Wyst

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  Or it might have been the memory of the tongue-lashing from his commander about keeping the pixie calm and hopeful until the Escalade was functional. Bronsyn taking him to task about his behavior, he admitted, was what stung the most.

  Not to mention his brother-warrior’s comments, overheard in the background of the call. The ones thoroughly berating him for stopping the journey in order to exchange sex for money.

  Gyed’s veil!

  It wasn’t any of their business, nor should it be. Even on Galaxia and Nutrol, sex-sharing was a private matter, talked of only between the partners involved. So for the pixie to disclose what happened was not right. Not right on any level!

  He tried stretching out his long legs but hit the short length of the floorboard six inches too soon. Sighing, he turned again, tucking his cold fingers into his armpits for warmth. How long until the sun rose?

  Arbrynt advised it would be smarter to do another surveillance when the sun was up even though Wyst provided him a number of pictures of both the engine compartment as well as what was hidden beneath the emergency tire in the back. The space Arbrynt admitted housed all the special enhancements he’d enacted to make driving in America possible for them.

  The other warrior wouldn’t be sleeping either as he poured over the images, trying to determine the cause of the SUV’s inability to start and especially the nonfunctioning GPS system. Wyst took comfort from that, in knowing the one Pam called Brent wouldn’t rest either until all issues were resolved and the mission was back on course .

  “Trouble sleeping?” The pixie’s voice was drowsy-rough and Wyst felt a pang of guilt in awakening her, only adding to the long list of what he felt bad about when it came to the human female.

  So much so, his mouth moved without his consent. “I’m sorry, Pam-ah-lah.”

  A soft snicker echoed in the cold, quiet of the car’s interior. Probably because of his use of her full first name. “I’ll be damned.”

  “What? Why?”

  “’Cause I never thought you’d apologize, that’s why.” Was it his imagination or did her sweet tone offer forgiveness for what he’d subjected her to in his need to be with, then run from, the Arleen? Along the their journey, the pixie had somehow learned to shield her thoughts to the point even when he pressed, they remained locked away from him.

  He didn’t know how to answer her or what to say in light of their current circumstance without knowing what she was thinking. Bringing the bottle of water to his lips, he took a sip and changed the subject. “We ate all of the snacks and this is the last of our water.”

  Her resigned sigh summed up their situation perfectly. “I know. I was going to buy more but I got a little distracted. Can I ask what happened? You know, back at the truck stop?”

  He turned back until he was facing her, only able to see her shimmering eyes in the reflected moonlight of the cab. “I could not perform with her.”

  His shameful words hung in the air, permeating the space and adding to his embarrassment of his body’s lack of response when alone with the Arleen.

  “Why not? You wanted her and she seemed to want…”

  “My currency,” he harshly interrupted. “All she wanted was the money I carried and seemed to know the fifty you gave me to pay her was only a small portion of the…what did you call it? The wad we hold.” He made sure he didn’t disclose exactly how his body reacted while within the close confines of the Arleen’s vehicle. At how unacceptable he’d found the woman as a pleasure-worker.

  “Yeah, some girls are like that.” The creak of leather punctuated her reply as she shifted beneath his jacket. “Always looking for the short line at the DMV.”

  He pondered what Pam said, word for word, but still didn’t understand what the pixie meant. “Explain.”

  Stretching first, the blonde female went up onto an elbow before she continued. “Do you have greed where you come from?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yeah, well. We humans have it too. In spades.” Laying back down, he saw she used a bent arm as a pillow to support her head, before she pulled the collar of his jacket back up onto her shoulder. “For whatever reason, we’re so greedy we even look for the shortest line in order to get our business done. She was looking to score big with you, but not willing to put forth the full effort.”

  His mind supplied the memory of the odorous Arleen holding the small gun on him, stridently demanding all of his money. And at the mental picture, he reached behind to touch the small weapon he’d taken from her still in place at the small of his back, stowed in the waistband of his jeans. Another memory crowded forward, helping him to understand what Pam meant. “And she agreed to share what she took from me with her friend.”

  Pam’s feminine snort signaled her agreement even before she spoke. “Yeah. That trashy blonde wanted a piece of our stash too, but didn’t want to do anything to get it.”

  “The shortest queue.”

  There was a definite smile in Pam’s reply. “Yeah, babe. The shortest line.”

  During her explanation, Wyst found his eyelids getting heavy. “Thank you, pixie.”

  “For what?” came her sleepy question.

  But he didn’t think she heard his reply since it took him a long time to find the right words in her language. Long enough for her to slide back to sleep. “For just being you.”

  *.*.*.*.*

  I awoke with a start and went from cramped to cranky in exactly zero point two five seconds. Raising my head, blinking in the sunlight spilling in the windows of the Escalade, I found myself alone. And needing to pee in the worst way.

  Flipping from my side to my back, I used the buttons on the lower edge of the seat into a more upright position, glaring at the trees and bushes hugging the SUV on either side. Guess my bathroom was again gonna be the great outdoors armed with only a purse-sized pack of tissues. As my eyes surveyed my surroundings, I spied Wyst bending over the engine again. Well, not all of him. Just his too-perfect ass and long, long legs since he was shoulder-deep underneath the hood.

  I heard the deep sounds of his voice even though I couldn’t make out his words. My only hope was he was talking to Arbrynt in order to figure out what was wrong with our vehicle, getting instructions on how to get it back on the road so we could get the freak out of nature and back into some measure of civilization.

  Opening the door, I slid off the seat only into a bough that seemed determined to keep me confined. Batting it away didn’t help, so I bent down and away from it, putting even more pressure on my overly-full bladder.

  Christ but I hated the whole camping-out, outdoorsy kind of shit.

  Since my goal was to simply seclude myself behind a mass of bushes, I made haste to accomplish it, unbuttoning my jeans as I duck-walked, half-ran to the nearest thicket only half-listening to Wyst yelling in Picari so loud it echoed.

  Planting my feet and shucking my jeans down, I found nirvana. That was until I realized I’d forgotten my tissues. Eyeing the leaves around me, Wyst suddenly switched to English. “What do you mean?”

  Suddenly, every cell in my being went on high alert as he continued. “Are you sure there is nothing closer?” Plucking a couple of leaves off the nearest bush, I eyed them warily. Being an urbanite, I didn’t know plants. In fact, for all I knew, I was considering wiping my most sensitive girly bits with poison ivy.

  That would not be a good thing.

  “Fifteen miles?” Wyst sounded frustrated and as I weighed the option of doing a drip-dry to incurring the rash-from-hell on my whats-it, I prayed his question didn’t include me in the equation.

  Although now I’d taken care of my bladder, my stomach began to complain about its emptiness.

  Maybe fifteen miles wasn’t as far as it sounded.

  Doing up my jeans, I used a boot heel to scrape at the leaves lining the forest floor hoping like hell it covered the smell of the puddle I’d created. Carefully stepping away and around, I maneuvered my way back to the car, almost invisible amidst
the branches of the trees dripping over it.

  Wyst was just shoving his tresl in his back pocket as he dropped the hood back into place with a bang so loud, even the birds took flight. Even so, he jumped when I spoke.

  “What’s going on?”

  Watching me climbing out of the bank of bushes with wide, uncertain eyes, Wyst took a moment to run a hand over his long, unbound hair. Normally I wasn’t attracted to guys who wore their locks longer than mine, but there was no denying the look suited him. Especially when he twisted the multi-colored brown, heavy strands up and away from his face, tucking them into a man-bun.

  Just like he did at that particular moment in a move I thought gave him time to think about how to deliver whatever bad news he had concerning our situation. And since I had a firm grip on my own thoughts, I couldn’t invade his either.

  “Arbrynt says we need some parts in order to get our vehicle running.”

  Okay. So. The Escalade was broken.

  When Wyst didn’t continue, I lifted a hand, rolling it towards me to coax out the rest of his words. I couldn’t decide if the frown I felt between my eyebrows was due to his explanation or the bright sunlight filtering through the trees.

  “The nearest automotive store is in the town closest to us.”

  Stopping dead in my tracks, I propped a fisted hand on either hip. “And?”

  Tellingly, he shot a sideways glance to the forest before his eyes came back to me. “And it is fifteen miles northeast of where we are now.”

  Shit. I was right. He wanted me to walk fifteen miles in my beautiful, girl-type motorcycle boots, wearing the clothes I’d slept in (and I’d never worn the same panties two-days in a row) and don’t get me started about my severe and very-real caffeine withdrawal. I was so hungry I’d even devour a plate of liver and onions if offered. For the record, I hate liver and onions. So much so whenever Grams served it, I gave dinner a miss. Although I did sneak down to the kitchen after midnight to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on those nights.

  A girl had to eat after all.

  “How long will that take?” I had priorities and never let it be said it was me who held up the mission to get to Rykhan and Leah. As I stepped forward, closer to where he leaned on the driver’s-side door, I saw him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in effort.

  “Approximately four hours and forty-five of your Earth’s minutes.”

  Jaysus. Seriously?

  “That is if we can keep to a pace of 3 miles per hour.” The dude was just full of good news this morning.

  “What time is it now?” I only asked because I hadn’t checked my cell in my rush to go potty in the forest, but the sun seemed to be pretty high in the sky and my stomach was demanding food at the soonest.

  “Just after seven, Colorado time.”

  I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes. He couldn’t seriously expect me to freaking walk for almost five hours with my belly hella screaming for eats!

  “If it helps, I am hungry as well.”

  “Get outta my head, alien!”

  He had the grace to look sheepish, but the words accompanying his expression only added to the shit-storm of feelings whirling inside me. “I am not reading your thoughts, but hearing the noises your mid-section is emitting.”

  “Yeah? Well, stop listening!” As snappy rejoinders went, even I had to admit mine was pretty weak. By then I was again back at the truck and, shoving him aside, I opened the driver-side door and reached for my purse. I went to the back and pointed at the trunk. “Open it so I can get some stuff.”

  As soon as it was open, I opened my suitcase and grabbed a fistful of clothes. “Since I can’t see us lugging all this shit with us, we’re gonna have to share yours.” Taking my cue, Wyst grabbed his duffle bag and opened it, dumping some of his stuff out to make room for mine, although even then I was only able to fit in two handfuls of my clothes.

  After slamming the doors, I heard him beep the locks as I looped the leather strap over my neck, wearing it cross-body style. Deliberately turning away from him, I looked again at the thick growth of trees and bushes surrounding us.

  “Which way, stud?”

  “I do not think your attitude is appropriate for the moment.”

  Without missing a beat, I raised a finger, the middle one in reply without bothering to turn around as I delivered it. “Which way?”

  “Up.”

  Seriously? Was I supposed to damn-well levitate in order to escape back to civilization?

  “We need to go up that hill for fifty meters and there will be a road.”

  Fifty meters was, what? Fifty-five yards which meant something along the lines of one-hundred, sixty-something feet. And as my eyes viewed his hand, fore-finger pointing to the ‘that hill’ part of his speech, I saw his proposed trajectory went straight up. As in way up. Crowded by trees, bushes and on a slope covered in damp leaves.

  Oh yeah. No problem in getting up the hill in order to find his mysterious ‘road’.

  Not!

  “Forget it, cowboy.” I spoke without thinking, but truthfully. Eyeing the canted, what I knew was slippery ground again, I shook my head. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting me to climb that even if you had two guys, a rope and a freaking winch.”

  *.*.*.*.*

  Bronsyn was exhausted, but there was still so much to do. After receiving the call from Wyst regarding his transport’s failure to function (and the events leading up to it which still weighed heavily on the leader’s mind), which had come within only a couple of hours of his conversation with Stege, he’d assembled his warriors. What he was considering would affect them all. Therefore, they should each be given the opportunity to offer their own ideas as well as their opinions.

  Gathering them all around the large eating table, Bronsyn waited until all were settled before he began. “We have several items to discuss, not the least of which is how we are to move forward regarding our quest.”

  “Some fracking quest if we’re no longer on mate search but to be used as bait instead,” Gyard rumbled with a scowl. “And you say President Allwyne and Leader Smyrta had no clue regarding the change in our mission?”

  “That is what they said when I spoke with them,” Bronsyn answered with a nod. “I thought the new information would rouse them enough to help stop the quest Committee’s plans, but all they would commit to was to talk it over with their councils.”

  “Fracking politicians,” Arbrynt muttered, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. “It is a wonder they can relieve themselves without their cronies holding their tailpors for them.”

  Even the quiet Laxon chuckled at that one.

  After they males quieted, Bronsyn offered up his first plan. “I want to contact them again, only this time I want both Allwyne and Smyrta, along with Stege on one call—all at the same time. Since Stege seems to be playing both sides against the middle, I would very much like to watch him try and deny his treachery to our leaders faces.”

  Tyshar looked at his hands that were splayed on the tabletop. “And you think by calling the supreme quest leader out in front of those who appointed him to his position will do what, exactly?”

  “Expose him and his plans for our worlds to remain a male-centric society. In light of all the credits spent to finance our mission to find mates, I need to convince our governments he is making decisions outside the limits of authority they awarded him.” Bronsyn’s voice shook with fervency. He never believed he could feel so strongly about removing a current leader in a position of authority, but Stege’s way of thinking and his plans for the future were just too horrific to remain silent. “I want them to see for themselves the kind of leader Stege has become.”

  “You’re talking about how Stege lied about his plans?” Gyard asked, his head tilting in confusion. Bronsyn knew the warrior avoided politics and the mechanizations of those in power like the plague. As Gyard often said, ‘put them all in a room and have them battle for their lofty ideals a
nd power as a warrior must.’

  “How else could the Committee received funding? No leader in their right mind would’ve agreed if he’d initially suggested a mission bent on harvesting a human female’s life-force. He had to lie in order to get what he wanted.” Tyshar’s explanation made sense. “But the fact that the Searcher has one entire level dedicated to Medical should’ve been the first indication the expedition proposed was not truthfully presented.”

  “I agree.” Bronsyn saw the other warriors nods at his words.

  “Will you need my help in contacting Leader Smyrta as before?” Laxon’s soft question showed the young male was on board with Bronsyn’s plan. “Because I should tell you I received a communiqué from my cousin asking what is going on with our mission. He has seen not only the proposed request for the rysling order, but also a request to understand the finer nuances of what constitutes treason outside of the Picari system. More specifically for a member of the Protectorate while on an approved mission.”

  Everything within Bronsyn stilled as he absorbed this new intel even as a flare of rage at Stege’s unmitigated gall in trying to charge any one of his group with such crime. Especially when Rykhan was left with no choice but to leave in order to protect his mate and youngling.

  “In the words of Rykhan’s beautiful mate, this is bullshit.” Arbrynt had the right of it in Bronsyn’s opinion.

  “Does anyone know when the Seeker is set to launch?” Leave it to Tyshar to change the subject and alleviate the tension around the table by redirecting their thoughts.

  “Tomorrow or the next day from what I heard,” Arbrynt offered. “And their proposed journey will only take them half as long to arrive due to the new way they’re using limnet. But there are more than double the amount of warriors on this second quest.”

  “Let me get this straight…” Gyard started. “Stege and his fracking Committee got both approval and funding for a second, larger mate search group? All without explaining the true parameters of the mission? Tsiran save us all.”