by Autumn Dawn
“So it’s tropical? Must be nice,” she said, fishing. Why were these guys so secretive about their country? They couldn’t be illegal aliens, not with the kind of cars Fallon flashed.
The men exchanged amused glances.
“You would find it very exotic,” Fallon answered, reining his horse around a broken stump. “Not many are privileged to see it.”
As if that told her much. “Why is that? Does it have to do with your government? Is it communist or something?”
Fallon grinned. “No communists. The people are not oppressed or in fear of their lives. The leader of our country, Jayems, is well liked. We are merely selective about immigrants.”
“What about visitors? Is there much of a tourist trade?” She felt Mathin chuckle.
“No tourists,” Fallon confirmed.
Stumped by his description, she guessed, “Is it an island?”
“I’ll tell you what,” Mathin offered, guiding his horse onto the thin game trail Fallon turned onto. His voice held more than a hint of amusement. “Save your questions until we stop for a rest. After that I’ll answer any question you ask.”
When they stopped she would see the answers to most of her questions with her own eyes. The challenge would be to keep her from bolting with panic once she understood where they were. To that end, he said casually, “But since it’s a long ride, let me tell you another story of the Haunt of the Dark Lands.”
As they rode he told her more of the history of his people, including the Symbiont War.
“Wait a minute,” she interrupted, confused. “I thought there were no humans in the Dark Lands.”
“So did the Haunt, at first,” he explained. “Soon they discovered they weren’t alone in their new world. Humans had discovered it first, and there was a small swarm of them about. Since the humans didn’t want to share and the Haunt weren’t about to go back, they made war.” He frowned. “A war that shed much blood on both sides, yet ended in a draw. In the end the humans withdrew into the swamps with their symbionts and the Haunt settled the land near the portal, where they remain to this day.”
Dark thoughts dampened his mood. Too well he remembered the bloody war and his father’s part in it. Fallon’s sympathetic glance didn’t help. His father was someone he’d rather forget.
Unaware of his black reflections, she swatted a mosquito from his back and whacked another buzzing around her face. The little monsters were voracious. Even repellant didn’t work—the little suckers seemed to like it. “What are symbionts? You keep mentioning them, but never say what they are.”
“No one really knows,” he answered easily, ignoring Fallon’s dark look. “The Haunt like to call them parasites, but any Symbiont-human will argue that they are anything but. For one, they restore life and health to their human host, feeding off the impurities and dead cells in their body. In return they enable rapid healing, agility and an increased life span.”
“Huh. Sounds kind of gross. Is it like a bug?” Andrea mussed aloud, thinking of several Star Trek episodes. She smashed another mosquito. “I hate bugs.”
“It’s not a bug,” Mathin told her, annoyed at Fallon’s snort of amusement. “And if we ever enter the Dark Lands, it’s the first thing I’ll find for you.”
Andrea grimaced. “Thanks, but no thanks. Not interested.”
Annoyed at her lack of vision, he demanded, “Why not? Wouldn’t you like to live longer? Be healthy?”
“Healthy would be nice,” she agreed. “But not if it involved a bug. Besides, who wants to live forever?”
Fallon laughed.
Stymied by her logic, Mathin muttered, “The Symbionts would think you were blasphemous.”
“Does it matter?” she asked, shifting to a slightly more comfortable position. “It’s not as if they exist.” Her comment effectively dampened that line of conversation.
About an hour later, they entered a small clearing. There was nothing special about the birch-ringed space that she could see, other than the view of the surrounding wooded hillsides. The greening hills did look lovely. “Are we stopping for lunch?”
“Soon,” Mathin promised. The stirrups jangled softly as he dismounted.
“I hope you’re ready for this adventure,” Fallon told Mathin, nodding toward Andrea. He remained in the saddle.
“What?” she asked, glancing at him as she dismounted. Good thing Mathin helped; the horse was tall, and she was stiff. She wasn’t looking forward to the ride back.
Fallon smiled. “I was wishing you luck on your adventure. Mathin’s going to show you the gate to the Dark Lands.” Mathin handed him the reins to their horse, which he fastened to his saddle.
She laughed. They were monkeying with her. “Yeah, right! I’ll give your best to Alice and the Hatter while I’m there.”
Although unfamiliar with her reference, Mathin knew sarcasm when he heard it. “If you see them, you’ll have to introduce me,” he said indulgently. Best she had her fun now; soon she wouldn’t be laughing. “In the meantime…” He shifted the satchel he’d retrieved from the saddlebags and offered his arm.
She shook her head at his teasing, but took it. After all that riding, she felt the need to stretch her legs. “We’ll be back in few minutes,” she told Fallon, just so he knew she wasn’t subscribing to their joke.
“In case you’re not, what would you like me to bring you from here, should I visit?” He was smiling, but there was something in his tone….
She frowned. These guys took jokes far too seriously. “Well, let’s see,” she pretended to ponder. “I’ll be stuck on an alien planet with no entertainment. How about a deck of cards?”
Fallon shook his head, but said nothing.
Mathin escorted her to the trees at the edge of the clearing. It was growing surprisingly warm in spite of the thickening cloud cover, so she paused to tie her sweatshirt around her waist. “You know, after all the stories you’ve told me, I’m almost disappointed there really isn’t a gate. The Dark Lands sound pretty cool.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Mathin gestured for her to precede him.
A trickle of unease made her hesitate. There was something about him, something odd about the woods around them. Even though she couldn’t put her finger on it, something wasn’t right. Suspicious now, she said, “Just where are we going, anyway?”
Her eyes dropped to the gun belt and sheathed dagger at his hips. This morning she hadn’t questioned the need for protection from wild animals; for the first time, she wondered if her companion might be one.
Dark eyes watched her with frightening calculation. He knew she was afraid, but he wasn’t going to let fear keep her from crossing over. Her world was no longer safe. He would’ve liked to reason with her, but women weren’t always logical, and he hadn’t known her long enough to predict what she’d do. Instead, he relied on persuasion. “But we’re almost there. Don’t you want to see the Dark Lands?”
“Maybe another time,” she answered carefully, taking a step back. Something was up, and she didn’t want to hang around and find out what. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t a trip to an alien planet. Unless Mathin was already on a private trip of his own? Chills ran down her back. The possibility of narcotic influences would explain so much. His mood swings, his fascination with the Dark Lands...How could she have been so blind to the clues?
A stick cracked loudly under her heel, causing her to slip on the leaf mold.
Instantly Mathin was there, preventing a fall with an arm under her back…and subtly walking her forward the last few, critical paces. Slyly, he distracted her with chatter. “Are you all right? You have to be careful, it’s slippery out here. These aren’t groomed trails.”
Andrea unwittingly took four paces before she tried to resist. “Stop! I don’t—” That was when she looked up—and screamed.
On the other side of the gate, Fallon winced. That must have been painful at close range. Shaking his head for the trouble Mathin had willingly embraced, he kicke
d his stallion into a walk.
He had business to tend to.
“What is that?”
Far from shrinking from him now, Andrea’s backside was practically welded to his front as she backed pedaled into him. Of course, he was blocking her escape.
The magnificent redwoods and tall ferns of his home world surrounded them, but he doubted she’d even noticed the scenery yet.
Mathin sighed. “It’s just a feeder beetle. They’re harmless.” If this was the way she reacted to what amounted to pet food, he was not looking forward to her reaction to the Haunt.
The object of her terror turned its black head toward them and waved its antenna, mildly interested.
Andrea yelped and skittered behind Mathin, using him for a shield. “It’s the size of a cocker spaniel! You’ve got the gun; shoot it!”
With a grunt of amusement, he grabbed a small stick from the forest floor and tossed it half-heartedly toward the beetle. It bounced off its back with a dull clunk, sending the creature scurrying.
“There. Now…” He frowned as she backed away, her eyes on the towering forest.
Wild spice scented the air of the alien world around her. The surrounding woods had shifted and melded together so subtly that she hadn’t even noticed the change, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was elsewhere. And suddenly, desperately, she wanted to go home.
Thinking to find the way back she whirled…and came face to snout with a wolf. She shrieked and shot back so fast she lost her footing and landed on her butt. So much for running.
“Easy,” Mathin soothed as he knelt and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The volti won’t hurt you. At least not when you’re with me,” he amended, for the volti were respected for their ferocity.
The pack was gathering, drawn to the disturbance. They ghosted from the woods, forming a loose circle around Andrea and Mathin. While nominally under Haunt control, volti could be unpredictable. Andrea was behaving like prey, and Mathin knew he had to exert dominance quickly, before the pack decided she was fair game. He locked eyes with the pack leader, a big female. “Mine.”
The volti held his eyes, her expression cunning.
“Mine.” Mathin’s eyes narrowed. In his present mood, he wouldn’t object to skinning her.
The female snorted and paced away, conceding the prize to the more dangerous predator. The rest of the pack melted into the woods, in search of easier prey.
“You’re going to get me killed,” Andrea whispered, but her shoulders relaxed.
“You’re making this more difficult than it has to be.” He helped her to her feet, helpfully dusting her rear.
She swatted his hand. “Stop it! This wouldn’t be happening if….” She trailed off, her eyes going to the end of the path. A company of a dozen or more werewolves marched their way with military precision. Armed like Mathin, they had the flattened faces of wolves and seemed at home with the volti that flanked them.
Mathin grabbed her arm before she could swoon. “Easy, there. You’ve gone white. No one’s going to hurt you.”
His assurances buzzed in her ears like agitated bees. Werewolves. Giant bugs. This place was going to kill her.
There came a time when even the most timid woman hit a wall. Flight was nice, but it was obvious there was no way to outrun the monsters now.
Mathin barely had time to grab her as she snatched the gun from his holster.
“Let me go!” she shouted, struggling in his arms. She kicked his shins as he wrapped her in a bear hug that squeezed the air from her lungs.
“Settle down! I don’t want to hurt you.” He grunted as she landed a sharp heel kick to his calf. Had he known she’d be this panicked, he’d have brought a tranquilizer. Hadn’t his stories helped at all?
Lack of air finally forced her to stop struggling. Immediately his arms loosed, letting her breathe. “Send me home,” she gasped.
“You are home.” He had to tighten his arms as she picked up the fight, but she was tired from the last battle. The physical contest didn’t bother him, but when she hung her head and whispered, “No,” it hurt.
She was trembling, so he turned her in his arms to comfort her, gently touched her cheek.
She bit him. Then she tried to knee his crotch.
“That’s it!” Mathin hefted the hellion and tossed her over his shoulder. When she pulled his hair, he swatted her sharply on the butt. There was ominous stillness.
“Sir?” A soldier had shifted into human form so he could speak. He was dressed all in black from his combat boots to his black leather vest. Even his hair and eyes were dark. The only spot of color on him was the red Celtic knot on the uniform over his heart.
He held a com, and his tone was professional, which much have taken some effort, considering the show Andrea was putting on. “Lord Jayems requests an audience with you after you’ve…” His eyes slid to Andrea and his nostrils flared. His gaze became rather glassy. “Neutralized the situation.”
“As soon as,” Mathin agreed, silently cursing the soldier’s reaction to Andrea’s pheromone. Since he was still wearing the nose-filter he remained immune, but this man had no protection. “Change and escort us back to the citadel.”
“I’m not going—oof!” Andrea grunted as he jostled her roughly on his shoulder, cutting her off. Now that she was surrounded by Haunt, her innate persuasive abilities could come out at any time. Only the change or the possession of a mate protected a male Haunt from the pheromone, and nothing saved them from the persuasion. He didn’t want her ordering the man to take her home. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a rogue, and he’d probably hurt the man neutralizing him.
Andrea hissed a curse and pinched him. “Let me down!”
Unused to hearing women swear, his brow rose in mild surprise. “Very well.” He let her slide down and held her arm as she found her balance. “I’ll give you the opportunity to walk with dignity, but act up again and I’ll toss you over my shoulder. Got it?” His hard tone let her know he meant it.
Lethal blue eyes glared at him. She could think of only two things he might want with her, and both made her despise him. “I hate you.”
“And on such short acquaintance, too,” an amused voice drawled.
“Keilor!” Relieved at the interruption, Mathin greeted him, clasping forearms with the dark-haired warrior who entered the clearing. He kept a grip on Andrea, knowing she couldn’t be trusted.
With high cheekbones reminiscent of a Cherokee warrior, the man radiated energy and command. Several volti followed at his heels like a pack of tamed hunting dogs.
The man’s dark eyes settled on Andrea, assessing and reassuring at once. He shook his head. “My wife has shared those exact sentiments; particularly as he dragged her through the swamps and fed her giant snails. Will you come and meet her? She is human, like you.”
Keilor’s calculation worked. With a nervous glance at the Haunt and an even more skittish look at Mathin, she fell into step with the stranger.
What choice did she have?
Mathin followed, watching her carefully. He probably thought she’d attack at the first opportunity. Jerk.
“We have two women here from your world,” Keilor said conversationally, doing his best to be pleasant. “One is my cousin. Both are about your age. I’m sure they’ll plague you for information from Earth.” Seeing that his long strides were too fast for her, he slowed to a more comfortable stroll.
“Were they kidnapped, too?” she asked irritably. Keilor’s conversation soothed some of her fear, but did little for her anger. If she’d thought she could outrun them, she’d bolt in a heartbeat.
There was a telling pause, but Keilor shook his head. “Not precisely. My wife used a dog to track my cousin’s scent and stumbled into the Dark Lands. Naturally, we couldn’t let her leave.”
“I don’t see why not,” she snapped, looking at Mathin. “Isn’t kidnapping some kind of crime here?”
Keilor looked at her. “Save your anger for Ma
thin,” he said calmly. “I wasn’t the one who brought you here.”
“But you won’t let me leave.” Her gaze challenged him to do just that.
“It’s not my decision.” His gaze moved to the trail ahead, dismissing the subject.
Dejected, she lagged a pace behind, covertly watching the forest for opportunities to escape. The depressing sight of volti running through the trees ruled out that option, even if she had the speed to outrun the men. Searching for inspiration, she looked up, but other than the magnificent redwoods surrounding them, there was nothing that would help. The ground was equally fruitless, though strewn with interesting plants and mushrooms. Their bright purple caps were the size of dinner plates.
“They’re edible, by the way,” Mathin offered, matching her pace. “And they glow in the dark.” Now that she was no longer physically struggling, he felt she might be ready to listen. He hoped so; he didn’t relish seeing her fear. The idea was for her to like it here.
“Thank you, Mr. Tour Guide,” she said acidly. Did he think he could worm into her good graces so easily? “I was dying to know.”
“Dying is what you would have been, had I left you behind.” Undeterred by her disbelief, he continued, “The woman we saw in town? The ugly one who scared you? She was one of the charmers I told you about. Charmers always recognize each other.”
She stopped and stared at him. “What? There’s no such thing as…” she trailed off as her eyes reminded her that stranger things did exist. “But you said the Haunt kill…” She blanched as the true reason for her kidnapping registered.
“I brought you here to save you from the cults. There’s nowhere you can go on Earth that they can’t find you. They have a lot of practice at it.” The list of Haunt kills to their credit certainly attested to that.
“I don’t believe you. You didn’t bring me here just to save me. Are you that hard up that you have to steal women now?”
Mathin stopped dead and fixed her with a lethal stare.