Anya had to be somewhere in this frozen wasteland. Joshua’s eyes hurt from scanning the glittering white snow pack.
Was she still alive? Sometimes, his brain felt too bleary to think logically.
She had to be alive. He was her protector. That job always came first in his heart. The title of Baron meant little by comparison.
He would find her, even if it killed him.
* * * * *
Three and a half days had passed, and Anya estimated she would reach the Dzungarian Gate sometime tomorrow night. She stirred the fire in her latest cave—a larger one than most—ignoring the fact it was finally dark outside. It was time to leave her warm sanctuary.
Anya was sick of hiking through the black, bitterly cold nights. So far, she had encountered no animals, except for a few rodents. What did it say when she found their quiet rustlings in the back of the caves a comfort as she slept?
Anya had never felt so utterly alone in her entire life. She thought about her family all the time. She missed them so much. And Joshua… It was hard, but she struggled not to think about him. Always a painful, losing battle. It didn’t help to remind herself that he cared nothing for her wishes, and that he had basically sold her. Even though the bride price was largely symbolic, she didn’t feel any less like a sold piece of meat after Onred had manhandled her.
The leaping flames warmed her face. She needed to start walking again. With any luck, her ambitious plans for peace would make all of this misery worthwhile. And hopefully when she arrived in Tarim Territory her uncle wouldn’t shoot first, and ask questions later.
Maybe a few more minutes by the warm fire wouldn’t hurt.
* * * * *
Joshua had flown in the dark for over an hour now, sweeping over the Tien Shan foothills. Tonight, something in his gut wouldn’t let him give up and go home. But how much searching was enough?
It didn’t matter.
He would not give up. All the same, he felt so worried that he’d found no trace of Anya that it made him feel sick. In his deepest heart—a place he didn’t look often, for as a child he’d found things hurt a lot less if he shoved his emotions deep into a black place inside himself—he was afraid he would never find her. Clearly, if she was alive, she was working hard to avoid being found. Fear and anger knotted harder, and for a second, felt like a sharp ache in his chest. She had to be out here. Somewhere.
More on impulse than by design, he set the bird down on a level plateau. The engine whispered into silence, and Joshua ran a palm over his rough, whiskered face. Should he give up? Even Ray, his analytical second-in-command, was now quietly recommending that he do so.
But Anya was alive. Joshua felt it, deep in his gut. In fact, he had the insane feeling he could reach out and touch her right now…as if she were that close.
This illogical perception did not leave him, even though his logical side said to dismiss it. After all, he was woolly-headed from exhaustion. But the soldier in him had been trained and honed to act on both logic and instinct.
“Why not?” he muttered, and unstrapped his safety belt. He was sick of being trapped in this bird, using only his eyes and computer instruments to search for Anya. The primitive urge to stride into the wilderness and use brute, physical strength to fight the obstacles keeping him from Anya overwhelmed him.
It was illogical. Joshua knew it. All the same, he pulled on his protective gear and stepped into the dark night. A wisp of a moon and millions of stars leant feeble light to the stark landscape. Cold bit into his exposed face, and he closed the door behind him. It was so quiet out here. Lonely, too.
It felt good to stand up and stretch. A hill rose before him, and so he climbed it. The exertion felt good, too. At the top, Joshua gained a better view of the landscape than he’d had before. He scanned the horizon, then the foothills, and finally a small, flat valley before him, edged by rocky foothills on the other side.
“Anya, where are you?” Frustration roughened his voice. His gaze flickered to the starry heavens. The cloudy gauze of the Milky Way, sparkling with millions of tiny stars, was breathtakingly beautiful. God had made it. God knew where Anya was right now.
Joshua wasn’t in the habit of talking to God, although he did completely believe He existed. “Help me find her,” he muttered. “Please. I need h…I need to find her.”
Desperation and growing fear twisted his gut. His gaze searched the horizon again. Nothing but blackness. Moonlight glinted white off a few snow-spangled bushes, and yellow rocks glowed...
His gaze swung back. A fire. Someone burned a fire out here, in the middle of nowhere. A jagged bolt of hope shot through him. Anya.
So. She was here. She had come a lot further than he had expected.
The sound of the aircraft might spook her, so Joshua left it, and walked swiftly by the light of the moon across the frozen terrain. The light dimmed to almost nothing as he reached the lower elevation, as if hidden behind a rocky outcropping. The fire had to be in a cave.
She was there. He felt it.
And yet a few minutes later, when Joshua truly saw Anya’s dark head bent over the fire, something settled inside him. Relief. And more.
Shortly following, a whole lot of anger welled up to replace it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anya still didn’t want to put out the warm, comforting fire. What did another few minutes matter? So far, she had eluded Joshua’s air fleet. Now freedom was as close as her next frosty breath. Only one aircraft whispered through the skies now. The others had given up. Soon that one, lonely one would, too. Perhaps then she could walk during the daytime.
After she traversed the Dzungarian Gate tomorrow, it would be another week, perhaps, before she reached her uncle’s nearest outpost. Hopefully, Richert would welcome her. Every bit of her outrageous plan hinged upon this tiny hope.
Pitch black had settled in outside. With it, a deep, biting cold swirled into the cave.
She really should put out the fire and get going. Although the cave entrance was partially blocked, someone at the perfect angle might see the light. Maybe that one, last, persistent pilot—although she hadn’t heard the craft since noon. He must have given up, too. For now.
She wondered if Onred’s men would join the search. Thankfully, her sisters were too young to be considered as an exchange for a bride. If it had been different, she would never have left. But she did trust Joshua to protect them. He’d never think to relinquish one of them to the wolf. He had always expected more of her. Demanded more, really.
Home. It hurt unbearably to think that she might never see her family or Astana again. If her plan failed, she would not. Even if it succeeded, would Joshua allow her back into the city? Surely he would not be cruel enough to forbid her. But he was not a man who suffered insubordination well. She had disobeyed the baron’s direct orders. Banishment would be acceptable punishment in the eyes of the Donetski people.
Tears filled her eyes, thinking about Marli, Elise, and her brothers, but she blinked them back.
She really should put out the fire.
But it was so warm and friendly. And she felt so alone.
Put it out, Anya. After all, when she reached her destination, she could light as many fires as she wished. And after she fought for peace, she would be her own woman. No one would ever rule her life again. No one would ever sell her again. Like Joshua had, for peace. And to keep his title of Baron, she reminded herself.
Unfolding her trowel, Anya chipped up a mound of frozen ice and mud and cast it onto the fire. It flickered, but didn’t go out.
“Don’t put it out on my account.”
The low, rough voice made her gasp, and she whipped out her laser.
Joshua.
He seemed to fill the entrance. The elite, cream military parka made his shoulders seem wider, his body more solid and forbidding.
“You.” Hands trembling, she lowered the weapon.
“Of course it’s me. I’m your protector, foolish girl. Who did you thin
k would come for you?”
Palpable fury simmered in him, deep and hot, yet tightly leashed, as were every one of his emotions, always. In the past, she had wished that just once she could break through the impenetrable shell he enclosed around himself. Just once, she’d like to see him snap, to glimpse the true man underneath all the medals and the power that fit him like a glove. To especially see beyond the shiny honor of hero worship with which she’d clothed him when they had first met. She had always wanted to please him.
No more.
Anya realized now that Joshua was the lone pilot. Part of her had known it all along, and it was why she had worked so hard to stay hidden. Joshua was clever and the bank of medals on his uniform proved the Donetsk legend that he was difficult to outwit. Apparently, she hadn’t done a good enough job.
“I didn’t want to be found,” she said shortly, reholstering the laser.
“Then you should have put out your fire.”
Yes, she should have. So, was this to be the end result of all her efforts, of walking at night, freezing the exposed bits of her skin to a brittle crust? All for what? To be found in three days?
Joshua entered her cave. Invaded it, it felt like. His personality and presence felt as strong as a magnet to her soul…to her foolish heart. She looked away. “I didn’t want to be found,” she repeated. “Go home.”
“What was your goal? To go south? Meet your uncle?”
He was too smart by half. But he didn’t need to know her true plan. He’d only forbid it. Then she would need to mutiny against him again. Simpler to stay silent and plot her escape.
He said, “Onred thinks the marriage offer was a trick. He’s threatening to attack.”
Anya had hoped that wouldn’t happen. Now she’d need to get to her uncle’s stronghold even faster.
“Onred can go to hell,” she bit out, ignoring the inbred guilt for uttering the crude words. After a moment, she baldly finished, “And so can you.” That should make it clear that she would not return home with him.
“I’ve never allowed you to swear at me before.” His voice held a soft bite. “I won’t begin now.”
Heat flashed. She didn’t want to feel guilty. However, ingrained respect made it difficult to ignore the quiet chastisement. As well, his soft tone was misleading. She knew the inflexible steel that lived inside him. And the unswerving determination to have his own way, no matter the price.
But the real truth was far worse. She wanted to please him. Still.
“I’m sorry,” she allowed. “But you’re no longer my protector. You discharged me, remember? Your authority over me has ended.”
To her complete, consternated surprise, he swiftly closed the distance between them. She leaped to her feet, reaching for her knife.
His hand was on her jaw before she could draw a breath, and he tilted up her chin. His fingers felt cool, yet firm, and her heart pounded much harder than she liked.
“What happened to you?”
Disconcerted, Anya jerked her chin back. “It’s from the fall. I mean, the landing.”
“It’s a bad gash.” Ignoring her retreat, he cupped her chin again, angling it up so he could see better. His fingers unexpectedly gentled, and for a second felt unbearably tender. “You are all right?”
Flustered, she swallowed. “Yes.”
A heartbeat elapsed, and then he released her. He loomed very close now, a few inches taller than she. His broad shoulders blocked part of the firelight, and his tawny hair was rumpled. He looked disarmingly approachable. But she knew better. He hadn’t accomplished his mission yet.
She took a step back. “Go.” Distinctly, she added, “Just so we’re clear, I won’t go home with you. I will not marry that disgusting Onred.”
The dark eyes held hers. “Is there someone else?”
“No.”
No one but you. Anya swallowed. She would never admit that wretched truth to her unattainable protector. How could her heart so quickly forget that he had sold her and refused to reconsider his decision, even after she had begged him to do so?
Again surprising her, he went down on his knee and took up a cross-legged position near the fire. “Perhaps we can negotiate.”
Another disarming pose. She had sensed the heat and force of his anger when he had first arrived. Once again, he was strictly under control. Wasn’t he always?
Anya sat, but not too close. The fire felt warm, and that heat doubled when Joshua fed a branch into the licking flames. A blast of warmth hit her face as the flames leaped higher. She shivered.
“Cold?” he murmured, not looking at her, and fed in another branch.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I can see that.”
“I don’t need you anymore.”
Quietly, Joshua said, “I need you. Your territory needs you. We can make things right.”
“No!” Agitated, she sprang to her knees, but his swift, light pressure on her wrist stayed her.
“Thousands more will die.”
“Thousands will die anyway. Onred is dishonorable. He won’t keep his word.”
Joshua’s gaze cut sharper. “You don’t trust him.”
“Of course not! Not after…” She cut the words short.
He prodded, “After what?”
Anya refused to reveal her humiliation to him. Joshua had a way of making her feel far more vulnerable than she wanted to feel. She wouldn’t slice that part of herself open to him, too. He already wielded far too much power over her heart.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
His thumb rubbed her wrist, as though absently, but his brown eyes gleamed tawny and warm in the leaping firelight. They held hers. “Tell me.” That gaze softened something inside of her, and beckoned her to give him everything he wanted.
She closed her eyes to break the spell. How weak she was to him. Did he know? Did he suspect? She should hate him. He had sold her!
He waited.
Why not tell him, she thought recklessly. It would shock him, as he deserved. Yes. Why not?
So, looking into the fire, so she wouldn’t have to see his expression of disgust when he learned of the soiled creature she had become, she told him everything that Onred had done. Bitterly, she finished, “Onred said that he’d paid for me. That he had the right to do anything he wanted.” Then she shot a glance at him.
Joshua stared into the fire, too. His shoulders moved up, and then down, matching the movement of a barely audible breath. His shoulders heaved again, and his skin unexpectedly flushed dark. He bolted to his feet and strode to the back of the cave.
She had shocked him; and a bit more violently than she had expected. Meanly, that felt good, after all that he had put her through.
Joshua silently paced for long minutes. After a while, it unnerved her.
“Well?” Anya said. “Aren’t you going to speak?”
He ground out, “You don’t want to hear it.”
“Are you really so shocked?”
“Yes!” The one word hissed through his teeth. “It’s my fault. I failed to protect you.”
Now her revenge felt petty. “It wasn’t your fault, Joshua.”
“It was. He knew.” His voice sounded rough.
Anya frowned. “Knew what?”
“That I…” His fists clenched, but he did not complete the sentence.
Joshua said no more, but his pacing stopped. He stared out of the cave, as if picturing a scene in his head. No expression flickered across his face. It disturbed her. Once again, he had bottled up his emotions.
“I won’t marry him,” Anya repeated, just to try to break through to him.
He nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets, but said nothing.
“Joshua, what are you thinking? You’re scaring me.”
* * * * *
Joshua could barely think for the white fury searing his brain. He burned to kill Onred, the bastard. He’d finally come to realize he was a jackal, but this…
His
fingers itched to squeeze the life from that leech’s throat even now. He had touched Anya. He had hurt her. Joshua’s mind would let him go no further. The broken, wild hellion of a boy he had once been wanted to break free and scream his rage to the heavens, then annihilate the man, his troops, his territory…everything Onred held dear.
A fine tremor seized Joshua as he struggled to keep himself under control. A violent loss of self control would accomplish none of his goals. The bastard would die. This was a certainty. Now he just had to plot how.
“Joshua, you’re scaring me.” Anya touched his arm and with a desperate twist to his head, he looked deep into her beautiful blue eyes. They were like clear waters that lapped at his soul and calmed him. They always had. They always would.
“You won’t marry him,” he said gruffly. “Come home with me.”
* * * * *
Relief was so swift and strong that Anya swayed a bit, feeling light-headed. Could it be so simple? She could go home. Everything would go on as it had before. She looked down at her fingers, still on Joshua’s arm.
Then, slowly, she removed them. No. It could not. For the first time, she saw this truth clearly. She would die. She would waste away from wanting a man who would never want her…who could never want her. “What about peace?”
“Peace will wait for another day. Pack your things. We’re going home.”
She stepped back. “I won’t go with you.”
Joshua’s gaze narrowed.
“I’ve made a clean break. I want to start a new life.”
“No.”
“I’ve said my goodbyes.”
“Your family needs you.”
Ice Baron (Ice Chronicles, Book One (science fiction romance)) Page 4
