The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1)

by Melissa Riddell

  A harsh laugh spills from my throat. “No, that’s where you’re wrong. Neither one of us is good for each other. He’s a liar and thinks I am, too. You can’t have a relationship without truth and trust.”

  Tired of the conversation, and wanting to leave before Jackass Jareth gets back, I shoulder past Sparky to duck into the tent. Once I grab my gear, I begin walking across camp.

  Kodiak is at my leg, keeping pace and swinging his head in my direction every few steps.

  “Boy, let’s get out of here. We’re better off without that arrogant prick. I don’t need anyone but you.”

  What was I thinking by traveling with that douchebag?

  Tail held high, the dog prances to his empty food bowl. He lowers his head and plants the dish between his teeth. When he trots back to me, he drops it at my feet, letting out a woof.

  “So, you’ve had enough of Jareth’s crap, too.”

  The snapping of twigs announces the pompous ass walking into camp.

  I throw my sling over a shoulder and slide my arms through my pack, not bothering to turn. Checking my boot to make sure my pistol’s secure, I head the opposite direction from where Jareth is entering.

  Jareth’s voice reverberates through the trees. “Damn it, Tilly, get back here.”

  Two words leave my mouth. “Fuck. You.”

  Kodiak’s head turns toward camp and he yips twice.

  “That’s right, boy, we don’t need him. He’s a son of a bitch who lies and pretends to care.” I make sure my voice is loud and carries through the darkness.

  Branches and thorns grab at my hair and face. I avoid their angry claws for the most part but can’t quit glancing at the sky. The memory of the massive starship coming back makes my legs work faster.

  Unsure which direction I’m heading, I pause to grab the map out of my backpack—and then remember I don’t have it.

  A low groan comes from my chest. The map’s in Jareth’s gear because he’s been spearheading the Florida expedition. “Can this night get any worse?”

  I stop between the trunks of two enormous cypress trees and kick at a rock on the ground, sending it soaring into some briars—deep breath in, deep breath out.

  Okay, Tilly. Think about this logically. What are your options?

  Wait for him to go to sleep and then try to sneak it out of his rucksack?

  That’s a dumbass idea.

  Wait for him to sleep and then slit his throat?

  Hmm. That has possibilities.

  No other alternative in mind, I’ll wait until the sun rises, then start heading east. I’m sure I can find another map in a store or stalled car.

  Or you could go back and apologize for calling him a coward.

  “No way. I’m not apologizing—not after what he said.”

  Okay, but you started it.

  Because he frustrates me by not sharing everything he knows. I’ve told him every important thing about my life, yet he holds his own past close to his heart, unwilling to dole out any information. It’s frustrating, and it made me lash out with the only thing I could think of that would hurt him, by throwing cowardice in his face.

  Guilt washes over me. That was a pretty shitty thing to do, Tilly.

  I glance at Kodiak, who sits on his hind legs and keeps an eye on the sky, too.

  “We don’t have a map, boy, but I don’t want to go back to that jackass like some kind of beggar. What am I going to do?”

  Kodiak lets out a soft whine and lowers his front legs to the ground. His ears cock, then he stands and tries to give me a paw.

  My brow wrinkles. “You want to play, right now? It’s kind of a bad time to—”

  Realization hits me like a speeding truck. “Shake and make up, huh?” The taste of swallowing my pride appeals to me about as well as those artichokes did.

  His teeth show when his lips pull back. He stands and starts wagging his tail, fine hairs swishing back and forth.

  “I don’t want to make up with that conceited, womanizing, arrogant asshat.” My hands rest on my hips, as if the posture will help me find another solution.

  The quiet snap of a twig comes from behind.

  Out of reflex, I grab the shotgun from my shoulder and whirl.

  Kodiak’s ears perk, but he doesn’t growl.

  Sighing, I lower the weapon. “I know it’s you, asshole.”

  Jareth peeps out from around one of the tree trunks. The gentle light from the moon and stars create shadows beneath his cheeks.

  “You’re not going to shoot me, are you?” Though teasing, I can hear an undertone of unease.

  “Nope. Wouldn’t want to waste my ammo.”

  He slides all the way into view, face calm, and hands upraised. “I’m sorry I’m an ass. I should’ve never said that to you.

  “What part are you sorry for? The lying or—”

  “I just wanted to hurt you back. Please forgive me.”

  I refuse to meet his eyes. His words did hurt. But I’m just as guilty by taking his pain and throwing it in his face, even after he came back from the ordeal scarred, but stronger.

  My chest moves up and down with each breath of air. I inspect the sky. How does he have so much knowledge about the aliens? There must be a human resistance, and this gives me confidence.

  The sky offers no solutions, so I meet his eyes and they melt my heart with one look.

  I swallow a couple of times to make my throat work. “I’m—I’m sorry, too. You’re not a coward. I was angry you wouldn’t share everything with me.”

  He sighs and takes a step closer. “I know.” His voice is quiet. “And I promise, when the time’s right, I’ll tell you—all of it. But for now, let it drop, okay?”

  My head nods in agreement, but I say no more.

  A strong, wiry arm wraps around my shoulders, and a brief scent of leather from his jacket reaches my nose. “Now let’s get back and fix camp before Sparky destroys what’s left.”

  “Just because we’re making up doesn’t mean I’m not going to forget.” I try to push his arm away. “And how the hell am I going to reach Florida hiding from those big ass starships, too?”

  Stepping over some fallen logs, he holds loose branches out of the way, so I can cross the downed wood.

  “Thanks.” The word comes out a bit on the forced side.

  “They’re not going to come back anytime soon.” White teeth flash in the dark while he nibbles his lips.

  “You don’t know that.” Or does he? What’s he not sharing?

  “But, just in case, we’ll stick to dirt roads from now on. It should keep us a little safer and take us farther away from any areas that might have gathering populations—”

  “Humans or aliens?”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll get you to Florida, one way or another.”

  That’s the problem—it’s a challenge to believe someone when he keeps secrets.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s midday, and I stand at a chalky white county road that forks. The tension between Jareth and me has eased, and I try to push last night from my mind—both the starship and the fight. What’s worse—I’m not sure which bothers me the most, our first fight, or his secrets.

  Jareth consults the map. “I think”—he points to the right—“It’s this way.”

  Dust puffs behind me like mushroom clouds after each step over the loose, soil-covered surface.

  Kodiak runs to a mesquite fence post and waters it with urine.

  “What are you doing, goof? There aren’t going to be any dogs coming along. Besides, even if there were, they’re not going to care about your mark. They’ll cover it with their own piss, after you’re long gone.”

  Sniffing and raising his snout to the air, the dog falls behind to walk with Sparky.

  The robot, quiet since last night, is aloof. Seeing that ship has made him moody.

  “What’s going on in that metal head of yours, Sparky?”

  His dark helmet shifts in my direc
tion, and I hang back a little, letting him catch up.

  “Nothing, Tilly.” His gaze turns to the road.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. Yes, he’s the enemy, but last night, whatever it was he did, saved the group.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be shy now. You can tell me.”

  Jareth walks a little farther ahead, broad shoulders covered with the leather jacket, map held in front of his chest. He walks without the usual spring in his step, and his head tips to the sky, as if doublechecking the coast is clear.

  I nudge Sparky’s upper arm with my shoulder. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  Fields pass on either side. The sky’s a cloudless, glorious blue. The bright sun helps to buffer the chilly gusts of wind that sweep down the road. Most deciduous trees wear shades of orange, yellow and red. Several crispy leaves swirl and tumble to the road with the breeze, scraping the road when they land.

  “Tilly, it is nothing.” He pauses for a moment. “That is untrue. It is something. However, I cannot expect a mere human to understand it.”

  “Well, hell, thanks a lot.”

  That’s the last time I try to engage him in conversation.

  “Thanks for calling me a dumbass.” As my mother would say: No good deed goes unpunished. Lesson learned.

  Leaving the robot, I speed up and walk next to Jareth. I’m antsy, and not sure if it’s the thought of a spaceship the size of a football field hovering over the top of my head, or Jareth’s revelations last night.

  Several ranch-style homes, complete with overgrown wheat and hay fields, dot the landscape. Their barbed-wire fences need repairs at random junctions.

  A group of horses run wild in the straw.

  Jareth looks back at me with an arched brow. “You thinking what I am?” He stops, resting an arm on a post next to a gate.

  That you’re an ass?

  I clamp down on that reflection and keep it to myself. “Maybe.” Those beasts would be a fast ride to Florida and save dwindling food supplies. Or I could use one to kick his disgustingly handsome face the next time he pisses me off. “They could shave weeks off the trip, get me to Sissy faster.”

  I amble to the fence and halt next to him.

  “Bingo. You win a prize.”

  “Smartass.”

  While I inspect the layout of the land, I can feel his stare roving over my face. A long piece of hair whips by my head, and I tuck it behind my ear, still ignoring him.

  His voice drops. “What’s wrong?”

  My heart thuds, and I grip the rough fence a little tighter. “Nothing.” Six or seven of the large, magnificent horses mill about, cropping at green grass underneath and in-between the wheat.

  Nothing is wrong, and everything is wrong, but I don’t know how to put my feelings into words. So, I brush it off and try to get my headspace clear.

  Out of my side vision, his body turns to face mine, even though I’m still propped against the fence. “It doesn’t look like nothing to me, it looks like something and I want to know what it is.”

  “Yeah, well, people in hell want ice water.”

  His finger grazes back and forth over my arm. The touch is sensual, delicious, and distracting.

  I pull my arm closer to my body, and he sighs.

  Concentrate on the potential new transportation, Tilly, not on the man who’s going to send you to the looney bin if you don’t stop thinking about him.

  Even though I’m a Texas girl, I’ve ridden a horse once—and there’s a good reason why it was my first—and last—attempt trying to be a cowgirl. I’m not sure how I made it back to the barn in one piece that day years ago, but I’m certain the horse was just as happy to dump its cargo as I was to lose the ride.

  Sissy’s face looms closer when I contemplate how many more miles I could cover if I can somehow manage to keep myself upright on one of these beasts.

  A small trail from the gate leads to a large barn in the distance. It’s maroon with bold, white letters on the roof that declare Gig ‘em Aggies.

  “Guess they were Aggie fans.” The garish paintjob makes the building pop against the lighter hues of hay and wheat. “It’s gotta be one of the ugliest barns I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Jareth runs a hand across the top railing of the fence. “I bet there’s tack and gear inside, but how do we get a saddle on their backs?”

  Nearby, a horse nibbles on grass a little over six yards from the fence, and my eyes widen. He’s huge.

  Draping my arms to hang over the rough, ax-hewn mesquite fence, I rest a foot on the lower beam. The sea of grass, straw, and wheat rolls with the breeze. All I need is a cowboy hat and a piece of hay to chew on, and I’d be a poster child for times gone by.

  He eyes the horses and rubs his chin. “I bet I can tame them.”

  My head snaps to his face. Is he being serious?

  “You ever rode a horse before?” I try to keep the humor out of my voice.

  He doesn’t strike me as a cowboy. Outdoorsy, yes—more of a mountain climber.

  “Uh, dealing with horses takes more than good looks, bluster, and charm. It takes skill.”

  Consideration narrows his gaze while he watches the herd. “How complicated can it be? Surely, they still remember people. I don’t plan on introducing myself empty-handed, either. I’ve got a secret weapon in my arsenal.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down. “Remember those carrots from the cave? There’s a couple in my pack. They might be a little squishy, but I bet the horses won’t mind.”

  I snort, already picturing it in my head. Him, offering a floppy carrot and then getting clobbered on sight. “Well, you better get to it, then, horse whisperer. It sounds like you got yourself a hot date.”

  The image of him falling on his ass cheers me. I’m still a little butt hurt and vindictive from our fight. Be nice, Tilly. You both tried to hurt each other, so let it go already. He’s complex, irritating, and impossible, but I crave him like a flower yearns for rain.

  Doomed, I’m so doomed.

  “Got your running shoes on?” I’m sure he’ll be able to get away before the horses begin to stampede. Probably. Another snort follows when I picture him running for his life.

  One side of his mouth tips, then he refocuses on the animals. “Chuckle now, but you’ll be in awe when I come back riding a majestic steed. You’ll be begging to mount me, err, it.” His profile shows the deep dimple. He gives me a side glance and purses his lips.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’d already lassoed the horse and was presenting it as a prize.

  “Wow, so smooth. I bet you were quite the catch back in the day with those witty one-liners.” I shake my head, swinging my hair with the motion.

  No matter how I try to hold onto the hurt and anger, I can’t stay mad at this jackass. Somehow, he’s wedged himself under my skin and in my heart—lies or not—and is a part of me.

  Face so serious, he looks like he expects the horses to gallop right into his arms. Another deep laugh doubles me over. My fingers wipe away a couple of tears, and I straighten.

  Jareth has one hand on a hip and shades his eyes with the other.

  One more giggle, and then I pull myself together. “The only thing majestic that’s going to happen is you getting kicked into a royal pile of horse shit.”

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you”—he grabs his chest as if in pain—“words spoken in haste hurt those you love.”

  “I think we learned that lesson last night. And get over yourself. Besides, why would they want an old mushy carrot when they have free range vegetation all around?” I spread my hands toward the field. “Shit, I bet you won’t make it to within ten feet of the herd before you’re trampled, or they run away.”

  Chocolate eyes—framed in dark, curled lashes—gaze at me with a deep-seated longing. In their depths, they hold a secret and flash in excitement.

  His lazy grin emerges, and he slides along the fence right into my space, arm brushing against mine.

  “Hmm
, a bet, huh? I’ll take you up on that, Red.” His lids drop, hooding his eyes. “What are the stakes?”

  Unable to fight my sense of adventure at this new game, I rub my palms together in anticipation. “I do love a good challenge.”

  There’s no way he’s going to convince a horse—or those horses—to take on a passenger. It’s obvious they’ve reverted to their wild state in the absence of humans. So, this is going to be an easy win for me, and I can’t wait to rub it in his face.

  “What do I want for winning the bet?” I ponder my options for a few seconds, tapping a finger on my chin.

  Taking in his cocky face, I think about making him tell me the truth about his past as a condition, but something holds me back. It’s too soon. He needs space in the same way I needed it to talk about my experience in that motel. I’m willing to compromise, for now, and give him what he needs.

  Sparky and Kodiak stand next to the fence, too, and observe the animals. Kodiak’s whiskers twitch every time one of the horse’s tails swish. The robot just stands—and I wonder if he’s recording the conversation unfolding.

  What would be the worst kind of punishment for Jareth, something that would knock his haughty ass down a few notches? “Since I’m going to win, how about you tear down and set up camp every day for the next week and cook supper.”

  “I already cook supper because I’m terrified you’ll skewer a squirrel, skunk, or some other mystery meat.” His lips twist to one side of his mouth.

  An evil chuckle rises from my throat. “So, the bet’s off, then? You’re scared you’ll lose to a girl, just admit it.”

  “Camp duty, huh?” He grimaces, as if thinking of what a lost bet would entail.

  I rub it in. “Yep, every day for a week. Wash dishes, get the fire going, erecting the tent, and setting the traps. Oh, and whatever else I deem needs looking after. If I say jump, you ask how high. Still wanna play, pretty boy?” My lips pucker and I blow a raspberry.

  His fingers caress his beard, and he glances to where the horses gather, nipping the tall grass. “Okay. I’ll accept the bet.” There’s a devilish gleam in his eyes. “But if I win, I get a kiss.”

  My stomach drops. That was not a boon I was expecting, and I twist my head away for a moment, not wanting him to read my face.