by Rayna Tyler
The more time I spent with him, the more he surprised me. He’d treated the gloves I’d given him as if they were a treasured prize. For an imposing warrior, his reaction to the simple gesture was adorable. Knowing his view on any description that didn’t compliment his manhood, I refrained from saying anything and savored the moment.
He got even worse the first time juices from one of the pods he’d picked got on the material. It took me five minutes to convince him the juices would stain his skin, and that he needed to keep the gloves on, not tuck them in my bag to protect them.
Telling him I could always have another pair made was a big mistake. He’d clutched the gloves to his chest and glared at me as if I’d insulted him. Once they were on his hands, they stayed there. The only time he’d taken them off was when we stopped for lunch.
I pulled the bag’s strap onto my shoulder and walked over the area that still needed picking and watched Zaedon. He’d grabbed a handful of grass before chasing after Chompers, and was easily coaxing the animal to return with him.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I asked, hooking the bag on the side of the wagon.
“The grundogal are not much different from a chaugwas, only smaller.” He smiled, opening his hand and letting Chompers snatch the last few blades of grass from his palm.
“Celeste told me about having to ride them across the wastelands, and how she’d named hers Lou,” I said.
Zaedon chuckled. “She seemed very sad when we had to leave him behind. I believe if she could have found a way to bring him with us, she would have.”
A rumble filled the air, spooking Chompers. I grabbed his lead and ran my head along his neck to keep him calm and stop him from running off. In the distance, I spotted a minisolport, a smaller two-seater version of a solarveyor, heading toward us. “That can’t be good,” I muttered.
The lack of technological communication anywhere on the planet had always been a problem. One the engineers who’d survived the crash had no luck overcoming. Supposedly, there was something in the atmosphere that screwed with signals, and the erratic weather didn’t help either.
In order to minimize any problems that might arise during a harvest, the agricultural experts, which included my grandparents, built roadways large enough for the solarveyors to travel around the fields. It didn’t matter how much preparation was done ahead of time, there was always a chance something would go wrong.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, the access door opened and Derrick jumped to the ground and hurried toward us. “Cara, we need you.” He skidded to a stop a few feet away from me.
My pulse raced. My first concern was Isaac and whether something had happened to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Your grandfather’s harvester broke down. Josh tried to fix it, but I think he hurt his hand again. He might even need to have the breaks in his bones reset.”
Anger replaced worry, and I snapped. “Why didn’t he send for me first?” Josh could be stubborn sometimes. He liked to do things himself, hated to rely on others if he didn’t have to. If he’d injured his hand again, I’d bet anything he was regretting his decision not to send someone for me sooner.
“I’m really to blame. I’ve been helping Josh out when you’re not around and thought it would be an easy fix.” He averted his gaze. “I may have made things worse.”
I hated leaving any of the crop behind, but the quantity we’d lose if the harvester wasn’t functioning was considerable compared to what was handpicked. Harvesting was an all-day event, which meant a long time with the main machines down was costly.
The mini was designed for hauling, but it would take too much time to unload the wagon’s contents into the storage containers kept in the cargo area. I’d expected Zaedon to insist on coming with me, and for the first time, I was disappointed he didn’t. I found myself searching for an excuse not to go without him.
“We can’t just leave what we picked, and there’s at least another half hour’s worth of work to do.”
“Why don’t you take the transport back? I can stay and help Zaedon finish,” Derrick offered, a little too enthusiastically.
“Cara, he is right. You should go and let us finish here.” Zaedon reached for the lead in my hand.
My internal warning system was blaring, and after their interaction earlier, I wasn’t sure leaving them alone together was such a good idea. Though Derrick’s behavior seemed unusual, maybe I was worrying for nothing. He wasn’t armed, at least not that I could see, and if something did happen, Zaedon was quite capable of taking care of himself.
Zaedon also had to be the most even-tempered male I’d ever met. I tried to convince myself this had more to do with completing the harvest and not my instincts telling me that leaving would be a mistake. Maybe I was worrying for nothing, and the uneasy flutter in my stomach was self-inflicted stress associated with getting the harvester back up and running.
Still unable to shake the feeling, I placed my palm on Zaedon’s chest. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
He covered my hand with his and smiled. “Repairing the harvester is important.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Now, go. I will make sure to take care of these plants for you.”
I noticed he hadn’t mentioned Derrick in his promise to finish the task. There was no doubt Zaedon had done it on purpose to irritate him, and the way Derrick was glaring at him didn’t make me feel any better about leaving. “Fine, but as soon as I’m done, I expect to find you at the meeting place with my grandfather.” I turned and sprinted toward the mini.
***
Zaedon
In the few weeks we had spent together, Cara had never requested my presence, let alone insist I meet her somewhere. I had wanted her to know that I trusted her and staying behind, though difficult, seemed to have been the right decision. I watched the transport until it was nothing more than a tiny spot in the distance. The farther away from me she moved, the heavier the pressure constricting my chest became.
When Derrick first arrived, and offered his help, something devious, bordering on malicious, flared in his dark eyes. Even the tone of his voice, which he had tried to disguise, led me to believe he had a hidden purpose behind his request to stay behind. A purpose I planned to discover now that Cara was safely on her way.
I ignored Derrick and led Chompers toward the nearest patch of plants and went back to work. Sometimes, when dealing with someone trying to be deceitful, remaining silent was the best way to draw out their intentions rather than questioning them directly.
Derrick was not armed, but he had come prepared to carry out his facade. He slipped on the pair of gloves he had tucked in his waistband, then began removing pods from the plants a few feet away from me. I only had to wait a few minutes before he stopped what he was doing to speak. “You know you don’t stand a chance with her, right?”
I gripped a plant the way Cara had shown me and carefully extracted two more pods, then tossed them in the wagon. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps nothing. There’s no way she’d ever be interested in someone like you.” He tightened his jaw, red spreading across his cheeks.
I took a deep breath, ignoring his comment. It would do me no good to inform him that his inference about Cara sharing the same dislike for my people as he did was inaccurate. Besides the affection she bestowed on Torrlun and his family, she had shown nothing but respect for my friends and me.
Being a vryndarr and personal bodyguard to the drezdarr was a dangerous existence that did not come without sacrifices. Ketaurran males were expected to protect females. Although the females of my species were strong, they were not trained to fight. For many years, my friends and I believed we would spend our lives without a female by our sides. A belief that changed soon after we met the human females, the ones we considered warriors.
After Jardun discovered Laria was his ketiorra, his mate, I clung to the hope that I would someday find a female who was my equal. Now that I had found Cara, I was not goin
g to let this human, or any other male, come between us.
The faraway rumble of a transport engine, growing steadily louder, interrupted our conversation. Cara was an excellent mechanic, but I struggled to believe she had repaired the harvester so quickly and was returning. My suspicions were confirmed when a midsize version of a solarveyor approached from the opposite direction she had taken.
Hearing the advancing vehicle, Chompers nervously jerked his head. I grabbed his lead and brushed his neck with gentle strokes as Cara had done earlier.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, a human male I did not recognize appeared in the open entryway, then jumped the short distance to the ground. “Looks like Mike’s right on time.” Derrick pulled off his gloves, smirking with satisfaction.
“Right on time for what?” I asked Derrick, feigning surprise since I already knew Derrick and his friend most likely meant me harm.
“To get you out of Cara’s life and make sure you never come back.” Derrick’s confident warning lost impact, the last few words faltering. His eyes widened, seemingly unsettled by the appearance of a second male getting out of the transport.
The two males walked in our direction, Mike’s strides lacking the confidence possessed by the second male. He nervously pushed his light brown hair off his forehead several times before he reached us. Compared to Derrick, he was of equal height, but he was wider, with extra weight around his hips and midsection.
The second male had long, dark hair tied at his nape, and a scar running the length of his right forearm. His eyes possessed the unwavering intensity of a merc or someone who lived in their world. A sword the length of his thigh was strapped to his hip, and I had no doubt he had the ability to use it.
Mike glanced from me to his friend. “Derrick, I…”
“What’s he doing here?” Derrick jutted his chin at the other male.
“Thought I’d collect the goods in person.” He smirked, perusing me from top to bottom as if I was something on display at the trader’s market. “A big ketaurran like him will fetch a nice price.”
I was relieved that the male had no idea I was a vryndarr. Hearing he sold ketaurrans into slavery nauseated me and was reason enough to end his life. After watching Logan interrogate two of Doyle’s males the previous month, I was more inclined to let him live and turn him over to Burke. If there was even a small possibility of finding the slavers and finally putting an end to their practices, I would gladly ensure he made it to the settlement alive.
Derrick grabbed his friend’s arm, as if pulling him a few feet away would keep the other male or me from overhearing what he had to say. “This is not what we discussed. You were just supposed to show up and leave.” He warily glanced at the merc. “What if someone sees him? What if Cara comes back before…” He roughly swiped his hand through his hair, then rubbed his nape.
“If you misaligned the connectors in the harvester like we talked about, then Cara will be too busy with the repair and you won’t have anything to worry about,” Mike said.
Getting Cara to leave before Derrick’s friend and the merc arrived was the only part of his plan I was thankful for. If the merc was also in the business of collecting bounties and realized who she was, her life would have been in danger. So far, Derrick seemed unaware of the reward, his feelings for Cara the only motivation for wanting me gone.
Derrick’s nervous gaze shot to the empty road behind us. “I guess you’re right.”
Mike smacked Derrick’s arm with the back of his hand. “Of course, I am.”
With the additional support from his friend, Derrick got a little braver and glared at me. “This is your own fault.”
Chompers had calmed and was sniffing the ground searching for more grass. I released his lead and crossed my arms. “How so?” I was curious to hear his reasoning.
“If you’d gotten hurt and left after I sabotaged the harvester, then I wouldn’t have had to find another way to get rid of you.”
I curled my fingers into my arms, tamping down the urge to punch the male repeatedly. “Did you even consider what would have happened if Cara had been the one who touched the part and not me?”
“Well, no, I…” Derrick’s face paled, the reality of what could have happened registering. “No, that’s not possible. I saw you two working together. She always had you help with the connectors, so I knew it would be you.” His voice wavered, his justification lacking conviction.
I removed my gloves, unwilling to get blood on the gift Cara had given me. And blood would spill, the amount depending on the merc’s skill level and how long it took me to disarm him. “What excuse are you planning to give Cara when she discovers I am gone?”
Doubt flickered in his eyes. Clearly, he had not given the outcome of my disappearance any thought.
Mike chimed in. “Don’t you worry, we’ll think of something.”
“We had a deal, so don’t even think about changing your mind.” The merc spoke to Derrick, then withdrew his sword. “Now, let’s get this over with so I can get out of here.”
Cara’s explanation of my continued stay in the community was based on partial truths. The humans were led to believe I was here at the request of the drezdarr to deter a recent increase in bandit activity, my true identity kept secret even from her grandparents. Many of the village’s inhabitants would be working the harvest. I was afraid showing up visibly armed might intimidate some of them and had chosen to leave my blades in my room.
The only weapon available was the thin dagger Cara had given me during our escape from the bandits. I had tucked it inside my boot, intent on returning it to her later. Even without the use of a blade, disarming and incapacitating the three males equated to a workout with little or no challenge.
Since the merc was the only one with a weapon, he must have thought I could be easily controlled. He aimed the tip of his blade in my direction. “Get in the transport.”
“And if I choose not to comply?” I moved away from Chompers and the wagon, giving myself more room to maneuver.
“Then I’m afraid this is going to get bloody.” He swiped the blade back and forth through the air. “Because one way or another, you’re leaving with me.”
I had noticed that most of the people living in the farming community did not use weapons, which included Derrick and Mike. I was fairly certain they possessed limited fighting skills and was not surprised when they took a few steps back.
Just because they had chosen not to participate did not mean I would dismiss them as a threat. They must have had something else in mind for disabling me when they had devised their plan to turn me over to the merc. I concentrated on the male with the blade, but made sure not to let Mike and Derrick get behind me.
“I believe you are mistaken.” I dodged his first two swipes.
I would have to get close in order to disarm him, a necessary tactic, one that greatly increased my chances of sustaining an injury. I advanced an intimidating step forward. The male held his position and swung again. The tip of his blade grazed my skin, leaving a thin cut and blood trickling along my arm.
“Told you it was going to get bloody.” He smirked and prepared for another strike.
Mike had not moved, but now that I had sustained a wound, Derrick appeared to be a little braver and was inching to my right. A growl and a quick angry glare from me stopped his progress.
The longer I took to disarm the male, the greater the chances that Cara would return. Having her fight by my side was not the issue. It was having the merc recognize her and say something about it in front of Mike and Derrick. They could, in turn, repeat it to someone in the community who wouldn’t have a problem turning her in for Doyle’s bounty. It would also increase the chances of her grandparents finding out about the dangerous and life-threatening work she did for Burke. The things she tried so hard to protect them from.
This time when he swung with his blade, I sidestepped instead of moving backward. As soon as the sharp metal tip passed my chest, I grabbed his
arm.
When he tried to wrench free, I brought up my knee, smashing his wrist against my thigh. The crackle of bone snapping filled the air. The male howled in pain and dropped his blade.
He staggered backward, clutching his damaged arm to his chest. “You draecking lizard, you broke my arm!” His seething gaze went from me to his sword. “Screw the reward. One less ketaurran on the planet is fine by me.” He dove for the blade, landing in the dirt on his stomach, his fingers inches from the handle.
I was faster, snatching it off the ground before he could reach it, then punching his jaw, knocking him out and guaranteeing he stayed in an unconscious state for a long time.
I quickly got to my feet and glared at the other two males, the majority of my anger directed at Derrick. “Who is next?” I cracked my neck, then swiped the blade through the air. Unless they lacked the intelligence to know they would not win, I had no intention of harming either of them.
Mike, wide-eyed and pale faced, jerked his head from the unmoving merc to me. He swallowed hard, then slowly started backing away.
“Mike, where do you think you’re going?” Derrick asked when his friend continued to put distance between them.
“I’m getting out of here.” He turned and ran toward the transport, muttering, “I didn’t sign up for dying” as he went.
Out of the three males, Derrick was the one I held accountable for what had transpired. I was determined to make him pay for inadvertently trying to harm Cara. Going after Mike would divide my attention and give Derrick a chance to flee.
I could have used the dagger in my boot to stop Mike, but there was no honor in knifing the male from behind. After switching the merc’s blade to my other hand, I bent over and selected a rock large enough to fit in my palm, then threw it using the same accuracy I applied to my blades.
“Mike, look out!” Derrick’s warning did no good.
The rock caught Mike between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the transport, his head bouncing off metal. With a loud groan, he toppled sideways, landing in the sandy dirt, gripping his head and moaning.