by L. S. O'Dea
He sat up. He was too damaged for someone like her. She still believed in happy endings and all he believed in was revenge.
“We should try and sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.” She rolled onto her back, her voice forlorn.
He almost groaned in frustration. Instinct told him to stay away from her, but she needed a friend. He could do that. Actually, a friend like him, someone wise to the cruelties of the world, would be good for her. He lay down next to her. “You might feel better if you tell me about your dream.”
“It was the swamp.” She scooted closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “I should’ve warned you. I knew the nightmares would return.”
Like a punch in the stomach, her words knocked the air from his lungs. He’d done this to her. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was now. He had to stay away from her. He was poison to everyone he cared about.
“I dreamt about the others. The ones I lost. We’d only been gone from the Finishing Camp for about a week the first time the Almightys’ Guards came for us. We weren’t prepared. Everyone scattered. It took a few hours but Gaar and I located most of the Producers from our group. We took them to a safe place and told them to wait while we went to find the others. We shouldn’t have bothered.”
Her tears soaked into his shirt. He moved his arm, wrapping it around her and pulling her closer.
“They’d already been captured. The Almightys didn’t bother with a Finishing Camp. They were taken to the Warehouse District. Gaar refused to enter the city. I understand. I do, but...Gaar and Mirra wouldn’t let me out of their sight for weeks. Not until even I knew the Producers were dead.” She trembled at his side.
Thank Araldo for Gaar and Mirra. He rolled over, wrapping his other arm around her. He could offer her this comfort as a friend, nothing more. Her shaking lessened as she snuggled closer to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
“When we went back to where we’d left the others, eight of them were gone.” Her voice was hollow. “They’d tried to find their way back to camp. We tracked them. They’d gotten turned around and had ended up in the swamp.”
There was nothing he could say to make this better, so he ran his hand up and down her back to let her know she wasn’t alone. It was all he could offer.
“We only found six of them. I think the River-Men had already eaten the other two.”
He buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll never forget the ones we found. There was no blood. No injuries. Just their pale faces and their eyes.” She started shaking again and his arms tightened around her. “They were wide open and staring up through the water at us. At me. Accusing me. I convinced them to leave the camp. I should’ve kept them safe.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” He shifted so she was looking at him. “You saved them from certain death at the camp.”
“They died anyway.”
“Yes, but they wouldn’t have if they’d listened to you. They left and wandered in the forest alone and unprepared.” He had a hard time getting the last few words out. That was what he’d been going to do.
She touched his chin. “You were dead this time. Tangled in the river grass and looking at me.” Her voice was whisper soft.
“I’m not dead.” He tightened his arms. “Thanks to you, I’m alive.”
She rested her head against his chest. “I’m afraid to sleep. It took months for the nightmares to stop.”
He rolled onto his back and she snuggled closer, her hand falling on his chest and clenching his shirt. This wasn’t right. She was attracted to him. He’d seen it in her eyes. He had to make sure that she understood how wrong he was for her. “You...you need to know that even if you’d told me about what’d happened, I would’ve gone through the swamp.”
She stiffened. Good. She needed to see that for him nothing and no one came before revenge.
“I get it. Reese’s life is at stake.” She rolled onto her back away from him. “She’s important to you.”
It was only a few inches but he felt the loss. He fought the desire to pull her to him and kiss her until neither of them could think straight by reminding himself that he’d destroyed the last woman he’d cared about and he wouldn’t do that again.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t have anything against interclass relationships.”
His breathing stopped. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Was she giving him permission for the night? She was young and curious. She’s Tim’s daughter! He brushed that thought aside. She was here. He was here. They’d both almost died.
“But if you like her you should be faithful.” She rolled to her side, her great big eyes wide and innocent.
“What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?” His mind was fuzzy with desire.
“You and Reese. I won’t tell her about the girls at Ray’s. It’s none of my business, but I doubt she’d like you mating with them if you and she...you know.” Her gaze darted to his cheek, his mouth, his nose, anywhere but his eyes.
“Holy Araldo!” He sat up and scooted away from her. “Where did that come from?” He’d been thinking about making love to her and she’d been talking about him and...Reese. “I’m not like my...I’m not like that. Reese is only a teenager. I’m twice her age.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was not one of those men. He was not.
“I was supposed to be mated at thirteen. We’re usually assigned older males the first time.”
“Let me make this very clear.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “There is nothing, nothing between Reese and me. The only feelings I have for her are fatherly. Nothing else.”
“Oh.” Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
He was not going back to that. Her comment about Reese had been like jumping into an ice cold lake, but all it’d take was her touching him like she’d done before and he’d be thinking or doing something he shouldn’t. “Just like you and...” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The lie refused to pass his lips. His feelings for her were far from parental.
“I’m not your daughter.” There was a hint of anger in her tone.
He’d use that to put some distance between them. “I know that, but you’re...so young.”
“Stop saying that. I should’ve had children by now, loads of them.”
“Loads?” He grinned, relaxing at her pique. He was safe but more importantly, she was safe from him.
“Between four and eight. They wanted us to have one every year, but life was hard in camp. Every two years was more common.” She rolled onto her other side, away from him.
“That doesn’t make it right. What we did...What we do to your kind is wrong. Not just the killing and eating, although that is definitely wrong, but the forced breeding. Thirteen is too young to have children.”
“Mom wants me to choose a mate.” Her words were whisper-soft and sad.
This was not a conversation he should be having with her, especially, since right now he wanted to be that mate.
“I don’t know what to do.” She sat up.
“This isn’t my business. You should talk to your parents.” It was a coward’s way out but he clung to it.
“I tried. Mom is impossible and Dad always takes her side. He always has.”
“That’s what good parents do. They present a united front to the children but that doesn’t mean they don’t have heated conversations about the subject when they’re alone.”
“Has Dad said something to you?”
Tim was not going to be happy with him but too bad. Tim should’ve supported her in this, not Millie. “You father sees both sides.”
“Both sides? There’s only one side. The right—”
“To win an argument you have to understand your opponent’s point of view.” She opened her mouth to argue and he held up his hand, stopping her words. “Pay attention. I may not have forest skills, but I used to be a great negotiator. You may be able to learn something from me after all.”
�
��We’ll see about that.” Her lips quirked up at the corner.
“Let me make this very clear.” He shifted so he was looking directly in her eyes. “I’m on your side. No one should force you to do anything.”
“You forced me to go into the swamp.”
“No, you had a choice.” He touched her lips before she could respond, his fingers lingering for a second at the warmth and softness before he dropped his hand as if burnt. “It may not have been a good choice, but you had a choice. You could’ve refused, left me on my own.” He smiled. “I’m very glad you didn’t, but you did have a choice.”
“You’re wrong. I couldn’t have done that.”
“And that was your choice. When you were in the encampment and they came and took you, you didn’t have a choice.”
“Obviously, I did because I left.” She smirked.
He laughed. “That’s true, but I think you know what I mean.”
“I do, but you’re still wrong.” Her eyes locked with his. “I couldn’t have left you there to die.”
The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. She was brave and courageous and strong, not to mention too damned attractive.
“Trust me, if I could’ve left anyone it would’ve been you. You were being a bossy, stubborn, arrogant jerk.”
At least, the urge to kiss her was gone. “And you’re not? I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. You think you know everything. Let me tell you a secret.” He leaned closer to her. “You don’t.”
“You’re trying to divert my attention.” She shook her head. “Not this time. What did my dad tell you?”
“Are you sure you want to hear anything a bossy, arrogant jerk has to say?”
“No. I want to hear what my father had to say.” She raised a brow.
She was such a little shit, but he welcomed the anger because at least it wasn’t lust. “Fine. As you know, your parents see you as old enough to be paired. Your father also realizes that many males are attracted to you.”
“Really?” Her eyes glittered with interest.
Damn, she was cute. He had no idea how he could go from pissed to amused so quickly. She was like a free fall for him. It was exasperating, and he was afraid, a little addicting. “Yes. Really. That shouldn’t surprise you.”
“Maybe, it shouldn’t, but it does.” Her smiled slipped a little. “I see how they look at me but I guess I don’t believe that it’s true.”
She deserved to know her own worth. From what he’d heard, she’d had a rough time growing up. “According to your father, you can have your pick of anyone at camp.” Her parents were right. She needed a male in her life—someone strong enough to guide her, but smart enough not to kill her spirit. She needed a man who’d help her make safer choices but still appreciate her passionate and adventurous streak. He could help her find that male, but first he had to make sure that Tim’s concerns weren’t valid.
Unhappiness flashed in her eyes and his heart twisted.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re not interested in any of those males. You’re still waiting for Jethro.” Tim had a right to be worried; his daughter was a fool. The boy didn’t deserve her.
“No, I’m not. I don’t care about him anymore. I’ve told Mom and Dad over and over, but they don’t believe me.”
She was too adamant, too passionate in her denial. “You can lie to your parents and you can lie to me”—he leaned toward her until he was whispering in her ear—“but don’t lie to yourself.”
“I’m not lying to anyone.” She pushed him away. “Jethro hasn’t wanted anything to do with me in years. Why would I still like someone like that?”
“If that’s true, then why don’t you want to get married?” She was hurt and angry, but worse than that she still cared for Jethro. It was written all over her face.
“My kind doesn’t get married. That’s an Almighty custom.”
“Fine. Why don’t you want to”—he swallowed, this was uncomfortable—“mate with someone.” His face heated as his mind conjured up images of exactly what that word entailed.
“I think you mean pair or bond with someone.” She glanced at him. “I’m definitely interested in mating and all that stuff.” She turned toward him. “But I have questions. Like I said, I’ve seen the forest creatures—”
“Stop!” He was never going to make it through this night. “We can’t discuss this.”
“Why? You talked to me about it before.”
“I did not.” Nope. That was impossible.
“Yeah, you explained what I said wrong earlier today. When I said you were on top of me.”
That image went straight to his gut and twisted. “I shouldn’t have and we’re done talking about it now. I’m a male and...it isn’t appropriate.” Tim should never let her out of his sight.
“Okay. I’ll get the answers another way.”
“What do you mean by that?” She’d better not be planning on experimenting with some young punk like Jethro. She deserved better than that.
“That’s none of your business.” She stretched out on the ground. “I’m going to sleep. I suggest you do the same. We have a long day tomorrow.”
He didn’t move. If she were anyone else, he’d be showing her the answers to her questions in exquisite detail, but she was his friend’s daughter. She was his friend. That thought made him shift father away from her. He liked her. Not as a female, but as a person. She was arrogant and bossy and a brat sometimes, but he liked her.
“What’s the other side?” she asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You said that Dad saw both sides. One is that I’m old enough. What’s the other?”
He almost groaned. Talk about tenacious. “Your father knows that you need to decide the right time to choose a mate. Things like that can’t be forced.”
“They’re forced all the time and not only with Producers. Grunts, Servants—”
“Yes, and it’s not right. Two people have to choose each other over everyone and everything else or the marriage...bonding doesn’t work. It doesn’t last.” That was why he’d never married. He’d never put anyone before his work, his ambition.
She rolled over and leaned up on her elbow. “Is lasting that important? Servants switch mates a lot. At Ray’s, you went with two—”
“Stop.” He held up his hand. “I told you what your father said. I’m done talking about this with you. If you have more questions about...waiting or the process or anything else about mating, talk to your mother or a girlfriend.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It was hot in here.
“I guess I could ask Kim.” She flopped back down. “She said that she and Jackson mated.” She looked up at him. “I’ve kissed—”
“Enough! Please stop.” He’d almost rather be back in jail than to sit in the dark and listen to her talk about kissing.
“Sorry.” Her tone was deflated.
“It’s good to be curious, but we can’t talk about this. We can’t.” Or at least he couldn’t. It didn’t seem to bother her.
“But, I don’t know when I’ll see Kim again and I don’t have any other friends.” She sat up and scooted backward to sit by him.
Great. He was being torn apart with lust and she saw him as her friend. It was what he’d wanted, but it stung. He took a deep breath to clear his head of lustful thoughts. He might be able to help her with this. “From what I hear, you have a lot of friends. Too many if you ask Gaar and Mirra.”
“Not those kind of friends.” She smiled at him and his heart stammered in his chest. “I mean females around my age.” Her smile faded. “But that’s the problem. No one likes me. I’m too different.”
“We’re all different, that’s what makes us interesting.”
“The Producers fear me because I’m a predator. The Servants disdain me because I’m a Producer and the Guards dislike me because I’m part Servant.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard and seen.”
> “Then your eyes and ears are worse than I thought.” Her voice cracked.
Not tears. He couldn’t handle tears. Not from her. She was too strong and obstinate for crying. “I think your ears and eyes are at fault this time. I saw respect and attraction from several of the Servants at Ray’s and Jackson can’t say enough good things about you.”
“He’s my friend. I do have a few.”
“Stop interrupting me. I’m not going to praise you often, so pay attention.”
“Okay.” She glanced at him, her eyes mischievous. “But just so you know, it’s all right with me if you praise me anytime.”
“Nah, I know your type. It’ll go to your head.”
She elbowed him in the side and he laughed. This was good. No tears.
“As I was saying, I’ve seen the way a few of the Guards look at you too, Curtis, for example. He was risking his life to help me escape but he couldn’t keep his eyes from you.”
“Curtis is—”
“Ah, ah.” He waggled his finger at her. “What did I say about interrupting?” He nudged her with his elbow. “You’re not very patient are you?”
“No.” She ducked her head. “Gaar yells at me about it all the time.” She mimicked the Handler’s voice. “A true predator has patience so the smart prey must also. You can’t be a rabbit or squirrel and live long.”
“Sounds like good advice for both the forest and for disagreements.” This was nice and that was surprising. He’d liked bantering with her the few times that they’d spoken before his arrest but since his escape she’d been a pushy brat—magnificent to watch in the forest but a brat. “Another poor male who is crazy about you is that Producer friend of yours, what’s his name? You were with him when I arrived at camp.”
“Travis?”
“Yeah. Him.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Poor guy. That’s a fate worse than death for a fellow in love.”
“No.” She laughed. “He doesn’t feel anything for me. I think he did. We both thought that maybe...you know. We’d been friends forever, but neither of us feels that way about the other.”
“Take if from a male. He feels that way for you. He’s just trying to hide it.”
