoughts.”
Var let his gaze fall on her for a moment. “That was a brave thing to do.” The stampede could not have been easy for her, yet she had the presence of mind to soothe their horses.
Bess responded to his approval, and rewarded him with a tremulous smile.
He would do a lot to see her smile at him again. Yes, he would do quite a lot.
Var sat her on the horse and put a moccasin on her foot. Then he walked to the other side. He nodded when he checked her injured foot and found it healed. He slid the moccasin on her. Var held her slender ankle a bit longer than he needed to. Her skin was soft. Smooth. He wanted to kiss the arch of her dainty feet, then kiss her ankles, then move up her shapely legs to her center. Then he would knead her pretty breasts and kiss them. Var wondered what sounds she might make while he used his mouth on her.
He mentally shook himself. It was no good, having these thoughts about the empath. He had to stop. Her nearness left him reeling and unsure.
Var was never unsure.
He always knew what to do. Feeling this uncertainty was not acceptable. But she looked good to him and she smelled even better.
He managed to release her ankle so they could resume their journey. They splashed through a shallow part of the stream and made their way deeper into the woods. The forest afforded them much more protection than the open fields.
Maybe this was a good time while she was off balance. “Tell me of your abilities.”
Bess lowered her head and he heard her heartbeat accelerate.
“You have been a slave all your life. I would think you would be willing to do whatever is necessary to assure your freedom.”
“I have not been a slave.” She stopped. That was a lie. “Will I get that? Freedom?” Bess asked.
“Only if you do not kill yourself before I get you to safety.” He spoke softly, but there was steel in his tone. “Tell me of your extra abilities.”
“I am not a strong empath.”
“I do not enjoy repetition, yours or mine. You have a gift. I would hear of it.” He wondered how she would explain her dreams. She was holding something back from him. He was sure of that. Var had interrogated many prisoners. His experience along with his ability to smell when someone was lying told him she was not telling him everything.
“I told you, we don’t speak of it,” Bess said. Her voice was raised and she was shaking. The smell of fear was thick around her. Was this some conditioned response?
“Girl, we travel through dangerous country. There are many who want to capture you, hurt you. I would know about your extra abilities. I am here to rescue you. I would not like to be surprised by your gift.”
“Don’t call me ‘girl’. I am a grown woman!”
“You are changing the subject.” Var relented. “To call an unmated female ‘girl’ is not derogatory among my people. And we were speaking of your gift.”
She sighed and her scent changed from terror to anger. “My ability is not a — beneficial one. I was considered useless. You are going to turn me in for the bounty. You get paid whether you know my gift or not. I’m not an idiot.” She projected anger then, he felt it.
Var clenched his jaw. “You have no idea what I will do. We made arrangements with Claire’s handler to get her before the program was shut down. We negotiated and bought Anna from grippers, and Destiny made her way to us at the Trade Center after she escaped from the Special Threat Squad.”
“What program!? W-what are? What program was shut down!?” Her voice was strident and the scent of her fear hit him at the same time as her panic and anxiety. It must have hit the horse also. Var had to work to keep the animal from bolting.
“The MX program at the Facility was shut down,” Var said. He did not flinch when her emotions hit him, but he had difficulty keeping his voice soft.
“When? When did that happen?” Bess sputtered, her voice rising as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I don’t believe it.”
“The program terminated ...”
“T-terminated! No! By the fates, no! What happened to the MX? Are they selling them? We don’t have the knowledge to live in society. They never taught us!”
Var sighed. “Not selling,” he said softly. “Most were stolen or did not return from assignments. Many MX handlers saw an opportunity to make money by selling the empaths in their charge. They are scattered, bought and sold on the black market. They are hunted.”
“But the Facility — what did they do with the others?”
How was it she did not know this? Bess choked back a sob. Var continued. “I assumed you escaped after the Facility closed.”
“Closed. No.” She was trembling wildly. He held her tightly and felt her emotions as she spun out of control.
Chapter 21
The horses stomped their feet and rolled their eyes as if a predator stalked close to them. Their mount reared and began to run.
Var sawed back on the reins to control the horse long enough for them to dismount. On the ground, he turned her around to face him.
She crumpled to the grass, her arms hugging her middle as if she were mortally wounded and trying to stop the bleeding. Instead of blood, feelings poured out of her. Var steeled himself against the onslaught and knelt on one knee until she closed down and quieted.
He watched as she opened and closed her mouth several times, looking from side to side through unfocused eyes.
Var held her close to his chest, her face pressed against him with one hand at the back of her neck. She made no sound as he felt her pull her emotions into herself.
It was probably dangerous to hold her. She could project, but instinct told Var that he held her together in some way he did not understand. He could not let her go.
“I thought you knew,” he said gently.
Bess shook her head and covered her face with her hands.
Var cursed his luck. Not only did he get a suicidal MX, he got one who was having a breakdown. Now he had to be soothing. He had seen it done, but had little experience. No experience as a matter of fact. He had not soothed females. The kind of females he was most often around required only money if they even wanted that from him. There had never been a need for any emotional interaction from him and he liked it that way.
Bess was different. Var rubbed slow circles on her back with his open palm while he held her. He could say nothing that would make her feel better. She had lost everything she had ever known. No matter how much she may have hated the Facility, there was no going back.
Var had never been good with words. He preferred action. He excelled at action. But he could remember no time when he regretted his lack of words more than now. This morning, she had hated him. During the stampede, she had sought to help him when she ignored her own terror and tried to calm the horses. Now, she clung to him as if he could hide her from the evils of the world. As if he were her only defense against the extreme cruelty that ran rampant.
Fierce emotions rose up in him. He must protect her. At a loss and angry with himself, Var wondered how it could be that he had lived this long and except for his failure as a child, was only now running into problems over which he had no control.
It was not right for him to feel helpless. All he had to offer females was sex
. It was hard and fast, but brutally satisfying sex. Females who wanted that were many. They were anxious and willing to lay with a Warlord of Kryst, even one with so many scars.
But this little female in his arms — needed something else from him. Even if he knew what that might be, he had no idea how to give it.
Her spine stiffened and she pulled away and stood straight. Had she only now realized that she sought comfort from her enemy? The girl pushed against his chest with fisted hands, stepping back and turning away.
Why did he feel such painful loss? Was she projecting that to him, or was that his own emotion when she stepped out of his arms?
Darkness would be here sooner than he wanted. “I would know if you can continue,” Var said.
He thought Bess nodded her head. Not sure, he got the horses. They had to continue now. They had no choice.
She whispered into the wind. “All this is my fault.”
Var had no idea what she meant by that, but there was no time to ask about it now. He held her gently when they resumed their journey. She said nothing when he urged the horses toward the darker shadows of the forest.
They rode in the cooler shade of the trees. The girl filled his heart with her silence and brokenness.
Var handed her the canteen. She did not take it. “Drink.”
Her movements were slow, languid. She took the canteen. Held it, but did not drink. When it slipped from her hands and hit the ground, Var stopped and retrieved it.
He pulled her from the horse. She walked a few steps and slowly sank to her knees.
Var tilted her face up and pressed the canteen to her mouth. She parted her lips, but he had to fist her hair to keep her drinking. When he let her go, he expected to see fury in her eyes. There was none. Bess did not even look at him. She sat, listless, staring into the forest. The girl had given up, but he could not allow her to quit. She was vital to their plans.
“We have to keep going.”
She did not move. “Why? We could just stay here.”
“Not an option, mouse.”
They rode as fast as he dared. He needed to make up time if he was to meet Mack tomorrow. Var pushed on through the darkness, his night vision allowing him to find his way through the trees. Bess must be tired, but she never said a word. Var remembered what it was like to have everything you knew violently ripped from you. She was devastated and he had no words of comfort to offer.
With the horses exhausted, Var found a secluded area surrounded by an impenetrable hedge. They would camp here tonight.
Var led Bess into the dense brush, sat on a fallen tree, and handed fruit to her. He ate quickly, but Bess just sat. “I would have you eat,” he said. If she heard him, she gave no notice.
“Eat.” She turned her face away. All of her movements were slow as if she moved through water. He put the food away and held the canteen to her lips. “Drink.”
She drank and held the canteen until he took it from her.
Var had seen this behavior in females after raids. He would watch her closely.
He walked her into the dense thicket, threw a blanket on the ground, sat down with his back against a large tree, and pulled her down to sit between his legs.
She did not fight when he pulled her back against his chest and covered them both with a lightweight blanket.
He missed the defiant lift of her chin, the flash of fire in her deep green eyes. She was small and soft against him. How would he rest with the scent of her so close? Her skin and hair were silky against his skin. When her breathing slowed and her body relaxed against his, he picked up a ribbon of her hair and brought it to his nose. It was soft and smelled good. He wanted her, even broken as she was, and he despised himself for it.
During the night she turned and snuggled into him for warmth. Although his body heat kept her warm, he was careful to keep her covered with the blanket. Later she turned on her side and sank down until her head with all that sweet-smelling hair lay on his thigh. It was going to be a long night.
She was all delicate vulnerability. Var was filled with primordial lust as if the coals of a fire he did not remember had been left smoldering inside him for eternity. These embers now flamed into a red hot blaze that threatened to consume him, would consume him. He wanted the fire to consume him.
Var had been entrusted with her life and safety. For the first time ever, he was torn between his duty and his personal desire. He wanted this female. It was not just lust, he had to possess her.
“Mine,” he whispered. He wanted to own this one. She was his alone.
Var yearned to stroke her hair, her face, to touch her all over. He wanted his mouth on that soft skin, kissing every bit of her, loving her with his tongue. Var would devour her essence until she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Then he would gently slide into her. He would make her like his touch. No, he would make her crave it. She would need him and want him with a passion that drove away her silly modesty. He would give her everything she desired. Just as he was compelled to protect her, she would be driven to fulfill his needs, to share her softness with him. He wanted to ease himself between her legs and feel her balm on his soul. If he did not have her, the fire she had started within him would devour what was left of his heart. A heart he had long avoided acknowledging.
All night long he imagined loving her. He tortured himself. First, she would have to submit to his love. Even if she were to do that, in the cold light of day, she had seen the scars on his face and body.
Var was not worthy of her. He had always known that, but now, for the first time, he tasted the bitterness and regret at not being able to have the mate his soul cried out for.
Var wanted this female. His senses told him she was his.
He had failed once, long ago. It was a failure that had cost his mother her life, and cost him his freedom. Var had been taken then, enslaved, beaten, and abused. Pure rage and hatred, had sustained him. He had grown strong and one day, Koda’s father found him and bought him. Eventually, he pledged himself to Koda and accepted his birthright as a Warlord of Kryst.
It had been enough.
It was no longer. He needed more.
The rage still smoldered within him, but now it was overshadowed with desire for her. He instinctively sought the balm her cool green eyes brought his soul.
He was in the mines when Koda’s father found him, downtrodden and without hope, surviving on hate of the Conglomerate and his own self-loathing. Var had sworn an oath of duty to Koda and his family. He still honored that oath today.
Koda’s family was the only one he remembered clearly. His mother’s face had faded. Much as he wanted to picture her in his mind, he was no longer able to see her clearly. He should be able to remember his own mother’s face.
She had given him life and then gave her life for his.
After all these years, he had a chance to have something for himself. It was wrong, but he did not care.
Var’s life had been hard and he was hard. He had a skill set that allowed him to torture and kill without mercy or remorse. Those skills were in demand. Koda’s family had given him purpose. His stubbornness had served him well. Like his coldness, it kept him alive while many around him perished.
Var had never considered that he might find a mate. The little MX feared him. She said she hated him. Long forgotten memories of injustices crept into his thoughts again. Bitterness, vile and black as tar, filled him. If he were to take this innocent little female — would she even survive it?
Var watched over Bess as she dreamed. He put his hand on her neck to see her dreams, but pulled back in horror. People were on fire, screaming in agony. They ran, clawing at the air for relief. Scorched, they tried to scream, only to pull fire into their burning lungs. They were in terrible pain until the screaming was cut short by lack of oxygen and lungs burned away. No longer able to draw in air, they continued writhing in agony, limbs contorting until the blackness got them.
The charred bodies no longer appeared human.
Yet they were far too hideously human. He was convinced she dreamed of something she had witnessed.
Bess cried out in her sleep.
Var stroked her hair and face. The dream finally released her so she could sleep again. He wondered at the horrors in her dreams. It was as if she experienced their ghastly deaths with them. He too felt their pain, their fear and the knowledge that they were dying even as the darkness swallowed them.
It was no wonder she feared him. His first thought was to find whoever had exposed her to such a scene, and kill them. She was too pure, too good, to have witnessed such a gruesome spectacle.
Var was ashamed of killing so many in front of her. His job was a bloody one. She probably thought him a scary killer who would have no qualms about turning her over to the STS.
The empath with spots on her face and wild red hair and green eyes that soothed his soul had thrust upon him a new outlook on life. She changed everything.
He settled in to keep the bad dreams away. Maybe he could help her feel safe until he could deliver her to his people. Sanctuary was no lie. He would show her.
The stampede had not been an accident. There were many who wanted her. He had already killed several and he would kill a lot more to keep this female safe.
It was a good thing he excelled at killing.
Chapter 22
The horses stomped their feet and rolled their eyes as if a predator stalked close to them. Their mount reared and began to run.
Var sawed back on the reins to control the horse long enough for them to dismount. On the ground, he turned her around to face him.
She crumpled with her arms hugging her middle as if she were mortally wounded and trying to stop the bleeding.
Var felt her feelings. It was as if her soul were being torn apart.
When she showed no signs of calming, he pulled her to stand in front of him and shook her.
She quieted.
He watched as she opened and closed her mouth several times, looking from side to side through unfocused eyes. She’d lost the ability to speak and she shook until he worried her teeth might shatter.