Drifter

by Leslie Georgeson

  Her breath caught as they continued to stare at each other. Heat crept into her cheeks. Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest. He wasn’t very old. About her age. Late twenties, his features smooth, chiseled, well proportioned. And those soul-searing, amber-gold eyes with their reptilian-like pupils…

  “Do you mind?” His voice was low, gruff. “Someone is going to see me if you don’t lower the tarp.” When she continued to stare, he quirked a brow. “Does seeing my face make you feel better?”

  Kate dropped the tarp, her heart pounding furiously. No. Not really. He left her feeling rattled. Shaky. Breathless.

  Get a grip, Kate. You don’t even know who the guy is.

  He’s dangerous. He’s a beast.

  She would be wise to just help him find his friend, then bid him farewell.

  She yanked the cart forward again, his soft laughter ringing in her ears.

  Kate would be wise to stay as far away from him as possible.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mitch chuckled as the vegetable trader pulled the tarp back over the cart, hiding him from view. She was spunky. Bold. Unpredictable.

  Which made her dangerous.

  He was beginning to suspect he’d chosen the wrong cart to hide in. He couldn’t predict what she might do next. For all he knew, she might yank off the tarp and hand him over to Ronin’s soldiers.

  Which would mean certain death for him.

  The cart jostled as she pulled it forward, bouncing over ruts and rocks in the dry ground. Mitch bounced along with it, smashing vegetables beneath him, the juices soaking through his clothes. The cart came to an abrupt halt, tossing him backward. His head slammed into the back of the cart. Ouch. Was she trying to knock him out? He rubbed his sore head. He suspected she’d done that on purpose. Not that he blamed her. He wouldn’t be in her cart if he had another way into Aftermath without detection.

  Feminine voices came from outside the cart, then the tarp pulled back and the trader’s deep-set, dark chocolate-brown eyes locked on his.

  Something long dead stirred inside him. Awareness.

  Damn, she has pretty eyes.

  He let his gaze travel over the rest of her face. The funny-looking hat on her head shadowed her features, so all he was able to see was her pursing her lips before she looked away and tossed vegetables aside, searching for something. Finally, she lifted an orange bell pepper and three Roma tomatoes from the cart and turned away, lowering the tarp back over the cart.

  “Here you go, miss. Thank you.” The tarp lifted again and she tossed a brick of cheese inside.

  Mitch caught the cheese and grinned. His stomach growled with hunger. It had been days since he’d had a decent meal. He’d sampled a few of the trader’s tomatoes, and a red bell pepper, but most of the other vegetables were inedible until cooked. He unwrapped the cheese and sank his teeth into the brick, tearing off a large chunk. He sighed with pleasure as he chewed the fresh goat cheese.

  The cart jostled forward again, bouncing him around. Voices came and went as she traded with other people. A loaf of bread sailed over the side of the cart. Mitch tore off a chunk, chewed and swallowed. He needed a drink.

  She reached in and grabbed more vegetables and turned away. Then her slender arm came back and set a jug of milk near his feet.

  Mitch unscrewed the cap and gulped down several swallows of fresh milk. His hunger dissipating, he settled back into the vegetables to wait until dark. He didn’t stop to think about how rude he was being. He was hungry and the food was there. What more could he say? Besides, he planned to make it up to the woman once he found Ethan and got out of here. He would bring her some meat in exchange for everything he’d taken from her.

  The woman traded with people for the next hour or two, striking up conversations with the residents as she went. Mitch listened to their banter and learned that Ronin had recently returned to Aftermath. Ronin must have lost control of the drifters. While that was good news, it meant Mitch needed to be extra alert. Ronin could sniff him out like a bloodhound. Mitch couldn’t dally here too long. He needed to find Ethan and get the hell out of Aftermath.

  The trader woman concluded her trades and set a few more items into the cart: a pink hoodie sweatshirt, a basket of eggs, a bag of flour. Finally, she chucked a ham into the cart. The ham landed right on his stomach. The breath left his lungs in a startled whoosh. Then he chuckled. She’d done that on purpose. She was definitely expressing her displeasure with him. She probably couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

  The cart moved forward again.

  The voices faded away.

  Finally, after several minutes, the cart drew to a halt. How much time had passed since they’d entered the colony? Two hours? Three? Had the sun gone down yet?

  It was quiet. Too quiet. Had she gone away, leaving her cart unattended? Not likely. She wouldn’t abandon the items she’d just traded for.

  Had she alerted the soldiers to his presence and at that very moment they were sneaking up on him? Mitch tensed. He very slowly lifted his bow from the squished vegetables. Slipping his other hand into the gooey pile, he felt for his quiver of arrows. He extracted an arrow and fitted the nock into the string of the bow. And waited.

  The tarp pulled away in a quick swirl of fabric. Mitch lifted the bow and pulled the arrow back, leaping to his feet and crouching low, all in one swift movement.

  The trader woman stood before him, hands on her hips. She’d removed the ugly sun hat and now clutched it in her right hand. Mitch let his gaze jog around, noting that they were in an alley of some kind, behind the main building. Alone. The sun was almost down now. Thank God.

  He slowly lowered the bow, but he didn’t let go of the arrow. Just in case.

  The woman swallowed hard, drawing his gaze to her slender, delicate throat. The soft, tender throat he’d gripped in his hand not long ago. Though he tried not to check her out, his eyes disobeyed him. He was only human, after all—or, at least, mostly human. He hadn’t been able to see her clearly earlier because the sun had been behind her when she’d stuck her head into the cart and the ugly hat had obscured her features. His poor eyes had been starved of feminine beauty for so long that he couldn’t help but stare. Mid-to-late twenties. Straight black hair that was pulled back with a piece of leather and ended just above her ass. His gaze traveled down her body, noting her thinness, her small breasts and round, feminine hips, her flat stomach and lean, toned arms, then raked back up until it finally rested on her face.

  Her features were intensely feminine, soft and perfectly sculpted. Well, maybe not perfectly. Her nose was a little big. And she looked tired. She was certainly pretty, though a bit ragged, probably from her travels across the dry landscape. But it was her eyes that drew him in, capturing his attention and making him curious about her. Big and dark and cautious, they hinted at a strength he suspected went much deeper than he’d witnessed thus far. This woman had suffered. And it had made her stronger. Who was she? What was her story?

  I don’t care. I’m only here to find Ethan and get the hell out.

  Her lips puckered into a scowl. “I hide you and this is how you thank me, by almost shooting me with an arrow?”

  Mitch cleared his throat. She was definitely not a pushover. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought it might be…a soldier.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You look very much like a soldier yourself.” She let out a soft gasp and backed away from the cart. “Oh my God, you’re one of them, aren’t you? What is this, some kind of con? What do you want with me? I’m warning you, I won’t go down without a fight.” She yanked a small pocket knife from the front pocket of her faded jeans. Flipping it open, she held it out in front of her defensively. The hat fell from her hand, forgotten in the dirt.

  Mitch let out a snort. She thought he was going to rape her? As if. He snatched up his quiver of arrows and hooked it over his shoulder. Then he hopped out of the cart.

  The trader woman leapt aside, her eyes wide and wary, pointing the
knife at him.

  He paused, studying her for a moment. He supposed she was right to be afraid of him. There were many men who would try to rape her. And judging from the wariness on her face and the fear he sensed coming off of her, some may even have succeeded.

  He could easily disarm her. But he didn’t need to. She was harmless. And she wouldn’t stand a chance against him—with or without the knife.

  “I used to be one of them. Not by choice, and not anymore. And I told you, I’m only here to find someone, then I’m leaving.”

  Mitch slipped into the shadows at the side of the building and yanked the hoodie over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of vegetables, sweat, and grime that radiated off him. He needed a bath. And clean clothes. Neither would be easy to come by now that the soldiers had overtaken Aftermath and Mitch had been labeled a traitor.

  The woman hesitated a moment, glancing around. Features that had been wary moments ago were now filled with curiosity. She hurried after him.

  Instinct caused Mitch to jerk back until he hit the wall. He didn’t like people in his personal space. And touching was to be avoided at all costs. He preferred that she be afraid of him and stay back. Way back.

  She paused. “You’re afraid of me?” Her disbelief wrapped around him. She lowered the knife, folding it and stuffing it back in her pocket. Then her lips curved into a smirk. “Seriously?”

  Her amusement irritated him. “No. I’m not afraid of you. But you should be afraid of me.” He shoved away from the wall, marching toward her, attempting to scare her away.

  She bounced aside, her eyes widening. Her fear returned, radiating off her, pulling at his predatory instinct to chase and subdue. He ignored it. He was not in the mood to go hunting. Especially for women.

  Mitch glanced both ways down the alley. Garbage spilled out of a bin against the wall about ten feet to his left, the stench overwhelming his nostrils. Now that Ronin’s army resided primarily at Aftermath, the trash had more than doubled. In the opposite direction, an old woman entered the back of the building with a basket of dirty laundry, closing the door behind her without even looking at him. No one else was around.

  The trader woman continued to study him. Her intense scrutiny caused him to twitch and squirm with discomfort. Mitch turned his head and glared at her, making his eyes glow in warning. “Go away, woman. I don’t need you anymore. I’ll finish this task on my own.”

  She let out a soft gasp, her hand flying to her mouth, her gaze locked on his. “What are you?”

  “Hey! You there!”

  Mitch jerked his head to the right. A tall, black soldier stood at the end of the alley.

  Lionel. Ronin’s right-hand man.

  Shit. Mitch glanced at the opposite end of the alley. He closed his eyes and imagined himself there.

  He opened his eyes moments later and found himself at the opposite end of the alley. The trader woman stood at the other end, glancing around, wide-eyed, looking for him. Mitch slipped around the corner before she discovered where he’d gone.

  And found himself face-to-face with Ronin, the leader of the Slayers.

  The man who was hunting him.

  * * *

  Ronin blinked.

  What the fuck?

  He was seeing things. He had to be. Mitchell couldn’t possibly be standing right in front of him.

  Before Ronin could determine whether that were true, Mitchell disappeared.

  Ronin blinked again. Mitchell was not where he’d been moments before.

  Ronin was losing it. The damn drifters had messed with his mind.

  He’d almost made it to the mountain a few days ago before the little bastards had suddenly stopped following him and turned around, heading back across the savannah.

  Which could only mean one thing: Honest Gabe hadn’t died after all.

  Ronin had had no choice but to come back to Aftermath. Without the drifters, he couldn’t control the mountain. So he’d returned, arriving just hours ago. He now had to find and kill Honest Gabe before a new leader emerged from within the drifter pack. Which seemed unlikely at best, impossible at worst. Ronin had stopped at Honest Gabe’s on his way back here, but the place was deserted. Honest Gabe had somehow survived and slipped away. Now Ronin would have to start all over again. And that pissed him off. He was on a mission now to kill. Determined to eliminate Mitchell, Honest Gabe and the redhead. All of them must die. And soon. That mountain and all its power were destined to be his.

  Which lead him back to what he’d thought he’d seen moments ago.

  Had he imagined coming face-to-face with Mitchell, the betrayer? Was his mind really playing tricks on him?

  No. He hadn’t imagined that. Mitchell had been there.

  Mitchell had disappeared once before. Right after Ronin had beat the shit out of him.

  No fucking way. Why hadn’t he figured that one out before?

  Was Mitchell able to teleport?

  Son-of-a-bitch!

  Ronin darted around the corner just in time to see Mitchell disappear again.

  Ronin teleported to the end of the alley where a slim, dark-haired woman stood in confusion, glancing around.

  “Where did he go?” Ronin grabbed her arm. “Tell me where he went.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. “Who? The used-to-be soldier? I have no idea. One second he was here, the next he was gone. I don’t think he’s human.”

  Ronin snorted and released her. “Oh, he’s human.” I just don’t know how much. He glanced up and down the alleyway, watching for movement. He sniffed the air, searching for Mitchell’s scent.

  Nothing.

  Instead, he detected the smells of vegetables, pork, flour, dairy…all coming from the trader woman’s cart.

  Normally, Ronin could scent a person without any effort. But Mitchell was wily. He’d probably masked his scent with something stronger.

  Lionel strode forward, along with two other soldiers. He twirled one end of his bushy mustache between his fingers. “I think I saw Mitch a moment ago, but I can’t be sure.”

  “It was him.” This confirmed it. Mitchell had returned. What was the traitor up to? “I want the entire place searched. Gather all the residents into the main room. No one sleeps until he’s found. Check all the traders’ carts. He must have snuck inside in one of them.”

  The woman inched away from him, her eyes growing huge.

  Ronin snagged her arm, bringing her to a halt. “You know something, don’t you? Tell me.”

  She swallowed hard. “I-uh, found him in my cart. He jumped out and disappeared before I could figure out who he was or what he was doing there.”

  Ronin eyed her for a long moment. She was quite stunning, long black hair, big dark eyes, smooth, olive-colored skin. Unfortunately, she was too skinny for his taste. He preferred round, full, voluptuous women. Despite her prettiness, she wouldn’t do. He needed to go find himself a woman with lots of curves. Like the redhead who had gotten away. Thanks to Mitchell.

  He thrust her aside.

  Mitchell would pay for that too when Ronin caught him. Traitors deserved to be punished harshly. Traitors deserved to die.

  “You will join in the search, woman.” He snared her with his gaze. “Come along. You will tell me everything you know. You will help me bring the traitor in.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The last thing Kate needed was coming under the radar of Ronin Dred. But that was exactly where she now found herself. He dragged her over to her vegetable cart while the alley filled with soldiers who searched for the stranger. What had the man done to make Ronin hunt him like this?

  Ronin peered into the cart, noting the squashed vegetables. He reached in and pulled out a hand-made arrow. Turning it slowly, he inspected it, sniffed it.

  “Yep. This is Mitchell’s arrow. His scent is here. He was here recently.”

  Mitchell? That was the stranger’s name? Who was he? What was he?

  Ronin jerked his hard gaze to hers,
his eyes black as death. “You sure you don’t know where he went?”

  Kate swallowed hard. I will not be afraid. I will do whatever he wants. I don’t want to die.

  She shook her head. “He was here one second, gone the next. He just…vanished. What is he?”

  Ronin snorted. “He’s a traitor. The enemy. He must die.”

  Kate shivered. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Ronin about the man. A trickle of guilt slithered under her skin. Mitchell hadn’t done anything to hurt her other than scare the crap out of her. In fact, now that she thought about it, his hand really hadn’t been that tight around her throat. Had he used her fear to make her think he was dangerous? Had he been bluffing the whole time?

  Kate had to admire a man who was brave enough to betray Ronin Dred. Everyone feared Ronin. Including her. And for good reason. Ronin was evil. Far from human.

  Kate cleared her throat. She would join in the search for the stranger, Mitchell, but instead of turning him in when she found him, she would help him escape. Helping someone elude Ronin’s evil clutches would give her great satisfaction. And maybe, just maybe, Mitchell would help her in return.

  Is that really a good idea, Kate? You don’t know anything about this Mitchell person. You don’t even know if he’s human.

  He’d said something about a person he was there to find. If she helped him, maybe he would help her. She needed someone to teach her how to defend herself better in this harsh world. Her little pocket knife wouldn’t deter everyone. If she helped him escape, would he teach her how to use a bow and arrow to protect herself and to hunt for food?

  She glanced back at Ronin. “What did he do?”

  Ronin snapped the arrow in two and looked down at her. “He betrayed me. That’s all you need to know.” He paused as he continued to study her. “If you help me find him, I will reward you handsomely.”