One of the figures was Timon, and he was feeding. The woman had her head flung back, her cascade of hair tumbling down her back.
Shocked and startled, Jamie tried to retreat. But Timon heard her and looked up, dark liquid on his lips. His eyes glittered like a cat’s in the moonlight...feral, hungry, predatory.
The woman laughed and pulled him back down. Jamie felt her way back into the wagon and fell on the cot, a sense of betrayal eating away at her soul.
She knew she had no right to feel this way. She had attempted to offer him her blood, but never explicitly enough. She had let her old fears blunt her determination. He had hidden this blood-taking from her, as if he thought he might hurt her by turning elsewhere.
And she had seen something ferocious in his eyes when he looked at her, as if he hadn’t really seen her at all. A part of himself he had hidden, even when he’d fought the tribesmen in the hills west of the pass. The Opir half.
But she was done with waiting. Even if he didn’t want or need her blood now, she could still offer herself. She would act—not rationally, but with emotion. And she would accept the risks with her eyes wide open.
Once again she crept out of the wagon, pausing to listen for voices or movement. All she heard were crickets in the grass. She descended the stairs and took a deep breath. Timon might be in a wagon, but she doubted it. He would sleep under the stars as he always did, one with the night.
She found him lying on a blanket close to the horses, his bare chest moving deeply with sleep. There was no one else nearby. She moved to the nearest wagon and began to undress, favoring her healing arm, slowly removing her shirt and her pants, her underclothes and boots.
Step by careful step she made her way toward Timon. He had ears like a fox, and she thought her chances of getting near without waking him were close to nil.
Incredibly, he didn’t stir, even when she reached his blanket. She eased herself down beside him and pressed her cheek to the grass next to his head.
“I told you, Caridad,” he murmured. “Not tonight.”
Timon had said “not tonight” to the woman who must have offered herself to him? He’d turned her down.
She waited until Timon was breathing steadily and then brushed her hand down his chest, feeling the ridged muscle over his ribs. He sighed again. Her palm reached his hard stomach and ventured below.
Not even the rugged material of his pants could hide his arousal. She touched him tentatively and then traced his firm length.
Suddenly she was on her back, Timon’s face staring down into hers with a look of almost comical surprise. But the expression changed when he came fully awake and realized who lay beneath him.
“Jamie,” he said.
Chapter 12
Without thinking, Jamie lifted her knees and spread her thighs wide beneath Timon’s hips. His cock pushed hard against her. He raised himself up on his arms, relieving the pleasurable pressure.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, though he must have known the question was foolish.
She raised her arms and linked them around his neck, pulling his head down. He gazed at her a moment, fire kindling in his eyes, and kissed her.
“Are you sure?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes. I want this.”
“You’ve never done it before.”
“There has to be a first time.”
His teeth flashed in a grin, pointed cuspids and all. “An experiment?” he asked.
“I’m not a scientist now.”
“Aren’t you?”
Jamie began to rise, pushing against him. “If you don’t want me...”
“Want you?” He kissed her again, pushing his tongue between her lips, and drew back. “Do you need more proof, Doctor?”
“I feel it,” she said, reveling in the pressure between her thighs. “But that isn’t enough. I want—”
He silenced her with another kiss and rose on his knees, pulling off his pants with easy efficiency. For a moment her thoughts betrayed her, reminding her of all those other women he’d had in his travels.
But then he was naked, and she saw all of him for the first time, from the muscular breadth of his chest to the trim waist and below, where his desire was very much in evidence. She thought he must be rather large, but she had no means of comparison; she only knew that the sight of his hunger for her made her hot and wet, her body readying itself for penetration.
“Your arm?” he asked as he lowered himself over her.
“I’ll be careful.” She shifted her body, raising her knees higher, and felt the brush of his erection against her thigh. Her stomach tightened in anticipation.
He didn’t enter her at once. He did as he had the first time, touching the tips of her nipples with his tongue and suckling them gently, each tug sending erotic sensation shooting down between her thighs. She felt beautiful, glorious, indescribably aroused. He kissed the underside of her breasts, and as he did he slid his cock along her thigh, creeping inevitably closer to its home. She reached down for him, winced at the pull on her healing wrist, and let him continue at his own, teasing pace.
Just when she though she couldn’t bear it any longer, the tip of his cock slipped between her moist folds. Still he didn’t enter fully, but continued to tease her, dipping in slightly and withdrawing, making certain that she was ready.
“Now,” she said as he arched over her, bringing his face close to hers. He kissed her, and then he was all the way inside, one smooth thrust that pinched briefly and then became a kind of miracle. He withdrew, gazing into her eyes, and thrust again, this time with a little more force, and she flung her head back with a gasp. She felt the slight scrape of something sharp against her neck, there and gone in an instant.
Timon’s movements became a steady cadence, entering and withdrawing, each time pushing deeper inside her. Jamie was filled as she had never been before, in a way she had barely begun to imagine. She wrapped her good arm around his back and locked her thighs around his waist, whimpering and moaning with no thought to who might hear. There was no logical, clinical part of her to count the minutes or worry about exposure. All that remained of her was raw passion and the desire to have Timon inside her forever.
But the end came unexpectedly in a burst of wild sensation, carrying her up and up to a pinnacle of ecstasy and then slowly letting her down again. A moment later Timon shuddered and moved more quickly, then lowered himself so that his chest grazed her nipples and his cheek touched hers.
Thought returned, and with it the memory of the graze of his teeth on her neck, a second of indecision, and then nothing but dizzy joy.
He hadn’t bitten her.
He didn’t need to, she told herself. He’d just fed that night. But she knew it wasn’t only that. Something had stopped him.
She’d guessed that he’d recognized her fear of being bitten. But he deserved to know the reason, so he would understand that it didn’t have anything to do with him...and that he could depend on her when they crossed the desert.
“It’ll be dawn soon,” Timon murmured into her shoulder. “You need to dress and return to the wagon.”
“Are you afraid they’ll find out?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair.
He brushed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “They’ll know,” he said, “but they’ll be too polite to mention it.” She gathered her clothing and began to dress. Timon pulled on his pants and shrugged into his shirt. The predawn breeze had picked up, ruffling his hair and teasing Jamie’s with agile fingers. Every nerve in her body was tingling, every sensation magnified. Timon’s smallest touch, a brush of his hand against hers, made her long to fall back in his arms.
But logic and reason won out, and she did as he asked, retreating to her borrowed bed. She listened to the creak of wood and metal a
s people began to leave their wagons and prepare for the new day. Someone started a fire. She heard Timon’s pleasant baritone among the other voices, making easy conversation.
After a while she wandered away from the wagon. She smiled at the children who were playing hide-and-seek among the wheels, greeted the adults who had made her and Timon so welcome the night before and paused to feel the rising sun on her face. It was as if she’d never truly felt its warmth before.
“Jamie,” Timon said, taking her arm.
She opened her eyes, melting under his touch. He smiled and winked as if they shared a secret, and then led her down to the fire and a breakfast of biscuits and fresh eggs from the caravan’s chickens.
They bid farewell to the Wanderers a few hours later, their horses well rested and their rations doubled. Jamie found herself a little sore when she mounted Lazarus, but it was an ache she didn’t mind at all.
Once she and Timon were alone and had started up the winding, crumbled highway of the pass, she gathered her courage and broached the subject she’d kept to herself for so long.
“I’m sorry,” she began.
Timon looked sideways at her, one brow lifted. “Why should you be sorry, Jamie?”
She flushed. “I’m not sorry about that.”
He reined Chloe to a halt. “If I thought I’d hurt you—”
“No. It was the most—” She stopped before she made an utter fool of herself. “No. I’m sorry I made you feel you shouldn’t ask to take blood from me.” The horses began to move again, though neither Timon nor Jamie had given the signal. Timon frowned down at the saddle horn.
“I never gave it much thought,” he said.
“Please don’t lie to make me feel better,” Jamie said. “I should never have acted the way I did when I was first wounded. It was part of the bargain we made with you and the Riders, so that you wouldn’t be relying on animal blood during our travels. And here you and I have been traveling together, and you’ve been deprived of what you need to live.”
He glanced up at her with a flash of white teeth. “Haven’t I proven I’m very much alive?”
“I know you wouldn’t die without my blood. But I also know you haven’t been getting adequate nourishment, at least not enough to satisfy you. That’s my fault.”
“No,” he said, pulling Chloe to a stop again. “It was my choice.”
“Only because of my reactions,” she said. “I know you would never force yourself on any unwilling human.”
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“Last night...I saw you with that woman.”
“Caridad,” he said softly.
“You saw me watching,” she said.
“I thought I saw someone. I didn’t know it was you.”
Jamie kicked Lazarus lightly, and he began to walk up the slope. “Seeing you feed from her made me realize how selfish I’ve been.”
Chloe’s tack jingled as Timon fell in beside her. “Caridad and I have known each other for a long time. We don’t meet often, but—”
“Do you think I’m jealous?” she said with a light laugh. “I’m only sorry that you had to go to someone else for what you needed.”
“I don’t accept your apology because I know you have good reason for your reluctance to share your blood, and I respect that.”
“But I’m not re—”
“I know something terrible happened to you, and—”
“You know?” she asked, her head snapping up. “Did someone tell you? My godfather? Or was it Greg?”
Timon reached over and grabbed Lazarus’s bridle. The horse stomped in annoyance, but Timon whispered a quiet word and he subsided.
“When you were very ill,” Timon said, “you seemed to speak to someone who was hurting you. The things you said... I guessed it had something to do with a bad experience when you were much younger.”
Jamie dropped the reins and covered her hands with her mouth. “I told you?”
“During your fever,” he said. “I didn’t think you intended to say the things you did, so I didn’t tell you.”
“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes. “I should have been honest with you from the start.”
“With a stranger?” he asked.
“A stranger who saved my life, who cared for me when I was helpless.”
“Someone who was too much like the one who hurt you.”
“Never.” She leaned over to grip Timon’s arm. “You’re nothing like him.”
“Maybe we should dismount,” Timon suggested, taking her hand.
“No. It’s easier this way.” She gave Lazarus another little kick, and he snorted loudly before starting forward again.
“He doesn’t think much of my riding habits,” Jamie said. “I don’t blame him.”
“He’s patient, but this little girl wants to be on her way.”
“Let’s not disappoint her.”
They rode for a time in silence, and then Jamie began. She told him about the escaped Opir prisoner, how he had snatched her off the streets of the Enclave when she was with her mother and carried her to a dark place, where he’d taken her blood by force. After several days, the Opir had released her, but after she’d been restored to her family, she’d continued to have nightmares. They’d finally stopped in her late teens, but she’d never forgotten the terror of those days.
When she was finished, Timon was grim-faced, that feral light shining in his eyes.
“And he escaped?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her throat felt tight.
“Your godfather and Cahill know about this?”
“Yes, they know. And I know I lacked the courage to tell you.”
He jerked back on the reins and slid out of the saddle. With almost no help from her, he pulled her off Lazarus’s back and into his arms.
He kissed her very gently and looked into her eyes.
“You were a child, Jamie,” he said. “You survived. You went on with your life by refusing to let that Opir savage steal your future.”
“Did I?” she asked. “I spent the rest of my childhood and young adulthood hiding in a lab.”
“You’re not hiding now.” He set her back, his hands cupping the sides of her face. “You’re not hiding from me.” He kissed her forehead and let her go. “I wouldn’t have put you through being bitten again.”
“But I want you to.” She smiled unevenly. “I’m not afraid anymore.”
He caressed her cheek with the rough palm of his hand. “We’ll see,” he said. “When the time comes—”
“I will be ready.” She took his hand and kissed his palm. “This will be the hardest part of our journey. We both need our full strength. We’ll be together, Timon. In every way.”
Chapter 13
Timon took a step back from Jamie. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for telling me this,” he said.
He helped her remount and leaped easily onto Chloe’s back. They set out again, this time speaking only of simple things. Jamie felt as if an enormous weight had been taken off her shoulders. She had never told anyone but her father what had happened that day so long ago. Later, her godfather had learned the truth, and so had Greg. But neither he nor Greg truly understood just how deeply she’d been affected.
Now Timon knew, and understood.
The following weeks were as challenging as Timon had promised. Once they crossed the high pass they descended almost immediately into desert.
They met no raiders or settlements, and Jamie took copious notes to relieve the boredom when they traveled during the early mornings and late afternoons, after the heat of the day had passed. Sometimes when they camped at noon under the canopy Timon carried among his supplies, or when it was too dark to move the horses safely, she and Timon made love.
But he didn’t take her blood until she asked him to, and even then he hesitated. Only when she pulled his head down and held him there did he finally surrender.
She felt the slight pressure and pain of his bite, and then a flood of warmth and pleasure she hadn’t expected. Sweet satisfation filled her body as he stroked her breasts and thighs and in between, and just as he finished she reached her climax and shuddered wildly while he closed the small wound with his lips.
“Was it all right?” he asked her afterward.
“If I had known how it could be...”
“With me,” he said, a possessive note in his voice. “It might not be the same with others. When we get to the Conclave—”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, though she felt a little fearful. Timon was right. She couldn’t know that it would be the same with another, that the bad memories wouldn’t return. She wasn’t sure she could share so much of herself with a stranger.
“They can’t force you,” Timon said, kissing her forehead and cheeks and lips.
“How can I expect peace if people like me won’t freely offer what Opiri need to survive?” She trailed her hand over his chest. “You’ve made it easier. Thank you.”
Timon pulled her into his arms and folded himself around her as if he could protect her from all the Opiri in the world. But she knew he couldn’t. She didn’t want him to.
When they crossed the Colorado River at the border of old California and Arizona, they found a small human settlement on the riverside. The colonists told them that the wagons they sought were only a few days ahead. Jamie and Timon rode on along Highway 40 west, crossing more desert and gradually entering scrubby grassland, broken by hills and mesas to the north and south. There were signs of the passage of groups of various sizes, on foot and horseback, along with the tracks of wagons. But they encountered no other travelers, hostile or otherwise.
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