"I am known as Shadow.” He stepped closer to the bed. “For the moment, you are a guest in my current home in the Azul Mountains. As to what is going on, as you phrased it, perhaps you can tell me. I found you lying in the snow. For the last day you have been ill. Beyond that, I have no answers for you."
Though his tone was low and gentle, the look in his eyes held a touch of cynical suspicion, as if she had lain naked in the snow to catch him in some kind of trap. She searched her admittedly sketchy memory of geography for the Azul Mountains, but came up blank. Illinois didn't boast any mountains. So where on earth was she?
"Shadow? That's an unusual name.” She bit her tongue to keep from blurting out her thoughts. People name their dogs Shadow, not their children. She couldn't afford to antagonize the man. What if he had Thea hidden away somewhere?
As if he could read her mind the lines around his mouth tightened, but his tone remained even. “Shadow is the name I use."
"Yeah, whatever. But it doesn't tell me who you are. Or what I'm doing here. Wherever here is.” She waved her arm at the strange chamber. She grabbed at the fur as it slipped lower down her chest.
He shrugged. “I have told you the extent of my knowledge. Now perhaps you will allow me to know your name?"
"Dale Stuart-Taylor."
"Dale? An unusual name."
"My mother liked the unusual. It's short for Dalthea. My father came from a valley in Scotland. Dale means ‘valley dweller’ and Thea means ‘gift.’ My mother decided I was her ‘gift from the valley dweller.'” Why had she told him that old family story? She should be concentrating on figuring out where she was and finding Thea.
"Well, Dale Stuartaylor, are you joined?"
"Joined?"
"Is there a man whom I should contact for you?"
"You mean married?” The man had a strange way of expressing himself. “I'm a widow."
"Ah.” He cast a pointed look at her hands. “Was the bonding distasteful to you? Is that why you no longer wear the man's emblem?"
She touched the third finger of her left hand. The simple gold band Steven had placed there fifteen years ago was missing. She waved her hand in his face. “You thief! Where's my wedding ring?"
"I am no thief.” He drew himself to his full height and took a deep breath. His chest expanded to fill her view. “When I found you, you wore no jewelry or—” He paused. “Or clothing. Because of your recent illness, and the trauma you have apparently suffered, I will allow you this one insult. Do not impose again upon my good nature."
"Good nature, my ass.” Dale knew she was being foolish. She had no idea who this man was or what he was capable of, but worry and fear about what had happened to Thea took control of her tongue. She knelt on the bed, but still had to tilt her head up to glare at him. “I haven't begun to insult you ... you arrogant, overgrown oaf!"
Like a vise his hands closed around her upper arms as he jerked her up against him. “You will be quiet, woman,” he roared.
She sputtered into silence, but refused to retreat.
Now you've gone and done it. Her gaze clashed with his. Anger lit his dark eyes as he stared down at her. His fingers pressed into her flesh like a heated brand. The fact that his relentless grip didn't hurt, told her a lot about his character. This was a man who tempered great strength with restraint. Her father and Steven had both done the same.
Without realizing her intent, she had set him a test. He passed. Some of her concern melted away.
As if he sensed her submission, his look took a heated turn. Where before he gripped, his fingers now stroked. Frissons of pleasure shot up her arms. A slow seductive grin curled his well-shaped lips.
Without thinking she put her hands on his shoulders to push his away and the bed fur slipped down around her hips, leaving her naked in his embrace. His warm earthy scent surrounded her. The soft cotton of his shirt brushed her nipples into sensitized awareness.
"Does the sting of your sharp words conceal a sweet honey?"
"Now wait a minute. You've got the wrong idea. I..."
His lips captured the rest of her protest. Soft yet firm, they moved over hers in a tantalizing way, cajoling and demanding.
No man had been this close to her since Steven's death, and needs she'd ignored for over seven years erupted inside her. Flames licked to life deep in her belly
The heat of his fire threatened to consume her, but like the Phoenix she knew she'd emerge from this inferno reborn. His mouth trailed down her throat toward her aching breasts. Satisfaction hovered a breath away.
No! She couldn't allow him to distract her from finding Thea.
She yanked herself from his arms and kicked out at him. But her reflexes were off. Instead of hitting his groin her foot struck air and, thrown off balance, she toppled back onto the bed.
Surprised by her unexpected response, Raf backed away. She pulled the furs over her flushed body. With her eyes squeezed shut, she curled into a ball. He resisted the urge to stroke the hair from her face.
Confused and aroused, he paced the small chamber. This Dale was a puzzle. Prickly as a needle bush, yet as responsive to his touch as the sensitive toca plant, she lured a man then stung him.
His actions shamed him. Honor demanded he apologize for taking advantage of her, but pride spiked his tongue. Her response to his kiss had not been forced. Even now his body urged him to join her in bed, to pull her beneath him and bury himself in her warm, wet depths. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, and her scent clung to his clothing, leaving him hungry for more. Not since he was ten and seven had he lusted so quickly after a woman.
Memories of Jemel and her calculated treachery, flooded back. Painfully learned lessons cooled his ardor. Women, especially beautiful ones, were not to be trusted. A wise man enjoyed, appreciated, teased, cajoled, maybe even pampered a woman, but he never let one close enough to strike a fatal blow.
What was it about this woman that had slipped her under his usual guard? Was it her small deceptively fragile appearance? Or just the fact that he'd found her alone and helpless that stirred his protectiveness? He refused to reflect on his attraction to her. He would be wise to not judge her on looks. Her sharp tongue alone could flay a man alive. She was like the nika blossom, a delicate, sweet scented, lethal flower. To keep from reaching for her again, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
His fingers closed around warm crystal. Memory of another crystal teased him. Despite what he had seen and heard four annum ago, he dismissed the claim of his friend, Ash. People could not travel from world to world.
What he held was naught but a piece of milk crystal. Found in deposits close to the surface throughout Dramon, Mardelan and Arete, milk crystal was the most common of crystals. This piece's jagged edges scraped his palm. Strange, milk crystal was usually hard, not soft and crumbly.
Another thought chilled Raf's blood and drove away idle speculation about the stone's properties.
The slaver, Stefan Devros often used small pieces of etched crystal to identify strangers he wished to do business with. Raf carried the piece he'd taken off a man Devros had yet to meet. The piece would give him access to the elusive slaver and help Raf destroy him.
In her delirium, Dale had mumbled a familiar name—Stefan. Was she a spy for the slaver?
He studied the bit of milk crystal, but he found no evidence of Devros’ mark.
Devros was well known for his cunning and his ability to vanish into the mountains. Few were allowed close to him, and fewer were given his trust. He demanded complete loyalty, constantly testing those who worked for him. Raf had seen the remains of men who Devros believed, rightly or wrongly, had crossed him. The consequence of earning Devros’ mistrust would be painfully fatal.
If she was Devros’ spy, Raf had to deliver her to the slaver or lose the chance to get close to the man. But if he were wrong, he would be sacrificing her to a living death—one he had experienced himself.
"Shadow?"
Keeping his face i
mpassive, Raf looked at the woman crouching on the bed, but he didn't answer. He didn't trust his voice not to crack and waver like an untried lad's.
"I want ... I need to ... explain. Ah, damn.” She bit her lip and ran an impatient hand through her hair. The ends stood up around her face like the pale yellow spiked flowers of the toca plant. “But do you think I could have some clothes first?"
Raf's lips started to twitch. His little spy was shy. He coughed to hide his unwanted amusement. How could she take him from lust to anger to laughter all within minutes? She was his captive. So why did she captivate him?
She peered at him. “Are you laughing at me?"
"Of course not,” he managed to choke out. Squashing his smile with a forced frown, he pulled a shirt and pair of trousers from his bag and handed them to her. “Here."
She would drown in his large garments, but at least they would conceal her body from his gaze. Maybe then he could root her from his thoughts.
She snatched the items from his hand and dove under the bed covers. “Thanks."
As he watched, the furs rippled from her contortions as she dressed beneath them. He could no longer restrain his smile.
"There, that's much better.” She popped out from under the fur. If possible her hair stood even further out from her head. Now, the tangled fluff around her head resembled the pale gold nimbus of light that surrounded the Eternal One's seraphs. But she looked far from pious.
His oversized clothing should have hidden her attributes instead they were enhanced. His shirt, even though she'd done the buttons up to the neck, hung on her slender frame, exposing nearly all of one smooth shoulder and the slope of her breast. The black color emphasized the warm creamy glow of her skin. The shirt reached down to her knees, but it bunched up at her middle, where she gripped the waistband of the trousers in her hand.
Dressed this way, she would fetch a sizeable sum on the slave auction block. Presented naked, the proceeds would allow a man to retire. Holding her fate in his hands left him torn between conscience and honor.
"Do you have a belt?” she asked.
"Will this do?” He gave her a length of braided rope.
"Yes, thanks.” She threaded the rope around her waist and tied it. “Do you think I could have some of whatever it is you're eating? It smells delicious. I'm starved, and explanations always taste better on a full stomach.” She looked longingly at the bowl on the table.
He followed her gaze to the now cold stew. “Yes, of course. Come to the table.” He held out his hand to assist her from the high box bed, but she scooted just out of reach and off the bed unaided.
She smoothed her hair with her hand, but otherwise seemed oblivious to her appearance. Bold and brash, yet cautious and shy, this woman was a mystery wrapped in a riddle.
"This is wonderful. What is it?” she asked after she'd finished her second bowl of stew, three thick slices of bread slathered with rich haxa butter, and two steaming mugs of gana.
For a small woman, she had a healthy appetite. “What it appears, vegetable meat stew, bread and gana."
"What kind of meat is this? I've never tasted anything quite like it."
His stomach tightened as he watched her lick the grease from her fingers. “Haxa."
"Is that a type of cow? Never mind, it doesn't matter. I think it's time we talked. I need some answers."
Raf settled back in his chair. The woman had the attitude of someone used to being in command. He doubted anyone had ever ordered her around. To make a slave of her, her spirit would have to be not only broken, but also crushed.
Devros was known to have a weakness for strong women. Whether she was Devros’ spy or an unfortunate innocent, Raf knew he could use her to get close to the man. The idea stirred to life a conscience he thought he'd buried annum ago. He quashed the tender bud before it could blossom. He could not consider the fate of one woman over the outcome of his mission.
The slavers’ activities caused chaos in a country already on the brink of collapse due to a corrupt dictator and a lengthy, bloody civil war. Dramon's tenuous political situation left it ripe for an invasion by its neighbor, the country of Blagden.
Though filled with flaws and risks, his posing as a slaver wanting to join forces with Devros was their last chance to help stabilize Dramon's government. All other attempts to find and rout out Devros’ slaving operation had met in failure.
Raf had at most three tendays to locate Devros and lead Dramon's remaining troops to wipe him out. After that it would be too late to halt either the slavers or the invasion. If Dramon fell, Blagden would next cast its covetous eyes on Mardelan. Raf vowed to never let that happen.
"As I told you, I have no answers to how or why you are here. Perhaps it is I who should ask the questions."
"Okay, I'll answer your questions if you'll answer mine. What do you want to know?"
Shadow's features lost their amused look, and a hard dangerous glint filled his eyes. Dale suppressed a shudder and met his gaze without flinching. She sensed this man would admire strength and courage. He would pity and disdain begging or weakness. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his help. She had to get back to Thea.
At first, she'd wanted to believe he was responsible for everything, but her memory of the lightning and those moments afterward were too clear. Not given to flights of fancy like Thea or her artistic sister, Cathy, Dale considered what had happened.
Was she dead? Dreaming? In a coma? No, she felt very much alive and aware. And Shadow's presence was too real to be part of a bizarre dream. As unlikely as it seemed the only explanation was that somehow Cathy's necklace and the lightning had catapulted her into another world.
Was this what had happened to Cathy? Hope flickered to life in Dale's heart. Could Cathy be in this world? And if she were here could she help Dale get back home to Thea before it was too late?
Shadow's hard gaze made Dale falter. What should she tell him? To stall, she picked up the handmade deck of cards from the table. Her breath caught in her throat. The drawings were Cathy's work. Dale flipped through the deck, studying the beautifully drawn images that reflected the imaginary world Cathy had created with her art.
Had Cathy been in this cave? But if she was still alive why hadn't she come home?
"Where did you get these cards?"
"They were here in the cave when I came. Why?"
"They're beautiful.” Dale wanted to demand answers but caution stilled her tongue. Though he hadn't hurt her she couldn't trust Shadow yet.
Thea had always insisted that Cathy was alive—that she'd somehow entered the imaginary world she'd created with her art. More than once Thea claimed that the beautiful mural in Cathy's studio, now Thea's scientific lab, had changed. Though Dale never saw the changes, the realistic mural always made her uneasy.
If she could find Cathy maybe together they could discover the way home. Time was running out for her daughter. Though dialysis was working now, Thea's kidney disease was progressive. To survive she needed a transplant and Dale was a perfect match.
What must Thea be thinking, feeling? Everyone in her life was gone. Tears burned the back of Dale's eyes.
"Where are you from?"
The suspicion in Shadow's question pulled Dale out of her thoughts. If she were in another world, was it wise or safe to tell him everything? She didn't want to find out how this place might treat people they believed insane. “Council Falls.” Telling him the name of the town seemed safe enough.
"I have never heard of this place."
"I'm not surprised, it's a small town a long way from here"
His gaze grew even colder. “"What do you remember of how you came to be here?"
"Not much. I was standing by the river with Thea."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes. She's why I have to get home. She needs an operation. Without it she'll die. I have to be there.” Talk of Thea softened the harsh glare in Shadow's eyes.
"What happened?"
"I
'm not sure. I held up the necklace to throw it away ... Hey, where is it?"
He shook his head, but his gaze did not meet hers. “Why were you throwing your necklace away?"
"It was a symbolic gesture. A way of closing the door on something in my past.” She didn't want to go into detail with this man about her feelings for Cathy. Nor was she ready to reveal what she feared might have happened to Cathy and herself.
"Continue."
"I must have dropped it when the lightning struck me. There was a lot of color and sound, and then I passed out. I don't remember anything more until I woke up in your bed.” Heat rose up her throat at her memories of not only being naked in his embrace, but her response to him. “Now, it's my turn to ask a few questions. You say you're called Shadow, do you have another name?"
"Shadow is the only name you need know. I, too, have closed the door on my past."
"Fair enough. What are you doing here? And exactly where is here? I know, this is a spinmaster's cave,” whatever the hell a spinmaster is, “and we're in the Azul Mountains,” wherever the hell that is, “but I still haven't got a clue where I am?” If she voiced her suspicions, he would think her crazy?
Get a grip, girl, she cautioned herself. You've been watching too many sci-fi movies.
"The Azul Mountains are in the country of Dramon, on the northern hemisphere of Tareth.” Sarcasm tinged his voice.
"Oh, my God,” Dale whispered. Tareth. Shock rippled through her. She was on another world. She'd been abducted by aliens. She peeked at him from below her lowered eyelids. Was he an alien? He looked human enough. “Where are you from?"
Shadow's brow puckered in thought. “I am from the country of Arete."
"What are you doing here then?"
"I think there have been enough questions. You do not look well.” Concern etched his face as he leaned toward her.
You wouldn't feel so hot either if you'd just transported to another world, she thought. She needed to think. Thea had to be her first concern. She had to get home, but she also wanted to find Cathy. Before she made any decisions about what to do, she had a lot to consider.
Shadow Moon Page 2
