She spat a wordless sound of disgust before turning back to her tiny fire, which she’d ignored and was threatening to go out. Aidan had said he’d be quick, and the last thing she wanted was for him to come back and find her obsessing about dead snakes, or worse, daydreaming about a certain golden cat. He seemed to find her obsession with the beast intensely amusing. But it was perfectly natural for her to be concerned about the animal’s continuing health. She was a doctor, after all. And he’d been her patient, albeit an unwilling one.
Besides, Aidan had said the cats were important on Harp, so she was, in some small way, making up for the sins of her shipmates. The thought made her frown because the most important thing she could do for the cats was to find that second ship and stop them before they could launch a second brutal attack on the Harp wildlife, the cats specifically. She felt slightly guilty keeping the existence of the second ship from Aidan thus far. At some point, she was going to have to tell him. How else would she explain her sudden desire to break off and travel away from the city she’d been so eager to reach?
She sighed.
“How’s that fire going, hunter?”
Rachel spun. Her first reaction was to wonder how the hell such a huge man moved so quietly. Her second was pleasure that he’d called her “hunter.” But then he dropped a gutted, skinned, and headless something next to her fire, and pleasure took a hike.
She studied the carcass and thought it was probably a banshee—those mammalian, monkey-like creatures which ran in packs on Harp—but then she saw the bands of green fur circling its wrists and ankles, along with the matching green skin. She leaned closer. Unusual coloring like that was frequently a function of diet. She thought it must be specific to the swamp, because in her admittedly limited experience with life-forms on Harp, she hadn’t seen green skin on any other mammals. She jerked back when the green seemed to be sliding off the fur and onto the feet, with the consistency of thick sludge. Curious but, given her recent beetle experience, also cautious, she reached into her pack for a small magnifier, leaned in for a closer look…and wished she hadn’t.
“Does everything here have something crawling on it?” she muttered. She hadn’t really expected Aidan to hear her, but of course, he did.
“Pretty much, lass. Life finds a way, right? Isn’t that what you scientists say?”
She glanced up from where she was once again leaning over and studying the creeping army of tiny, wriggling worms. “Does that hold true all over Harp?”
“No,” he admitted. “Just here in the swamp. Makes for interesting eats.”
She gave him a dry look. If he was trying to shock her delicate senses, he had the wrong woman. She’d eaten far less appetizing things than a few green worms. “Do we eat the worms?”
He actually appeared revolted by the idea, but then he grinned. “Hell, no. I just left them on there for you to see.”
“That’s so sweet,” she cooed. “What’s it called? I like to know what I’m eating.”
“A ceba. His pack swung overhead a ways back, before we stopped.”
Rachel nodded, remembering the silent creatures. “Do I need to set up a spit?”
Aidan gave her a surprised look. What? Did he think she brought a personal chef along when she trekked?
“No,” he said finally. “I’ll chop this bad boy into pieces, and we’ll roast him on skewers. They’re not that meaty, but it’s tender.” He picked up the creature and walked a little way off. After several whacks of his knife, he tossed several bits farther away and then returned with a pile of boneless lengths of meat layered neatly on a large green leaf.
Understanding what he had in mind, Rachel had already stripped the leaves off several skinny sticks. Taking the meat, she skewered it onto the sticks and placed them over the fire, bracing them with small stones.
Aidan had gone off to clean his hands and blade, using more of the same big leaves, but now he returned, settling next to her with their backs against a chunk of rock that had been sliced cleanly in half several millennia ago.
“Do I need to worry about something unpleasant crawling out from under this rock?” she asked, reaching out to turn the skewers.
He laughed. “Probably. But since there’s no place in this damn swamp where that’s not true, you might as well be comfortable.”
She smiled but didn’t say anything.
“You surprise me,” he said.
She glanced over. “How?”
“You’re tougher than I’d expected from an Earther.”
“Have you met a lot of Earthers?”
“A few. Mostly the few fleet personnel who rotate in and out, manning the science center. Though, after this little trick, I doubt Ardrigh Cristobal will permit even that much access to continue. We can handle the facility ourselves by now.”
“What are they like? The fleet types who run the center, I mean?” She was thinking that at least one of them had to have been in on Wolfrum’s scheme. If not actively participating, then at least looking the other way.
Aidan shrugged. “They’re rarely seen. They arrive by shuttle, march to the science center, and that’s it. They don’t mingle.”
“What a waste,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is that what you thought I’d do? I mean, how the hell did you think I was going to get back to the city without…mingling?”
“I figured I’d escort you gently to Clanhome and you’d wait there in comfort until the Guild or Cristobal sent a hover to fetch you.”
Rachel didn’t know whether to be insulted or amused, so she went with curiosity instead. “You have hovercraft here?”
“Two. They’re solar-powered, kept in the city, and used only in emergencies.”
She checked the meat, wanting it cooked through—take that, you fucking worms—but not dried into chunks of jerky. “So, if I’m not a dainty maiden waiting for rescue…what am I?” she asked, pulling the first skewers off and passing one to Aidan.
“Oh, now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
She laughed, then took a bite of the meat and chewed. “This isn’t bad,” she admitted. “It could use some salt, but I’ve had a lot worse.”
The silence was companionable as they sat on the rock and finished their lunch, such as it was. The absence of fresh produce was one thing Rachel had always despised about trekking. She always became a temporary vegetarian when she returned from a long trip, though not for long. She was a carnivore through and through.
Aidan rose to a crouch and started breaking down their fire pit, such as it was. “You finished eating?” he asked. When she nodded, he took the leftover meat, wrapped it in yet another giant leaf, and then double wrapped it, using a second leaf. “Okay if I put this in your pack?”
Rachel pulled her pack over and opened an outside pocket which had an insulated lining for just that sort of thing.
Aidan peered inside. “I’m beginning to think you really do have experience in the wild,” he said, tucking the meat away then zipping the pocket closed.
“I’m trying not to be insulted by that comment.”
“Try harder. It was a compliment.”
She scoffed. “Your compliments need work.”
He offered a hand to pull her to her feet and used too much strength. She crashed into his chest, and for a moment, their bodies were perfectly aligned, his hand holding hers behind her back, her other hand on his waist for balance. Rachel’s breath caught as her nipples hardened against his chest. Aidan’s arm tightened, and she looked up to meet his gold-flecked eyes, stunned by the wave of pure, unadulterated lust that hung in the air between them. She swallowed the knot in her throat, reminding herself that this wasn’t the time or place.
His eyes filled with the same knowledge. He gave her a lopsided grin that held a promise for the future and then released her to stand on her own.
“Will we make the bottom before nightfall?” she asked, securing her various bits of gear and weapons in their proper places. The last thing
one wanted was to be searching for the right knife in an emergency. Or to see the heat in his eyes right now.
Aidan shook himself from head to toe. It was such an animal thing to do that it caught her attention. He was so much a part of the Green, she thought. She wondered how much time he spent in the wild. Did he ever go home to stay? Or was he just a visitor there?
“We’ll make the swamp itself tomorrow afternoon if we’re lucky. For now, we’ll travel as far as we can before darkfall, then rest. Daylight gets shorter the deeper we go. By the time we hit bottom, we won’t see more than an hour of light in the middle of the day.”
“We’ll cross in the dark?” she asked, not happy about the prospect.
He nodded. “No choice.”
Rachel drew a deep breath and returned his nod. She’d faced worse and survived. She’d do it again. “Let’s go.”
…
They slept in the trees that night. Aidan told Rachel again that a watch wasn’t necessary, that he’d wake in time to catch any intruder. But that was no longer true. He had no intention of sleeping. The swamp was a strange fucking place. Even he didn’t know every creature that lived there, and he spent more time patrolling this sector of the Green than any other shifter, including his many cousins. The deeper they went, the weirder the life-forms. He had to fight the urge to shift; his cat was clawing to get out, his instincts recognizing the danger. There was no threat in the Green that he couldn’t fight better in his shifted form, but Rachel didn’t know about shifters, and it wasn’t up to Aidan to tell her. There was only one Earther who knew Harp’s biggest secret, and that was Amanda, Rhodry’s wife. She’d earned her place on Harp with blood, sweat, and plain damned courage. He’d told Rachel that she wasn’t what he’d expected of an Earther in this situation. What he hadn’t told her was that she reminded him of Amanda. No hysterics, no waiting for someone else to solve the latest crisis. Just a cool head and an even cooler hand with that crossbow. Nothing fazed her.
He grinned. Nothing except the sexual tension between them. He’d seen her look of panic when they’d had their moment earlier. If they’d been in the regular part of Green, their evening would have turned out very differently.
Movement rippled in the trees all around them, and he raised his head, listening. What he wouldn’t give for a big pack of noisy banshee right about now. Those damn cebas made for a tasty meal, but they were shit when it came to a decent warning system. He’d been catching whispers from the trees for hours now, even before they’d stopped for the night.
There was one other thing about the swamp that he hadn’t mentioned to Rachel, because it was something only shifters would understand, and that was the trees in the swamp—they were…sicker somehow, although that wasn’t the right word. The deeper one went into the rift, the less connected the trees were until, at the very bottom, there was no song at all. The Green was working steadily to “heal” this deformity, but progress was crushingly slow. Harp had existed for millennia before the colonists had crashed here, and the Green had yet to gather the swamp into its healthy fold.
For a shifter like Aidan, that sickness meant he couldn’t reliably count on the trees for information and warning. He could tell there was something wrong. Something big that these trees couldn’t convey. But he couldn’t make anything more of it. It made him wonder if he and Rhodry had missed a member of Rachel’s crew when they’d cleared out the ship. Had someone been hiding? If so, they’d been locked so securely that not a scent, not a sound had given them away. It was damn difficult to fool a shifter’s senses. Not impossible, but… Aidan didn’t believe it. If a crew member had been missed it was because he hadn’t been on the ship during the attack. He could ask Rachel how many people had been onboard, but what was the point? She’d only become suspicious and concerned, and it wouldn’t change anything. If someone was on their tail, he’d deal with them. Assuming the swamp didn’t do it for him.
She stirred next to him, scowling in her sleep at the rough bark against her cheek. He smiled and tugged her gently against his side. She sighed and relaxed against him, letting her cheek rest on his shoulder instead. He dropped a kiss on her head then leaned back, wide awake. He could go days without sleep when necessary. Enough to get them out of this damn swamp and back onto dry land.
…
Two days later, they faced the swamp. In her mind, Rachel had lumped the downslope in with the swamp proper, figuring it would simply be more of the same, but with water. More sticky hot air that clung to every inch of exposed skin and stank like several somethings had died recently. More slick mucky vegetation underfoot and more roots to twist an unwary ankle or hide a vicious little beast with teeth half the size of its body. She’d been thankful ten times over for the sturdy mid-calf hiking boots she’d dragged halfway across the universe. She’d never imagined the swamp could be worse than the downslope.
Now, surrounded by a morning darkness that was nearly as deep as the night, she stared at the stagnant water with its coating of fluorescing green slime and knew she’d been wrong.
“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve seen in…forever, I think. And that’s saying something.”
Next to her, Aidan laughed. Nothing seemed to bother him. He didn’t think she knew, but he hadn’t slept since they’d set foot on the downslope. You’d never know it to look at him. He must have incredible endurance. More of that “hunter” discipline, she imagined. She had a lot of questions about that. So many that she was itching to make a list. But then he’d just ask her what she was writing, and she’d have to tell him. Because she couldn’t tell him any more lies. The big lie—that she was going to the city—was like a rock in her stomach.
Or maybe in her heart, because she liked him. Apart from the undeniable lust that sparked between them at the most inconvenient times, she liked him. She wished she’d never kept the truth of the second ship from him in the first place. Her reasoning at the time, that she didn’t want Aidan or any of his people to get hurt, seemed ridiculous now. She’d only spent a few days with him, but she recognized a soldier when she saw one. He might call himself a hunter, and maybe he was that, too. But he was a warrior, and probably far more capable than she was of dealing with Wolfrum and his team. What had she thought, anyway? That she’d walk up to Wolfrum and talk him out of his scandalous plan? Fuck. Just thinking about the whole situation made her head hurt. She kept circling around and around with what-ifs, and all of them ended with Aidan hating her. And that made her heart hurt.
“Do we make a raft?” she asked, determined not to think about anything but getting out of this damn swamp. The rest would wait.
He snorted. “You wish. I’m afraid not.”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “Really? Why not—”
“You start chopping down trees for a raft, and you’re only going to bring a whole new crop of misery onto our heads. There are a lot of things living in those trees. Hell, half of them will stick onto the wood after you build the raft and feast on you all the way across.”
She sighed. “How deep is it?”
“If we’re careful where we cross?” He glanced down at her boots, then grinned. “Too deep.”
She glared. “What about you, tough guy? You telling me you’re going to barefoot across that thing?”
He made a dismissive noise. “Am I suicidal?” His hand shot out and snagged one of the big-toothed rodents who’d been stupid enough to try and sneak from one tree to the next while Aidan was standing there. Evolution at work, she thought, as he tossed the unfortunate creature into the water. It uttered its death scream a second before it was swallowed by a bubbling froth of water and feeding frenzy, as what seemed like a thousand, sharp-toothed creatures fought over the body.
“What the fuck?” she whispered.
“They’re called cucas,” Aiden said. “Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.” He tugged on a hanging vine, yanking it free of the trunk that it twisted around, then, letting his full weight rest on it, tested its st
rength. He handed it over to her, showing her how to coil it around her hand and into her fist. “Don’t fall.”
Rachel looked up with a narrow-eyed glare and snarled at him.
He grinned. She sounded like the tiniest baby shifter kitten when she did that.
“Maybe you should go first.”
“Not likely,” he dismissed. “If I fall, you’ll just use the distraction to swing yourself to safety.”
She laughed. The truth was, and they both knew it, that if either of them fell, the other would risk their life in a vain and probably suicidal attempt at rescue.
With a final testing tug on the vine, she set her eyes on the opposite bank, took a running start down the slope, and flew over the water, her knees tucked up beneath her as if expecting the cucas to leap out of the water and bite her feet. Aidan watched, admiring her courage along with her form. Although she had very trim legs beneath her sensible cargo pants, he thought her ass was a far more bitable target.
She hit the opposite bank with a whoop of success and then promptly fell on said bitable ass. Aidan had done the same on his first crossing when he’d been fifteen and still in training. The ground on the opposite bank was just as soft and twisted with undergrowth as this one, which made for an awkward landing.
“You okay?” he called.
Rachel was on her feet and already scanning the ground and trees, looking for threats. She hadn’t even tried to brush off the mud and slime that coated the back of her hands, which, oddly enough, made him think better of her. It would have been a pointless task, as well as a waste of energy, and she was professional enough to know that. She looked up at his call and gave him a grinning thumbs-up.
Aidan laughed, thinking he might be in love. He knew for damn sure he was in lust. But right now, they had to get away from this fucking swamp before the sun rose enough to warm the water. Because as dangerous as the cucas were, they were far from the deadliest thing living in there.
“Heads up!” he called and swung over the water with practiced ease.
Shifter Planet: The Return Page 16
