by Tana Stone
As she peered around, she couldn’t see Tommel anywhere. When he’d run off, he’d really run off. He wasn’t around the burned-out bonfire, or even the remains of the funeral pyre that still smoldered and sent thick smoke into the air. She looked quickly away from that, her gaze searching the nearby sand dunes that were lit up by the moons. No sign of him.
Maybe he’d gone ahead, too, she thought. It would be funny if they both had the same plan—to run off so it wasn’t so awkward in the morning—and then they bumped into each other mid-escape. Actually, that wouldn’t be funny, and she hoped he hadn’t had the same idea.
Giving a final, regretful look at Caro’s tent, Bexli dropped onto all fours. She envisioned the sand lizard, holding the image in her mind and feeling her body warm and then vibrate, and then there was a slight burning sensation as her skin became scaly and her fingers grew claws in the place of nails. It seemed to take longer than usual, the color of her scales slowly becoming as gold as the sand, but it was probably her imagination and her impatience to leave.
When the transformation was complete, Bexli stretched her short legs and hitched the pack so that it was secure on her back. She turned toward the direction she knew the ship had flown in and started running, her wide, webbed feet seeming to skate across the sand instead of sinking into it like her feet did. She crested one dune after another, the cool air skimming over her sleek form.
Part of her wished Tommel could see her. If he hadn’t been so easily scared off, seeing her as a lizard probably would have done it. Not many guys could handle her being a shifter. Another reason it was good that things with Tommel had come to a screeching halt so soon, she reminded herself. She’d always been better off on her own.
The only exception to that was her crew, and now it was her mission to find them. She raised her head and ran faster.
Eleven
Tommel woke up with Caro standing over him, her hands on her hips and her legs planted wide in the sand. He wiped at his face and felt grit on his lips. Had she kicked sand in his face?
“It took us forever to find you.” Caro narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you sleeping all the way over here?”
Tommel glanced around them and noticed that the dune he’d walked behind last night wasn’t in view of the tents. He hadn’t been paying much attention when he’d stalked off. He’d only walked until his head had cleared and then he’d flopped down, looking up at the sky while he thought about what a mistake he’d made, until he finally fell asleep on the soft sand.
Of course, the sand didn’t feel soft anymore. He resisted the urge to rub his back as he pushed himself up. Caro glared at him the entire time, and Rukken stood apart, not meeting his eyes. He did not see Bexli, and he wasn’t surprised she was steering clear of him.
His stomach tightened as he thought about Bexli and what had happened in that tent the night before. Even worse, was how he’d left. From the stormy look on Caro’s face, she’d heard all of it.
He brushed the sand off his pants. “I should speak with Bexli before we leave.”
Caro barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that one. She’s gone.”
He turned, looking from the female to the Dothvek. “What do you mean, she is gone?”
Caro gave an exasperated sigh. “I thought you might be able to shed light on why she would have snuck off in the middle of the night. You know, because the two of you were—“
Rukken put a hand on her arm. “It looks like he is as surprised as we are.”
“I don’t know why.” Caro shot him another look. “If, after all that, he was sleeping out here and she was in…” Her voice broke. “Is it any mystery why she decided to go off on her own?”
Tommel shook his head as he strode toward the two tents. She couldn’t be gone. It was impossible. He’d only been asleep for half the night.
He reached the tent where he’d left her and threw open the flaps, stepping inside and seeing nothing but a pair of rugs strewn haphazardly on top of the sand and a blanket in a heap on top. He could still smell the scent of them, and he could swear the inside of the tent held their heat. Visions of Bexli spread out beneath him filled his mind, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from bellowing his frustration.
Stomping out of the tent again, his head swiveled to take in the remains of the battle, the roughly-assembled tents, and the cluster of jebels tied to stakes in the sand. “Where would she have gone?”
Rukken was busy disassembling his and Caro’s tent, but he jerked his head behind him. “Caro thinks she went after the ship.”
Caro stood with her arms folded over her chest. “I know Bex. If she left it was because she wanted to save our friends. Not that she didn’t have other excellent reasons for wanting to skip this morning’s awkwardness.”
Tommel wished he was experiencing any amount of awkwardness with Bexli, instead of the murderous glares from her friend.
He tried to avoid Caro’s gaze as he quickly took apart Bexli’s tent, wrapping the fabric and jamming it into one of the jebel’s saddlebags. “Then we should follow her.”
“I thought you wanted to get reinforcements from the village?” Rukken asked, as he stuffed his tent in a saddlebag and rubbed the jebel’s furry mane.
Tommel had mentioned his desire to gather warriors from the village last night when they were assembling the pyre.
“That was before Bexli ran off by herself on the sands.” He peered across the dunes as the sun glimmered along the golden peaks. Although he was grateful it was no longer night, he knew that the sands were still not safe for a female alone. “We need to find her before she gets hurt.”
Caro laughed as Rukken lifted her onto a jebel. “Bexli get hurt? It’s usually the other way around.”
“She might have special abilities, but my planet is still deadly if you do not know it.” Tommel quickly mounted a jebel.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Caro said. “I’ve fallen into lightning sand before, but Bexli can get out of almost any scrape. If she’d fallen into your crazy quicksand, she could have transformed into some sort of fish and swum out.”
Tommel furrowed his brow. The thought of Bexli swimming in lightning sand was not comforting. “I need to find her.” His voice sounded rougher than he’d intended, but urgency was clawing at him. He could barely stand to wait as Rukken swung up onto his jebel.
“You should go ahead,” the other Dothvek told him.
“What?” Caro swiveled her head around to Rukken almost as sharply as Tommel did.
“He will go faster as one. We will be leading extra jebels with us to have when we rescue your crew and the other Dothveks, and there is a chance we will not go as fast…”
Caro’s mouth dropped open. “I thought we were sending the extra jebels back to the Dothvek village? Are you saying that I’m not a decent jebel rider?”
“We will send some back, but we need a few for your friends to ride.” Rukken swung himself up onto the back of one of the beasts, and it let out a loud braying sound. “And it is a skill to ride jebels as fast as Tommel can.”
Caro made an indignant nose and crossed her arms. “A skill I don’t have?”
Tommel did not want to wait and see how the Dothvek got himself out of that one. He kicked the sides of his animal, and it jerked forward. “Thank you.” He called over his shoulder. “I will find her.”
The sound of Caro’s irritated voice carried for a few moments, and then the sound died away. After racing up and down a few dunes, the couple weren’t even a speck on the horizon behind him.
Tommel bent low over the neck of his jebel, his fingers digging into the matted fur for balance as the creature ran with a jerky gait. The scent of fire wafted from the thick, brown fur, but it was not altogether unpleasant. He sucked in a long breath, grateful to have the thumping footfall of the jebel to distract him from the guilt tearing at him.
He was the reason Bexli had left. Caro had been right to want to rip him to bits. He never should have gone
to her in her tent, and he definitely shouldn’t have claimed her like he did. He had no right. Not when he could promise her nothing. Not when he could never give her his heart.
His pulse quickened as he thought of the pretty female with the iridescent hair, and his cock pulsed along with his heart. Tommel clenched his teeth. These were only urges. They meant nothing. He had to keep his focus.
Find Bexli.
Unfortunately, he had no idea what he would do after that, or what he could possibly say to her.
Twelve
The warmth of the suns heated Bexli’s back before she could see the rays creeping over the dunes behind her. She didn’t need to crane her neck to know that the planet’s pair of suns—one which burned small and white, and one that glowed a fiery shade of orange—were rising. The air still held the chill of the night, but she knew it would be burned off soon by the scorching heat.
A few short-winged birds with nearly colorless feathers flapped overhead, swooping down to inspect her and then rising again and cawing when they determined that she was too large to eat. Even though Bexli still ran in the form of a sand lizard, she was the same size as when she was in her natural state. She wondered if any of the birds on the planet had ever seen a lizard nearly two meters long. Considering the size of some of the sand creatures she’d heard about, she wouldn’t be shocked.
She’d been running most of the night, but her legs were not weary. Scampering over the sand had been easy, and she’d run up and down the wavelike dunes with relative ease and speed, taking breaks as she needed them. It sure beat trying to walk and sinking up to her ankles, or riding one of the ornery jebels who liked to spit and bray loudly. Those creatures might be adept at crossing the desert with their wide, padded hooves, but that didn’t make them graceful. Riding one of them was like putting a saddle on a Randarian jumping beetle. She hadn’t even liked it when she’d had to transform into one of them and let Max ride on her back.
Bexli paused at the top of a sharp peak of sand and peered into the distance. She was nearing the ridge of jagged rocks that rose steeply into the sky and edged the desert. The rocks were almost the same golden hue as the sand, and they also glittered as if jewels were imbedded in the stone itself. The long range created a natural boundary between the Dothveks of the sand and their enemy, the Cresteks who lived in a walled city beyond the mountain range.
Bexli had been in that city when she’d gone in to search for Max. She knew how to go over the walls, but she also knew of a secret passageway that led from outside the high walls into a secret room that belonged to the Crestek resistance. If her friends had been taken inside, she knew exactly how to get in and find them.
She liked to keep her mind focused on finding her friends. It kept her from thinking about Tommel and how easily he’d walked away from her the night before. If she was back at the camp, everyone would be waking, and she’d have to deal with Caro’s knowing looks and sly smiles—no way the pilot had missed all the screaming and moaning from the tent next door—and Tommel’s cool rejection.
After being so enthusiastic and passionate while he was buried inside her, he’d sure switched it off in a hurry. The solemn reserve she’d grown so used to had snapped back into place almost as soon as he’d pulled out. She tried to ignore the twinge between her legs, as she thought back to how good his cock and those rings that ran down it had felt.
Typical, she thought. As much as she’d thought a fling with one of the barbarians might be a good way to burn off some tension, she had not guessed that the energy that had crackled between her and Tommel would have been extinguished so fast.
It was better this way, she reminded herself. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was an emotional connection to worry about when she should be focused on getting the hell off the planet as soon as possible.
From her vantage point at the top of the dune, she couldn’t see over the mountains, but she hoped that her guess was right, and the spaceship had been parked on the other side—between the rocks and the Crestek city. There was a flat stretch of land where the trees and vegetation had been stripped, and nothing appeared to grow. She’d bet her ass that was where the ship was.
Bexli slid down the dune and resumed her run, heartened by the fact that she was close. At this rate, she’d be able to get to the mountains and through them before sundown, which put her in the perfect position to infiltrate the ship at night. Once she determined if her friends and the Dothveks were on board, she could go from there.
Part of her wished Caro was with her. She would dearly love to have the pilot’s knowledge of ships when she snuck on board, and stealing it back would be easier with someone who could fly the thing, but at least she wasn’t having to deal with Tommel and his annoying way of making her feel helpless. She’d led way too many rescue missions and captured way too many bounties to be seen as some kind of fragile female.
She was distracted by thoughts of Tommel when she crested the next slope, so she didn’t see the creature until she was almost sliding into it. Although the giant scorpion blended in with the sand, its shiny shell did not glitter gold. It was still partially covered with sand as it rose onto six enormous, segmented legs, its pincers snapping in front and its tail arched up behind it like a whip.
“Fuck me.” Bexli fought a wave of revulsion that rose up and made her stomach churn. She knew she had no time to dwell of how terrifying and huge the animal was, as it focused its wide-set black eyes on her. She needed to shift into something more equipped to battle a scorpion than a lizard. In her current form, she knew she looked exactly like breakfast to this sand creature.
Holding the image of a huge sand serpent in her mind, Bexli tried to shift. Her body warmed and then vibrated, but instead of the slight burning sensation that came next, she jerked roughly and fell to the sand. She looked down and saw slender hands instead of the form of a snake. Her throat went dry. For the first time since she’d been a child, she’d failed to shift.
Bexli heard scuttling behind her and spun around, dodging a snapping pincer moments before it clamped onto her. She tried to stand but her feet sank deep into the powdery sand.
“Shit,” she whispered. “This is not the time for a malfunction.”
She attempted to shift again, focusing all her energy on the shape of a snake. Again, her skin heated and there was a faint, buzzing sensation, then nothing. Her eyes flew open.
Well, this was bad. Really, really bad. She was naked and alone in the desert, battling a massive sand animal that looked frighteningly like a scorpion.
She rolled to one side as the scorpion lunged at her again. In her natural Lycithian state, there was no way she could outrun or outfight the creature. Her only hope was delaying the inevitable, or hoping someone came along to help her.
Bexli scanned the desert. Fat chance of that. She’d ditched the only people she knew for sure were on the desert. The Dothvek village was at least two days travel in the other direction, and she was still a decent way away from the mountain range. She knew that the Cresteks rarely ventured onto the sand, so the chance any of them would be close enough to come to her rescue was slim.
Still, she yelled as she threw herself out of the way of the scorpion’s tail that impaled the sand next to her. “Is anyone out there? I need help!”
After spending so much of life relying on only herself and her shifter skills to get her out of scrapes, she felt powerless, and she hated it. Being solo had always been her default, because she could always shift. As much as she adored her crew, she hadn’t needed them like they had needed her, and she’d always been fine with that. Preferred it, actually. She liked being indispensable.
She did not like the sinking feeling that she was going to die all alone. She didn’t want to think about why she’d lost her ability to shift. There were a very limited number of reasons why a Lycithian would lose their skill, especially once they’d reached maturity, and she couldn’t even bear to think about any of them.
Bexli sucke
d in a hot breath as sweat trickled down the back of her neck. The scorpion flinched as the warm slats of light spilled across the dunes and hit his back. A flicker of hope stirred in her chest, even as the heat of the sun beat on her bare skin.
Of course. He was nocturnal, like all the deadly sand creatures on the planet. She must have come upon him as he was burrowing back under the sand for the day. If she could stay alive long enough, maybe he’d tire under the sun or burn or whatever happened to nocturnal sand animals.
She swiped the back of her hand across her damp brow, as the massive creature spun around and raced toward her, his sharp pincers tapping loudly. Her heart pounded nearly as loudly.
Easier said than done.
Thirteen
Tommel heard the screams drifting high over the waves of sand. He knew that voice, and the sound of fear in it made his skin go cold despite the sun pounding on his back.
Digging his heels in his jebel’s furry flank, he spurred it to run faster, and the animal let out a loud bray in complaint.
“You can go faster, you lazy beast,” Tommel muttered, as he bent over the jebel’s neck. “I know you can.”
He couldn’t tell how far away Bexli was, but her voice made him adjust his course slightly. He spotted the top of the rocks in the distance, and seeing them confirmed what he’d thought. Bexli was heading for the ship, and, like them, she thought the ship would be near the Crestek city.
Her panicked cry disappeared, but that only made him urge his animal faster, his heels striking the jebel’s sides and the wide hooves kicking up showers of sand behind them. It no longer brayed as it ran, its long neck stretching out and pulling back with each stride.
Tommel’s heart hammered in his chest, the sound so loud in his ears that it overpowered the slapping of the jebel’s hooves and the cawing of the birds drifting overhead. Seeing them reminded him that he was near the rocks, since the birds only nested high in the cliffs. It was rare to see them on the sands, and he suspected something disturbed their roosting. Something like a massive spaceship flying overhead and landing on the other side.
