We hit the ground with a thud. On impact, I heard his ribs crack and felt his body go limp. His face was filthy, pale, and unmoving.
No. Hell no.
“Henrick?” I asked, pounding my fist against his chest. “Henrick, wake up!”
A hand wrapped into the hair at the back of my head and jerked me off Henrick. As I tilted my head back, I laid eyes on the person who held a huge chunk of my hair.
His skin was tan and worn. His face was wizened, and he wore tribal tattoos like the kind I had seen in my old textbooks.
He was…he was a native.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked. He hissed through his teeth. “Why have you come, Razz?”
Chapter 23
I lunged backward, my entire body shaking.
The older man—the native—had let go of my hair and was backing away, holding his hands out in front of him as if to show signs of concession.
But what did I know about that? What did I know about this guy at all?
He was a native—that much was for sure. But, like the beastly animals I had just bore witness to, he didn’t look anything like I’d been taught natives did.
So who was to say they would even act the way I expected?
It was common knowledge that natives were passive people. It was part of the reason Brula was able to root them out so thoroughly, so completely.
But now that I was actually looking at one, with his face only inches from mine, I realized that—even if it had once been true—there was no reason to think it would still hold.
I had been passive once, too.
But then, Brula destroyed my family, I was tortured, and my entire life was uprooted and shaken about. And it had turned me into a different person. A dangerous person.
I could only imagine the anger this native felt, now that his whole race had practically been exterminated.
And worse than that, worse than anything, was that this native somehow knew my name.
“Razz,” the native said, standing completely still as if to show me he meant no harm, which of course, I wasn’t going to believe so readily.
“How?” I asked, still shaking, still stammering. “How do you know my name?”
“I have lived my entire life in these woods. I have never set foot in the world in which you’ve spent your life. I’ve never walked on the hills or tilled the ground where you made your home. I never laid eyes on the people who raised you. But,” he said, his voice soothing and even. “I recognize him in you. He spoke of you often.”
“You…you’re talking about…”
“Your father,” the native said. “I knew him well.”
“Knew?” I asked, not caring how much my guard was coming down. There was something about this man—though he was odd and had just attacked me moments before—that made me feel comfortable.
“I’m afraid your father has moved on to the next plane.” The native swallowed hard. “It’s been nearly three entire spins now. Three colds, three hots. But I would recognize his eyes anywhere, and they’re right there in your head. So you must be the girl he spoke of, the child he prayed would have a better life than he would be able to give. You must be Razz.”
I wasn’t sure what to believe. This man did know my name. And how else would that be possible? Was it truly that I bore such a resemblance to the man who fathered me that someone who hadn’t seen him in three years could catch an echo of him in me?
The idea of that sent a thousand feelings bouncing through my head in all sorts of different directions.
But it didn’t matter. I was here, trapped in these woods, looking for exactly this. And the fact that finding it had made me a little uncomfortable was something I needed to overcome.
Especially given my current circumstances.
“Your friend has been injured,” the native said, ignoring my outburst and looking down at Henrick.
“We were attacked,” I said. “There was a creature, something hairy with long arms and fangs. It tried to kill us. There was a bunch of them, and my other friend….” My eyes started to tear up. “He’s still out there.”
“Then he’s dead,” the native answered. “There is no mercy in these woods. The gorillas…something changed them when the sectors were created. Now they are nothing but untamable beasts. Come, let’s go. We must move quickly. If a predator has chosen you, then it will follow you. Regardless of how far you run. We will take you to safety.”
“We?” I asked, looking around. He was the only one here.
He stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew, creating a high-pitched noise that cut through the woods.
“Stop it,” I said instinctively. “Are you trying to bring those monsters straight to us?”
“Not those monsters,” he said, turning to stare off into the woods. “Monsters of my own.”
Two natives came bounding out of the brush, riding atop four legged creatures with long faces and flowing hair. The animals were so absolutely beautiful they took my breath away,
“This is Chuk-Ra’s child,” the original native said, looking up at the riders. “She has returned to us.”
Returned? Had I ever met them before?
“Her companion is injured, and there are some predators on their trail. It is our blood duty to ensure her safety.”
“But not that of a usurper,” one of the riders said. He spat at the ground near where Henrick lay.
A torrent of anger rushed up in me, and my power surged. Ice coated the ground at my feet. Once they saw it, the natives seemed to lose their minds.
“You have the chills,” the original native said in a gasp. “You have the gift of the great goddess!”
Suddenly, the riders hopped off their creatures.
They fell at my feet, kissing them and mumbling something I couldn’t understand.
Then they stood, and the same man who had just spit at Henrick scooped him up and placed him gently atop the creature.
“You,” the other one said, pointing to his own creature. “You shall do me the favor of taking my four legs?” He pointed to the creature, motioning for me to get on.
My face heated with a sure blush, but I climbed on. The creature was calm and still, though I could feel its massive heart beating as I settled on its back. Looking over, I saw the man tie Henrick to the creature’s mane with rope.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
“Because he cannot hold on as you can,” the original native said. “As you should right now.”
The natives slapped the creatures’ backsides, and they jolted off as if they were being shot out of something. My head whipped back, and my hands tightened on the creature’s mane.
I felt its power, nearly as powerful as Henrick during one of his own power surges, as it galloped off into the distance.
It was strange at first, rough and shaky, but before long, I got the hang of it. The rhythmic nature of the creature’s steps was almost like music. I found myself enjoying the anticipation of its movements.
But, as soon as I got myself settled atop the thing, it skidded to a stop. The force of its sudden halt loosened my hands and sent me flying to the ground.
I hit against the dust. When I looked up, another native was standing over me.
This native was a woman—the first I had ever seen—with long hair that turned upward and pinned into a bun behind her head.
“Didn’t they tell you to hold on?” she asked, shaking her head and offering me a dark, wrinkled hand. As she pulled me up, she smiled at me. “You’re one of us, aren’t you? I can feel the energy pouring off you. It’s like a song that only someone like you or I could hear. And it’s quite beautiful.”
Her hand went from my palm and into my hair. She brushed it with her fingers and looked deeply into my eyes. I wondered if she could see my biological father hidden in them as well.
“You would be able to hear it coming from me, too, if you had been trained properly, if you had been allowed to live the way you were mean
t to.”
The original native walked up with the other two. “Her father did what he thought was right, Mi-Ta.”
The riders untied Henrick and pulled him down from the creature, then carried him into a hut in the distance. The small structure was made of sticks, leaves, and a green leafy string I had never seen before. And it was one of three similar structures that surrounded a circle of rocks and burnt edges.
“Where are they taking him?” I asked, my body pulling toward Henrick.
“Inside to rest,” Mi-Ta said, smiling at me and ushering me toward the makeshift gravel pit in the center of the clearing. “He will be whole again. Just give him time.” She shook her head. “Your love will not leave you this night.”
“Oh, no, Mi-Ta. You’ve got the wrong idea. Henrick and I are barely even friends, let alone—”
The woman chuckled sharply, but she said nothing else on the matter.
“Have you eaten?” the original native asked, moving toward the closest of the huts.
“Uh…you mean today?” I asked.
“I mean ever, child,” he said, disappearing into the hut and reappearing with pink meats and colorful herbs. “You are treated to chemicals and drugs, things in your foods meant to keep you docile and a shell of who you are. It was always that way with the usurpers. They fear what they do not understand. Because of that, they wish to control it.”
Mi-Ta snapped her fingers, and a fire appeared in the gravel pit.
I lurched backward, remembering the fire and what it meant to Brula.
“It’s an ugly ability. Destructive,” Mi-Ta said, motioning for the original native to place the meats and herbs on skewers and roast them over the now-crackling fire. “But it is what I have. It is what my mother had as well, before your regent took her over.”
“Your mother?” I asked, my mouth going dry. “Your mother’s body is what Brula is living in right now?”
“Unfortunately,” the woman said, the corners of her lips dipping into a deep frown. “She came to us years ago, offering to leave us in peace if one of our people would sacrifice themselves. And so, to keep the rest of us safe, my mother gave her life.”
“And it was for nothing,” the original native said. “She still came. She tried to harness us, to keep us caged like animals. So many of us died escaping, and even more were killed by the disease and dangers of where we were forced to take shelter.”
“Is that…is that how my father died?” I asked, closing my eyes.
“Your father died of a broken heart,” Mi-Ta said. “And it is that same heart that has kept you safe all these years.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my mouth beginning to water at the scents drifting from the cooking meats and herbs.
The original native pulled the food from over the fire and began to tear at it with his hands. It wasn’t long before he placed a bunch of meat and herbs at my feet.
“Eat,” he said. “See how food is meant to taste.”
I picked up the warm meat. Although I probably shouldn’t have eaten something from someone I didn’t know, I felt comfortable enough with these people to pop it into my mouth.
The taste of it was unlike anything I had ever known. It was brighter, more brilliant than anything I had ever experienced, as if I had been asleep all this time and I was only now waking up.
After eating, we spent hours just sitting and talking until well after the sun had gone down. I’d spent most of the time trying to convince the others we should go after Prince Park, but the others were adamant: that would only make his sacrifice for nothing. I had to trust he would be okay, the same as my father had apparently trusted I would be okay with him.
After the conversation had died down, I remembered something Mi-Ta had said.
I turned to Mi-Ta. “What did you mean earlier?” I asked, leaning closer to the fire for warmth. “You said that my father’s heart had protected me all these years. What does that mean?”
“Love is different for us,” she said, looking deep into my eyes. “It’s stronger. It’s living, in a sense. The love your father had for you, even though he didn’t know you…it pulled from him, especially after his death, and wrapped itself around you. Our love is like that. It keeps those closest to our hearts safe.” Mi-Ta’s eyes moved over to the hut where they had put Henrick. “And our truest loves, we make them capable of nearly anything.”
“Mi-Ta,” I said, sighing. “I know you think you see something between Henrick and me, but—”
“Life is short, child,” she said, standing as if to say our time for talk was finally over. “Too short to lie to ourselves. At least about things that matter. Your father found that out too late.”
Mi-Ta and the other natives said their goodbyes and moved back into their huts, leaving me on my own. But I wasn’t alone. I was never alone with Henrick around. He had given so much for me. He had nearly died trying to protect me, and something told me he would do it again.
I found myself standing and moving toward where Henrick was.
Soon, I was there in front of him.
And he wasn’t sleeping.
He had gotten up and was standing in the firelight of the room—pale, tired, and shirtless. And he was staring at me the way he always had. But now, for whatever reason, I knew what it meant.
The way he looked at me, it was like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Oh…” I said, finally piecing it all together.
“Are you okay?” he asked, moving toward me.
“Yes,” I answered, rushing toward him. “I will be.”
And then I closed the distance between us and kissed him hard.
Chapter 24
I fell into Henrick, feeling the heat rolling off him in waves. The thought he might be in pain, that the injury he sustained earlier today might still be weighing on him, pulled at me. But the passion that had ignited was too much for me to stop or even slow down.
And besides, it wasn’t as if he seemed to mind.
His lips roamed my neck, kissing me up and down and settling at the start of my shoulder blade. He put his arms around me, and then guided me down onto the cot. As his hands slid out from under my back and settled at my hips with a tight grip, heat spread like a brush fire through my body.
I had always noticed how tall he was, how mammoth and intimidating. In fact, it might have been the first thing I observed when I saw him that first day back at the wall. And it had obviously occurred to me just how ridiculously attractive the man was. My embarrassingly graphic mindscape dream was enough to prove that.
But even in that dream, even in the titillating fantasies I had never fully allowed myself to have, I didn’t know it could feel like this.
I didn’t know his hands would fit around me so perfectly, as if the Maker himself had shaped me just for them. I didn’t know his lips would be so warm, so soft in comparison to the rest of his body. And I certainly didn’t know I would react so vibrantly, so immediately, to his touch.
I bit my lip as his hands moved around to the front of me.
He was already shirtless—hard chest, smooth stomach, and a sheen of sweat that made him all the more delicious somehow. His bare hands traveled under my shirt, making a mockery of the thin fabric that separated me from him.
He could have ripped my shirt open. Easily. But instead, his fingers worked gently and deftly at each button until everything—myself included—came undone. As he opened my shirt, his calloused hands rubbed over my breast, calling my nipple to attention and eliciting an unexpected moan from my lips.
He looked down at me, exposed, shivering, and undeniably desperate for him to continue. My chest heaved toward him as if my breasts were begging for his touch. His eyes, as intense as ever, darkened with a ravenous hunger I had only seen in echoes before this.
Henrick wasn’t holding back anymore. He wasn’t letting the job we had to do stand in the way of him taking what he wanted. What I was giving to him.
His rough palms scoured my breasts, each possessive squeeze sending sparks of pleasure all throughout my body.
I shook as his touch rocked me in ways I never planned for.
I hadn’t been a particularly wild girl back in the Dustlands. That being said, I wasn’t a prude either. I’d had boyfriends. I’d even had flings. But I never knew it could feel like this. I never knew a man’s touch could align so perfectly with my body’s desires, that a man could rip through my defenses with one touch, or that I would like it so much.
When his hands fell away from me, my mouth went dry. I looked up at him, silently begging him to continue, a part of me fearing he had snapped out of whatever it was that came over us. But the hunger in his gaze was still there.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, huffing sharply so that his magnificent chest rose and fell in breathtaking movements.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I said, cupping his face in my hands and bringing his mouth back to mine.
I nibbled at his lip. A little at first, and then hard enough to make him groan. To bring back that fire in his touch.
He collided with me, this time allowing his hips to press against mine. His sex to rub against my own. The feel of him, pressed hard and hot between my legs, was enough to force the last bit of hesitation out of my mind.
I reached down, unsnapped my pants, and slid them off. Once I lay beneath him with only an unbuttoned shirt on, I slid my hands to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. He put his hands over mine, helping me unfasten it. I brushed his hands away, flipping his button open, and pushing my hands inside on his warm skin, hooking my thumbs on the waistband. I tugged his pants down past his hips, freeing him, and then he kicked them to the floor to join my own.
I wrapped my palm around him, feeling his girth for the first time, nearly letting out a small gasp of shock. I’d expected him to be large—everything about Henrick was big—but this might be too much. But I didn’t want to stop. Judging by the way he nudged against me as I guided him between my legs, neither did he.
Under: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 5 (The Othala Witch Collection) Page 17