“I will fight him.”
Ryan smiled. She could see that had been his plan all along. She had no hope of winning.
There was only honor.
Beth thought of the Ninth: forsake not honor, for it is all which remains.
“If you look to murder the female, one of your own kind, it will not happen while I draw breath.”
“That can be arranged, bloodling,” Ryan said.
Dimitri scowled. “I do not condone pitting males against females. I might slave flesh, but I am not stupid.”
Quick like a snake, Dimitri had his hand around Beth's arm and jerked her around Slade, who moved forward to protect her but stayed his charge.
The knife was suddenly at Dimitri’s throat. Beth didn't remember drawing it, but it served her hand just the same.
Dimitri chuckled.
“And what a female she is!” he cawed happily. A drop of blood oozed from the tip of her ceramic blade and she pressed a little deeper.
Beth had seen her face reflected a thousand times, in a thousand different surfaces. She knew what her ebony gaze sparkled with killing intent.
Dimitri gazed into those depthless eyes, and Beth was sure he saw the wish for his death.
He placed his finger against the blade and pushed it away, scraping a line of blood across his throat.
“Now, where was I?” he clapped his hands together as Beth lowered the blade. She could hear his blood drip from the tip.
Dimitri circled her, and she turned with him, careful not to face away from Ryan, who stood just two meters from her.
“She is what? One hundred pounds?” He was deep into the delightful drama he seemed so fond of. “Five feet three?”
“One hundred ten, five feet two,” Beth commented, already growing weary and irritated with his machinations.
Dimitri suddenly spun to Ryan, trusting her at his back.
Beth wanted to kill Dimitri so much that her hand grew moist with her sweat. She felt Slade's hand press against the small of her back, and a sigh escaped.
He pointed at Ryan. “You would come against a female you outweigh by over a hundred pounds and a foot of height…”
“I'll fight him,” Beth repeated, her eyes on Ryan.
“Oh, I know that you will, little frog,” Dimitri tossed behind him. “You have the heart of a nightloper lioness. But you shall not be killed by an honorless male.”
Slade grunted in discontent behind her.
Beth wasn't sure if that was because Dimitri had called her a little frog or because he’d compared her to the nightlopers. Either way, he wasn't happy.
“Slade has offered challenge for this Reflective. He is a good match for you, Lance Ryan.”
“Or,” Dimitri said offhandedly, “we could release the Reflectives you traded to me, back into Papilio.”
True fear marked Ryan's face, and Beth smiled.
Let him sweat.
“Fine.” His hands went to his hips. “I accept.”
He moved forward, and Beth retreated into Slade, though she meant to hold her ground, but he stood in it.
“Remember, mongrel, if the bloodling seeks death so badly, and the reaper comes to claim him, you will be my plaything. Mine to do whatever I wish with.”
Beth's heart thumped against her chest, and she opened her mouth to reply, but Slade said, “Save your empty threats to the female. You call yourself male, but you are an abuser of the defenseless.”
Ryan's eyes met Slade's, far above her head.
Then his eyes went to her, driving down her body in a repugnant sexual scan.
He was so unworthy to be called Reflective.
“My plaything in every way,” Ryan promised.
“You've had your fun. Now go,” Dimitri said.
Ryan's lips curled. She knew that he was as handsome as Jeb, but his black interior made him ugly outside.
He stalked off, and Beth couldn't help her partial slump against Slade.
“I'm not defenseless,” Beth said.
“No.”
Dimitri threw a palm at Beth, raking his fingers through his short gold hair. “Her hunger beats at me. Feed her and return at midnight.”
Every face turned to the sun, rising and strong above the mountains that stood at every corner of this quadrant.
“Fine.”
Slade began to turn away.
“Keep your word bloodling or we know where to find you... and your females.”
“I am not like that one,” Slade said.
Ryan was not around to hear his disparaging comparison.
Slade guided Beth away as they left the complex together.
She stumbled and fell.
Slade paused.
Bending down, he slid his arms under the back of her knees and her upper back.
“Let me down,” Beth said, her head lolling with fatigue.
“No,” he replied simply.
“I am not different than Dimitri in that way. He has a bit of bloodling in him. It allows him to feel a female's hunger, fatigue—need.”
“Only a little,” Beth said groggily, tucking her abused hands underneath her jaw.
Slade gave a single dip of his chin. “He feels it gnaw at him.” He narrowed his eyes at her and lowered his voice. “I feel that you have not slept in fifty hours. That your last meal was in a sector that is foreign to this one, and most of it was expelled after a male beat you badly.”
He lifted a brow, and Beth sighed, soft and long.
“You don't deny it?”
Beth didn't answer.
She'd fallen asleep in his arms.
She didn't feel his eyes on her or the trees he jumped into and swung through like a monkey to get her to safety. Nor did she feel the soft bed Slade laid her into after stripping her of her filthy clothing.
Beth slept like the dead, her body's rapid healing so needy that she had fallen into a light coma.
Slade watched her while she slept.
*
Jeb crawled on his belly with Calvin and Kennet beside and slightly behind him.
Jacky kept to the rear.
“I see the fort.” Jeb handed the pulse viewers to Calvin, who squinted through them, nodded, and passed them to Kennet.
Kennet pressed his thumb to the pad, and the lenses folded out from a hidden compartment. He pressed the forehead bridge between his eyes and took in the nearly square stone structure. Barred windows lined the top.
“Well that's grim to penetrate,” Kennet commented.
“I don't get it,” Jacky complained quietly. “Can't you just bust in there and beat the hell out of all of them?”
Calvin sighed. “This is the most violent sector. We've got a bunch of humanoids who've migrated here from Seven. They've evolved into a barbaric group of part-humanoid, part-animals.”
“Nightlopers?” Jacky guessed.
“Yes,” Jeb said. “We don't know much, except that their distant relatives on Seven can shift between human and animal forms.”
“No shit?”
Jeb nodded, holding in a smile. “Here, they remain in between the two forms.”
“That sounds sick!” Jacky said, his voice too loud.
“Quiet,” Calvin said.
“Who's sick?” Kennet asked.
“It's Three slang,” Jeb commented dryly.
Kennet's brows jumped. “Well, it doesn't make remote sense.”
Jacky shrugged.
Jeb saw something and grabbed the viewers from Kennet.
He almost broke from cover instantly.
Beth.
That pull strained taut.
Calvin and Kennet tensed. “What?”
“It's Beth… and many bloodlings… and Ryan.”
“Look at how that dickhead pops up all the time. Of course,” Jacky commented, “it might be the only time his dick does that for him.”
Kennet groaned and grabbed the viewer from Jeb. “There's the rumored Dimitri. It has to be.” He pressed the viewer harder agai
nst his face.
Kennet's chin jerked back as Jeb clenched his hands to keep from going to Beth right away.
“That's a huge bloodling,” Kennet said in a thoughtful tone.
Jeb ducked his head, hissing.
The others turned to him.
“I want to rescue her.”
“Doesn't look like you need to,” Kennet commented. “That big bloodling down there is hauling her off.”
“Not helpful, dude,” Jacky said.
Calvin grabbed Jeb as he was about to leap out of their hiding place. “No Jeb,” Calvin said next to his ear. “He doesn't harm her.”
“Of course not. Beth has One blood. Harm isn't any part of it.”
“No,” Calvin said.
Jeb sank to the ground, nodding miserably.
“That's how it's possible? She is Sector One.”
“What in the hell is going on now?” Jacky asked, looking around at the three of them.
Jacky grabbed the viewers. “Lots of shitty auras down there, guys.”
Jeb ignored him, raking a hand through his hair. “Beth is soul bound to me.”
“No—you're soul bound to her. There's a difference, Jeb,” Calvin clarified while he jerked the viewer back from Jacky with a frown then slid it in their gear pack.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I am bound to her. She is not to me.”
Jacky frowned. “So, what happens between you two?”
“If she were without her timepiece, she would be free from her duties as a Reflective for The Cause, and could find her perfect half.”
“Oh,” Jacky said. Jeb could see he was mulling it over. “What happens if you dig her, but she digs another guy?”
“We duel,” Jeb said.
“It's a problem,” Jacky said.
“Your timepiece is gone, and hers is still tick-tocking away.”
Jeb nodded and frowned. “For now. But you forget—it will instantly disappear the moment she returns.”
Jacky stared at Jeb in question.
“Five years.”
“Oh, shit,” Jacky said.
“Oh shit indeed,” Jeb agreed.
They were all quiet for a moment.
“So to recap this mess, we need to get Beth, free the Reflectives, grab their asses back to the water we jumped to, and she needs to focus the entire troupe back to Papilio?”
“He does have a way of connecting the dots,” Calvin said with grudging admiration.
Jeb grunted.
“Then Beth returns, her timepiece explodes and she hunts around for Mr. Right?”
Jeb grimaced.
“Then what happens when she finds this guy?”
Jeb met his eyes, but it was Kennet who answered. “They duel to the death.”
“Why? All because she's part-Reflective?” Jacky asked.
“Yes,” Jeb replied.
“That blows big time.”
That about covered it.
*
Allowing the bloodling to carry Beth away was the worst thing Jeb had ever experienced.
Calvin and Kennet sat on his arms as he fought to go after her.
Jacky looked on with wide eyes.
When the sun left the land, seeping back into the crevices of the mountain's foothills, they made their way closer to Dimitri's stronghold.
They would free their kin, killing all who would stop them, and retrieve Beth.
She might not realize she was his, but Jeb did.
It was enough for both of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Beth's nose drove her right out of healing sleep.
She was relieved to open her eyes and not find herself in a vat of blood.
She hated the word rescued. She was not some weak female, at that moment, Beth could not prove that.
Slade moved gracefully to her side, sitting in a chair that had been pulled out.
He had a plate heaped with food. Beth's mouth watered, and her stomach contracted painfully.
“Not too fast,” Slade cautioned when she tore the plate from his hand and began stuffing food in by the chunks.
“Water,” she said with her mouth full.
Slade handed her a cup, and she gulped a mouthful. A painful load slid down her throat and hit her terribly empty stomach in a horrible lump.
She plowed through half the plate, which included cheesy eggs and a half a loaf of bread. Then she licked bacon grease from her fingers.
Breathless, she gazed out the window. She could make out the vague light of stars like matches struck against a willing sky.
Beth put the plate on the bed and camouflaged a burp with her fist, her eyes flicking to his.
He smiled. “Better, tiny frog?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“I will not, for that is who you are.”
Beth ignored his comment.
“I have slept the entire day?”
He nodded.
Beth's shoulders slumped. “You fight that worthless Reflective tonight?”
Slade simply nodded.
Her eyes rose to his. Seconds filled the moment. “Thank you.”
Beth swung her legs to the edge of the bed, grateful her bloody clothes were not on her.
Essentially naked before Slade, she wore only a bra and underwear.
Slade's dark eyes held hers. “You are welcome.” He paused. “Do not be embarrassed. I have clothes for you. The others… were not fit to be worn.”
She agreed, but no male had seen her in this state of undress.
Jeb.
Beth gulped. Where is Jeb? When could she return to Papilio?
Beth tried to ignore the lack of clothing, her horrible disgusting body, and shriveled stomach, where each rib could be counted.
She had never felt so low, so meager.
So Principledammned ineffectual.
She inhaled deeply and touched Slade's thick forearm. I must do the right thing.
His breath caught, but he remained motionless.
“Please,” Beth began, employing her little-used feminine wiles. “Do not fight him. Ryan is ruthless. He will dismantle you.”
Slade grinned, pulling her off the bed and onto his lap.
“No!” Beth struggled.
“I'm not going to harm you.”
Beth turned, his arms at mid-back around her. “I am not some whore to be fought over and won like a trophy.”
He nodded, tucking her matted filthy hair behind her ear.
“I am Reflective.”
“And therein lies the prize, Beth Jasper.”
She felt her nose scrunch.
“You are a neutral female here on One. I know you understand that. And you're a hopper—”
“Reflective,” Beth grumbled.
He chuckled and inclined his head. “Yes.”
Beth put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed them. “You seem to be an honorable bloodling.”
His expression darkened, his fingertips tightening against her heated skin.
“But I can't have your death on my conscience. I can't be with Ryan,” she said in a low voice.
“He will not have you.”
“You don't know the fighter a male Reflective can be.”
Slade dipped his head, his strong brow outlined in ink. “I have seen many fights.”
Beth closed her eyes, trying not to imagine good males tasked with killing each other or facing execution.
“They are a great warrior class, and what has happened on your world is regrettable.”
Regrettable.
Beth would not cry. She inhaled sharply, settling her emotions.
He tipped her chin up. “He will not take you from me.”
Beth searched those deep eyes. Truth. “I do not want to be with you.”
Slade leaned forward, and Beth felt her lips part. She felt the tip of his tongue run a hot, wet line across the fullness of her bottom lip, and the air in her lungs quieted.
He pulled her into his body and sip
ped at her lip like a fine wine, brushing his own against hers softly. His smooth fangs pressed against the flesh of her mouth as he pecked and sucked.
Slade pulled back just enough to allow her to look at him.
“Tell me there is not a small part of you that wants this.”
Beth dropped her gaze.
She'd never been much of a liar and found she couldn't answer without one.
She lifted her head.
“I don't want you to die.”
Slade smiled, kissing the tip of her dirty nose and wrinkled his own. “I shall live to fight another day.”
Beth gave him solemn eyes, and he said, “Now, let's get you cleaned up.”
*
Every part of her felt better. The bloodlings had a cleanser that was similar to the archaic devices of Three, but it did the job.
Beth had cleansed twice. Grime and dried blood had turned the basin a vague shade of brown and pink.
There were female bloodlings, though not one had darkened Slade's doorstep.
Neither spoke of the gladiator-style fight that would take place in two hours.
“Are you the… leader here?” Beth asked, plucking a fruit she'd never seen for inspection. She shrugged, tossing it in her newly clean mouth.
“I'm a—prince among my people.”
Beth's brow lifted. “Truly?”
Slade shook his head, leaning forward. He planted his elbows on the table opposite her, lacing his fingers together under a square jaw. He rasped the shadow of stubble that covered his face against those knotted hands.
Beth didn't realize she'd stopped talking—and eating. She'd been staring and dropped her eyes to the full bowl of fruit.
Guilt ate at her.
What is wrong with me? Was it some strange residual gratefulness that Slade had protected her, when none had before?
Except Jeb.
She’d let a bloodling lick her lip—and kiss her.
To his credit, Slade had said nothing about her obvious mixed signals.
Beth forced more fruit into her body, avoiding his eyes.
She was wearing the clothes of another bloodling. The females must have been very tall because she’d had to roll the cuffs of the hem three times.
She busied her hands, braiding her long hair.
When she reached the tail, she took the band she'd been wearing since Three from her wrist.
She flicked off a single flake of dried blood from the suede-like material.
savage 07 - the dark savage Page 70
