by Jaide Fox
Dar followed the line of her finger. “We are close to the town. A mill once generated power for this town, and a—what you call a temple—stood near the mill by the river.”
Moss covered the wide stone steps, making their path slippery and treacherous with every step. She could still hear the falls above them roaring in the distance, and felt the cool dampness of the air from the nearby river, though she couldn’t see it through the heavy vegetation. She focused on not losing her footing and keeping close to Dar as they descended, until the trees grew thick and close overhead. Light dimmed under the canopy and beneath the shadow of a once great structure, now crumbling from abandonment.
“The temple,” Dar said, taking her hand once more. His larger hand enveloped hers, making her feel strangely small.
He frowned up at the archways, leading her through the carved stone doorway inside. The ceiling timbers were collapsed on the interior of what must have once been a beautiful temple. Or so it appeared at first glance. Looking closer, she saw broken colored glass strewn through the building, and there were no signs of nature having reclaimed the innards of the building. Great stones were scattered over the floor as though pounded in by a huge fist and powdered to dust and gravel.
Dar released her hand, walking among the destruction carefully. “This temple has been recently desecrated.”
She looked around, echoing the feeling that the building, though old, looked recently destroyed. The outside had appeared worn and ancient, grown with vines, but the inner walls were cleaner, less exposed, and stained by the elements. “Why would someone do this? I thought you said the town was abandoned.”
“It is,” he said, walking to the front of the temple. Splintered wood from a stage or pedestal was scattered amongst the stone and glass. He bent and picked up a strange silvery-white rock. Following behind him, she looked at the rock he palmed.
“Chalcedonite,” he offered, anticipating her question before she could ask it. He straightened from his squat and swept a hand toward the gaping opening of a broken stained glass window. Glass marked the edges like jagged teeth. “Someone crushed the roof in, broke the windows, and took the offering to the Old Ones.”
“Offering? You mean this ore? Doesn’t look like much to me.”
He nodded. “All the mines have a temple nearby with offerings to the Old Ones. It is the old ways, but no one has ever dared disturb them. The priests had kept this offering awaiting their return for generations. It is the same all over our world and has been for as far back as I can remember. Someone destroyed the temple and has stolen the chalcedonite. It is a sacrilege. I don’t believe any of my people would do this. They are too superstitious.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Could it be the same people up at the mine?” Jasmine asked.
Dar dropped the rock and looked at her. “Possibly. Many still revere the Old Ones. Others fear them, though none alive today has ever beheld one. But that fear and awe has kept the old ways intact. I cannot imagine one of my people coming and taking a sacred offering to them.”
Jasmine toed a timber and cringed when it fell over and caused fallen masonry to roll. Dar shook his head then stiffened, looking at something on the floor once hidden by rubble. He pushed timbers and stone away, revealing scratches in the floor. At least, it just looked like scratches to her. “What is it?” she asked, kneeling beside him. She couldn’t help but be intrigued—she’d always been an archeological buff back home. Indy Jones had been her ideal hero when she was a little girl. Ruins, mysteries, and artifacts were right up her alley. She’d lived in fantasies and books when she got old enough to be tortured by her fellow students for her complexion and hair. It was easy to pretend she couldn’t hear when she was reading.
Dar brushed the debris away, blowing bits of sand and limestone from the deep incisions in the stone until he’d revealed a two foot section of the floor. “It’s writing. A warning in the Old One’s language.”
The suspense was killing her. Did he know he was making her want to bite her nails off? “Can you read it? What’s it say?”
He furrowed his brow, remaining silent a moment. “I believe it says ‘we come’.”
Chapter Five
“Jesus! You give me the fucking creeps. Should I be scared? Should we even stay down at the village or just high tail it through the woods like maniacs?”
Her attempt at lightening the mood fell flat. Dar was in thought, walking out of the desecrated church.
“Are you sure you read that right? Maybe it was ‘we came’. Or so and so was here. Just a joke by some asshole teenagers pissed off at the end of the world?” she said, quickening her step to keep up with him. Ahead she could see the trees, thin as rooftops, come into view. At least they didn’t have much farther to walk. Though that meant they weren’t that far from the touchdown site either.
“That is a possibility. Minute, but possible. Very minute,” he said. “I could be wrong of course. It has been many years since I studied the ancient language.”
“Should I be worried?”
“We should all be worried if they return displeased. They created us. They could take that life away. We are no mighty civilization. We stand on the brink of destruction every day.” He sighed. “I should not share these fears with an outlander. I was ordered to make you feel welcome and safe.”
Jasmine snorted. “You’re doing a bang up job. Congrats.”
Dar shrugged. “I cannot be perfect all the time.”
They’d reached the first of the buildings on the cobbled street. Most of the buildings here where white-washed stucco framed in heavy black timbers and crowded together along one main road. Dar reached the first house and tried the knob. It was locked. He put his shoulder down, jiggled the handle, and rammed it with his body until the weakened door casing relented and allowed them inside. The door slammed against the wall, the force of his entry sending dust flying into the air. But there was no scent of mold and mildew—everything was dry and remarkably modern looking. Though not as state of the art as the palace they’d left, the house certainly didn’t match the medieval-like exterior.
“One of our more modern cities. This province had more influence and wealth than others. More conveniences,” he said.
“What’s that mean?”
“Electricity for one. Running water. Many villages in the old days were barely livable. Despicable conditions considering the wealth of the nation. It was a means to keep us under control.”
“Damn. Think we could get some power right now?” she said, feeling hopeful and looking around for a switch or a lamp.
He shook his head. “They cut the power when they abandoned the town. I could go down to the mill and try to restore power, but it’s nearly dark and I probably couldn’t get it working before nightfall. We’ll go in the morning and see if there’s a communication unit still there. We might get lucky for once.”
“You’re just building up my hopes now, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps.”
She shuddered, beginning to feel inadequately dressed for roughing it. The ride on the zhala had felt brisk with the wind, but quickly forgotten with the exertion of trekking down the mountain road. Now she could tell the temperature was dropping. With her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she looked around for something to cover her shoulders. The bottom floor reminded her a lot of an open concept modern home with a galley kitchen, a couch and chairs nestled around a large stone fireplace, and tucked near the staircase was a small round table with two chairs.
Dar noticed Jasmine shiver and rubbed her bare arms. His warm touch felt strange, eliciting more shivers to travel up her spine. “I’ll go upstairs and see if there’s anything usable for tonight. It can get cold after dark. I’ll start a fire and we’ll sleep here then head out in the morning.”
There were matches on the mantel and wood in the firebox beside the fireplace. Dar had a fire going within minutes and left her to go upstairs. She fed split logs to the fire until it fi
lled the space with a bright orange glow and radiated enough heat to make her sweat. Finally, she was warm. Dar returned with an armload of blankets and pillows and dropped them on the floor, looked at the fire and her, then swore under his breath. “You’re going to cook us if you keep adding wood. Why don’t you let me handle keeping the fire going for tonight? I’d rather not wake to the house burning down around us. I’ll take care of you. It’s only fair since I can’t do more for you.”
“That’s an about face if I ever heard one. Did you bump your head upstairs?” she asked, looking at him.
“Can’t a man be apologetic and kind without having an ulterior motive?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Not where I’m from. Men are only nice when they want sex or something else from you.”
He made a sound somewhere between a snort and a chuckle—a snortle? “Sex is the last thing I’d want from you.”
“Good. That makes two of us,” she said, feeling her ego bruise. Not that she wanted him to lust after her. It just stung to know he didn’t find her the least attractive. Which meant his looks and innuendoes were probably all in her head. Just how good looking did a woman have to be to incite men to lust when the competition from other women was so low? Jesus H. Christ! She had some kind of problem.
“I’m glad we’ve cleared that up,” he muttered, walking to the kitchen area. She watched him dig around for glasses, set them on the counter, then go outside. He returned after a several minutes and went to the sink to fill the glasses with water. Crossing the room, he handed her a water. “I primed the pump outside. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks!” she said, ignoring his sarcasm as she drained the glass. He followed suit, then set about making pallets on the floor beside each other. She’d have time to move her pallet when he was done. He might not want sex, but she wasn’t going to take chances by sleeping right beside him.
“Are there beds upstairs?” she asked.
“One. You want to sleep up there and share?” His face stayed impassive.
She wasn’t buying his neutral expression. “Uh…no. Is there a reason we’d have to?”
“I think, given our little discoveries today, it is best if we stay close to one another. I know it must be painful for you to have to share the same air and space, but you will have to bear with me.”
“Now you’re just being nasty,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “I want to think you mean one thing, but your body language and tone’s all off. I’m done trying to read you.”
He grunted and tilted his head, studying her as one would a strange new species. “I thought I was making the best of a poor situation. If you’d rather us sleep upstairs, we can.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You ain’t that dense.”
He held his heart, looking stricken. “I’ve never had the pleasure of sharing a woman’s bed. You’d be my first.”
Jasmine laughed and abruptly stopped. “Now I’m to take you seriously that you’re a virgin. You’ve never had sex with a woman?” She wondered how long they’d been without any women at all. He looked mid-thirties. It was possible he’d grown up without access to any females at all—which just left men to experiment with. She burned with the desire to ask him what he’d done all this time, but decided he didn’t look like the type who would share.
His voice dropped an octave and rumbled in his chest with sexy undertones. “That I did not say. I thought we established we weren’t interested in sex? I’m sorry I cannot oblige you. The walk has tired me. I meant sleeping. Isn’t it obvious?”
In spite of his words, she had the distinct feeling he was flirting with her. Had he only been playing socially awkward this whole time? She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Sitting on a pallet, she divided her attention between him and the fire. She shrugged, noticing the bedding was clean. The house looked like the former residents had just walked out and would return at any moment. She scooted around and faced him. “Why would someone just leave everything like this anyway?”
Dar sat on the couch, watching the fire with his long legs extended. What was it about a military man lounging and looking relaxed? He’d kept precise movements, stiff and straight until now, and the contrast between his rigid disposition and one of ease were stark and noticeable. His bold features looked impossibly harder, his jaw squared like cut stone in spite of the lax position.
“War. Death.” He raked a hand through his silver-streaked black hair, looking as spent as he’d claimed. “Disease ravaging our women to the brink of extinction. It is easier to pool our remaining resources into a few cities. There aren’t enough of us left to people this world. That will change with new blood.” He paused, sliding his gaze toward her. She could see her silhouette limned by fire in their depths. Something in his eyes made her shiver inside in spite of the warmth bathing her back. “With women.”
“With breeders,” she said, swallowing and averting her gaze when she realized she sounded breathless. Her stomach grumbled. She attributed her mooning on low blood sugar.
“If you want to call it that.”
“I don’t see any sense in trying to hide what you want from us.”
“Breeding would be the first step to recovery,” he said quietly. “It is a natural thing. Pleasurable, though I’m sure you already know how much pleasure can be had in the arms of a man. Are you ready to be bred?”
Her heart thudded dully. Or maybe it was her stomach knocking her ribs for attention. She swallowed audibly. “No.”
“Holding out?” he asked.
“Sure. Why not? I’ve only been around one man here.”
“Maybe that’s all you need. There’s no need to be greedy and have more than one of us.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh. So I could choose a few? Now that’s giving me some ideas. I used to have this recurring fantasy to be pinned between two men…According to y’all, I’ve got a planet full of horny men to choose from. No need to limit myself it seems.”
She watched a vein throb on his temple and felt amused she’d touched a nerve in him. Feeling stiff from sitting on the floor, she got up and sat beside him on the couch. She patted the cushion. “I think I’ll sleep on this tonight. No sense in both of us being crippled in the morning from the floor.”
“Indeed. I think I’ll go and look for something to eat,” Dar said, standing.
“I thought we needed to stick together?”
“You should be fine for now. It’s nearly dark. I won’t be gone long.”
Chapter Six
Seducing a disinterested woman was more difficult than Dar imagined. He hadn’t had to make an effort to fall into the good graces of the harem women. They’d just been so grateful for a friendly face and tenderness that they’d practically fallen into his arms in spite of the fact that being caught by the king for infidelity would mean swift, fatal punishment. The previous king had had more women than he could possibly bed or please—in fact, he’d made no effort to please them.
Dar’s run as a guard for the harem had sadly ended when he enabled the insurgents to enter the palace, unknowingly setting into motion the downfall of one ruler to another. He still marveled that he’d managed to not only survive, but thrive. Sometimes having friends in high places could be beneficial. In his current situation, however, he wasn’t so certain since they’d targeted him for a seemingly impossible mission.
Why the hell they were so determined for him to settle down, he didn’t know. He’d pacify them if it killed him. Give her some orgasms, put a baby in her belly, and then she would be hooked and disinterested in returning to her home planet. Or so he hoped. If more effort than that was required, he wasn’t sure he was up for the job. Ignoring the effect she had on his body was more difficult. There was something about her big brown eyes that snared his attention.
He had trouble not imagining his fist tangled in her thick black hair as he arched her head back and tasted her dark skin. The contrast between them was intriguing, but not his sole attra
ction. She had a body to make a man sweat. An ample backside, narrow waist, and breasts large enough to fill his hands—these assets made him able to bear her razor tongue.
No doubt the woman was hungry. She’d chewed on his wit enough to demonstrate she had an appetite. They hadn’t eaten all day and walked for hours. He knew he should have gotten his packets off the zhala before releasing it to its own cognizance, but she would have been immediately suspicious. For now, she had no reason to doubt him. He’d known the beast was ready to bolt and find a mate. The signs were apparent when working around them and during training. Jerik thought he was out of his mind for wanting to take a zhala that was obviously close to or in a mating heat—they could be counted upon to fly off at the slightest provocation, especially when rider-less. And Jerik had been correct.
That part of his plan to strand them together had worked entirely too well. An extra few days where he could show his prowess and fortitude in adversity should impress her. The whistle would call his ride back when they got to the bottom of the valley where the vast orchards the zhala loved grew. No one at the seventh division would question his delay in reporting back, since he’d often spent time in the wild for days on end without calling back. He could be her hero, and soften her feelings towards him. The guilt at his deception he would deal with later, and if he was lucky, she’d be so enamored with him by the time they returned to the city that he’d never have to tell her the truth. The only real kink had been their disturbing discovery—that was wholly unplanned.
He wasn’t certain, however, that his prowess in bed was enough to bring that termagant to heel. The woman had too much brain for his own good. Her smart mouth should be put to better use than cutting him down and snubbing him.
Dar scrubbed his jaw, looking at the darkening sky and the first of the two moons already rising above the mountains. A cool breeze wafted the familiar scent of ripened fruit. The dwarf trees grew naturally in the valley and along the river—one reason his people had developed the area over time. He followed the scent until he found an abandoned grove behind one of the houses. A quick check in the building gave him other finds—a basket to carry fruit, a soft leather jacket trimmed with fur along the neck and cuffs, soap and oil, and a dress.
