She peeled off her fitted, long-sleeve shirt first. It was a goner—stiff with the creature’s blood, reeking of that awful stench, and irritating her skin where it made direct contact. She had a second top underneath. It was short-sleeved and not as warm, but that was okay, because the lightweight thermal jacket in her pack retained more heat than jackets twice its size. Rolling the destroyed shirt into a ball, she tossed it back on top of the carcass, where it would disintegrate as the carcass rotted. The dead animal must have a name or designator. It was too vicious a predator to have gone unnoticed. She’d have to find out what it was, so she could enter it in her notes. One didn’t survive a fight like that and not make note of it.
Before pulling on the jacket, she took what was left of the water she’d been sipping during the day and poured it over her hands and arms. The blood was having a toxic effect on her skin, turning it red and itchy. Rachel hoped it was no more than that, but even a topical irritation could become serious. She followed the water with a couple of cleansing wipes and donned her jacket. The night was cold, and she still hadn’t managed to eat anything.
She needed food and a fire. She needed to get moving.
She bent to pick up her backpack, swinging it up, sliding her arms into the straps and settling it on her shoulders. A sudden flash of movement in the trees made her jerk in dismay. Another one of the creatures? A mate perhaps? But, no. Rational thought defeated panic, and she remembered the stink of the dead animal when it attacked, the rustling sound it made as it slid from branch to branch through the trees.
This was different. More graceful somehow, sliding through the trees like liquid…gold. Golden fur. She searched the surrounding trees, convinced her cat was back. It had moved like that, graceful and deadly. But though she searched until her eyes burned, she didn’t find him. Sighing, she settled her pack more firmly and buckled the straps, then turned her back on the dead creature and took a step…
“You can eat that, you know.”
Rachel stifled a shriek of surprise and stared at the man standing just a few feet away, blocking her escape.
“They smell bad, but they taste good.” He took a step closer. “Good job taking him down, by the way. Pongos are a nasty lot. You must be stronger than you look.”
Scowling inwardly at the backhanded compliment, she raised her light and flashed it in his direction, starting low as a warning, but quickly moving it up his very large body to his face. His lids closed down to almost nothing, before gradually opening to reveal gold-flecked eyes that gleamed too brightly in the glow of her light. Rachel blinked. He appeared human, but that retinal reaction wasn’t quite normal. And his clothes—a lightweight tunic over similarly lightweight, loose-fitting pants and soft boots—definitely weren’t fleet or any other Earth origin.
She was looking at a native of Harp, a descendent of those long-ago colonists. Simple courtesy demanded she drop her light, but she couldn’t stop staring. He was good-looking, though she couldn’t see many details. His hair was light, probably blond, and hung past his shoulders, which were broad and thick with muscle that even the loose tunic couldn’t disguise. He was also very tall, easily over six feet, which spoke to the genetic traits of the original colonists, but also to their survival. They hadn’t simply survived, they’d clearly thrived.
She tilted her head, frowning.
“I know you,” she said, puzzled as to how that could be.
“Not likely, sweetheart.”
She did a double take at the familiar endearment. She’d known that Harp natives spoke the trade common language, but she’d somehow expected something…different. He was right, however. There was no way she could know…
Her eyes went wide as knowledge tightened her chest. “You were at the ship,” she whispered. “You killed them all.”
…
“We delivered justice,” Aidan corrected. He was grateful to Rachel for what she’d done in getting him off that ship, but he would not apologize for defending his people and his planet.
She shook her head. “You used those cats. They could have been killed, and you—”
He made a scoffing noise. “Those cats are more dangerous than any human, lass. Believe me. They were never at risk.”
“But why risk them at all?”
“Because it was a cat those bastards tried to capture. Justice was theirs.”
She shook her head. “There are laws against what that ship’s crew did, and the fleet is responsible for Harp. They should have been turned over to—”
He interrupted her with a bark of laughter. “Harpers are responsible for Harp. Your fleet has no authority here. That ship was on our planet, killing and imprisoning our animals, and destroying our forests. It was our right to determine punishment, our laws, not your beloved fleet’s. For all we know, the damn fleet was the one buying the cat they captured.”
She had the grace to look uncomfortable at that. If she had any knowledge of United Earth Fleet at all, she had to know that it was a strong possibility they’d financed the hunt. She finally met his eyes, seeming more sad than angry. “But…did they have to die? I don’t question your jurisdiction,” she hurried to add, “and what they did, what they planned to do, was monstrous and unforgiveable, but—”
“There’s no ‘but,’” he said with a gentleness he wasn’t feeling. He wanted to shout at her, to tell her that he was the cat they’d kidnapped, that they’d known what he was and had still intended to cage him, to force-breed him for their experiments. But he bit back the words, not willing to trust her with that much truth. “We have families living in the Green,” he said instead. “Our children play here. Do you think your friends worried about them? Do you know easily someone could have been hurt with all that wild gunfire?”
She paled. “Please tell me no one was killed,” she whispered.
“No people,” he clarified. “But the Green is filled with living things, all of which are necessary to this ecosystem which, in turn, supports our continued survival. Though I doubt your friends knew or cared about that when they began their destructive campaign.”
She sighed deeply, then seemed to gather her courage. “So if there was someone on Harp who’d helped the ship evade detection, and who’d known what they were going to do, you’d—”
Aidan went predator still. Fighting back a growl, he asked, “We have a traitor? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No,” she insisted, biting her lip in obvious distress. “Well…” She stared at him in indecision, then sighed and said, “Yes. I think so. That’s what I’m trying to find out. But if there was somebody…I mean, you must have laws. He’d go on trial. Your president—”
“Ardrigh.”
“Right, your Ardrigh,” she repeated, carefully pronouncing the unfamiliar word. Ard-ree.
“There are laws,” he agreed, then gave her a smug smile. “But you’re in clan territory now. The Ardrigh has no authority here.”
“Clan territory? What does that mean?”
“It means the best fighters and fiercest hunters on the planet all hail from the mountain clans, and the Ardrigh is smart enough to reward our loyalty by not interfering in our affairs. It means anyone invading clan territory with an eye toward harming the forests or anyone living there, human or otherwise, will be judged by the clans, not the city.”
She stared at him unhappily. “The person responsible is more dangerous than you know. If I’m right, he’s risked everything for this. He won’t hesitate to kill you, and he won’t care how much damage he does to Harp.”
“Let us worry about that. Where is he?”
Her expression shut down. “I’ll tell you. But I’m going with you.”
Aidan pushed away from the tree to stare at her. “I don’t think so. Time is of the essence, and you’ll slow me down.”
She actually appeared to be offended at that. “Well, then, I guess you’ll be figuring out who he is on your own.” She turned away and hefted that big pack onto her back. “N
ice meeting you. Not that I did.”
She would have left then, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked from his hand to his face, giving him a challenging stare, as if ready to take him on for daring to touch her. He was amused at the prospect. No question she was tough and capable. She’d taken on a pongo and survived. Sure, the animal had been a young female, but it was still impressive. But he was no mindless pongo, for fuck’s sake. He was a shifter. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Of course, she didn’t know that. Hell, even if he’d been nothing but an ordinary human male, he still outweighed her by a good hundred pounds of mostly muscle.
“You can’t stay out here alone,” he said.
…
Rachel gave the hand on her arm a cool look. He’d said that last as if the subject were closed. As if he’d decided, and she would obey.
Not likely. Her back stiffened, and she looked up to meet his assessing gaze. “I’ll be fine,” she informed him. “I have maps, I’m armed, and I have years of experience in the wild.”
“Not Harp’s wild, you don’t. You won’t last a day.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said dryly, “but I’ve survived worse.” She gave the dead animal a meaningful glance, and when he opened his mouth to argue some more, she cut him off.
“Look, the man who hired me for this mission, your traitor, has put more than his reputation on the line. He’s put mine right there beside him. Not to mention my fucking life. He owes me some answers. Hell, he owes this planet more than that. I’m going to find him and demand an explanation, no matter what it takes.”
“You’re sure he’s on Harp,” the blond said, his tone calculating.
“Yes, probably in your city,” she said, deliberately not mentioning the second landing site. She didn’t want this guy and his people looking for that ship. It wouldn’t be as simple this time. Not even the most vicious pack of giant cats would be enough. Her crew had been wounded and unprepared. If Wolfrum somehow found out the first ship had been discovered and its crew destroyed… If, for example, this hunter’s clan had sent word to the Ardrigh about it… Clearly Wolfrum had connections enough to get the two ships on-planet in the first place. What if he had a spy in the Ardrigh’s circle? If the second ship was armed as heavily as hers had been, they could wipe out an army of local clansmen in a matter of minutes. They wouldn’t give a damn how much damage their weapons did to the Green or to Harp. Their only concern would be escape.
Rachel would have liked a companion for the journey. Particularly this one. It wasn’t his looks, or not simply his looks, though they were fine enough. But there was something different about him that intrigued her, something more than a little bit wild that called to the adventurous part of her soul. The way his eyes glinted gold in the firelight as they studied her, following her smallest move just as a predator would. The confidence in his big, muscled body, the grace in his every move. It made no sense, and yet, more than anything, he reminded her of the big cat who’d so captivated her that she’d been willing to risk everything to set him free.
Unfortunately, he also refused to see reason, despite the evidence of her abilities now stinking up the small clearing. But her mind was made up. Her ship and crew were gone, which left her only one option if she wanted the truth—find Wolfrum and demand answers, or failing that, contact the local fleet authorities. They couldn’t all be corrupt. “I have maps. I’ll be fine,” she said again.
He eyed her unhappily, clearly trying to decide what to do with her, not seeming to understand that she didn’t need him to do anything. She’d take care of herself, thank you very much. She was worried about the cat, though. “The cat they captured was tranquilized heavily,” she said. “There might be some lingering effects, and I don’t want him to get hurt because he can’t defend himself or move about properly.”
“The cat’s fine, lass. Fully recovered and then some. He led the pack that tore that ship apart.”
“I wondered. I’m glad he’s recovered.” She swung the backpack around and slipped her other arm into the strap. “Well, I imagine the scavengers will be homing in on this carcass soon,” she said, reminding him about the dead creature, which shouldn’t have needed any reminder. With Harp’s jungle-like climate, the stench was quickly attaining unbelievable heights. “So I’m going to get going.”
…
Aidan had no intention of letting her walk away, but he liked her spirit. “Fine, then. You lead, I’ll follow. But I need to know where we’re going, and what guidance you’re using to get us there. This is the Green. There are no maps that give the whole truth about its dangers.”
She regarded him for a long moment, as if deciding whether he could be trusted, then shrugged—not as if she’d decided, but as if she had no other choice. It was vaguely insulting and made him wonder if she could be trusted. What was on her precious map that she didn’t want him to see? It had to be more than directions to the city, because he didn’t need a fucking map to find that. Even she must understand that much. And he sure as hell didn’t need some Earther woman judging his honor when he’d spent most of his life—”
“All right,” she said, interrupting his private soliloquy. “I’ll show you what I have, but I suspect you’re right about its usefulness. It doesn’t have enough detail to provide an accurate topography.”
“An accurate topography,” he repeated, grinning. “We’re going to work great together. I can tell.” He laughed at the squinty-eyed glare she gave him.
“Can we at least move away from that first? Unless you’d like to eat it for dinner?” she added sweetly.
He winked. “No thanks. And you’re right. The scavengers are already gathering.” He could hear them in the treetops and underbrush, circling. He didn’t tell her that it was only his presence keeping them at bay. “We should head out that way,” he gestured. “I’ll take the lead. If it’s all right with you, that is.”
She rolled her eyes but turned to follow him. “I don’t think we’re going to work that well together at all,” she muttered, no doubt thinking he couldn’t hear. But he did and it made him grin. Because he had a feeling they were going to get along very well, indeed.
…
Rachel followed him through the nighttime forest, impressed by the ease with which he maneuvered between trees and around obstacles as if he could see in the dark. She had her little flashlight, which she’d offered to him. His words had been polite enough, though his expression had been more amusement than gratitude.
“You keep it. I’m accustomed to the dark,” he said, then turned and kept going.
Rachel swallowed her sigh. She was tired, though she’d never admit it to— She frowned. What was his name? “I’m Rachel, by the way,” she said, aiming for a friendly tone.
“Aidan.”
That’s all he said. Just his name. He might be one hell of a good-looking man and move like a giant jungle creature, but he wasn’t a great conversationalist.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked.
She was so surprised by his question that she stumbled. “Sure,” she said, glad that his back was to her so he couldn’t see.
He stopped and turned. “You okay?”
So much for him not seeing her tripping on her own feet. “Yeah, there’s just a lot of—”
“The ground’s especially uneven around here,” he offered unexpectedly. No joke at her expense, not even another smug look of amusement. “And the dark doesn’t help, I know. We’ll travel mostly in daylight after this. But I wanted to get away from the carcass before the scavengers became impatient.” He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “Why’d you help the cat?”
Rachel blinked at the abrupt change of topic, and then asked in surprise, “How do you know I—?”
“The cats are important to us. We keep track. So, why help him?”
She looked up at him, meeting eyes that definitely weren’t human norm. The pupil appeared to have changed shape as they’d mo
ved farther into the darkness under the trees, adapting to the absence of light. It was certainly a possible evolution on a planet with minimal technology. And it would explain the ease with which he traversed the cluttered ground of the Green.
“I didn’t come here to capture a trophy animal for some collector back on Earth, or to give the fleet something new to torment. I mean, yes,” she amended at his doubtful look, “I was on that ship, but their mission was never mine. I was told this was for research. That we had the Ardrigh’s permission to study, not capture, the cats. I’m a scientist, not a murderer.” She looked away, then continued more subdued. “When I saw what they did, what they meant to do…” She shrugged. “I didn’t sign up for that. There was no question in my mind that I had to get him out of there.”
“And we’re grateful you did. Like I said, the cats are important to us.”
“And you’re sure my cat’s okay?”
He grinned crookedly. “Your cat?”
Rachel blushed, hoping his night vision wasn’t good enough to see. “I was worried about him when he didn’t come back. And then I saw the attack…”
“How did you see the attack?” he asked, as if it had just occurred to him. “There was no one around; I’d have known.”
“There must be limits to what even you can do,” she said, teasing him dryly. “I was roughly three-hundred yards away in a tree, using binoculars, obviously.”
“Obviously. You climbed a tree?” he asked, his tone skeptical, as if that was the most unbelievable part of her explanation.
She gave him a flat look. “Yes, Aidan, I climbed a tree.”
His teeth flashed in another grin, which was somehow just as charming as it was irritating.
“Your cat’s fine,” he said. “All the cats are fine. There were some minor injuries in the raid, but they heal quickly.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek, shocking her into stillness. His hand was more than warm. It was like a brand against her skin, reminding her of something she couldn’t quite place. The scientist in her registered the heat and what it might mean for his metabolism—for healing and longevity. But the woman…she caught herself rubbing her cheek against the calloused palm. She looked up and met the odd glow of his eyes. Without thinking, she took a half step closer as Aidan tipped his head down and—
Shifter Planet: The Return Page 11
