She had never flirted with him. Not once. Armend hadn't given her any indication that he wanted more than friendship during the entire time he was at school with her. She was young to be in the master's program in geology. Armend was a good five years older than she was, and on top of that, she looked extremely young. Like a boy. Armend had treated her more like a younger sibling, He spent a great deal of time with her, but he dated a lot of women--women who looked like her sisters rather than looked like her.
She had three sisters. All were tall, with womanly curves and the faces of models. She had come along ten years after all of them. All three were athletic, beautiful, intelligent and now married with children. She was . . . Teagan. She could see Armend being attracted to her sisters, but she wasn't five foot ten and she didn't have full breasts and curved hips. She didn't attract men like her sisters did. And she definitely didn't lead men on.
"You aren't really here looking for a certain type of crystal or stone," Armend objected. He inched forward.
Teagan picked up her one cooking pot. She used it to cook everything when she was hiking--which was often. The pot was black from spending so much time in flames. "Don't you dare come any closer."
"You're a tease. A bitch," Armend snarled. His face turned ugly, and he clenched his fingers into tight fists. "I came all the way up here for a pity fuck. That's what you are to me. My boys laughed when I showed them your letter. They're camping a couple of miles from here and waiting their turn."
She kept her expression blank. He had friends camped close by? She was in the Carpathian Mountains alone with him. She'd trusted him to guide her up the mountain in order to find the exact crystal or stone she needed. It was imperative she find it. She was on a quest--a mission--and she needed the crystal. She'd know when she found it. Her body was a tuning fork for such things. The moment she stumbled on the trail she'd track it to its location, but she had to feel a hint of it first. She'd come prepared to spend a month in the mountains, knowing sometimes it was very difficult to run across the faint sign that would allow her to find what she needed.
"I guess I should thank you for thinking of me, but really, Armend, a pity fuck is out. I don't want you to touch me, let alone get that personal. So pity or not, that's out of the question and off the table. Get out of my tent."
"You're just a stupid little virgin, aren't you? A cock tease."
She raised an eyebrow, gritting her teeth. She had a temper and he was pushing very close to it. He was definitely going to attack her, and she might as well prod him into it so she was ready for him. "There isn't anything stupid about me, Armend. I'm far more intelligent than you'll ever be. I had to tutor you, remember? You never would have gotten through any of your classes without me."
He flung himself on her, knocking the cooking pot out of her hand. She was small. Five foot two to her sisters' five foot ten and eleven, and that was when she wore shoes. She was extremely slight. She didn't exactly have lush breasts or anything else that men found enticing. What in the hell was Armend thinking?
His body slammed into hers, carrying her over backward. Her head hit the frame of her backpack and her back hit the ground--hard. He landed on top of her, forcing the air out of her lungs. She punched him as hard as she could from the awkward angle she had, driving her fist into his left eye.
He swore and punched her back. Three times. In the face. She actually saw stars and the edges of her vision blackened. She refused to pass out. He tore at her clothes, ripping her favorite camping shirt. She had only brought a few changes of clothing, because when she hiked, it was all about the weight of the pack she carried. He'd just reduced that meager amount by one.
There was no bucking him off, no getting out from under him by rolling, so she used her very strong stomach muscles and sat up, into him, slamming her head under his chin and driving up with the top of her head. It hurt like hell, but she didn't care. It got him off of her. He rolled into the side of the tent, nearly bringing it down.
She scrambled on all fours to get out of the tent. He kicked her hard in the back of her thigh. Her leg went numb but the force sent her flying out of the opening. She landed on her stomach and rolled away from the tent as fast as she could, trying not to sob with the pain. He wasn't fooling around. He definitely meant business and he didn't care whether he hurt her or not.
She'd taken lessons in defending herself--a lot of them. She climbed, both bouldering and sport climbing. She hiked all the time, all over the world. She was in good shape and strong for being so small. She was not going to let someone like Armend Jashari beat and rape her, not without hurting him.
Her hand found the rock she was looking for. It was a good size and solid. As she pushed herself up, struggling to fight off the waves of nausea the punches to her face had caused, Armend hit her from behind, slamming her back to the ground. His hands found her hair and he yanked her head back savagely, turning her as he did so, still straddling her. He punched her hard in the ribs and then leaned down and bit her lip. Hard. The pain was excruciating. She tasted blood.
When he lifted his head, he had blood around his mouth. Her blood. He laughed. "I'm going to have fun with you, Teagan. And then my boys are going to have fun. You'll do whatever we tell you to do and you'll beg us to fuck you if you want to get off this mountain alive. You're not the first stupid bitch we've taken up here. A few are still wandering around trying to find their way off the mountain. Oh. Wait. They fell off a cliff. We didn't bother to bring their bitch bodies out, just left them for the scavengers."
Now she could put down "poor judge of character" beside all the other "cons" on her list about herself. As his head came down toward hers again, she slammed the rock against his temple, using his downward momentum and her strength. He grunted. His eyes rolled. He slumped over top of her, a dead weight. Crushing her.
Teagan wasn't certain she could find the strength to move his body, but the thought of his friends being close by--and she was certain he was telling the truth about them--had her shoving him hard with every bit of strength she possessed. She managed to shift him enough to crawl out from under him.
Shock took over, adrenaline leaving her shaking and close to tears. Neither was a good thing when she needed to get out of there fast. She couldn't help herself, she had to reach over and feel for his pulse, just to assure herself she hadn't killed him. Touching him was abhorrent, but she did it. Unfortunately he was still alive. She scowled at him, staggered to her feet and hastily caught up her pack. She left her tent and started up the mountain rather than going down it as he would expect.
She had no idea how good he was at tracking someone, but she wasn't going to make it easy for him. She needed a plan, and she'd figure out what to do while she climbed. Her face ached and she knew it was swelling. Her ribs hurt. She wanted to go back and smash him again with the rock. At least there was some satisfaction in hitting him hard.
First, she had to calm her breathing so her ribs wouldn't hurt so darned bad. She wanted to climb into the high country so she could make a wide enough circle that she could head back down the mountain and not run into Armend and his friends if they really decided to come after her. Remembering the look on Armend's face and the way his eyes turned hot and eager at the thought of him and his friends having so much power over her, she was certain they would come after her.
Teagan pushed herself hard, using the trees and brush to hide as she moved steadily up the mountain. She kept herself in good shape and usually she could hike for hours uphill when needed, but she was at a higher elevation and the back of her thigh throbbed and protested with every step she took. Her face hurt so bad she wanted to cry, and one eye was swelling, along with her cheek. Her lip seemed the worst, which was silly. She poured water on a handkerchief and held it to her lower lip while she walked.
Eventually she came to a narrow deer path winding uphill through a much thinner grove of trees. Thin wisps of fog drifted through the trees--a few fingers only, but the air had cooled al
ready considerably. She was grateful for the respite. Up high, the sun and thinner air wreaked havoc and she had very fair skin and her ribs hurt like hell with every jarring step.
She cursed Armend Jashari with every breath she took. She'd gone a few more miles and was wondering if she dared to take a break. She needed one. She'd drank water and stopped a few times to find a place she could do her "girl" thing, and she hid any sign of that carefully, afraid it would help Armend find her trail much easier.
She spotted a depression in the low brush and thought it might be a good place to rest, even if it was only for a few minutes. Her leg needed it. She took several steps toward it and stopped dead in her tracks, her heart suddenly accelerating. There it was. Just like that. When she almost let everyone convince her she was crazy, she felt a strange fluttering along her veins, like a vibration.
Immediately she halted, allowing herself water while she absorbed the feeling. She needed to be able to tune her entire body to the vibration, until it was a song in her veins, rushing with her blood through her system. Her gift. The one she could never explain to anyone and not make it sound insane.
Elation swept through her. She hadn't thought she'd find the trail so quickly, but somewhere ahead of her, the wonderful stone or crystal or gem she needed so desperately was waiting for her. She had to make a decision right now. If she followed the trail of the stone she sought, she would be risking Armend and his friends finding her. If she didn't, she could lose this stone forever, and that meant losing her beloved grandmother.
Trixie Joanes had taken her and her three sisters into her home when Teagan was born. Her mother died in childbirth and not once had her grandmother ever blamed her for the death of her daughter. If anything, she had loved her all the more. She owed everything to her grandmother and loved her beyond anyone else in the world. Lately, her grandmother's mind had begun slipping.
Her sisters were terrified she was drifting into a world of delusion and they kept taking her to psychiatrists. No one seemed able to help. Teagan had decided she had to do something herself, and that meant using her special gifts few wanted to know about. Talking about them put her in the same "insane" category as Trixie. Still, she knew what she could do with anything of the earth, minerals, gems, crystals, any type of rock. She knew the power each stone held and she was able to tune it to her, unlock that power and use it. Finding the right stone to help clear Trixie's mind was essential. Teagan was willing to risk everything for her grandmother.
She changed direction immediately and doubled her pace, determined to put as much distance between Armend and herself while she followed the trail of rock or crystal her body had tuned itself to. Armend had never believed her that her body could actually find the trail of types of rock and crystal.
She'd told him, of course, one time during an all-nighter at the university. He'd wasted a few days partying as usual and she'd agreed to help him study for an exam. She'd been a little tired and sometimes that made her talk too much. He'd laughed at her, just like everyone did, so she didn't bring it up again. Until now.
She felt like an idiot confiding in him, relaying her fears about her beloved grandmother, explaining why her quest was so important. She could understand him thinking she was crazy, but seriously, he was the crazy one. He was most likely a killer. A serial rapist. How was she going to explain that one to her grandmother and sisters?
She winced remembering his cold statement. "Pity fuck." That was harsh. Mostly men ignored her. Well, okay. Not ignore; she had mostly male friends. But they always saw her as a friend. A little sister. Which was fine by her because she wasn't attracted to anyone. Not male or female. She had no idea why, but she wasn't.
Her sisters endlessly set her up, calling her and asking her over for dinner. Inevitably when she arrived, there would be a man--or a woman--one of her sisters had also just happened to invite, and of course she had to sit through dinner next to them and be hit on all evening.
But now, up in the mountains, all alone, without anyone around, she just had to get the attention of a man, and he turned out to be a killer. What was up with that? She sighed. She realized her legs were about to give out. The pain in her side now radiated up into her chest so her lungs burned for air. She had to rest, but fear drove her to keep going. She needed to find a place out of the way, somewhere she could lie down for a while.
She looked around, hoping to find a more hidden area to rest in, just in case she did fall asleep. She was exhausted, and the pain seemed to be worsening, although intellectually, she knew it hadn't, she just wasn't occupying her mind and keeping it at bay as well as she had been while she followed the trail. She had to pay attention to her body, to the strength of the song she heard in her veins. If she went too far in the wrong direction, the vibrations dulled. It took total concentration, which was a good thing to block out the pain, but she'd been traveling for a good part of the day and she had to stop.
Movement caught her eye. The trees were mostly gone up this high. Only a few straggly ones hung grimly on to life. While she'd been hiking, the mist had grown thicker and she hadn't really noticed. Around her, the world seemed gray, alien even. The wind blew, so that the fog swirled in pinwheels, but it didn't seem to go anywhere. Still, even with the sounds muffled, she had definitely spotted movement a few yards to her left.
She bit at her lip and nearly swore aloud. Instead, as she crouched low to keep from being spotted, she heaped curses silently on Armend's head, wishing she was a witch and could consign him to a living hell. Maybe have fire ants crawling up his legs and biting the heck out of him everywhere, especially his manly parts. That might be nice.
It took a few minutes to realize it was no human being moving around in the brush, but an animal. No. More than one animal. Wolves? She knew there were all kinds of wildlife making homes in the mountain range. This was nearly the last refuge for larger predators.
She shrugged carefully out of her backpack, wanting to groan as the weight came off her back. Instead, she kept her eyes on the wide field of dense brush. She spotted movement in at least five different spots. Alarm grew. She hadn't cleaned up and the scent of blood probably clung to her. She brushed her hand across her face and it came back smeared with blood.
Her lip actually hurt more than her head, which was silly since her face was swollen up like a balloon, but the pain in her lip made her sick. It didn't help, either, that she had a habit of biting at her lower lip. The scrape of her teeth when she forgot was agony over the wound. She hadn't looked at it, not even once, afraid maybe she needed stitches. Or worse, the asinine idiot had rabies or something. Sheesh. She should have hit Armend harder.
Another strange thing was she felt inexplicable sorrow. Not just that, but despair. Hopelessness. An agony of loneliness. She knew it wasn't her own, but something carried in the mist. A song. A song of great sorrow, not just from one individual, but from many. The notes blended into the symphony of the mountain.
One of the animals moved out of the brush into the open. She stared at it, heart pounding. Mouth dry. She kept trying to make it into a wolf. Right size maybe. She could even think the shape was sort of right. But no way was that creature a wolf. It looked more like a sheep. Or a goat. Were there wild goats or wild sheep in the Carpathian Mountains?
The fog was very heavy and she hadn't even noticed it had become that dense. The air felt damp, but she was grateful for the cover. There wasn't as much foliage up this high and she didn't want Armend or any of his friends to spot her moving up the very faint trail she followed. The animal moved again, a slow steady few steps, and her body sagged with relief. Clearly the Carpathian Mountains were home to wild sheep.
She sank down onto a small, flat rock and let herself look around. Her tuning fork, as she called it, was leading her up higher into the mountains than she'd ever intended to go. Teagan drank more water. It was important to stay hydrated.
She glanced at her watch. She'd been hiking up the trail for several hours. She was hun
gry and tired and out of sorts. Worse, she was now totally enshrouded in the fog and wrapped in a blanket of intense emotions, none of them good. The notes playing through the song of the mountain were painful to listen to. She was a healer and she naturally wanted to do something to ease that pain. If it was pressing on her shoulders and crushing her chest, she couldn't imagine what it was doing to those who felt such despair.
She'd only taken a couple of small breaks because she was really afraid now that she'd decided to hunt for the gemstone or crystal that could aid in clearing her grandmother's mind. Of course, if Trixie knew she was hiking alone in the wilds of the Carpathian Mountains, with a pack of rabid men on her heels, she'd get out the mythical wooden spoon she'd always threatened Teagan with.
She needed a place to rest. Her leg, where Armend had kicked her, cramped and throbbed alternately and she began to limp. She drank more water and searched above her for a place that might be hidden. There didn't seem to be any real cover other than the fog, but it was so thick, she couldn't really see anything above the elevation where she was.
With a sigh, she capped the bottle and stood. She couldn't stay there. She needed shelter of some kind, and that meant looking for it. While she did, she might as well follow the trail the strange vibrations in her body were leading her to. Both paths seemed connected. Both led up the mountain, instead of down toward civilization.
She shrugged into her pack and started up the trail, putting one step in front of the other, trying to feel her way. The blood sang in her veins. She was definitely close to her goal. She veered to her right. The song grew louder. She heard it in her ears, a pounding drum of satisfaction calling to her. Another few yards and the song burst through her body. She was that close--so close she actually could push aside those sad, weeping notes that counterpointed the song in her body.
Dark Ghost Page 2
