by Anna Hackett
“D’jar.”
Winter grimaced. D’jar was a drink that tasted like black sludge. It was like week-old coffee mixed with tar. She guessed barbarians drank it three times a day just to prove how badass they were.
She dried off and pulled on fresh clothes. As she pushed the curtain aside, a very naked Nero brushed past her. She headed to the small table with the drinks and food, and started brewing the d’jar in a small pot on a burner. Nero didn’t bother to close the curtain, and she had a perfect view of him as he washed.
Mesmerized, she watched rivulets of water slide over his muscles. She watched one small stream slip over the washboard abs.
“Winter?” His voice was amused. “I think the d’jar is ready.”
She jerked and saw the pot was close to overflowing. “Right.”
She poured the drink for him, and some juice for herself. He was dressing now, pulling on his trousers. She hated seeing all those muscles covered up. Her mouth went dry, her head filling with delicious memories of exploring those muscles.
“Winter, you keep looking at me like that, we’ll be late,” he said. “Galen will storm in here and get a view of me fucking you.”
Shaking her head, she finished making the drinks and preparing a plate of breakfast snacks—some sweet rolls, meats, fruits, and nuts. She popped some nuts in her mouth, and then made short work of packing her bag and med kit.
“Here, I have something for you.” Nero stepped up beside her, and started wrapping some fabric around her neck. “You lost the other scarf in the fight with the swarm.”
She fingered the piece. It felt like the softest silk.
“The edges are trimmed with balica fur,” he told her. “I know you enjoy feeling different textures.”
She felt the downy fur now, wondering what color it was. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen the way you stroke different fabrics and surfaces.” He smiled. “It’s fueled a few fantasies.”
He’d noticed the tiniest thing about her. She took a hasty sip of her juice. Keep it cool, Winter.
“I can feel that the suns will be scorching today.” Nero pulled the fabric up over her head. “This will help protect that pale skin of yours.” He stroked her skin. “I would hate to see it burned.”
Her breath hitched. God, how could she want him again?
He pressed a slow, hard kiss to her lips. “After this mission, I look forward to you using me for sex again.”
She licked her lips. “Me, too. I have lots of other things I want to do.”
His fingers tightened on her. “I look forward to them.”
They finished packing up and drank their drinks together.
It felt so…normal. She could almost forget that she was in a desert oasis on an alien planet, on the far side of the galaxy, drinking with a barbarian gladiator who’d been inside her all night.
Winter’s hand shook before she firmed it. She’d made a promise to herself that she’d make a life here, that she would enjoy herself. Nero would be a part of that.
But for now, her friends were her focus.
When they stepped outside the tent, it was still early, the first of Carthago’s large suns just pulling itself over the horizon. But Nero hadn’t been wrong, it was going to be hot. She could already feel the heat in the air.
They met the others by the tarnids. Winter tried to act normally, like she hadn’t spent the vast majority of the night naked with Nero. No one looked at her with a knowing gaze, or yelled “ah-ha!” at her.
Blaine was attaching saddlebags to his beast. He wore his leather trousers, and a harness across his chest. He looked fine, and none the worse for wear after the night’s attack. He glanced her way and smiled. She smiled back. He didn’t look like a security officer from Earth, anymore. He looked like he belonged here, a gladiator of the House of Galen.
Winter turned and spotted Blue standing not far from the animals, eyeing them with a scowl. He was shifting his feet in the sand. Clearly, he was eager to go.
“Blue? How are you today?”
He lifted those tortured eyes to hers. “I want to go. I want to find Mia.”
“We are going now.” Hesitantly, she reached out, touching his arm. He let her touch him, and didn’t pull away.
“You smell of the barbarian.”
“Oh.” Heat in her cheeks. “Well, I rode with him—”
For the first time, she saw a slight twist of Blue’s lips, like he was trying to smile. “I see the way you look at him.”
She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “A lot of the time, he drives me crazy.”
“He watches you, too.”
Warmth spread through her belly.
Nero appeared. “Time to mount up.”
Winter was sure her flush deepened. Nero led her to their tarnid, and lifted her onto the back of the beast. A second later, his big body settled in behind hers. Branda had come to see them off, her amazing facial tattoos clear in the morning light. Then Galen and Corsair—on his quick, two-legged beast—led their group out across the drawbridge.
The desert lay ahead—harsh and unforgiving. Corsair turned them to follow a trail only he could see, and headed in the direction of some giant dunes in the distance. Soon the tarnids broke into a quick trot, and they left the Tent City Oasis behind them.
As they rode, the rising suns built the heat to outrageous levels. Winter pulled her head scarf up over her face, thankful for the cover. Soon, she saw the shimmer off heat of the ground. Every now and then, she glanced around, half expecting to see a swarm of robots incoming.
But there was just the clear, pale-blue sky of the hot day.
She enjoyed having Nero’s arms around her and listening to the conversation of the gladiators around her. They joked, teased, talked tactics—they were a family. All brought together by one man. She eyed Galen’s strong form ahead. An enigma, that one. He was the center of his House, and yet, she felt like he also kept himself separate at the same time.
A man who took care of others, took on the troubles of others, and asked very little in return.
“We’re getting close to desert wraith territory,” Nero said.
She looked around and only saw sand. The same thing she’d seen for the last few hours. “How can you tell?”
“Some very faint trails in the sand. They’ve been masked, but I can just make them out.”
Of course, he could.
Soon, she saw Corsair and Galen straighten in their saddles, pointing ahead. She strained to see what had grabbed their attention. It took a few more minutes, but then she saw the rock formations.
She leaned forward, staring at them. Each one was tall and made of bands of twisted rocks. Some forked off, with arms reaching in different directions. She got the impression of a forest made of stone.
Soon, they reached the rocks, and the tarnids passed the first formations. The wind whistled through the rocks and a sense of hushed reverence fell over Winter.
Nero’s arm tightened on her. “The rocks are made of bands of different colors. At the base, they’re very red, then they move through browns and creams.”
She smiled to herself, leaning back against him. Yes, her barbarian could be sweet when it suited him.
“Some of these bands have incredible striations,” he continued. “See that palest band?”
She nodded.
“It’s translucent, almost like glass.”
Suddenly, Blue jogged forward, his head tilted and his hands curled into fists. He made a harsh sound, and then he took off at a fast run, darting through the formations.
“Keep up with him,” Galen ordered.
Nero kicked their tarnid into a fast gallop. Winter held on tight as they sped around the formations, sand flying up behind the tarnid’s hooves.
Ahead, she saw Blue standing still in a small clearing. As Nero jerked the tarnid to a halt, she watched the alien man. He was staring ahead, looking deeper into a section of stone forest, where the roc
k formations were closer together, the shadows deeper.
Corsair slid off his beast and strode over to Blue. “What do you sense?”
Tension throbbed off Blue. “They’re here.”
Who were here? Winter looked around but only saw rocks and sand. Was he talking about Mia and Dayna?
Suddenly a shape detached itself from one of the rock formations. It flowed toward them.
She blinked. The long, lean form had pale skin, which was decorated with the same pattern as the rocks. But as it got closer, the skin tone changed, deepened, and she saw a long fall of dreadlocked hair.
Winter sucked in a breath. A desert wraith.
Nero went stiff as a board, and she heard the other gladiators mutter. There was the sound of swords sliding against leather as the gladiators all pulled out their weapons. Nero reached up and slid his sword from its scabbard.
As she watched, more tall forms appeared from the rocks, all of them holding spears, and what looked like some type of bow. Her pulse jumped. There were hundreds of them.
“We’re surrounded,” Nero ground out.
***
Nero knew it would be easy for strangers to dismiss the desert wraiths. They were tall, but very lean. And their weapons didn’t look particularly high tech, or advanced.
But he knew they were deadly. This was their terrain, and they knew every inch of it. Combined with their camouflage stealth, it made them very dangerous.
Corsair and Galen stepped forward to face the wraiths. Corsair spoke in an unfamiliar language Nero didn’t recognize. It was musical, soft like the wind, and Nero guessed it was the language of the desert.
The wraiths parted, and a figure sauntered forward. The female wraith had the same patterned skin, small, high breasts left bare, and trousers made of a scaled hide. Her hair was a dark, tangled mass streaked with white pigment. She moved like a hunting cat.
Blaine, Saff, Raiden, and Thorin all slid off their tarnids, tense and ready.
Corsair didn’t look back at them, but spoke quietly. “Stay back, and put your weapons away. Raising a weapon here would be a declaration of war.”
Nero’s hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. Every fiber of his being urged him to keep his weapon, that he needed it to protect Winter.
But when Galen nodded, Nero reluctantly slid the blade back in his scabbard.
The female studied Corsair, then spoke in the same musical language. A moment later, Corsair inclined his head.
“What did she say?”
“She complimented me on my morloch.” Corsair nodded at his two-legged animal. “The creatures don’t trust easily.”
Without warning, the desert wraiths all turned and disappeared back into the rock formations.
“We are to follow,” Corsair said. “The tarnids stay here.”
Nero looked unhappily at Lore. His fight partner didn’t look any happier about this development.
“Let’s go,” Galen said.
Nero slid off and looked up at Winter. “Winter—”
“If you are about to suggest I stay here, then you may as well stop now and save your breath.”
He heaved out a breath. It was the response he’d expected, but he’d had to try. He helped her down, and together, the members of the House of Galen followed Corsair into the stone formations.
They followed a narrow, winding path, and eventually came to another clearing. Here, an amphitheater had been cut into the rocky ground. Most of the wraiths were seated, watching and waiting.
The female leader stood in the center, waiting patiently for Galen and the others to join her. When they did, she used her spear to draw two circles in the sand. Then she stepped inside one and gracefully squatted inside it. She gestured.
Galen stepped into the second circle and squatted down.
An older male wraith stepped forward, carrying an animal skin and two cups. He poured whatever liquid was in the skin into the cups and handed them to the woman. She looked up, and Nero saw she had strange, gray eyes. She stared at Galen, and handed a cup to him.
The next few minutes were silent, as Galen and the woman sipped from the cups. Galen didn’t drop dead from poisoning, or react in any way, but Nero knew Galen had a high tolerance to poison—he’d been raised as a royal bodyguard, so testing food was a job requirement.
“We saw your women.” This time the leader spoke in a language their translation implants knew. “One with hair like the midday sun, and another with hair like this rock.” The woman pointed to a brown rock nearby.
“They were alive?” Galen asked. “Healthy?”
The wraith nodded. “But they were not happy.”
“They were taken against their will by this Catalyst.”
The wraith’s face didn’t change, but Nero got the impression the man’s name made her very unhappy. “He is a man who does not respect the desert.” Her voice was low and smooth, but Nero felt a faint chill. “He does not live with the desert, he brings his machines and equipment and forces the land to bend to his will.” Something dark flashed in her eyes. “He came here to hide his atrocities. He lives at the edges of our territory, and ventures in when it suits him. I also believe he is responsible for several of our people vanishing.”
“You know where he lives?” Galen asked. “Is that where he took our women?”
The wraith was silent, swirling her cup. She lifted it to her lips and drank. “The desert wind brings us many tales.”
Winter made a frustrated sound, and slipped away from Nero. He reached for her, but she dodged his hand, and strode forward.
Instantly, desert wraiths appeared, aiming their spears at her. Nero yanked out his sword and stepped in front of her. He heard his fellow gladiators draw their weapons too.
Winter sidestepped around him. “I’m not planning to hurt anyone. I just want to say that my friends are out there. Alone and afraid.”
The wraith leader’s gray gaze settled on Winter.
“We aren’t from your world. The Thraxians abducted us, kept us captive, and these people saved us.” Winter gestured at Galen and the gladiators. “We can never go home.” Her voice hitched. “But I will not let my friends be hurt or abused. They have a right to live. Please, do you know where they are?”
The wraith leader looked at her for a long time. “We saw the women with Catalyst. They were passing through our territory. Whether they are still with him now—” the woman held out her long-fingered hands “—I do not know.”
“Where is he?” Galen asked. “We will search his home and see if our women are there.” He paused. “We will also look for your people.”
“He has a lair, just outside the western border of our territory.” The woman frowned. “I warn you, it is a dangerous place. We have attempted to infiltrate it…but it is protected by strange and deadly technology. I have lost many fighters.”
“Could you draw us a map?”
The desert wraith shook her head, and Nero frowned.
But then the woman set down her cup and stood. “We will take you there.”
Chapter Thirteen
The large, flat-topped mountain rose up from the desert floor against the backdrop of the setting suns.
Heat radiated off the sand, and Winter stared at the mesa. Somewhere there, Mia and Dayna were being held.
A group of desert wraiths, led by the woman, ran ahead of their tarnids. They flew across the sand, running with a light, fluid gait. Blue followed behind them, watching them like a guard dog waiting for an attack.
The mountain got closer. It was made of darker rock, and looked as though it had been thrust up out of the sand. Overhead, birds wheeled around on thermals at a dizzying height.
“There.” The desert wraith leader pointed to one end of the mountain.
Galen held up a hand, and they all pulled their tarnids to a halt. Winter scanned the cliff face and finally saw it. A structure clinging to the side of the hill.
Wow. She hated whoever this Catalyst was, but this
place was striking.
It was made of shiny metal and glass. There were different shapes attached to the side of the mountain—cubes, spheres, discs, and cylinders. Several were butted up against each other, while others were linked by covered walkways. She saw lights glowing in all the windows.
“Who is this guy?” she murmured.
But more importantly, what had he done with Dayna and Mia?
“I don’t give a drak,” Nero said darkly. “He preys on others, and enslaves them. He will pay for that.”
“What did you encounter when you tried to get in?” Galen asked.
The desert wraith stared at the lair, before looking back at the imperator. “Metal beings, enhanced guards with armor and weapons, glowing lights that burned and cause pain.”
“What does he do with all these people he takes?” Winter asked.
The leader shook her head. “We do not know.”
A shiver skittered down Winter’s spine.
“We’ll know soon,” Galen said. “And it will stop.”
“There’s a path up the hill there.” Raiden pointed, his brow furrowed. “But he’ll see us coming.”
Nero stood quietly, studying the structure and the surroundings. Winter watched his face and could almost feel him thinking, assessing.
“We come up from beneath it,” he said.
The gladiators all turned, studying the cliffs below the structure.
“The climb isn’t too far to the lowest level of the building.” Galen’s tone was considering. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Winter blinked and stared at the cliff face. It looked pretty hard to her.
“Let’s do it,” Thorin said, clapping his big hands together.
Galen spun to face Corsair. “I need you to stay here with the tarnids.”
The caravan master’s face hardened. “I can fight just as well as your gladiators.”
“I know.”
A dangerous look crossed Corsair’s usually relaxed features. “I want to help take this sand sucker down.”
“But I need you here,” Galen said. “To be ready to get us out of here when we return…to raise the alarm if we don’t make it out. You need to contact Harper back at the House of Galen. She’ll know what to do.”
