Savage Pursuit

by Michelle Marquis

  “You sent for me, Excellency?” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

  “Come in,” he replied stiffly, getting to his feet.

  She entered the tent and stood at attention. A nervous sickness settled in her gut and she was starting to know what her brother was talking about.

  Gavin extended a black gloved hand and opened it. His palm held the collar insignia of a lieutenant junior grade. “I am promoting you for this mission,” he said. “Because you are in the academy studying to be an officer, you will now see firsthand what that life is all about. From this moment on, you will be my second-in-command and answer only to me. It is your job to organize the mercenaries and assign them their daily duties. You will develop and rotate a watch bill, coordinate the hunting parties, ensure the canteens are filled when we break camp and that the scout has a full route plotted for each day’s ride. Everyone with the exception of me and the doctor will be assigned a watch. I expect you to work with your brother to ensure all these things are taken care of. Do you understand those instructions?”

  Gypsy’s head was spinning. She swallowed. “Yes, Excellency.”

  “General?” Doctor Scarlet Jonson said, popping her head in the tent.

  “What is it?” Gavin snapped.

  “I came by to examine your back,” she said. “Would you like me to come back later?”

  “No,” Gavin said, unbuttoning his tunic. He slipped it off his massive shoulders and sat cross-legged on the ground. Gavin’s back was a map of scars padded all over by thick sculptured muscle. With even the most innocent movement, he broadcast strength and power. Scarlet knelt down behind him draping her long red hair behind her ears. The pale skin of her forehead was creased with tension as she nervously sucked her bottom lip. Having only been on AEssyria for a short amount of time she had not yet become accustomed to the humid climate and her face was damp and glossy. A few trickles of sweat ran from her hairline. Her mouth sank into a deep frown as she glanced back at Gypsy.

  Even knowing little about medicine, Gypsy could see where the doctor’s concern was attached. In the middle of Gavin’s back, surrounding the wide raised vertebra, there was a pocket of swelling. Gavin didn’t say a word but Gypsy knew he was probably in a lot of pain, which would do little to enhance his already surly personality. She pushed the pointed end of the insignia into her collar and twisted on the backing while watching the doctor work.

  Scarlet placed her hand on Gavin’s back close to the swelling. Then she took out a quick-ice pack and snapped it in half to activate the cold. She placed it on the angry bulge, her fingers flexing with the pressure she applied. In response a few of the surrounding muscles spasmed after making contact with the ice pack.

  “Give me something for the pain,” he rumbled.

  Gypsy was suddenly aware that she was staring and couldn’t look away. It was a weird feeling to know that her father, the man she’d always thought so invincible, actually had a physical weakness. What if he couldn’t finish this mission? Can I find my mother and save her without him? She just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  Scarlet took out a preloaded injection and ran her thumb along Gavin’s back to find the right spot. She hesitated. “General, there is no drinking while on this drug. If you do, it could kill you.”

  Gavin grunted and Gypsy knew that sound. It was a dismissal, not an agreement to anything like so many mistook it for. It was his way of telling a person to screw off and avoid a confrontation at the same time. Scarlet found the right spot and injected him. Gavin arched his back and let out a chilling hiss. He opened his one good eye and it glowed with pure animal fury. It focused on Gypsy and her heart turned to ice. She immediately knew that she had lingered a moment too long.

  “Is there a reason why you’re just standing there gawking? Get the fuck to work.”

  “Yes, Excellency,” Gypsy said. She stepped outside and looked down at the mercenary who, she noted, was hammering the same stake as when she entered the tent. “I think it’s secure. You need to move on and find something else to do,” she said, waving him away from Gavin’s tent. The rest of the mercenaries were standing around talking and all the camp equipment was thrown carelessly on the ground. If Gavin sees this he’s going to ream my ass!

  She went over and was about to pick some of it up when Desmond stepped in front of her. He gave one short shake of his head as if she was about to pick up a deadly snake. Silently he approached the mercenaries and walked right into the middle of their conversation. “Do you want to eat or gossip? Because I can easily eat your rations in addition to my own,” he said with smooth confidence.

  They scattered without incident, each man getting to his assigned task. Desmond returned to Gypsy. He reached out and straightened her collar examining the new insignia. “Congratulations,” he said with a humorless smile.

  “Thanks. I was afraid you would be mad.”

  Desmond barked a short laugh and shook his head. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t want to be in your position for all the lands in the empire.”

  “That makes me feel much better. Thanks a lot,” she said watching the mercenaries and feeling incredibly lost. How the hell was she going to get these assholes to listen to her? They weren’t like normal soldiers. They had no respect for military rank and they especially had no respect for women.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you along,” Desmond said, pulling a metal flask from his boot and unscrewing the top. “First of all, keep in mind that there are some key differences between mercenaries and soldiers. The main point being that a soldier is more afraid of disobeying an order than dying a horrible death. Since we all know soldiers barely make any money they are not motivated by it in the least. A mercenary is only concerned with getting paid and protecting their own skin. Every order you give these bastards needs to contain the underlying threat of losing pay or their life. Those mercenaries who are an asset to your mission rather than a hindrance get more pay and more rations. That’s how you control them.”

  Gypsy nodded trying to absorb everything he was telling her while drawing a mental list of the tasks Gavin had given her. “Alright, what else do I need to know?”

  Desmond grinned down at her and she noticed some of the color had returned to his face. “Let’s recap first. What are these men?”

  “They’re mercenaries,” she sighed. Sometimes her brother’s sense of humor was tiresome.

  “Good. And how do you motivate them?”

  Gypsy tilted her head to one side and pulled her mouth into a straight line of annoyance. “With money and food. I think I’ve got it now.”

  He held up his index finger waving it back and forth for her to wait. “Since they are not soldiers, what else can you do?”

  “I don’t know, Desmond. What else can I do?” she said, untying her bedroll from her saddle.

  “You can fire them if they are not doing their job or they become a hindrance to this mission. Do you know how you fire a mercenary?” He leaned down to her and locked her with his yellow eyes.

  Gypsy stared back at him still holding her bedroll but no longer untying it. “No.”

  “You kill him.”

  “Really?”

  “You bet your ass. These lowlifes are very well paid. They are probably earning three times what you and I are getting. But they will exploit any weakness they perceive in any of us. Especially Nero. He’s the biggest fucking prick in the bunch and the most dangerous. If he or any of them step out of line, you deal with them swiftly and painfully. If it’s necessary to kill one of them to make a point then do it. Make an example of him or the rest will see you as weak and will mutiny. They can easily devolve into a pack mentality like a bunch of wolves so you need to be sure that you remain alpha at all times. Even to me.” He slapped her on the back roughly. “You’ll do fine. I know most of these guys so I’ll help you figure out what you’re going to delegate to whom. There are twenty-seven men on this excursion so you should be doing very little. You just need to b
e sure that everything is getting done. Let’s start with the most important duties: the hunting party and the watch bill.”

  Gypsy nodded, feeling incredibly grateful for Desmond’s help, and pulled a pad and pen out of her saddlebag. “You know I really appreciate you being so helpful. I won’t forget it.”

  “Save your gratitude. I have ulterior motives. I plan on getting you through this with as much success as possible because the way I see it is, if anything happens to you, that cyclopean son of a bitch is going to start casting that evil eye my way and I have no interest in being his second-in-command.”

  “I’m still grateful,” she said while scribbling a list of the mercenaries on her pad.

  “Well you enjoy that feeling while it lasts because I’m pretty sure you’ll realize what a fucked up position you’re in by the time a few days have passed.”

  * * * *

  Desmond had never been the jealous type. Oh sure, he’d had women try to make him jealous by flirting with other men in the bars as he watched. But he had never been so emotionally invested in any woman to be upset by another man’s attentions. So when he found himself becoming angry when Nero leered at Scarlet, the emotion was completely foreign to him.

  This evening it seemed like Nero was doing everything in his power to piss Desmond off. He’d called Scarlet over to a corner of the camp to talk to her in hushed tones, much to the doctor’s obvious discomfort. Of course all of it was done under the guise of discussing his latest health concerns but Desmond knew better. In his half-wit way, Nero was attempting to groom Scarlet for a seduction. It would have been laughable had it not been for the fact that Nero thought he actually had a chance with her.

  Finally, after the third time Nero beckoned Scarlet to his dark corner of the camp, Desmond had had enough. He came over with his hand on his weapon in case Nero had enough balls to try something violent.

  “What’s your problem?” Desmond said. Scarlet moved behind Desmond looking relieved.

  Nero glared at him. “I don’t have a problem. I was just asking the doctor some questions. Is that a crime?”

  “If you’re sick we’ll need to leave you behind,” Desmond replied.

  “I’m not sick!” Nero snarled angrily.

  “Then fuck off and leave the doctor alone. She’s not your personal physician.”

  Nero shook his head and sulked off to brood. Desmond turned to Scarlet and said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea you sleeping in a tent by yourself so I’m going to share yours from now on.”

  Scarlet blinked at him in surprise. She’d had her tent pitched right next to Gavin’s in case he needed anything during the night, which she was sure he often would.

  “Okay,” she replied. “Should we move my tent further away from the general’s?”

  “Let’s not bother. When we set up camp again we can add some distance, but it’s fine for now.”

  Noticing the disruption, Gypsy came over to them. “What going on?”

  “Nero’s being his usual asshole self and harassing the doctor, so I’m going to stay in her tent at night from now on,” he said, annoyed by how angry he sounded.

  Gypsy cast a nasty look in the direction Nero had gone. He was out of sight, hiding in the cluster that was the mercenary section. She returned her attention to Scarlet. “Is that okay with you?”

  Scarlet looked up at Desmond. “Sure. I’m fine with that. We pretty much live together anyway.”

  * * * *

  Torturous lust was robbing him of sleep and Scarlet, only a few inches away, was to blame. She looked like a sleeping goddess. Her long red hair framed her pale face and rested carelessly across the large swell of her breasts. Her plump lips were an inviting dark pink and he longed to kiss her. He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.

  Watching her doze was killing him, making his cock heavy and hard, like a piece of steel between his legs. It throbbed hungrily as his brain picked up the soft undercurrent of her female scent. In his fever, he almost forgave Nero for wanting her. She had a lush, innocent sensuality and he found her unbearably sexy.

  Lying on his side he reached out to her, pulling her against him. Scarlet smiled lazily and wrapped her arms around him. She yawned and nuzzled his neck. Running his fingers into her hair, he kissed her deeply. Her scent grew sweeter, richer, like blossoming flowers in spring and a carnal fever tore through his body. She kissed him back, pushing her breasts against his chest, and he nearly lost his mind.

  Desmond’s fingertips moved up under her shirt skimming the landscape of her flesh. She uttered a delicate sigh, not unlike the sound an angel might make, and wriggled her body to tease him. He found a plump nipple and pinched it, massaging its ripe fullness under thumb and forefinger. Then his hand wandered, palming the fleshy mound of Scarlet’s breast and kneading it like firm morning dough. Each bold exploration brought new sounds from his lover; light, intoxicating notes that sent pure fire into his blood. The feel of her warm skin against his hand was the most natural thing in the world. It brought him a pure and unblemished joy that his wounded heart had only known with her.

  His cock, which had been dormant most of this mission, was alive and pulsing with its insistent need for Scarlet’s wet heat. Did she know what she did to him with her lustful touches and gentle sighs? How could she not?

  Boldly touching her yielding center he was overwhelmed by the slick hunger he found there. Animal lust twisted his gut, rebelling against his demand for kindness. A deeper expedition into her center brought a catch in the cadence of her breath spilling her witchcraft into his heart. By the Gods, how he loved her.

  Desmond removed his fingers, inhaling the perfume of her succulent pussy. He slid his tongue along his fingers savoring the salty-sweetness of her cream until all remnants of her were gone. Then he seized the shaft of his cock and, pushing her panties aside, rubbed the swollen tip against her plump lips. A rush of clutching pleasure filled his cock and balls forcing him to stop moving for a minute or risk a climax too soon. Scarlet squirmed restlessly as she waited, as desperate as he was to begin their lovemaking again.

  Fumbling under the blanket, he stripped her cotton panties off. With his hands on her hips, he guided her closer, lifting her leg up to rest on his hip. Then, in a moment of pure bliss, he found her soft wet heat and his cock was swallowed whole. The pleasure of her pussy around him was so intense, he moaned louder than he’d intended.

  Scarlet giggled and kissed him. “Shhh,” she whispered.

  He pumped his cock inside her, pausing here and there to savor the feel of her. Scarlet’s gentle groans drove him to move harder, faster, until he felt the slick walls of her sex squeezing him as she climaxed. Clutching her buttocks, he drove up into her. Every inch of liquid friction brought more and more ecstasy until he simply couldn’t hold his passion in any longer. Burying his face between her breasts, he moaned out his climax hoping her flesh would muffle his cry.

  Then they lay with their arms around each other. They stayed that way, connected in silence, until his erection faded and slipped out. Scarlet was captured by sleep first, leaving Desmond to wrestle with his conflicted emotions.

  Chapter 3

  Finally the night—but it held no comfort of sleep for Gavin. Outside the mercenaries slumbered without a care for the person they were searching for. Was the general’s wife alive or dead, or being tortured just for the sadistic joy of it? None of the sleeping swine outside gave those possibilities a thought. All they gave a shit about, all they lived for was their pay. If they only knew how much their lives depended on her safe rescue, they wouldn’t dare be so carefree with their rest.

  Harlan, where have they taken you, my beloved? General Gavin Theron paced his tent, his mind savaging him with rage and worry. Every few minutes he would stop, run his fingers through his hair and fight off the urge to wake the camp. It’s too early yet. The mercenaries weren’t like him; they wouldn’t push themselves beyond reason to find his wife. No—Gavin was forced to wait at
least one more hour or risk the pigs rebelling.

  Gavin covered his face with his hands and sank down into his bedding. Every passing second was a lifetime of agony. Closing his eyes he could hear her warm, velvet voice like delicate kisses on his ears. He wanted her back with a passion that was pure madness and fever, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to just ride off alone. But this was where his experience took over, for he knew trying to find her without the mercenaries was close to impossible. He needed them to hunt and scout, and when the time came to catch the criminals who had taken his wife and slaughtered his soldiers, he needed them to die.

  His got to his feet and his back kinked sending out shock waves of horrible pain. Gavin doubled over, gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t cry out. The last thing he needed was those bloodthirsty vultures knowing how vulnerable he was. Charges of sharp white suffering rocketed down every nerve in his spine. With a trembling hand, he reached out and grabbed the silver, oblong pill box next to his bedding and popped it open. Measuring out three in his palm, he tossed them into his mouth and washed them down with a long gulp from his whiskey flask. His stomach turned in a second of resistance but soon settled again.

  Gingerly he lay down on his side and waited for the drugs and alcohol to take effect. He only wished it would ease the anguish in his heart.

  In his eight hundred and twenty years, Gavin had known a lot of women. He even thought he’d been in love a few times, but no woman, human or otherwise had ever come close to what he felt for his wife Harlan. She was light and happiness in his otherwise dark existence. His devotion to her went beyond love; she was an essential part of him, like the cornerstone of a fortress. She had shown him not only the true meaning of love, but how it could make him stronger. His wife was as brave as any soldier in his army and as noble as any monarch. Even if she’d never agreed to marry him, he still would have worshipped her. And now she was lost and he was to blame for not providing her with enough protection.