Dar and Kael actually seemed cautiously happy, as well, either because the improved situation made them more cheerful even though they had to go further and further to hunt every time they went out—or possibly because she was less irritable and easier to get along with.
* * * *
Someone or something was stalking them.
Dar exchanged a long look with Kael and saw the same heightened awareness in his eyes, the same certainty that something dangerous was tracking them.
The scent was confusing. He supposed that could be accounted for by the gusting winds, but it was almost as if two or three different beasts were stalking them.
And one of them was a haden.
Unless he was way off on his guesstimate of where they were, the haden should not be there.
The other beasts … possibly, but not the haden man.
Granted, their lands marched along the southern border of Zell, the land of the hadens, but there was a hundred miles of desolation between where they were and where the man should have been.
Not that the speculation mattered.
They were about to find out what they were up against.
Nodding slightly at Kael as a signal, Dar altered his direction and the two began to move away from one another. Ideally, whoever was hunting them would think they were trying to outflank him and not realize they had deliberately set Dar up as bait.
It did not take long for the hunter to spring their trap, but they discovered he had a trick of his own.
Kael had barely disappeared when the man rose from the deep shadows of a snow covered trough, making the fines hairs on Dar’s neck stand on end, and simply stood staring at him.
Dar could see it was very definitely a haden from his size even though his face was shadowed by a hood of animal skin and he was wearing a cape of skin and boots of skin that covered almost every inch of flesh.
He was not carrying a weapon that Dar could see.
Dar lifted his spear and aimed it. Before he could bellow the challenge that came to mind, however, the haden whistled.
Dar whipped a look around to see who and how many had been alerted by that whistle and was just able to glimpse the kunga that charged him and laid him flat. Before he could fight the beast off, the haden landed on top of him, trey-claw extended toward his throat. “I am not your enemy, kilden. I am searching for an ally.”
“You have a very odd way of making friends,” Dar growled, furious that the bastard had caught him off guard with his ploy.
A trey-claw appeared beneath the haden man’s chin. “And our friends do not attack us.”
The haden man was silent for several moments. “You make my point for me,” he said finally, evenly. “A loner cannot make it in this world we have here. You need someone to guard your back.”
“We have one another,” Dar growled.
“But when you are watching one another’s back on the hunt, there is no one to guard the woman.”
It was just as well that he broke Kael’s hold and leapt away as he spoke. Otherwise, Kael might have taken his head off right then and there.
Dar was also inclined to kill him on the spot, but the stranger had made a valid point.
They had to travel further and further to find food and leaving Meeka alone for longer periods of time. He had never been easy in his mind about that, but it was not as bad when he had felt like they were close enough to hear her and respond in a timely manner if she needed help.
Not that he was ready to accept the haden man for that reason alone, but it was a very good point—if he could be trusted.
The fact that he had observed Meeka and done no more was a point in his favor.
Of course, they could not become bond brothers as he and Kael had even if it transpired that he could be trusted. It was not just that they were kilden people and he haden. The haden men did not bond as the kilden men did—not with one another and certainly not with men of another tribe entirely.
They might still be allies against the troubles of this world.
It was worth considering, he decided, for everyone’s safety. “Everyone pulls their own weight.”
Instead of taking insult, the man seemed to relax fractionally. “I would expect to.”
Dar and Kael exchanged a long, speaking look.
“Well … let us see what we can find today,” Dar said finally.
“I have food,” the haden man said. “Enough to keep us a day or two.”
Surprise rendered Dar speechless for several moments. Then, slowly, a budding sense of warmth and tentative trust flowed through him. “Then let us collect it and head home.”
The haden man grinned abruptly. “That is a good thought and a very welcome sound.”
Kael looked at him suspiciously. “What?”
“Home. Yes, let us collect my stores—our stores—and head home.” He paused. “I am called Torin.”
* * * *
It hadn’t occurred to Monica to wonder what Dar and Kael’s initial reaction to humans in general had been—or her in particular—until they arrived with a captive that was clearly a different race from them if not a completely different species.
The shock on his face and in his reaction might have been funny if she’d been in any state to appreciate it. It was as if he’d hit an invisible wall and rebounded, with the effects of the collision the only indication of what had happened. He jolted all over, jerking his head as if from impact. His eyes widened. His lips parted in surprise.
Monica’s reaction was mitigated by the fact that she was half naked and more focused on the surprise arrival than the surprise that it was a male that looked so different from those she’d become familiar with.
It still sent a jolt through her when he pushed the hood off and she was able to get her first good look at his face.
The attraction was physical, instantaneous, and powerful enough to punch the breath from her lungs.
She’d thought Dar was very attractive—more rugged than actually pretty, but with an undeniable sex appeal. Kael was more ‘pretty’ than handsome. She was inclined to think of him as cute, possibly because he seemed a bit younger than Dar, which might only have been an impression that had arisen because of a tendency toward impulsiveness.
The newcomer was handsome—very handsome—golden skin, gold brown hair, exotic amber colored eyes, a strong nose and chin, and a hard mouth that made her belly shimmy.
Clearly, his ancestors had been more lion-like than tiger-like as Dar and Kael’s antecedents must have been.
Despite the jolt of shock she saw travel through him, though, and the hint of wariness that entered his eyes when he realized she was alien, there was far more interest and appreciation in his intent gaze than simple curiosity.
Well, she thought wryly, she was next door to naked and clearly female if not one of theirs.
When Dar and Kael had left she’d decided that she was ready to brave a bath, but she didn’t want to torture herself with icy water and then climb back into dirty clothing.
Fortunately, she now had a way to remedy that situation.
After some trial and error, she’d figured out how—remembered the instructions--to make candles and soap from animal fat. She’d collected everything she could find that would hold the tallow for the candles, made wicks with materials from one of the broken chairs they’d found, and then she’d lit up their home cave with them when the guys had left on their hunt, setting a candle on every surface that would hold it and lighting them one by one.
The tallow candles smoked, of course, and they didn’t put out even nearly as much light as a light bulb, and they put off way more heat, but as frigid as it was outside that was a bonus not a downside. Come summer, it might be unpleasant, but it was more delightful than not in the cold weather she was currently dealing with.
It was the added light and warmth that had inspired the urge to be thoroughly clean.
It was a hell of a chore—hours in the doing, labor intensive. She wasn’
t sure afterwards if she would even have tackled it if she’d had any idea how much backbreaking labor would be involved. She wasn’t sure she wanted it badly enough to repeat the process very often, but it was worth the effort at that point in time.
It was one tiny piece of her old life that she could reclaim—with a very great deal of work.
She’d managed to gather enough snow and melt it to wash and then rinse—at least half ass—her suit and her under things. Then she’d hung them up to drip dry in the warmth near their hearth/campfire. Since she’d had the forethought to put a bucket of water near the hearth to warm while she struggled with her laundry, she had tepid water for bathing—not hot or even warm, but it took the ice edge off.
And soap.
Unfortunately, it took more water to bathe and wash her hair than she’d had the capacity to heat. She had to rinse with the frigid water from their ‘shower’.
It was just as well she’d worked up a good bit of extra body heat with all the effort it had taken to do her laundry. The internal heat made the freezing water all the more tortuous, but she wasn’t totally frozen by the time she managed to get the soap off—not to the point that her teeth were chattering, anyway.
Just pretty miserable crouching by the fire to drip dry.
Her underclothes were still unpleasantly damp when she put them back on, but it was all she could do to wait until they were just damp. She couldn’t bear standing around naked any longer. She had, in fact, begun to deeply regret the impulse to wash everything as soon as she finished her bath and realized she had nothing to put on, despite the fact that it was abundantly clear that her clothing should have been washed a long time ago.
It was her physical discomfort that had occupied her in all the time she’d spent bathing and doing laundry, though, and not a concern that Dar and Kael might bring a stranger home. That had never occurred to her.
Was that part of why she stood gaping in admiration at the newcomer?
She didn’t think so.
And, unfortunately, by the time she managed to break the spell and gather her wits, it was obvious to both Dar and Kael that she’d been gandering in appreciation, not dismay.
Chapter Fourteen
“We fine dis haden man who hunt Dar and Kael. Not friend,” Dar said flatly.
Monica gaped at him, blinking. She wasn’t certain of whether she was too surprised by the statement itself to digest it or if it was because Dar had spoken entirely in English—which he rarely did—and not terribly well.
It sank in finally that he was telling her he didn’t trust the stranger and he’d spoken English because he didn’t. “Ah!” she responded after a frantic search for a suitable response, nodding, hoping the frozen smile on her face wouldn’t give them away. “So … prisoner?”
He frowned. She could see he was struggling with the word.
“Take like Meeka?”
He flushed uncomfortably at that and then flicked a look at Kael.
Kael eyed him with angry wariness for a long moment. “If I had not done ….” He stopped and looked at the stranger. “She would be dead now ….”
“We will not discuss this now,” Dar said tightly.
Torin held up his hands, palms out in a surrendering posture. “I will go out if it will make you more comfortable to discuss the issue.”
Dar glared at him. “If you are inclined to play mind games, my friend, we will not get along,” he growled. “I am not easily manipulated. I am long past concern over being polite and you are not a guest in any case. Lest there be any doubt, I do not trust you any further than I could throw you and have no mind to make you privy to our affairs.”
Torin considered denying that he had intended to do any such thing, but he suspected Dar would immediately detect the deception so he merely shrugged.
“Name Torin. He offer food for stay wid us,” Dar continued for Meeka’s benefit.
Monica smiled a little more easily. “Food is always welcome,” she responded with a light chuckle, struggling with an unaccustomed giddiness.
She regretted it almost immediately. It drew the stranger’s intense scrutiny. There was so much speculation in his gaze she feared she had made a serious political blunder. What if he interpreted the laugh as an indication they were plotting against him?
Dar glanced at him. “She is happy we have brought food.”
Torin grinned easily, although he was not at ease. “She has not even seen it yet.”
“We have not had such an abundance that we are very picky.”
Torin nodded. “Yes. I could not help but note that she has not got a great deal of meat on her bones … or was she like this when you found her?”
The comment pissed off both Dar and Kael.
“We have taken her to mate,” Kael growled. “So you will watch how you speak of her if you like to have your teeth.”
“And as distressed as I am that she does not appeal to you, I can only think it is a good thing. It means we will probably not have to kill you,” Dar added tightly.
Torin contained the urge to issue a counter challenge with an effort. He had not actually expected the comment to be all that well received, but he had reserved some doubt that they had any real attachment to the female and had wanted to test the waters as to just how violently they might react to a challenge for possession.
And he had his answer.
Very violently.
She was pretty.
He would not mind fucking her. Alien woman or not, she was very prettily made—and, yes, she was thin—who was not a shadow of their former selves in these hard times?—but she was no stick.
She had quite enough curves to cushion.
He was of no mind to fight over her, however.
There were women of his own kind who had lost their mates ….
And he had come to search for allies not to make enemies. “Peace,” he responded with an effort. “I have neither a desire to die or to kill to prevent my death. I have come to find allies and, hopefully, to make friends.”
* * * *
The food Torin brought was beyond anything Monica had eaten since she’d been stranded on the alien world. She wasn’t convinced she’d had a better meal aboard the colony ship.
It wasn’t the meat. Although that was fresh, the meat mild, as if it had come from domesticated beast—not likely—or a young animal, she had fresh kill fairly often. They always made the first meal out of fresh meat even since they’d managed to build a working smoker to preserve food. And even before that, the first few meals from a kill were fresh.
What made the meal the best she’d had in a very long time was the fact that Torin had seasoning—salt and something peppery.
The salt was like food of the gods by itself, though. She was so hungry for salt she had to fight to control the urge to eat it straight.
And beyond that, he produced packaged food that was actually a level above just tolerable. It was genuinely good—once salted.
They were too busy eating when the food was prepared to engage in small talk—however polite that would have been—and too full from eating afterwards to feel terribly inclined to talk.
In point of fact, they had all had a very long and active day and none of them really wanted to do anything but climb beneath the furs and drop into unconsciousness.
Neither Dar nor Kael trusted the stranger, Torin, however, and by unspoken consent, agreed to take turns standing watch.
It made Monica very uneasy. The men hadn’t really stood watch in all the time they’d been together. Dar and Kael both slept lightly and with their weapons close to hand. Since they’d settled in their dwelling, they had added other security measures that had made it unnecessary to stay awake all night, although they’d clearly long since developed the habit of getting up every few hours to check things out and sleeping very lightly between the nightly wanderings.
And if it wasn’t unnerving enough that Dar actually took up a guard position, weapon in hand, the growling beast
that forced his way through the small entrance and ‘attacked’ Torin did nothing for her peace of mind.
Monica had just dropped into oblivion—or at least felt as if she had—when the sudden, frenzied noise went off in her ears like a trumpet blast. She jackknifed upright so fast her mind didn’t have a chance to catch up.
The thing burst into the room and instantly fell upon Torin.
Monica couldn’t even scream.
All she could do was gasp sharply and stare bug-eyed at the huge beast.
She did scream when Dar abruptly embraced her, too frightened and disoriented to realize it was him that had grabbed her for a handful of seconds.
“Is ok,” he said soothingly. “Is ok.”
“It’ll eat him!” Monica gasped. “And then us!”
He held her tightly when she resisted his hold, trying to fight her way loose. “Dis Kunga Torin ….” He stopped, clearly struggling to find a word. “Frien’.”
Monica lifted her head to study his face for a moment. When she saw no fear there, she glanced toward the beast and the stranger and saw that he was right. Torin wasn’t grimacing in pain! He was grinning at the damned thing!
Briefly, relief flooded her, but it was very quickly ousted by anger that she’d been frightened half out of her wits for no good reason.
“You might have warned me,” she said tightly.
Dismay flickered across Dar’s features. “No tink ting come in here.”
She supposed it was a reasonable excuse.
That plus the language difficulties, but, damn it! They’d scared the pure fuck out of her and it pissed her off! She wanted to club somebody for scaring her half to death!
Shoving away from him, she stalked back to her pallet and lay down.
She’d barely composed herself when the damned monster was snuffling at her face.
“Kael!” she gasped, her voice escalating to a shaky scream.
“Kunga … here!” Torin barked from across the room.
The beast lifted its head and then, with obvious reluctance, left off snuffling at Monica and returned to its master. Settling on its belly, it patted its tail against the stone floor … for all the world like a dog.
Exodus: Extinction Event Page 13
