Читать книгу A Warrior's Desire - Pamela Palmer - Страница 10

Charlie tensed, his mind scrambling as he listened to the low, unintelligible voices drawing nearer. Esri voices. From the sound of them, they were just below the rise, less than twenty yards away. Three Esri, he’d guess. Maybe four. By the time he knew for sure, they’d be able to see him. And he couldn’t kill them, unfortunately. He might be able to outrun them, but a human-looking Royal Guard running from the gate was going to look damned suspicious. No, the only thing to do was hide and pray none of them possessed a gift that would sense him. He scanned the area and spied a nearby thicket of low, bloodred bushes that might do the trick. It would have to. Using skills honed as a SEAL, he ran across the hard-packed dirt to the bushes without making a sound. As he ducked low within the center of the soft, fuzzy branches, a flurry of winged insects took to the air, like a spray of raindrops flying skyward.

Wishing for some red camouflage paint, Charlie took a deep breath and concentrated on quieting his thudding heart. Calm. Steady. He looked back the way he’d come and nearly had a heart attack. A narrow path of that same thick rust-and-gold grass led straight to him. Grass that hadn’t been there a moment ago, as if it had followed him. It was going to lead them right to him!

The grass disappeared.

Charlie blinked. Shit. Nothing remained of the grass except the tuft beneath his feet. He reached down to feel the stuff and had gotten nothing more than the fleeting impression that it felt like the grass at home when the grass disappeared and he once more found himself on a bed of tiny pink flowers.

Charlie’s skin raced with goose bumps. Kade had warned him that the two worlds didn’t follow the same laws of nature. He’d laugh at the understatement if he weren’t quite so shaken.

The nearing voices pulled his attention away from the insta-garden beneath his feet and again he prayed none of the Esri possessed the ability to sense his energy. While every Esri had certain baseline abilities, each had unique gifts as well. Hell, most of their human descendants … the Sitheen … did too, with the unfortunate exception of his own line. Neither he nor Harrison had any special talents except for the inability to be enchanted which, all things considered, was really all that mattered.

Still, it would have been nice to have had some magic at his disposal. Larsen foresaw death. Jack could speak with his Sitheen ancestors. Myrtle was a healer of prodigious skill. The Esri, Baleris, had been able to smell the power stones. And Zander, the Esri Kade had killed, had been able to sense power in others.

If any of the approaching Esri possessed that ability, he was in trouble. Because if they could smell power, even the low-level power of a human’s life force, they’d know he was here.

Pale heads broke the level of the rise. Charlie watched, barely breathing, as three male Esri wearing the same silver tunics and black cloaks he himself wore came fully into view. One of the three possessed the startling whiteness of both hair and skin that he’d come to associate with true Esri, but the other two just looked deathly pale. All three were fairly tall with lanky, rangy builds. Their hair varied in shade from stark white to white-blond.

Though the air temperature was comfortable, a trickle of sweat rolled down Charlie’s neck as the trio neared, speaking Esrian gibberish. If they caught him, he was going to have to decide whether to run or grunt and thump his chest and hope they backed off, though why they’d be afraid of someone who’d been hiding in the bushes, he couldn’t fathom.

The Esri neared, their voices growing louder. Clearer. With a jolt, Charlie realized he was starting to understand snatches of what they were saying. “… gate … nearby …” “… must have closed …” “… King Rith … displeased.”

Goose bumps rippled over his skin. He was beginning to understand Esrian. Had he inherited a gift from his Esri ancestor after all? Or was this newfound ability just part of the magic of this world? Kade had warned him to expect anything. He’d been expecting the worst, but speaking the language was a huge plus.

“We are not even certain the gate is here,” said the shortest and whitest of the three Esri.

“I felt it.” The speaker’s face was rounder, his hair thick with straw-blond waves. “When it opens again, I will know.”

The first man made a noise of dismay. “That won’t happen for another cycle.”

“So we wait.”

Charlie gave a mental groan. Don’t wait here. If they settled in, he was sunk.

But the men never stopped, never glanced his way, just continued to walk toward the hills. Finally, when they were but a speck on the horizon, Charlie crept out of the bushes and headed the other way.

He was being followed.

Charlie picked up his pace as he crossed the rocky, hilly blue terrain, the rust-and-gold grass appearing beneath his feet with every step and disappearing a few steps behind him. The grass had entertained him for a while after he escaped the Esri at the gate.

He’d been so distracted by the grass, he hadn’t noticed when he’d first picked up the tail.

The trees had grown more numerous the farther he traveled from the gate, thin patches of woods cropping up here and there, the trees resembling those in his world only in their basic shape. They had trunks and branches and leaves. But the trunks were blue or green or some combination, some shimmery as satin, others spiked with thorns. And the leaves looked like an autumn forest with the color turned up two hundred percent. Reds, golds, oranges as bright as crayons from a coloring box.

Unfortunately, scattered everywhere were bushes and rocks as big as boulders. Whoever was following him had plenty of places to hide.

Charlie followed the stream Kade had told him would lead him through the mountains. It wasn’t the most direct route, but would provide him with water the entire journey. A necessity, especially since large bodies of water were rare in Esria.

In the distance rose the twin red peaks he knew he’d have to cross. The air was cool and comfortable with a light breeze that brushed his heated skin—skin heated from exertion and the tension of feeling he had a bull’s-eye painted on his back. He didn’t dare confront his stalker unless he had no choice.

Nearly two hours had passed since he’d tumbled through the gate, more than an hour since he’d caught a glimpse of movement and felt the familiar sensation of being watched. But he’d yet to see the man who followed. Or hear him.

Damn, but he hated being without his team. In any other op, one of his men would slip away and double back to spy on the spy. But he was stuck. As soon as his pursuer knew he’d been made, he might no longer hang back. Which meant a confrontation Charlie couldn’t afford. But neither could he go on like this indefinitely. Sooner or later he’d need sleep. Better to confront him and try to scare the hell out of him while he could. If he could.

But first, he wanted to see his tail and make certain there was only one.

It took three tries, slipping behind bushes or trees before he finally caught a glimpse of the one following him as he darted from one boulder to another high on the hill above him. A Marceil, if the small size and gray gown were anything to go by. But this Marceil had hair. Very short, dark hair.

Tarrys.

Relief hit him first and hard, relief that he didn’t have an Esri on his tail. Anger followed fast on its heels.

Damn her. He’d told her in no uncertain terms she wasn’t coming with him. Was this her doing or Harrison’s? It didn’t matter now. But, yeah, it did. If this was her doing and she hadn’t told anyone she was planning to stay in Esria, the others would assume they’d been captured. Harrison would jump through the gate at the next full moon to fulfill the mission he would assume Charlie had already failed.

Dammit.

His jaw clenched, his eyes burrowing beneath his brows as he fought to hide the telltale signs of emotion. The first thing he intended to do was lure her to him so he could wring her delicate little neck. The second was send her away, somewhere safe to spend the next month until the gate opened again. If he’d wanted her company, he’d have asked for it.

Fisting his hands on his knees, he straightened and resumed walking as if nothing was wrong. For a moment, he considered trying to outdistance himself from her, but he didn’t know what kind of stamina she had. Besides, allowing her to follow him was too dangerous. If he picked up a second tail … a true threat … he might not realize it until it was too late.

Damn her. If she thought she could thwart him and get away with it, she was dead wrong.

Tarrys ducked behind a crystalberry bush, the sound of its fruit jangling like broken glass in the dull breeze. Peering around it, she watched Charlie, his long strides carrying him quickly toward the foothills of the red mountains. She ran, dodging behind a boulder, then another bush, determined to stay close enough to watch him. Determined that he not see her in return.

Sweat rolled between her breasts and dampened her scalp as she struggled to stay hidden and keep him in sight. They’d only come through the gate a few hours ago and already she was tiring of this. Eventually, Charlie would rest. Then and only then would she catch her breath.

She’d planned to run from Charlie when they first came through the gate, at least until the gate closed and he could no longer send her back. But the shift between the worlds had knocked him unconscious, giving her the perfect opportunity to hide.

Then the Esri arrived and she’d been terrified the mission would be over before it began. She’d been prepared to draw them off, giving Charlie a chance to get away. But Charlie had moved fast and the Esri had passed, unaware.

Now the only things chasing her were memories, and the fear that an Esri would catch her before she saw Charlie safely across Esria.

She scanned the surrounding hills, looking for a sign of others. Few traveled these lands. The chances of crossing paths with one was unlikely, but not nearly unlikely enough. The thought of it stirred the fear that had ridden over her like a haze since her return.

Sweet Esria, she didn’t want to be back here. Walking through that gate had been, without doubt, the hardest thing she’d ever done. If not for Charlie’s hand clasped hard around hers, giving her strength, reminding her of her purpose, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to force her feet into that fountain. Every step since, she’d felt fate’s hot breath on the back of her neck, corralling her toward that awful and inevitable moment of capture and enslavement.

Don’t think about the past. Don’t think about the future. Charlie. Only Charlie. And getting him safely over the mountains. That was all that mattered. All she could allow herself to think about, or she’d go slowly mad.

Yet she couldn’t stop the wish that she’d never gone into the human realm in the first place. That she’d never known freedom or kindness. Or friendship. How much easier her future years would be had she never known what it was like to have someone speak to her as an equal. To feel the touch of a friendly hand. To laugh and to do as she wanted knowing her body was hers to command. To know that no one would draw her into a frenzy of false passion for the purpose of raping her.

That the only desire that stirred inside her was drawn by a man who didn’t mean to attract her as he did. And Charlie would never, she was certain, force himself upon her.

And while she’d prefer to not be attracted to him, or any man, the truth was she liked him. A lot. Far more than she wanted to. He was a good man. A man who’d shown her more simple kindness than any man had since she was a child.

For Charlie and Aunt Myrtle and all the humans she’d begun to care for, she would do what she could to make sure Charlie succeeded. She would do what she must.

She peered around the edge of the rock, watching, staking out her next hiding spot. But as her gaze swung back to Charlie, she saw him stumble, then fall to his knees, swaying as if he’d been arrow shot. Her jaw dropped, shock vibrating through her body as she watched the strong warrior collapse slowly onto his back as if in the throes of human death.

No.

Heart thundering in her chest, Tarrys darted out from behind the rock and ran down the rocky hillside, the grass rising to prick her feet as fear congealed into a hard mass deep in her throat.

“Charlie.” His name was little more than a breath as she reached him and fell to her knees beside him. “Charlie, wake up.” But her hands had barely brushed his tunic when his own snapped up to capture her wrists.

Tarrys strangled a scream as the man she’d thought unconscious sat up then leaped to his feet, dragging her with him, his eyes blazing.

“What are you doing here?”

He wasn’t injured at all. It was a ruse to catch her. Her knees nearly buckled with relief. “You knew I was following you.”

“Of course I knew you were following me. I’ve known for miles.”

The day hadn’t even broken and already her plan was ruined.

Anger washed off him in waves, yet she didn’t fear him. Her heart pounded only from his startling her. And from the storming of her senses by his nearness. Sweet Esria, she was falling under his enchantment all over again.

He gave her arms a shake. “Answer me. Why did you come?”

“To protect you.”

Charlie gave a short bark of laughter, but there was no humor in the sound, nor in the hard twist of his mouth. He held her so close she could smell his uniquely masculine scent, as deep, rich and endlessly fascinating as his world. His grip on her wrists was no more than snug, yet her skin burned where he touched her. Burned not with pain but with a heat that sank beneath her flesh, into the heart of her blood. Inciting a desire she wanted to feel for no man.

Her body’s reaction frustrated her. Charlie’s belief in his own invulnerability … and her uselessness … annoyed her. “There are things about my world you don’t know,” she snapped.

“I’m not denying that, but I don’t need a freakin’ babysitter.” He shook her again, the tension in his hands tightly … barely … controlled. “And you left the others thinking … what? That I was dead? Captured?”

“No!” Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Harrison knew I was staying with you.” As Charlie’s expression darkened even more, she added quickly, “He didn’t ask me to come. This was my decision. But I told him before we left.”

“I’m sure you made him obscenely happy with that news,” he said disgustedly.

“He thought it was a good idea.”

“I’ll bet he did. He’s not the one that has to …” He released her suddenly. “You can’t come with me.”

Tarrys said nothing, unable to agree yet unwilling to lie. If he chased her away, she’d only go back to following him, though how she’d keep him from seeing her this time, she couldn’t fathom. She’d been so careful!

“Go home, Tarrys. Or somewhere you’ll be safe. Or, better yet, find someplace around here to hole up for a few weeks until that gate opens again. Keep out of sight. Even if Esri go through the gate at the next full moon, Harrison and the others will be there. They’ll protect you.”

As she remained silent, his stiffness softened ever so slightly. “Look, eaglet, I appreciate your trying to help, though … Jesus … I can’t believe you put yourself in danger to come after me. But you’ll slow me down. This mission is time-critical and I’ve got to move fast.”

The gentling of his attitude softened something deep inside her. As much as she longed to stop her body’s reaction to this man, she would never be able to harden her heart toward him.

“I know,” she said simply.

His gaze sharpened on her, his eyes probing hers, as if he sought a way into her innermost thoughts. When they narrowed, honed to a piercing point, she thought maybe he had.

Charlie scowled. “If I try to send you away, you’ll just follow me again, won’t you?”

Tarrys pursed her lips. If he were anyone else, she’d consider lying to him. But she was beginning to think there was no hiding from Charlie Rand. Whether in actions or words.

She met his gaze. “Your mission is to free Princess Ilaria. Mine is to make sure you succeed. I won’t give up mine any more than you will yours.”

Charlie scowled. “Harrison did put you up to this.”

“No. No one did. This was my plan. My choice.”

“It’s not your mission if you make it up on your own.”

She cocked her head. “Who directed you to free Princess Ilaria?” She couldn’t believe her temerity in questioning him like this. A few months ago, she never would have dared question any man, anyone, but the humans had encouraged her to speak freely. She’d embraced that freedom more slowly but no less appreciatively than the others.

And this was Charlie. For a reason she couldn’t fully understand, she knew he’d never hurt her, no matter what she said or did.

“My going after Princess Ilaria is different. It needs to be done.” His eyes snapped with determination as his gaze held hers.

Tarrys lifted her chin. “And you need to reach her safely. Doing all I can to make that happen is what I have to do.” She suddenly couldn’t bear having him so unhappy with her. Looking into his eyes, she implored him to understand, and reached for him, only to let her hand drop to her side. “I’ve never been free to choose my path before, Charlie. And I won’t remain so forever. While I can, I choose to help the humans win. And that means making sure you succeed.”

He watched her for breathless moments, his gaze delving deep inside her, stirring her pulse and her own determination.

Finally, he looked up at the sky that was beginning to lighten to a soft gold. Twining his fingers behind his head, he arched back, squeezing his eyes closed as if he were in pain.

With a groan, he straightened and looked at her, his expression wry but not unkind. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? If you’re coming, you’re going to have to keep up. I can’t slow down for you. There’s too much at stake.”

“I understand.”

Something gleamed in his eyes she couldn’t quite name. A challenge, perhaps? He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. But she didn’t expect him to. Didn’t want him to. She’d come to help him, not slow him down. But she had to wonder how much more difficult this journey was going to be on her now that she’d consigned herself to his side night and day.

Charlie turned and started off again, his strides longer, if possible, than before.

With a sigh, Tarrys held tight to her bow with one hand, lifting the hem of her gown with her other, and hurried after him.

Though she trusted him never to hurt her physically, she feared he’d end up hurting her all the same, more than any Esri ever could.

The woman was tireless.

All day Charlie had kept up this pace, driving them both hard and fast for more than twelve hours, resting for no more than minutes at a time. He’d been certain she wouldn’t last. Certain that she’d suddenly remember someplace else she could go to wait for the gate to open again. But he was damn near exhausted and Tarrys still jogged at his side.

They’d yet to see another person, thankfully, but he’d gotten an eyeful of the local wildlife. They’d watched a herd of white deer with large red polka dots leap over the stream as lightly as Santa’s reindeer taking off. The flying snakes with their high-pitched screams were everywhere, wrapping themselves around high tree branches when they lighted. But the ones he’d found the most interesting, if oddly unsettling, were the packs of neon-green chipmunks that scurried across the ground like large shag rugs on the move.

Charlie hazarded a glance behind him where Tarrys followed close. Sweat glistened on her forehead, but her expression showed no sign of distress.

The little slave was tougher than she looked.

At first, her stubbornness had annoyed him. Hell, everything about this situation annoyed him. But he couldn’t help admiring the courage it had taken to give up the cushy life she had now to try to make a difference. But wanting to help wasn’t the same thing as helping. He couldn’t afford to compromise his mission just to make her feel good about herself. He wasn’t giving an inch. Either she kept up, or she found somewhere to hide until the gates opened again.

Tarrys wasn’t his problem.

He couldn’t afford to let her be, though he had to keep stirring his anger to keep the need to protect her at bay.

“Tarrys, wake up. It’s time to get going.”

Tarrys groaned silently, her exhausted body crying at the thought of rising, of moving at all, let alone returning to that bone-jarring run she’d had to maintain to keep up with Charlie’s much longer strides. She felt like she’d just closed her eyes. And probably had.

The rogue thought flitted through her mind that she could tell him to go on without her. To let her sleep. But helping the humans was the only useful thing, the only real thing, she’d ever done. Nothing would stop her. Nothing short of enslavement.

The slightly caustic smell of the pink flower beds teased her nostrils, the air filled with the clicking sounds of the night insects. Her eyes opened, heavy and coarse with grit. The sky was starting to lighten again, but they’d traveled most of the night. They couldn’t have rested for any time at all.

Charlie stood over her, looking tired but utterly determined. He didn’t have to say the words for her to hear them ringing in her head. You have to keep up.

She forced herself to her feet and slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder. When he turned and strode off in that ground-eating gait of his, she once more ran, though her body felt like it was going to come apart and start dropping, piece by piece onto the ground. Marceils healed injuries quickly, but she needed rest and sleep to replenish her stores of energy. And she’d had little of either in more than a day.

None of that mattered. Nothing but staying with Charlie Rand, though she wondered what use she’d be to him if all she could do now was to keep one foot moving in front of the other.

“We’re on a collision course with a chipmunk rug,” Charlie said a short while later. “Should we step aside and let them pass?”

“No.” She caught a glimpse of green, but could see little beyond Charlie’s broad back. “They’ll go around us.”

Minutes later, several hundred small green petermoles covered the ground at their feet. Charlie stopped so quickly, Tarrys nearly ran into him.

“You can keep walking,” she told him, though the respite was welcome. “You can’t step on them.”

“That’s not why I stopped. I swear I just saw a big black cat with three white horns. But it disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared.”

Tarrys froze. Her blood went cold.

“A black trimor. The most deadly creature in Esria.”