by Selena Kitt
The governor’s men breathed sighs of relief as she relinquished the weapon. Cass then uncocked the hammer and handed it to Cord. He nodded his thanks and returned it to its rightful place at his hip.
“Your men suck,” he told the major. “She could’ve—”
The major cut him off. “Hope is a pacifist.”
“You’re sure?”
He stared at Hope, who curled her lip at him, before answering. “Not anymore.”
Cord stepped between them, not liking the way he looked at her. “So what’s so important that I get a rifle butt in my head?”
“I apologize for the actions of my men. That wasn’t necessary.”
As if she could understand them, Hope appeared at Cord’s side and reached for his injury. It had stopped bleeding but still stung. He hissed at her and she stumbled back, blinking in surprise.
“Cord,” Cass warned.
He turned his back on both women, pushing aside the hurt he had seen in Hope’s eyes and focused on the major. “I’m a busy man. I got places I gotta be.”
The soldier nodded to Hope. “I need her—”
Cord’s gun was out before anyone could react. “Not gonna happen.”
“—to save the governor.”
Cass turned to the major. “You said it was your father you wanted to save.”
He stared down at her. “The governor is my father.”
Cass sighed as they waited outside the tent that had been hastily erected for the governor. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He seemed so sincere and he knew about her. I really thought—obviously I shouldn’t think.”
Cord grunted his agreement. Thinking caused no end of trouble. He watched Hope as she tried to keep her distance from the tent, but every attempt to step away was thwarted by the armed guard. Not that they’d confiscated his weapons. Confidence born from their overwhelming numbers no doubt.
“If I’d known he shared the same blood as that bastard, I’d have slit his throat while he slept.”
He raised a shaggy brow and asked, “He a client?”
She stared at her feet, unable to meet his questioning look. “Sometimes... well he won’t ever be again.”
Another grunt.
“Look, I thought he might be the last. He said he was going to leave.”
“You love him.”
Cass didn’t reply and he hadn’t meant it as a question. He’d never known Cass to fall for a client, not even a fellow soldier. No one was worth giving her heart to. They were only good for a roll in the hay, sack and/or bunk, but that was as far as it got. So he hadn’t been surprised that she’d taken up the dual roles of peacekeeper and brothel owner in Harris Town. This, though? This was out of character for her.
“Must be something to turn your head.”
She snorted. “Turned it away from you.”
Cord stared at her in astonishment. “I didn’t know.”
“And now that you do?”
He honestly didn’t know. Cass had been a friend since his enlistment in the Corps. She had accompanied him to this hellhole for her own reasons and now that he knew what they were, he wasn’t sure what he should say or do. He glanced at Hope to assure himself his charge hadn’t been taken while he’d been distracted. She’d moved. Where, he didn’t know, not until he felt the subtle tug on his coat sleeve.
“What’re you—”
“Maybe she’s cold,” Cass suggested.
Cord snorted. “I seen her run around in the snow half-naked. She’s not cold.”
“Really? Guess you found another outlet for that pent-up frustration you were suffering from when you last saw me.”
“I haven’t—”
Cass held a hand up to silence him and leaned closer to the opening in the tent. Cord withheld a growl and bent his head to eavesdrop.
The voices on the other side had gone from the low murmuring of bedside conversation to arguing. An argument the major was losing.
“With all due respect, Father—”
“What respect?” an older, reedier voice asked. “What is this respect you speak of? Certainly not yours.”
“She is a good woman. Kind, loving, strong, intelligent. Don’t you want me to be h—”
“No son of mine will ever marry a slut—”
Cord winced.
To his credit though, the major tried to defend Cass. “She’s a peacekeeper.”
“She’s a dammed whore. She’s only good for rutting, boy. That girl I got for you back home is ready and willing to continue the line of succession.”
“And how little did you give her family when you bought her from them? How is that not prostitution?”
An audible slap ended that line of conversation.
“I saved that girl. Don’t you forget who is in charge here.” When silence greeted him, he continued. “I might be weak right now, but that’ll soon change. Do you have her?”
“Yes, but this will probably kill her.”
“Does it look like I care about one lousy Camo?”
“No sir. But what about—”
“That’s a myth. That scientist was spouting nonsense.”
“But what if she can end this long winter?”
“Don’t buy into his magic and fairy tales. This winter is what keeps us in power. It’s what lets us rule. Those peasants need us to take care of them. Without us, without this winter, none of it would matter.”
Cord reached for his weapon, but two feminine hands stopped him. He glared at them both, ready to argue. The major stepped out of the tent, ending the interspecies staring competition.
Three sets of eyes took in the red mark across his face, while his men studiously kept their gazes averted.
Cass reached for him. “Marcus—”
He snatched her wrist and pulled her hand away. To Cord, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t deserve her,” Cord said before ducking into the tent with Hope.
Another slap rang across the desolate landscape before Cass joined them. The major followed at a safe distance.
Hope gripped Cord’s hand tightly.
“I don’t want to be here either,” he said, knowing that she wouldn’t understand, but hoping the sound of his voice would calm her.
The man detested by everyone sat propped up in the luxuriously made bed pallet, watching them approach. His middle was swathed in bandages and his arm was in a sling.
Cord made a quick assessment based on his years in the Corps and those on the planet. “Bullet wounds. Shoulder, nonlethal. Gut shot, long, slow death.”
“You’re very observant. I hear you’re a man of many talents. Talents that I want in my army. But you are wrong about my death.” He smiled up at Hope while she bared her teeth at him, causing him to shudder.
“Remind me to get her a muzzle, boy.”
Cord’s free hand reached for the gun at his hip, but he found the holster empty. He ran his eyes over Hope, but she didn’t seem to have it. When he turned his head to check Cass he noticed the major holding a gun, trained on Hope.
“Save him.”
Hope blinked at the major, unmoved by his request and threat.
“Doesn’t seem to be working,” Cord pointed out unnecessarily.
“Then maybe she needs a better incentive,” he said, changing targets.
Cord stared at the gun now pointed at him. “I don’t—” but his argument abruptly halted when Hope slipped her hand from his. “No. He’s not worth it. I’m not worth it. Crut, we gotta invent a proper sign language for you.”
The anxious silence was broken with the cocking of a second gun. “Felt the odds needed evening.”
“Cass,” both men breathed.
She ignored them and addressed the governor. “How about you die like a man, or I’ll end your line of succession right here. By that, I mean I’ll kill both of you.”
The governor laughed. “You cannot kill my son. You love him.”
“I’m a whore, remember?”
He
wavered for the briefest of moments before lunging for Hope.
“Father!”
Hope hissed as his pain assailed her through the forced connection. Her shoulder and stomach slowly peeled open, mimicking the governor’s wounds.
“Hope!”
“I can’t get a clear shot. She’s in the way!” Cass yelled.
Cord moved to separate the governor from Hope. A bullet whizzed past, grazing his outstretched hand before snapping the governor’s head back. He yanked Hope away, collecting her in his arms and carrying her away from the carnage.
He ignored her shoulder and focused on the oozing wound to her gut.
Hope raised her hand and cupped his bristled face. She watched as his eyes widened and he felt some of her pain as she drew some of his life force into herself, only taking enough to strengthen her healing ability, not enough for him to bleed.
“Take all you need,” he told her around a wince. If she could end winter like the scientist claimed, he could make this sacrifice, for Cass and everyone else on the planet, human and Camo alike. But especially for Hope. She needed to live. The world would be a sadder place without her in it.
Cord watched with mounting horror as her eyes shuttered closed. He tried to keep the connection between them open but her hand had gone limp and dropped from his face.
“No.”
Murmuring behind him reminded him of his surroundings. He lowered Hope reverently to the ground before turning his anger on the man he held responsible.
“Bastard,” was all the warning the major received before Cord applied crushing pressure on his windpipe.
“Cord, no!” Cass screamed as she tried to get between the two men.
He let go long enough to throw a wild punch, which caught her by surprise.
“Now who’s a bastard?” she demanded before clocking him over the head with the butt of his own weapon.
Cord’s hands slipped from the major’s neck as he sunk to his knees and into blackness.
Hope sat at the end of Cord’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall in a gentle rhythm. In deep sleep his body relaxed. During the day he wore his tension around him like a cloak. But when his mind relinquished control, he looked at peace.
He had saved her life. Again. He had given his life force freely and he would have given all of it if she hadn’t stopped him.
She remembered the feel of the bristles on his face when she had cupped his cheek, and the way his eyes had widened when he felt some of her pain through the connection as she had drawn some of his life force into her. She had only taken enough to strengthen her healing ability, not enough for him to bleed. Hope rarely took the life force of another being. They didn’t understand what she was taking from them. Not only were they sacrificing the length of their life, but they were giving themselves to her: their fears, feelings, and a sliver of their very essence.
The girl from the tribe had passed along so many negative emotions, along with an essence that had been tainted. Soiled. The taste Cord had given her was the opposite. Yes, he was rugged around the edges, rough, and he carried a sadness that haunted his waking moments, but there was more to him than that. He also had loyalty to give and a buried passion with an inkling of hope.
Hope knew he had thought she had died. She had seen him attack the other male and Cass knocking him unconscious. While she abhorred the violence these aliens had brought to her world, she now understood the emotions that drove it. Her people shared those emotions. Fear of the unknown, anger at what had been done to them, seen or experienced. They needed to find another way to express those feelings. How though was a mystery yet to be solved. Either way, Cord would help her find it. He was special. And that was why she had pulled away from him. She switched off her mind so her body could redirect her energy to where it was needed, so it could finish healing itself. Now though, after eating and resting she had plenty to spare, and Cord needed to recover. Unfortunately, Cass had undone the healing she had sneakily given him while holding his hand earlier. A brief touch to his temple was enough to repair any damage and rouse him.
Cord snapped back into the land of the conscious. He looked up into the deep penetrating gaze of Hope and frowned. The expression was for two reasons: first, he couldn’t decide what color her eyes were because they kept changing in the dim light; and second, she was supposed to be dead. He’d seen her—felt her—go limp in his arms.
Movement from the periphery of his vision caught his attention, but he wasn’t able to drag his gaze away from Hope’s. She was mesmerizing.
“You’re awake.”
“Did I—”
“Kill Marcus?” Cass finished his question for him. She shook her head. “He’ll live.”
He looked back at Hope who hadn’t moved from her hovering perch above him. “And she’s not—”
Cass raised an eyebrow at the relieved hitch in his voice. “Turns out Camo keep their internal organs in different places to us. Those phantom bullets she got from the governor missed every damn one of them.”
“Thank crut you aren’t human,” he murmured.
“This is all very touching,” a third voice said from the entrance to the tent, “but you have a mission to complete.”
“Major,” Cord acknowledged sourly, still holding him responsible for Hope’s pain and torment. The man’s inability to look at Cass didn’t escape his attention. Those two had issues to deal with. Issues that had nothing to do with him. He had something bigger to worry about: ending winter. Well, that was all up to Hope. All he had to do was get her there. Safely. Easier said than done.
“Your mount is rested, fed, and ready,” he said.
Cord swung his legs over the cot and looked down at his bare feet. He wiggled his toes and wondered where his boots and socks were, not to mention the rest of his...
“Why the crut am I naked?”
He grabbed the blankets and tried to wrap them around himself, trying to hide his half-erect penis from prying eyes. “Get off,” he growled at Hope who was impeding his attempts.
The major coughed while Cass laughed. “We were afraid she might have transferred the injuries to you,” he explained.
Cord checked himself but found nothing worth worrying about. “Well you coulda put them back on.”
“I only have experience undressing men,” Cass reminded him. “I would have let Marcus but he was jealous enough as it was.”
Cord didn’t like the lingering look of appreciation she gave him nor the glare from the major. Spying his clothes neatly folded nearby and his weapons on top, he said, “Be out in a minute. Take her with you,” he added when he saw Hope hadn’t moved.
Keela stamped her large hairy hoof, no doubt impatient to get going. Cord knew how she felt. He reached forward and rubbed her shaggy neck to calm her. After his mount had settled, he pulled Hope up behind him, his pose awkward while she got herself comfortable.
“One last thing,” he called down to Cass and the major, his men already busy dismantling the nearby camp. “Who shot him?”
For the first time since Cord had regained consciousness, the couple looked at each other. “He did,” Cass said with a sad smile.
The major met Cord’s gaze. “I knew he was evil, but he was my father. I guess I didn’t want to believe it. Not until Cass showed me.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “You knew I was setting you up?”
Cord laughed. “She’s not used to smart men.”
With a flick of the reins, they left the couple to reconcile.
Cord and Hope rode in silence for several hours. Cord’s posture eased as Keela’s familiar gait relaxed him. He wanted to get them to the Ashula Mountains sooner rather than later, so the only stops they made were brief. They continued like this for two days before the mountains were discernible on the horizon.
Hope snatched the reins from him and insisted they make camp that night by hopping off Keela and pulling out supplies. Cord relented and slid down the animal’s hairy hide. He stumbled once
but righted himself. He hadn’t ridden Keela this long in years. His legs weren’t used to it but he hobbled his way over to help.
She pushed him to the ground and pointed a finger at him.
“Stay?” he asked, both amused and annoyed at her actions.
He yawned, leaned back on his elbows and closed his eyes to rest. When he opened his eyes again it was dark, except for the embers that glowed in the fire beside him. It seemed he had needed more than a rest after two days of non-stop traveling. Cord pulled back the blankets that had been thrown over him to coax the fire back to life. Satisfied with it, he rolled over and snuggled up to Keela. He froze when he realized the warmth he had felt wasn’t coming from Keela. The animal was there, about an arm’s length from him. Between them lay Hope.
