by L. S. O'Dea
In less than a second he was leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders. Mirra rose to all fours, hair bristling down her back.
“Where have you seen our kind?” He grabbed her under her arms and lifted her in the air. “Tell me.”
“Be nice, Gaar-Mine.” Mirra growled.
“In..in..in a camp.” Why had she opened her mouth? Travis always told her that she talked too much.
“Where? What camp?” Gaar glared at her.
“I can show you. Travis and I found it when we went looking for our brothers.” She trembled in his grasp.
“Down. Put Little One down.” Mirra growled again.
He glanced at the Tracker and then gently lowered Trinity to the ground. “Mirra, she says that she’s seen others like us.”
“Show us, Little One.” The hair on Mirra’s back lowered.
“Tell us about it.” He walked back to his chair and sat.
Mirra crouched at his feet.
“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” On shaky legs she sank to the ground. “One day while searching for our brothers, Travis and I wandered far away from the fence line and discovered another camp. Inside were...Trackers. We didn’t know what they were but we heard a Guard call them Trackers.”
Gaar met Mirra’s gaze. He ran his hand down her back. “How come we’ve never found it? We should have been able to smell them.”
“I...I don’t know.”
“I’ll assume that you aren’t lying, since you don’t seem suicidal.” His eyes narrowed.
She shook her head. “I’m not. I swear.” She prayed that the camps were still there.
“How do they keep the Trackers there?” he asked.
Mirra was not going to like this. “Chains.” She winced, waiting for the attack.
Mirra jumped up and began to pace. “That no good. Trackers no be chained.”
“Settle down. We’ll go. I promise.” Gaar reached out and stroked Mirra’s arm.
She breathed heavily. Mirra was not coming after her. She rattled on in her relief. “The day that we were there, they unleashed one of the Trackers and brought in a Handler. They put the two together in a cage.” She clasped her hand over her mouth. She could have skipped that part.
“What happened?” he asked gruffly.
“They fought.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “The Handler killed the Tracker. Then the Guards couldn’t control the Handler so they killed him.” The thud of wood smashing against flesh and the accompanying screeches of pain reverberated in her memory.
Gaar tightened his jaw and Mirra hissed.
“We go. You take us,” said Mirra.
They weren’t going to kill her, at least not yet. She nodded and stood.
“Not right now.” said Gaar. “Later.”
Mirra bristled but nodded her agreement, curling up on the foot of Gaar’s bed.
She lay down on the ground, still trembling slightly.
Gaar took a fur from the corner and laid it over her. “Do you know where the Handler came from?”
“We thought the Guard might lead us back toward our home. We followed him. He went to another camp. They had Handlers there.”
“Was it like the Tracker camp?”
She didn’t want to answer but his black eyes forced the truth. “They were kept in cages not on chains, but yes.”
He grunted and walked to his bed.
She exhaled softly. She was still too tense to rest. Slowly, the fire died, giving way to the darkness. A few embers sparked their protest. First Mirra and then Gaar succumbed to sleep. Gaar’s loud snores echoed through the room interspersed by Mirra’s soft whimpering.
Her mind raced. Tomorrow, they would travel back toward her encampment. Could she sneak away? Probably not. Could she convince them to take her to the Finishing Camp? She could refuse to take them to the Tracker and Handler camps unless they agreed to help her. Gaar snorted loudly, his large shape lying still under the furs as Mirra’s form twitched in her sleep. Who was she kidding? She could ask them, but she couldn’t refuse them, not unless she was willing to risk her life. She had five days left. She had to find a way to persuade them to help her and then to let her go home.
CHAPTER 4
TROY FORCED HIS EYES OPEN. All he wanted was to bury his aching head under the blankets, but his mate was standing next to the bed, one hand on his shoulder and the other rubbing her protruding belly. “Tina, what’s the matter?”
“There’s a Guard here to see you.” Her brown eyes were wide with fright.
He jumped out of bed. Jackson had finally returned with Trinity. He’d expected the Guard to find her yesterday or at least last night. He couldn’t wait to see Remy and give him the news. He pulled on a pair of pants and shirt and headed for the door.
“Why is the hairless Guard here? Is everything okay?” She trailed after him, peppering him with questions.
He wanted to shout at her to shut up, but that would bring tears, especially in her condition. He stopped and faced her. He’d never understand how some could find the large milk-laden breasts and widening hips of a pregnant female beautiful. He struggled to hide his disgust as he bent and kissed her softly on the lips. “Don’t worry. Go back to the kitchen and leave everything to me.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, but stopped her as she turned to leave. “No one needs to know that there was a Guard here.” His tone held a warning; no one gossiped as much as Tina.
“Of course. I won’t say a word.” She ducked her head and he dropped his hold. She scurried toward the kitchen.
He opened the front door. Jackson stood in the shadows of the cabin.
“You can’t be here,” he whispered harshly. “I’ll meet you at the large oak tree on the west side of the encampment.” He shut the door in the Guard’s face. His brother was on duty in that isolated section of the camp and knew how to keep his mouth shut. He ate a slice of bread with jam, giving Jackson time to get out of sight and then left his house.
The sun was bright but already on its descent. It had to be mid-afternoon. He’d slept longer than he’d thought. He shouldn’t have taken that second draught of valerian. Millie had told him that this batch was strong, but he’d needed to sleep. Last night had been a disaster. He and Remy had spent the entire time fighting. Remy was sick with worry over Trinity and they had other issues to consider as well. Millie would be retired this year. She hadn’t gotten pregnant in over five years and that didn’t look good for her or Remy. He had to persuade the other Lead Producers and Benedictine to re-pair Remy not to retire him. Of course, this meant that Remy would need to breed with his new assigned mate and Remy swore that he couldn’t do that.
That had escalated the argument. Troy managed to breed with his mate enough to keep her pregnant. It wasn’t something that he enjoyed, but he did it. Remy could too. Otherwise, he would have to find another female who was willing to keep their secret. That was not going to be easy, plus she’d still need to bear offspring so someone would have to mate with her.
He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and ducked behind a bush. He’d travel the rest of the distance near the fence, hidden by the overgrown vegetation. It would not be wise for him to be seen speaking in private with the hairless Guard. He did not need any enemies. Some were already suspicious of him and Remy. He stopped near Jackson who lurked in the shadows by a large tree.
“Where is she?” he asked the Guard.
“We lost her. We had her scent. We were right on top of her and then”—Jackson snapped his fingers—“she was gone.”
“What do you mean she was gone? She must have left scent somewhere.” This could not be happening. It would mean the end for Remy. If someone found out about this, the Almightys would hold Remy and Millie responsible. They would be punished severely.
“We searched and there was nothing. She just disappeared.”
“Then search again,” he said.
“We did. There is no new trail.”
“
You owe me,” said Troy. “Or do you want Benedictine to find out that you have feelings for his daughter.”
“He can only kill me once. The reason makes no difference.” Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe, I’ll run. Benedictine will come after me but I’d have some freedom first. I’ve never had that before; it might be nice.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. We both know you won’t run. Sure, you can only die once, but what will Benedictine’s daughter’s life be like when it becomes common knowledge that the necklace she wears so lovingly was a gift from a Guard?”
In a flash, he was flying through the air. He landed on his back, hard, with Jackson on top of him. He jerked upright, Jackson’s hands closing around his throat. He slammed his fists into the Guard’s head and torso but Jackson held firm. He tried to pry the Guard’s hands away, but it was no use. He opened his mouth, gasping for air.
“Don’t ever threaten her.” Jackson dropped his hold and stood.
He inhaled deeply, sweet oxygen filling his lungs. That had been unexpected but enlightening. He stood, brushing dirt off his clothes. The Guard still had strong feelings for the girl. It had been years, so he hadn’t been sure. He’d tuck that away for use later. “I wasn’t threatening her.”
Jackson snarled at him.
“Really, I wasn’t. I only meant that Benedictine is unpredictable.” Push the blame toward the Almighty. Benedictine was known for his temper.
“Benedictine would never hurt his children.”
Jackson knew the Almighty better than most. “Perhaps not the boy, especially with his handicap, but a daughter’s betrayal is different. It’s hard for a father to see his little girl become a woman, particularly when she’s looking in the wrong direction.” He cocked a brow.
Jackson moved closer, a low rumble in his chest. “There is nothing between Kim and me.”
“I didn’t say that there was.”
“Don’t mention it again. Ever.” Jackson stepped back several paces.
He nodded, holding back a smile. There were definitely feelings involved. It seemed he wouldn’t be losing his hold over the Guard with this favor after all, but first he had to find Trinity. He clenched his jaw. Begging was going to kill him but he’d do anything for Remy. “Please, search again.”
“You know, something might have gotten her,” said Jackson, studying him.
“Please. There is nothing dangerous out there.” He snapped his mouth shut. It was one thing to doubt the stories about the creatures in the woods; it was another to admit that to Benedictine’s Lead Guard. A lie’s purpose was belief. The Almighty would not be happy to find it was no longer performing its function
Jackson moved closer to him and spoke in a whisper. “Between you and me, it wouldn’t go well for anyone here if Benedictine discovers that you no longer fear the forest.”
Their eyes met and held. The Guard wasn’t joking and he wasn’t threatening. It was a warning, pure and simple.
Jackson took a step back. “We’ll make one more sweep of the forest, but if there is no trail there isn’t much we can do.” He turned and strode away toward the gate.
Troy had to accept the fact that she might not be found or she might already be dead. The forest may not be full of predators but it wasn’t without dangers. He had to plan for her death. He could not lose Remy.
He headed back toward camp in the opposite direction from Jackson. He had to figure out what to do if the Guard didn’t find Trinity. Perhaps, there was a way to put all the blame on Millie. There was no reason that both parents should be punished and it was Millie’s fault. She should have kept better track of her daughter.
He approached a group of teenagers near the center of town. It was Clarabelle and her friends. They stopped talking, only a quiet giggle breaking the silence as he passed.
“She should be reported for attacking Randy, not allowed to hide in her hut.” Clarabelle’s voice was deliberately loud.
He stopped. He should continue walking but he couldn’t. He was angry with Trinity for using his section of the fence to escape, but the real villains were these kids. They had picked on Trinity her entire life. They needed to be taught a lesson. His hand caressed the club at his side, lingering on the cold stone at the top. It had been the only gift he’d ever received from his father. “Excuse me. What did you say?”
“I only said what everyone is thinking.” Clarabelle smiled at him, but her eyes were hard.
It was the wrong day to mess with him. He strode forward, grabbing Randy by the shirt collar and pulling him close. “I know what you did to Trinity and if I can convince Remy and Millie to report it, I’ll bring both of you up on charges.”
“I...I didn’t do anything,” said Randy. “She attacked me. First, she bit me and then, she cut me with something.” He held out his arm, showing the scratch.
He was going to beat the crap out of this kid. Trinity must have been really scared. She’d been in tight spots before and she’d never used her claws and fangs. He lifted Randy off the ground by his throat. “So, you like picking on those littler than you. Well, guess what? So, do I.”
Randy gasped for air, his feet kicking.
“Daddy, stop him,” screamed Clarabelle as she pulled on Troy’s arm.
“Put him down,” shouted Bell.
He dropped Randy and turned to face the older Producer. “You know what these two did. You know they should be punished.”
“He’s lying, Daddy,” said Clarabelle, hugging Randy.
“I know nothing. I wasn’t there and neither were you.” Bell’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so concerned? It wasn’t your daughter. Is there a reason for your unusual attachment to Trinity and her fath...family?”
He had to be careful. Bell was being less subtle than usual. He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have touched the boy.” In front of witnesses and especially near your house.
Bell studied him a moment. “Come with me.” The older Producer walked toward his hut.
He followed. This was all he needed to top his day, a lecture from Bell. He’d loathed the older Producer for as long as he could remember. Bell had been a bully as a child and age and influence had not improved his disposition.
“Why was the hairless Guard at your home?” Bell asked once they were away from the teenagers.
He should have expected this. Gossip ran rampant in camp. He threw out the first thing that came to his mind. “There were noises outside my area of the fence the other night.” Unlikely, but plausible.
“Why didn’t you notify the other Lead Producers before sending for the Guards?”
That was a bit tricky. He had to think and think fast, but he was good at making up stories. “I didn’t believe it was anything at first. It was just some slight movement in the brush. I mentioned it to a couple of Guards who were loading the produce and they told their boss. I guess, there’ve been reports of odd tracks in the forest and the Guards wanted to check it out.” He struggled to keep his face impassive. “You know how seriously they take our safety.”
“Yes, of course.” Bell’s eyes locked with his.
Bell didn’t believe him but it didn’t matter. Jackson wouldn’t talk. He turned and strode away. It was unlikely that Bell would side with him on re-pairing Remy. He’d been digging for secrets on the other Lead Producer for years, but always came up empty handed. Clarabelle walked past him, arm entwined with Randy’s, and gave him a smug smile. Perhaps, he’d been searching in the wrong place. Bell’s very naughty daughter could give him the leverage that he needed.
CHAPTER 5
TRINITY GROANED AND PULLED the blanket over her head. Whatever Mom was cooking smelled delicious, but she didn’t want to move. It was warm and comfortable under the soft fur. Fur? She didn’t own any fur. She yanked the blanket down. She wasn’t home and she wasn’t safe.
“Sleep well?” asked Gaar.
She sat up and nodded, her eyes drawn to Mirra who lay in the corner, gnawing on som
ething gross. She wasn’t sure what it was but it had been alive until recently by the blood on the Tracker’s face and paws. She quickly turned away. Gaar stirred something in a pot over the fire. Her stomach rumbled.
He handed her a bottle of water and a plate filled with fruits and nuts.
“Thank you.” She set the water to the side and the plate on her lap, but her eyes kept drifting back to the pot over the fire. “What are you cooking? It smells really good.”
“It’s not for you,” he said.
Well, that’s rude. She stared at the plate, overflowing with food. She should be grateful. It was more than she’d get in an entire day at home.
He sighed. “You wouldn’t like it. Producers don’t eat meat.”
She didn’t know what meat was, but she was willing to try anything that smelled that good. She glanced up at him. “I might.”
He shrugged. “You are half House Servant.” He took his knife and speared a small chunk of something brown out of the pot. He placed it in a bowl and sliced it in half. He handed her the bowl.
The inside of the lump was pink. She sniffed it, wrinkling her nose. It didn’t smell as good up close. “What is it?”
“Rabbit. Mirra caught several this morning.”
Now, that she knew what it was she could make out a few ears still attached to hunks of fur near the Tracker. She focused on the bowl, nudging the meat with her finger. It was kind of springy. “Guards eat meat, don’t they?” The Producers set traps to keep the rabbits out of their fields and traded the carcasses to the Guards. Her mom used to make her do it, until she’d figured out that if she sprayed her plants with a tonic made from hot peppers, it kept the rabbits out of her fields better than the traps.
“Yes. Everyone does except Producers and Grunts.” He watched her closely.
She handed him the bowl. She liked rabbits. She’d even raised a few orphans. She wasn’t going to eat one. “You’re right. I don’t think I’d like it.”
His lips twitched as he took the bowl. He grabbed the morsels and tossed them in his mouth. When he was done chewing, he said, “Mirra and I had a long talk while you slept.”
