She took a step back in obvious fear, her arm extending in front of her. “I wanted to return these to you.”
Rykaur’s gaze touched on the small leather bag dangling from her fingers before settling on her pale gray eyes. “What sort of thief returns what they have taken?”
“I’m not a thief,” she softly responded, moving deeper into his tent. “And my name isn’t Allie, it’s Mary.”
Rykaur watched in suspicion as she placed the stones on the shelf next to his cot and then turned to face him. That was when he noticed the bruise on her cheek and a split at the corner of her full lips. “Who beat you?”
Something flickered in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
Unsure of why he felt compelled to know, Rykaur persisted. “Ted tells me that you have a man who sells you to the Marines. A man named Pimp. Did he do that to your face?”
Mary shook her head. “There is no man named Pimp. A pimp is an owner of sorts. I have no owner.”
Rykaur let that sink in. “If there is no pimp, then who did that to your face?”
“You did.”
Rykaur’s stomach dropped, his mind rebelling against her words. “I did this to you?”
She gave a sharp nod and looked away.
“I do not know what to say. In all my twenty-nine years, I have never harmed a female before.”
He reached up and gently cupped her chin, turning her face to the side. Her left cheek had a bruise from the cheekbone to the split at the corner of her mouth.
Unable to wrap his mind around what he’d done, Rykaur swallowed back the nausea rising in his throat. “I am sorry, Allie. Please allow me to tend your injuries.”
“Mary. My name is Mary.”
She’d told him that already. “My apologies, Mary.” He gestured toward the cot. “Come. Sit.”
Once she was seated, Rykaur grabbed the first-aid kit on top of the shelf next to his cot and set it next to her.
It pained him more than anything to see the extent of her injuries. He’d done that to her. He’d harmed a female.
Shame washed through him on a tide of emotion that momentarily choked him.
Rykaur cleared his throat and opened the first-aid kit. “I am going to apply some medicine to your lip that will hopefully alleviate some of your pain along with the swelling.”
“It’s really not necessary,” Mary whispered, her eyes downcast. “After all, I did steal from you.”
Shocked that she would say such a thing, Rykaur dipped his finger beneath her chin and lifted, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You think that makes what I did all right?”
She shrugged, drawing Rykaur’s attention to the soft, pale skin of her collarbone. The top she wore had thin straps that laced up over her shoulders, leaving them bared to his gaze.
He quickly looked away, more shame washing through him that he’d been ogling her while she sat before him injured. Injuries that he was responsible for.
Rykaur slid his fingers up her face to gently probe the bruised area around her cheekbone.
She winced, jerking back from his touch.
“There is a possibility you have a fracture. I will take you to our healer. Stay here while I retrieve an ATV for the trip.”
“Really,” Mary interjected when he moved toward the tent flap. “None of this is necessary. I only came here to return what I had taken, not looking for pity.”
Rykaur ignored her and jerked back the tent flap. He stopped before stepping outside, keeping his back to her. “You may keep the stones, Mary. I have plenty more.”
“Thank you,” she softly murmured. “Do you have a name?”
With a nod, he glanced over his shoulder. “Rykaur.”
“I’ll go with you to your healer, Rykaur. But I need to grab some things first. I won’t be gone but thirty minutes.”
Rykaur studied her expression for signs of deceit but found none. “I can take you where you need to go. You have only to wait a moment.”
“I’d rather walk,” Mary refuted, rising to her feet. “It helps me to think.”
“You do not live far from here?”
Mary shook her head. “I really appreciate you taking me to your healer. But unless it’s a broken limb or something that needs stitching, neither a healer nor a doctor will be much good.”
Something in her voice triggered an alarm in his brain. “You have had broken bones before?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she eluded, snatching up the bag of stones and striding forward to push past him. “I’ll be back soon.”
Rykaur watched her go, curiosity warring with his self-loathing. There was more to the young, fiery-haired prostitute than he’d been told. Of that, he was certain.
She is not my concern, he silently told himself, marching off in the direction of the ATV’s. He’d given her the stones, and he would get Zaureth to heal the damage to her face. After that, he would put her far from his mind.
Chapter Four
Mary returned home in record time, anxiety over the safety of the children eating away at her insides. If Jefferies had harmed one hair on their heads… She couldn’t finish the thought.
Though the children didn’t technically belong to her, Mary felt a certain responsibility for them. They’d been placed in the same foster home as her.
Fear for their treatment had prompted Mary to keep them out of their foster parents’ way as much as possible.
Ralph and Georgina Clark had been fostering children for over twenty years. Cruel and unjust, the couple took in as many kids as the law would allow, in order to pocket the checks they’d receive from the state.
The Clarks were evil personified, forcing the children to work from sunup to sundown in exchange for one meal a day.
Mary had resorted to stealing food for the newcomers and sneaking it into their rooms at night after the Clarks went to bed.
Catching Mary with the food on more than one occasion, Ralph would force her to strip down to her underwear before beating her with a wire coat hanger.
He then locked her in a small closet for two days without food and water. As torturous as it became, the hunger paled in comparison to the inky-black darkness.
But being locked in the closet was nothing new to Mary. Her foster parents had been tormenting her with that particular punishment since her arrival there at ten years old.
Over time, Mary developed claustrophobia as well as nyctophobia, a medical term for fear of darkness.
Yet Mary would face that darkness every night to protect the others.
Little Liza had only been three months old when she’d arrived at the Clarks with her brothers and sisters.
Mary would spend hours rocking Liza at night to prevent her from crying and drawing the unwanted attention of Georgina Clark.
Ralph had begun showing signs of a fever two days before Georgina had fallen ill.
Realizing the Clarks had contracted the Incola virus, Mary had gathered the children and fled in the middle of the night. How they made it out without also contracting the virus remained a mystery.
The death of the Clarks had been a blessing to Mary. Though the children had made it out relatively unscathed, Mary hadn’t been so fortunate. She would carry the scars of her abuse for the rest of her life.
Fleeing on foot, Mary had walked throughout the night, finding refuge in an empty shack a few miles away, situated on the shores of the bay.
She and Hank worked tirelessly to feed the younger ones by scavenging what they could and fishing from the bay.
It wasn’t until Liza fell ill that Mary realized they needed a more suitable shelter with running water and warm, soft beds.
Mary found an empty house about a mile away, with blankets, towels, dishes, and running water. She’d immediately moved the children to the new residence, only to be found by Doug Jefferies.
After threatening the kid’s lives, Doug had forced Mary into prostitution, providing her with the drugs needed to render her johns unconscious and take whatever
money they had to aid in his attempt to build an army.
What Jefferies didn’t know, however, was that Mary had never sold her body, and she had no intentions of doing so.
Jefferies met her at the door. “You took long enough.”
“I was gone less than an hour. Where are the children?”
Nodding toward the back of the house, he gripped her arm as she moved to push past him. “The brats are fine. They’re playing in one of the rooms. Did you see the alien?”
“Yes,” Mary whispered. “He’s taking me to Aukrabah so his healer can look at my face.”
“Perfect.” Doug reached into his pants pocket and pulled a vial free, forcing it onto her hand. “This was not an easy thing to acquire. Once you arrive in Aukrabah, you will pour this into their drinking water the first chance you get.”
Mary had prayed on the walk home that Jefferies would change his mind about poisoning the Bracadytes. But her prayers had apparently been in vain. “Please don’t make me do this, Doug. There has to be another way.”
“There is no other way!” he snapped, painfully tightening his hold on her arm. “You’ll do this, or I can go in there right now and give it to your precious children.”
Her heart lurched. “No! I’ll do it. Just please don’t hurt the kids.”
A look of satisfaction settled on Doug’s disgusting face. “Smart girl. Now, go say your goodbyes and hurry back to the alien before he changes his mind.”
Yanking free of Doug’s hold, Mary tucked the vial of clear liquid into her skirt pocket and hurried off down the hall toward Hank’s room. She somehow knew that the oldest boy would have taken the others there.
“Hi,” she murmured, stepping into the room.
Seven-year-old Kelly and five-year-old Lance dropped their toys and rushed over to wrap their small arms around Mary’s legs.
Hank remained where he was, holding little Liza on his hip.
Mary dropped to her knees and hugged the children back. She spoke in a soft voice over their heads, her gaze glued to Hank’s. “I have to leave for a while.”
Fear flickered in Hank’s eyes, but he didn’t speak.
“I promise you that I will be back as soon as I can,” Mary continued, holding Hank’s gaze. “Nothing will happen to you while I’m gone.”
Hank shifted Liza to his other hip, his chin held high in defiance. “You’re leaving us here with that man?”
Mary swallowed hard, finding it difficult to speak. She rose to her feet and slowly moved toward the thirteen-year-old Hank.
In a voice low enough that Lance and Kelly couldn’t hear, Mary whispered. “If I don’t go, that man out there will hurt us all. Do you understand?”
Hank nodded. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know, but I need you to do something for me.”
He simply stood there, staring back at her with a brave determination shining in his eyes.
Mary leaned in close. “Take care of the others. Make sure they get enough to eat. If I’m not back within three days, I want you to take the children and run.”
Standing a little taller, Hank’s gaze flicked toward the door before shifting back to Mary. “Where will we go?”
“Do you remember how to get to that shack on the bay, where we used to stay before we found this place?”
“Yes,” Hank affirmed.
Relief poured through Mary. “There’s fresh water at the fish-cleaning station, and you know how to bait a hook.”
“I know what to do, Mary. If you’re not back in three days, I’ll take the kids out my bedroom window while Jefferies is asleep.”
He was just a kid himself, Mary thought as tears stung her eyes. A child, mature far beyond his thirteen years. A young boy forced to fill a man’s shoes.
Mary quickly pulled the bag of stones from her pocket, wrapped Hank in a hug, and stuffed it down his shirt. “I love you, Hank. And I’ll do everything in my power not to let you down.”
Pulling back, she noticed a suspicious moisture in his eyes as well. “What did you put down my shirt?”
“Something that you’ll need to survive if I don’t make it back. Hide them in a safe place.”
“Move your ass!” Jefferies suddenly barked from the doorway, scaring Liza into a fit of tears.
Mary spun on her heels and rushed from the room before Jefferies had a chance to come inside.
Hurrying across the hall to her own bedroom, Mary packed a few days’ worth of clothes without looking at Doug’s insufferable face. “If you lay one finger on any of those kids while I’m gone, I’ll kill you. No matter how long it takes or how far I have to go, I will hunt you down and I will kill you.”
“Such big talk from someone who’s on the losing end of the stick. Remember, sweetheart, I hold all the cards here. Now hurry up, time’s wasting.”
With one last glance toward the door to Hank’s room, Mary snatched up her bag and stormed past Jefferies.
Doug followed her down the hall, through the kitchen, and onto the back porch. “You have three days to take care of the Bracadytes. If you’re not back at the appointed time, the kids will suffer for it.”
“I heard you the first time!” Mary sneered. “You just remember what I said.”
Jefferies grinned. “You’ll try to kill me? I look forward to it, sweetheart. Now, run.”
Chapter Five
Rykaur waited next to his tent, debating on whether to go on without Mary. But he couldn’t seem to drive away.
He told himself it was guilt for hurting her that caused him to remain seated on the ATV. But somewhere deep inside, he knew that to be a half truth. He wanted to see her again.
The fact that she’d stolen from him paled in comparison to the thought of her selling her body.
Rykaur couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that she laid with human males for money.
Yet, he wanted to see her, still.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mary murmured, strolling up next to him.
He’d been so lost in thoughts of her carnal ways, he hadn’t noticed her approach.
“Climb on.” The words came out more clipped than he’d meant them to.
Mary strapped her bag onto the back of the ATV and climbed on behind him.
Her scent wrapped around him like a warm, sensual breeze, tightening his stomach into knots. “We will arrive in approximately forty-five minutes. Does it pain you much?”
Her arms came around his waist to add to the already unsettling of his gut.
“It hurts,” she softly replied, “but I’ve had worse.”
Every scenario he could imagine ran through his mind, but he didn’t question her about it. Partly because he figured she would lie to him, and partly because he was afraid to know.
Had she been beaten by a male? Was she mated, and if so, did her mate know of her prostitution? So many questions littered his brain, he couldn’t process them all.
Cranking the ATV, Rykaur turned toward the entrance to Aukrabah with his worst nightmare clinging to his back.
The drive into the belly of his home seemed to take forever. Mary’s closeness, her intoxicating scent, and her pale thighs pressing against the outside of his own nearly drove him mad with need.
He’d had an erection since the moment she’d climbed on the back of his ATV, and his sex throbbed still, almost thirty minutes later.
Her arm came around his shoulder. “What is that?”
Rykaur pulled the ATV over next to the wall and nodded toward the brightly lit entrance. “It is the new clinic. The lab is one door down.”
“You have electricity down here?”
The surprise in her voice told him one thing for certain: she didn’t watch the human television.
“Not in all of Aukrabah. Only the lab and the clinic.”
Abbie stepped into view. “Happy early birthday, Rykaur. How old will you be? In human terms,” she added before Rykaur could answer.
“I will be thirty years old
as of tomorrow.”
Abbie leaned to the side to see around him. “Who do you have with you?”
“This is Mary. I am taking her to see Zaureth.”
An indention appeared between Abbie’s eyes. “Is she sick?”
Rykaur shook his head. “She has an injury to her face. An injury I believe that Zaureth can heal.”
“Would you like for me to take a look at it?”
Rykaur sent Hauke’s mate a gentle smile. “Perhaps later, if Zaureth is unable to help her.”
Abbie took a step forward. “Are you sure? It’s really no trouble.”
“I am sure.”
“Okay then,” Abbie murmured, returning his smile. She turned and disappeared back inside the clinic.
* * * *
Pulling up next to the great hall, Rykaur shut down the ATV and threw his leg over the side. He couldn’t seem to get away from Mary fast enough.
“What is in the bag?” He nodded toward the bag she’d strapped to the back.
Mary shrugged. “Just some clothing and a toothbrush. I wasn’t sure how long I would be here.”
Rykaur unhooked the bag and threw the strap over his shoulder. “Follow me.”
Without waiting for her to dismount, he turned and strode off down the hall toward the catacombs.
Mary suddenly appeared at his side, walking fast to keep up with him. “Are you in a hurry, or do you normally run where you need to go?”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Rykaur. He slowed his steps. Barely.
Why was he reacting to her in such a negative manner? Other than felling him and taking his jewels, she was just another human female in his eyes. A female that he’d struck, he mentally corrected. And Rykaur would never harm a female. No matter what she did to deserve it.
Stopping outside the catacombs, he turned to face her. “Look. I am sorry that I struck you. I do not know what came over me. But you can rest assured it will not happen again. I would ask that you forgive me.”
Something flickered in her beautiful eyes. She glanced away. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“I do worry about it, Mary. I have never harmed a female before. Not even…”
Rykaur: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 8) Page 2
