She waited anxiously as Trouble sniffed the air, but he only looked up at her, his tongue lolling, and started trotting up the path again. She followed behind him, her hands shaking, and took a firm grip on the blue pipe.
They were almost at the turnoff for the landing pad when an eerie cry came from ahead of them. Trouble stepped in front of her, peering into the darkness. His small body somehow looked larger as a long, challenging moan came from his throat. The cry sounded again in response, and Trouble looked ready to leap into the darkness.
Despite the terror racing through her veins, she couldn’t let him tackle whatever was hiding there. She bent down and gathered him up in one arm, gripping her dart in her opposite hand. Trouble quivered, straining in her arm, but she wasn’t about to let him free. Another cry, and then a strange, lizard-like creature landed on the path ahead of them. It wasn’t large, no bigger than a small dog, but as it opened its mouth to let out another cry, she could see the multiple rows of teeth so common on Pardor. It prowled toward them, seemingly unconcerned by the increasing crescendo of growls from Trouble. Yellow eyes gleamed, and moonlight reflected off its scales, mottled in a shifting pattern of light and dark.
She took a deep breath, praying that her hand wouldn’t shake, and let the dart fly. Her aim was true. The sharp point buried itself in the creature’s eye. She fought back a wave of sickness as the creature screeched and collapsed to the ground, but she had no time to succumb to weakness. Keeping hold of Trouble in case he decided to investigate the body, she stepped carefully over it. As soon as it was safely behind them, she let Trouble down and ran again.
A gasp of relief escaped when she reached the wide clearing where the village was located. She thought she detected the soft glow of lights deep in the jungle, but it could just as easily have been moonlight reflecting off the leaves. Still panting, she headed for where she thought Tanor’s cabin was located, but as soon as she stepped into the jungle, doubt assailed her. It looked like she was alone in the moonlight-splattered jungle.
God only knew what was happening to Aidon while she hesitated. She didn’t have time to search for his grandfather. Instead, she did the only thing that she could think to do.
“Tanor,” she called. The first cry was almost too soft to be heard, but she cleared her throat and tried again. “Tanor!”
This time her voice echoed through the jungle, and everything suddenly went still.
Her hand went back to her darts as she prayed that Aidon’s grandfather had heard her. The shadows around her seemed to shift, and she desperately tried to see any sign of a response. Then the vague, shadowy forms consolidated, and she realized she was surrounded by a group of Pardorian warriors, all of them in their true forms.
Her mouth went dry as she remembered Aidon’s words and Tanor’s warning.
“Who are you?” a voice asked. Even now she knew that they were there, they seemed to blend into the jungle, and it felt like the jungle itself was talking to her.
“I’m Hanna. Please, I need help—Aidon needs help.”
A muffled whisper echoed through the group, and then a tall figure stepped forward. Her hands shaking, she raised a dart.
“Please don’t come any closer. I don’t want to hurt anybody, but I have to speak to Tanor.”
A hand clamped down on the wrist holding the dart, and she struggled wildly.
“Easy, girl. No one is going to hurt you.”
She sobbed in relief, and she recognized Tanor’s voice.
“Chotgor captured Aidon,” she said desperately. “He’s going to torture him and then kill him. Please, you have to help him.”
“Who is Chotgor?”
“He’s a terrible man—I mean a male. Aidon thought he was dead back on Hothrest, but he’s not. He’s here, and he’s going to hurt Aidon.”
“Offworlders?” one of the shadowy figures said with a snarl.
“Careless of the boy to let him live,” Tanor said disapprovingly. “I taught him better than that.”
“Then you can tell him I told you so—but you have to rescue him first.”
“How many offworlders?” It sounded like the same voice from the shadows.
“I saw five.”
Tanor snorted. “He won’t need our help.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said there were five of them. Oh, and a sixth who looked like a Pardorian.”
Another muttered whisper filled the air around her, and this one sounded angry. She shivered.
“No Pardorian would ever side with an offworlder against one of our own,” the male in the shadows said, and there was a hum of agreement.
“Please,” she repeated. More shifting and murmurs came from the shadows, but no one stepped forward. Tears sprang from her eyes, but she dashed them away with an impatient hand. Why had she even tried? If she had stayed, maybe she would have been able to help. Lifting her chin, she started to turn back the way she’d come.
“Where are you going?” Tanor asked.
“To help Aidon, of course. I really thought you cared for him. I guess I was wrong.”
Tanor drew back as if she had slapped him. “Of course I care for him. I just think he’s quite capable of dealing with this himself.”
“Just like you thought he was capable of spending the night in a cravan’s nest by himself?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitating. “And he was.”
“But he thought it was because you didn’t care. You should have told him that you were proud of him.”
It was hard to tell in the shifting shadows, but she thought he looked uncomfortable.
“Perhaps you’re right.” He sighed. “I suspect that he would prefer that I keep you here and safe, but if you insist, I will accompany you.”
“We will accompany you.” Another male stepped forward, and she recognized him as the previous speaker. “Aidon is one of us.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You should still stay here,” Tanor insisted.
“I’m going with you,” she said, glaring at him.
He sighed again, but he parted the curtain of vegetation and followed her out into the rocky clearing. More Pardorians streamed out behind him until at least ten of them were gathered around.
Now that they were in direct moonlight, Trouble was clearly visible, and she heard more murmurs.
“You have a war beast?” one of the warriors asked, clearly shocked, and started to bend toward Trouble. Her pet snarled, revealing all those rows of teeth. The warrior immediately stepped back.
“He’s just a baby,” she said quickly. “He doesn’t mean any harm.”
Tanor laughed. “I see you know as little about war beasts as you do about my grandson.” When she glared at him again, he held up a hand. “I apologize. You have obviously been more successful in reaching either of them then I could ever be.”
The party began the journey up the riverbank. They appeared to be moving at no more than a fast walk, but she had to run to keep up. After the long run to get here and the confrontation with the villagers, her legs trembled, and she could feel exhaustion wearing her down. She began to drop behind, but Tanor immediately came back for her.
“I will carry you,” he announced, reaching for her. Trouble growled, and he stopped.
“I can make it,” she insisted.
“Don’t be a fool, girl. That boy will have my head if anything happens to you, and it’s easy to make mistakes when you’re tired.”
The horror of her encounters on the way to the village was still fresh in her mind. She nodded reluctantly, then bent down to scoop up Trouble.
“Can you carry both of us?”
He snorted a laugh as he scooped up both of them, carrying her as if she was a baby. Trouble growled again, but she patted him reassuringly, and he settled down in her arms.
If she thought they had been going quickly before, she now realized how much they must have slowed the pace for her. They practically flew down the river path. No one hesi
tated as they passed the dead lizard creature, its bones now shining in the moonlight, but Tanor looked down at her.
“Was that your handiwork?” he asked. He wasn’t even breathing heavily despite their speed.
She shuddered. “I shot him with one of my darts.”
“An adequate kill,” he admitted, then sighed. “I am too used to the habit of faint praise. The gurvel are tricky and difficult to kill despite their size. You did well, girl.”
A flash of warmth filled her at his words.
“Thank you, Tanor.”
“I find that I am glad that my grandson found you.”
“Even though I’m an offworlder?”
“I don’t care where you come from as long as you don’t leave him. You would destroy him as his mother destroyed his father. No male can exist without his mate.”
“I have no intention of ever leaving him,” she said firmly. “I’ve started eating the Pardorian fruit as well.”
His eyes gleamed with approval, but he didn’t say anything further. The rocking motion of the run and the night air breezing past her cheeks would have made her sleepy if it weren’t for her constant anxiety about Aidon. She replayed Tanor’s words in her mind and almost bolted upright as she realized what he had said.
“If Aidon bonded with me when he bit me on the ship, doesn’t that mean he would have died if he let me go?”
“Yes. That’s why I tried to feed you fruit that first day. I wanted you to be tied to him as well.”
“That idiot,” she muttered. “He was still planning on taking me somewhere ‘safe,’ even knowing what would happen.”
“Your happiness was more important to him than his own well-being. It’s why his father let his mother go.”
“Aidon went looking for her, you know. But she died trying to rescue a group of refugees.”
Tanor sighed. “She wasn’t a bad female, but she never accepted Pardor—she never belonged here.”
Silence fell for a few moments, then she peeped up at him. “What happened to your mate?”
“I didn’t form a mate bond. I cared for my female very much, but we weren’t truly bonded. I have always regretted that, but perhaps it was for the best. It meant that I was around to care for Aidon after she died from a wasting sickness.”
There was a sudden scuffle from up ahead, and Tanor stopped in his tracks. Hanna looked on in horror as three enormous tentacles reared up out of the river, trying to snatch the Pardorians off the path. The creature seized one of them, but before it could drag him away, another warrior cut through the tentacle. It was like an obscene dance, the tentacles rising and the warriors ducking and weaving around them almost too fast to see. Another tentacle severed, and then all was silent as the creature disappeared back into the dark waters. She felt sick when she realized that this was where she had heard the noise from the river earlier. Apparently she hadn’t been enough to tempt the river monster.
By the time they reached Aidon’s house a short time later, her exhaustion had vanished in a rush of jittering nerves.
“Can you show us the way, or do we need to track them?” Tanor asked softly.
“Put me down. I can show you.”
To her great relief, she was able to retrace her steps even though the jungle looked strange and unfamiliar in the darkness. They reached the clearing where she had last seen Aidon just in time to see Chotgor roar and advance on Aidon, his knife in his hand. Without conscious thought, a dart was in her hand and she was throwing. She saw it hit Chotgor’s neck and saw him crumple, but she ignored him, flying past to throw herself into Aidon’s welcoming arms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aidon pulled Hanna more firmly against him, still shocked that she had made the dangerous trip along the river in order to bring help—for him. Despite his pride at her bravery, terror iced his veins at the many things that could have happened to her.
“You should have listened to me and hidden at the house,” he said firmly. “And you should not have brought her back with you,” he added, addressing his grandfather.
The old man snorted. “I would have had to tie her down to stop her.”
“I had to know you were all right,” she insisted. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but she didn’t back down.
He sighed and hugged her close. “You will make me old before my time, saachi.”
“Nonsense,” his grandfather snapped. “She is an excellent mate.”
“You approve of Hanna?”
“Why would I not?”
“She is an offworlder.” Like my mother.
“That does not concern me. As long as she cares for you—and is willing to commit her life to you—that is all that matters to me.”
Aidon stared at him. He had always thought that Tanor disapproved of his mother because she was an offworlder. Had the old man recognized all along that her restless spirit would not remain on Pardor?
“She is a fine female,” Ralard agreed as he came to join them.
The other villagers were disposing of the bodies by the simple expedient of throwing them in the river. He heard a slithering sound as an usan vine crept up on shore, looking for more food, but a watchful male sent it back again.
“It is good to see you, Aidon,” Ralard continued. “We have missed you.”
He stared at his childhood companion but saw nothing on his face except sincerity. Had Hanna been correct that it had been his own sensitivity rather than any actual disapproval of his inability to shift that had created a barrier between them? Something deep inside of him loosened, and he smiled at Ralard.
“I have been finding my way back here.”
“I hope you choose to stay. Both of you.”
Hanna looked up at him, her eyes hopeful.
“Is that what you want, saachi?”
“More than anything. I love it here—in spite of all the dangers.” She looked over at the river as another splash sounded. “Although I think people are far more dangerous.”
“No doubt you are right. We can certainly stay if that is what you wish.” But for the first time, he knew that his own desire to remain was every bit as strong as hers.
Naiz had been renewing his acquaintance with the villagers and assisting them in disposing of the bodies, but he rejoined Aidon and the others now. “I am anxious to return to my female. If you still wish to accompany me, could we leave at first light when it is safe to travel the river?”
“Hanna, I promised to return to the city with Naiz to make sure that his female is safe.” He hesitated, then looked at his grandfather. “Will you stay with her and look after her?”
The old man was too well trained to show more than the briefest flash of emotion, but Aidon saw first shock, then pleasure cross his face.
“I will,” Tanor said gruffly.
Gilten, another friend from Aidon’s childhood, came to join them. “Why are you all standing here so solemnly? We have a victory to celebrate. The fire burns high, and Inchin is hunting a gakhal for the feast.”
“Not much of a celebration without arki.” Aidon’s grandfather sniffed, and Gilten laughed.
“You know that Inchin always carries an emergency supply.”
Aidon bit back a grin. The fiery liquor brewed from surat berries was a part of every village celebration. He hadn’t tasted it since he’d left, but he remembered how much the old man enjoyed it.
Hanna yawned and leaned more heavily against him. He scooped her up in his arms.
“Come, saachi. We will sit by the fire.”
Hanna curled into Aidon’s lap as he joined the rest of the villagers by the fire. The fear and exertion of the evening were beginning to take a toll on her, and she yawned sleepily, half listening as the males talked. Trouble sprawled next to them, snoring gently.
Most of the conversation revolved around their shared childhood. Someone did ask what Aidon did off world, but when he refused to answer, they didn’t push it. She was almost surprised by how much he seemed to enjoy the fr
iendly banter, his muscles at ease beneath her. Now that she knew he was safe, she could relax also, and she gradually drifted off to sleep.
Aidon woke her at some point to feed her small bites of roasted meat accompanied by a few sips of a sweet, fiery liquid. She coughed on the first swallow and shook her head at him.
“Are you trying to get me as drunk as you did the last time?”
His eyes gleamed down at her, and her cheeks flushed as she remembered that evening.
“It had its rewards,” he murmured, and her blush intensified. “But this is not the place. I just wanted you to be part of the celebration.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and snuggled in again.
The conversation continued as she drifted in and out of a light doze.
“And you chose to live in the city?” Aidon asked, waking her again.
“Hirogi’s work is there.” She opened one eye enough to see that the speaker was the stranger who had helped Aidon. “And indeed, I do not mind it. I miss the jungle, of course, but there is much to compensate. Do you not enjoy city life when you are off world?”
“Not particularly,” Aidon responded, sounding surprised. “I’ve never really thought about it. But being here—it feels right.”
“We are just as much part of the jungle as the spirin.”
“Not the example I would have chosen,” Aidon said dryly. “But I concede your point.”
“If it were not for the fact that I’m worried about my mate, I would enjoy this time.”
“We’ll leave at daybreak.”
“It is still a two-day journey,” the stranger said grimly.
“Two days?” Aiden swore. “I’m an idiot. We can take my ship—and we don’t have to wait for daylight for that. I simply have to get my mate home first.”
Enough of the conversation had penetrated that she opened her eyes. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead with…” She fumbled for the name.
“Naiz,” the stranger said. “You don’t object?”
Hanna and the Hitman: A SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 8) Page 17
