by Owner
Var moved in front of her and went down on one knee. “I want you to touch me.” He took her hand and pulled it to his face. His movements were slow and deliberate. When Bess realized his intent, she tried to pull her hand back.
Though he stopped moving for a moment, when she stopped struggling, he pressed her open palm against his cheek. Var made an effort to clear his mind and relax. Her touch was cool. Was it fear that caused her trembling?
The empath closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were no longer green, but a soft, glowing violet and she was looking into his soul.
Var had never been so vulnerable. He used all of his control to remain open to her. It was an exchange of feelings and he knew with a certainty she also shared some of his memories. Var pulled his hand away when she closed her eyes again.
Bess blinked, but would not meet his eyes. “Th-Thank you for that.”
The warlord was sure she had seen more than he wanted her to see. He would have to deal with that. It was worth it if she believed him now.
“Why?”
“I need you to work with me, little mouse.”
The two of them stayed there as the sun sank low. It turned the sky a flaming shade of red that looked like it would set fire to the limbs of the trees. Her hair was already a flame and he thought he could look at her a long time and never tire of seeing her.
***
Bess had a nightmare that night. It was one of the bad ones. Var usually just talked to her until she stilled. He did not think she remembered them the next day, but tonight was different. She did not immediately quiet this time and his hand touched her bare arm. Violent images assaulted him.
He saw her dream. Bess was tied down on a rough wooden table, her arms and legs were being broken by men with clubs. She suffered terribly. He felt her pain and her thirst and even her anguish at being abandoned to such a horror. They told her to heal herself and she tried. He felt her desolation when she faced her fate. She could not heal herself. Var knelt beside her bed and placed a light kiss on her forehead. The dream vanished like a cloud in the wind. Tears slid down her cheeks. After a time, peace came to her sleep.
Var was certain the dream was a memory for her. Maybe the Facility had been more of an ordeal than any of them had thought.
***
Var followed Bess outside the cabin. She had been preoccupied last evening, but was calmer now. He felt her relief.
“I have decided to help you,” the MX said. “I will not try to hurt myself or run away.”
Var almost smiled. “That is a good decision, little mouse.” She practically bloomed in front of him. He was glad she appreciated his praise. She probably had not had much of that in her life. He had never seen anyone who needed kind words like she did.
“I am glad you will not turn me over to them.” Even the shade of the trees could not dampen the sparkle of her eyes or the fire in her hair.
“You are moving better. I would know if you are ready to travel.”
“Yes, I can travel.”
Var reached his hand out to help her up. He felt it then, when her hand touched his. Her trust was pure and clear and it made his heart swell to bursting.
Chapter 27
Var gave Bess the veil to wear. He thought she was going to argue about it, but she accepted it easily. She tried to tie up her hair, but with her injuries she could not.
Bess bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “I need help, will you, please?”
Var moved behind her to wrap her silken hair. With his hands in the masses of her jasmine scented tresses, he felt too awkward, too clumsy, to help the fragile little thing. She stood there quiet and still while he gathered her hair to bind.
After he hid her hair under the head covering, he helped her with the veil. Var paused with his hand on her nape. She was lovely, her skin soft. He restrained himself from leaning forward and placing a kiss on the side of her neck. It would be enough that she stood still under his touch. He marveled at that, before he pulled his hand away and stepped back.
When she turned to him, he could hold back no longer. He pulled her close and leaned down to place soft kisses on her neck. She clung to him and shattered him with her trust and need.
His urgency for her shocked him. While her bare skin touched his, he felt her emotions. She didn’t understand sex, at least, not like he did. Bess clung to him for safety and security rather than lust, but her need held strength, purity, and raw power.
Var sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. The feeling of her soft, round bottom on his thighs...
A knock on the door startled Bess and jerked him back to the present.
“We are ready to leave.” Mack’s voice came through the door.
Bess stood and turned her back to him as she rearranged her veil and smoothed her clothes.
Var cursed and heard Mack laugh through the door. He should beat Mack down for this interruption.
Bess passed through the door when he held it open for her.
What was she doing to him? Var took a moment to wrestle with his self-control.
Outside, their little group resumed the journey with him in the lead and Mack bringing up the rear. Myra giggled and whispered to Amage.
Now Bess felt different in his arms. As they rode, Var realized she projected to him. He loved knowing how much his touch thrilled her. The connection with Bess amazed him.
After they left the woods, they continued down a wide dirt road. People turned the soil in preparation for planting the fields on either side of the road. The land stretched out before them in gently rolling hills dotted with a farm house here and a barn there. Some of the land had fences that held cattle or sheep in pastures. The grass held the light green of spring and smelled fresh. A deep blue sky extended above them. The road widened and they met a few wagons.
They reached a small town that bustled with activity. At the town store, Amage and Myra went in to help Mack get supplies while Var waited with Bess in front of the store. People rushing to get off the dirt streets before a group of riders caught his attention. Great, Var thought, the local skas who thought they were militia because they had uniforms. They also wore heavy leather and armor, helmets, and assorted weapons and he wondered how they came by the danon for those expenses. Most likely they stole it.
At a saloon beside the store, the skas dismounted and took their time going in. The men were loud and boisterous. One yelled, “Can a man get a drink around here?” A few stragglers still stood around next to the street.
Bess caught the eye of one of the militia. Var felt her move closer and slightly behind him.
One of the riders elbowed a buddy. They changed course and headed towards Var.
The loudest one made a point of trying to see Bess even though she hid behind him. The ska didn’t bother to disguise his lust or to curb his profanity. “Is she for sale, warrior?”
Var moved his chin to indicate negative. He never took his eyes off the rider and hoped his glare convinced them to keep moving.
The MX pressed her breast against the back of his arm, but then took a step back.
“Is she yours?” the man asked.
“She is,” Var answered.
“Is there a chance we could rent her for an hour or two?”
“I do not share.” Var kept his stance relaxed.
“Come on, surely we could have her, for a short time.”
Var kept his silence. He hoped to avoid the fight these men wanted. A fight meant they would tell everyone about the encounter. Their leader would send someone after them. Bess would be in more danger. Var hid his disgust. He was going to have to kill every one of these idiots.
“I have always wanted to dock a woman who wore a veil.” His buddy said.
“What would you have us do warrior? We are in need of a female companion.”
“Find another.”
“Are you saying whores are what we need?” The mouthy one was determined to fight. “You are outnumbered. It hardly seems fair
.”
Some of their gang straggled back outside to check on the excitement.
“I do not repeat myself.” Var kept his voice soft.
The man began pulling his sword. Too slow.
Var’s sword flashed through the air. He twirled it in the side to side motion the warlords used to discourage those foolish enough to want to fight them. It threw the opponent off balance by making them wonder which way the sword would come at them. Right, left, right, the blade swung, sang and stopped. The point of Var’s sword was now close to the man’s throat.
Var kept his voice low. “It is better for you to enjoy a drink with your friends than to spill your blood in the dust of this street.”
The man slowly pushed his sword back into the sheath, took a deep breath and a step back before turning to make his way into the saloon. His friends followed.
Var turned to Bess. She stood trembling.
Mack came out of the store with full saddle bags, Myra and Amage trailing behind him.
“I see you are making some new friends, brother,” Mack said.
“Friends?” Amage said.
Mack smiled. “Yes, it is Var’s sparkling personality. He attracts people. They just love him.”
Var grunted.
The riders came back out, swords drawn.
“See what I mean?” Mack said to Amage before turning his attention to Var and the ruffians. “It appears they think they can take us.” Mack sounded amused.
Var put Bess on the horse. “Do not look.” He said in his quiet voice.
The militia riders poured out of the saloon until they filled the street.
Var and Mack moved between them and the females.
The one who started the trouble was breathing hard and talking fast. “There are only two of them,” he said as he looked around.
Mack nodded at the speaker, smiled, and made a show of taking the match stick out of his mouth. “This one can count, brother. It seems a shame to kill him. He may be the smartest one they have.”
“That one was disrespectful to me,” the militiaman pointed at Var. No one moved.
Mack laughed. “Evidently they do not fight, brother, they point and tattle like children. Perhaps they will try to talk us to death.”
The skas waited. Mack and Var waited. Finally, one of the braver or more foolish of them lunged at Mack. Var was already moving when Mack blocked the sword and then fell into the back-to-back fighting position the warlords trained in so often. Their fighting skills had been honed from years of practice. It felt familiar, it felt right. Everything else disappeared. The noise of the fast growing crowd faded into quiet. Var was aware of the smell of the dust, horses and fear. Surely the skas suspected they were outmatched.
Var stepped into the savagely choreographed battle moves they brought to any who challenged them. He knew what Mack would do before Mack even did it.
The riders relied on their numbers and intimidation. That and the fact they usually fought unskilled and un-armed farmers had made them too cocky.
He and Mack soon overwhelmed the skas. The riders went on the defensive just seconds into the battle, despite the fact that they fought against only two.
Mack finished the last of the attackers with a battle shout. Var’s hearing became acute again. Mack laughed and clapped him on the shoulder as the last body fell to the ground.
Checking the crowd, Var saw no more threats. His eyes immediately searched for the little MX.
She sat on the horse, apart from everyone.
Var gathered the horses and scanned the crowd for Amage and Myra before moving to Bess and mounting behind her. Though he had told her not to look, he knew she had watched.
“Myra and Amage…” Bess began.
“There is no time.” He jerked the reins and they headed out of the small town at a lope.
Bess turned. “I’m sorry, I think that was my fault.”
“Those who seek trouble always find it,” Var said.
“I glanced up and... “
“It does not matter.”
“But, they are… Were militia.”
Beside them, Mack laughed. “Fancy uniforms do not make a militia.”
Var wanted to make Bess feel better, but could think of nothing to say. For all the brutality of the Facility, her life to this point had been a sheltered and sanitized one. Fighting and killing and dying were new to her. He could feel her shock.
He urged his horse off the road when they cleared the town.
Mack followed his lead.
When they came upon a ranch later in the day, Mack arranged for fresh horses.
They rode through the night with only a sliver of moon to aid them. Var and Mack stayed on the road so they could travel faster. As they slowly descended to a lower elevation, the trees grew taller and thicker, and the landscape less open.
Bess leaned against him and slept, albeit fitfully. She dreamed again.
He covered her mouth just in time to muffle her scream with his hand. Var felt her panic when she fought him. He pulled her close against his chest and pressed his lips against her temple. “Shh. You are safe.” Her hair smelled good and her skin was soft against his lips.
He relaxed his hold on her when she stopped struggling.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I think it’s just that I’m tired.”
“I know, little mouse. We must ride all night and take cover in the morning.”
“You and Mack killed them all.”
“We could not allow them return to their base and bring back more militia. Our goal is to keep you safe.”
He felt her guilt then. If only he was better at explaining things to her.
When her heartbeat returned to normal, she began to wiggle.
Var moved her so that he held her sideways.
She leaned back against his arm and turned toward his chest. He knew when she finally relaxed.
He was strong enough to hold her like that for hours, and her ribs would feel better in that position. She was his. His. Mack pulled up beside him. “She is exhausted,” Var said. “The old inn is close and it will be daylight soon. We will stop there.”
At the inn, Mack went in and paid for a room. The old man and woman who ran the place were longtime friends of the warlords, since they had rescued the couple’s daughter years before.
The bath chamber in the room held a large tub. Var filled it with hot water.
Bess had purple circles under her eyes. It had been a long day for her.
“Go on, get in,” he said.
She moved more slowly than usual.
Var stayed in the room while Mack went out to obtain nourishment for them.
Bess had her bath, although it was a fast one.
When she returned in a nightgown he had bought her, he applied ointment to her hand. “It is healing well,” he told her.
He sat with his back against the door and watched her give in to exhaustion. When she fell asleep, he covered her with a blanket and eased away from her.
Mack settled back after they ate. “I will backtrack and see if any militia came after us.”
“The militia are not well liked. I doubt anyone will come after us. With all of them dead, no one in the town is likely to report them missing for a while, if ever.”
Mack pulled out a new matchstick and began to chew it. “The little MX is tired.”
“I think she feels guilty that we killed the militia,” Var said.
Mack frowned. “They wanted to kill her and she feels bad about their deaths. I do not understand females.” He shrugged and then looked thoughtful. “You should claim her, brother.”
He gave Mack a sharp look.
Mack grinned. “Brother, I smell her arousal when you are near her and I smell your reaction to it. Claim her. She wants to be yours.”
Var froze. “I am the Enforcer.”
Mack smiled. “Yes, you are the Enforcer and she is your female.”
***
Var wondered at her. Was it p
ossible she wanted him as much as he wanted her? She had continued to defy him long after most would have given up. Few were strong or foolish enough, to do that. She was a brave little thing. It haunted him because he did not want to frighten her. Normally he enjoyed his status as Enforcer, if nothing else, it kept most at a distance.
It was different now. He wanted to mate with her. She made him feel things he had not believed he could feel. After she watched him and Mack kill the militia ruffians, she projected her sorrow to him.
Koda said Claire had to disengage from a person before they died. If she was mind-linked with them, she felt them pulling her into the dark void and had to let them go alone. Var could not imagine what it must be like to feel that much empathy for another person. The empaths must experience a tortured existence only they could understand.
Bess said she was not a strong empath, but Var could find no evidence that supported her claim. She had told him the Facility had not spent much time training her. She said it was because she was not as strong as the others and not valuable to them. Now Var wondered if the Handlers at the Facility feared her too much to work with her. Perhaps they never figured out how to use her gift of dream sharing.
Then he recalled the dream that left her screaming. Not a dream, a nightmare that repeated itself. People ran and screamed and burned. When and where did Bess witness that? It felt different than the dreams of others. Perhaps someone she met witnessed it. It left its mark on her psyche. She felt the agony of the burning and dying victims. When he touched her while she dreamed of the fire engulfing people, the physical and emotional pain Bess felt from them transferred to him as well. Her terror during that nightmare gushed out to him like raging floodwaters. If he could take that memory away from her, he would. His urge to protect her felt more vital than his next breath.
She leaned against him. Something changed. Bess needed solace from him. Var simply accepted the truth of it and decided to deal with his foreign emotions later. He accepted responsibility for her as part of his job, but it had turned into something more. She was his. He relished his newfound feelings and he would protect her always.
