Thieves In Paradise (2 page)

Silently and without acknowledging her horrorstruck expression, he pulled a thin cord from his belt and attached it to the cuffs. With her tethered to him, she wouldn't get far if she foolishly decided to run.

"Oh, please. You're putting me on a leash? You barbarian!” She made a show of tugging at the cord. The kevlex fibers would never fray or snap, quite effectively limiting her range of movement.

She pouted. “This is ridiculous."

"My ship isn't far. I'll walk slowly so you can keep up.” Just to make it clear that he meant business, Kol pulled his own stunner from his belt as a reminder that he'd taken hers. He could have rendered her unconscious and carried her back to his ship, but why drag dead weight around when it could walk under its own power? He'd reserve the weapon's charge in case she caused trouble later on.

Ignoring her indignant huff, he started to move. She stumbled after him, managing three reluctant steps for each one of his.

The Antarean was a lot bigger in person than Charity had imagined. She knew his kind were taller, broader, and far more ruggedly built than average humans. Something in the atmosphere of the Antarean colonies had produced mutations in the second generation settlers there as far back as a hundred and fifty years ago, and now they were practically considered a different race.

He had to be well over two meters tall. His hands could span her waist and his hips were columns of muscle encased in tight-fitting flight pants of the same standard issue black as her own. His voice rumbled from somewhere deep in his broad chest, and when he scanned the area ahead of them, he moved his whole head and neck in a strangely predatory fashion.

Her instincts told her not to do anything to make him angry, but somewhere between her brain and her mouth, the infamous Charity Foster attitude kicked in and she found herself completely unable to keep quiet.

She'd talked her way out of trouble before, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try it this time, too. Regardless of the Antarean reputation for steadfast loyalty and unwavering attention to duty, every man had a price. She just had to find his.

After all, Gar Gremin was a crook. He was hoarding selenite when the poorer colonies were begging for it, and wasn't it up to someone to try to balance the scales of justice a little bit? If she could manage to appeal to the Antarean's better nature—assuming he had one—she might have a chance to free herself.

How she was going to manage that, though, before he dragged her back to his shuttle and blasted off for Valencia, she had no idea.

She rubbed her already sore wrists together with a weary sigh and slowed her pace so he'd be forced to shorten his enormous strides to keep from yanking her off her feet. “I can pay you, you know. If you let me go, we can split the take. I'll give you half of my share. That's a quarter million. Probably five times as much as Gremin is paying you, am I right?” She kept her voice light and hopeful and didn't even complain when she nearly turned an ankle after tripping over a sharp rock in her attempt to keep up.

Undeterred by his lack of response, she immediately switched to another tactic which had little to do with bargaining for her freedom and everything to do with fearing for her life. She screamed.

The shadowy form leapt out of the thick, low-hanging branches of a nearby tree. With its sinuous felinoid body arched and claws outstretched, the carnivore bellowed an attack cry that shook Charity to her bones. She hit the ground and rolled, gathering a coating of prickly foliage over her flight suit and her hair. When the Antarean dodged the huge animal and drew a fast bead on it with his stunner, the kevlex tether joining her to him stretched to its limit, nearly pulling her arms from their sockets.

The first shot from his weapon went wide, impacting harmlessly on the trunk of the tree from which the carnivore had sprung. Standing now on clawed feet the size of dinner plates and bearing fangs as thick and sharp as daggers, it let loose another throaty roar.

Charity inched backward along the ground, tugging on the kevlex cord. “Let me free! Unhook this—if he kills you, I won't be able to escape."

The bounty hunter didn't spare her a glance. He merely hunkered down into a fighting crouch, brandishing his weapon and matching the big felinoid's suspicious stare.

"Have some faith. I'm not dead yet.” His voice was low and utterly calm, and he held the stunner in an iron-steady grip.

"I'm no gambler, but I'd bet on the cat. He's twice your size.” The Antarean was the largest man Charity had ever seen, but on hind legs the carnivore would have dwarfed him. She only hoped the creature didn't opt to leap over her captor and go right for the more defenseless prey.

Emboldened by the bounty hunter's non-aggressive movements, the creature took a swipe with one massive forepaw. The Antarean fired and this shot connected dead center of the broad, black-furred chest, where surprisingly it seemed to have absolutely no effect.

"I guess there's no point in betting if I won't be around to collect, is there?” When the carnivore roared again, Charity pulled harder on the tether and scrabbled as far back from her captor as possible

"Quiet.” The Antarean's terse order made the creature's huge, pointed ears prick up. Those scimitar-shaped fangs flashed in the dappled light, and it lifted its huge head as if to taste the scent of fear on the wind.

The bounty hunter's free hand moved toward the blade which hung from his belt in a jeweled sheath.

How could he be considering hand-to-claw combat with the beast? “We need to run, not fight,” Charity whispered. She would have screamed it, but her throat had gone tight and dry. Staring down death twice in one day certainly wasn't good for one's health.

Just as the Antarean's blade cleared the sheath, the carnivore tilted its head. The creature made a questioning sound, and its baleful gaze tracked to the darker recesses of the forest.

Distracted by something it heard or smelled, the animal turned, padding silently on those enormous feet. Then, without a backward glance, it leaped away, leaving not so much as a rustle of branches in its wake.

Charity gulped the humid air for a moment before she found her voice. “How did you do that?"

The Antarean thrust his blade home, but kept his stunner gripped tightly in his hand. “I did nothing. Something more important drew its attention away from us.” He leveled his piercing light blue gaze on her and finally reached down to haul her to her feet. “That means either it sensed easier prey in the area or a larger predator."

"Larger than that?” Charity didn't want to consider how big a creature would have to be to frighten away an animal of that size. With shaking hands she brushed at the sharp burs that adhered to her clothing, managing only to dislodge a few. The rest seemed permanently stuck to the fabric of her flight jacket and pants.

"I suggest we move fast before we find out exactly what drew the beast's attention."

"We'll make better time if you untie me.” Charity kept her voice light and conversational. She even managed an airy grin at her captor.

Undaunted, he turned his back on her and continued his determined trek toward his shuttle. Charity stumbled after him, cursing under her breath, all pretense of camaraderie forgotten.

They'd walked for what seemed like an hour, though it only registered as ten minutes on Charity's chronometer, when the bounty hunter stopped short. She nearly collided with his broad back. “Don't tell me you're lost?” Her tone dripped sarcasm to cover her apprehension. After seeing the carnivore in action, she had no desire to spend a few days wandering the forests of Lebron. She preferred now to take her chances with the Antarean and see if she could strike a bargain for her release sometime before they reached Valencia.

"The storm we flew through is gathering. I can smell the change in the air,” he said after sniffing the wind much like the carnivore had.

"So what's a little rain?"

"If it was the storm that drew the beast away from us, it's likely going to be more than just a little rain. We need to—"

A blinding flash lit the forest then, leaching the color from everything and leaving Charity blinking at jagged spots that floated behind her eyelids. The thunder that followed shook the ground, and all around them the sounds of forest life fell silent. A cold wind swept through the trees and, like shopkeepers in the markets of Celrax folding up their canopies at day's end, every leaf in the forest curled itself into a tight roll. While they watched in astonishment, the entire blanket of foliage above them disappeared and they were left standing unprotected amid the naked boles.

A sheet of driving rain, cold and needle sharp, accompanied the next flash of lightning. Charity huddled into herself, stunned by the spectacle of the disappearing foliage. “I've never seen anything like this before."

The bounty hunter raised his voice to be heard over the deluge. “It's a survival mechanism. With the foliage sheathed, more water can reach the tree roots where it's stored for the dry season."

Charity wished for a scathing reply to his nature lesson, but the force of the water descending on her head left her breathless. Within seconds she was soaked to the bone and shivering, and still the Antarean walked on.

Kol didn't need his Antarean abilities to sense the misery emanating from the human female. With no foliage to divert even a portion of the downpour, they were instantly drenched. Soon the forest floor became slick and muddy, which slowed their pace considerably. On the upside, the storm had cleared the forest of predators. Wherever the carnivore went for shelter, it wasn't likely to be looking for a meal until well after the blinding rain let up.

He was beginning to wish he hadn't set his shuttle down on a slope when the female yelped in surprise or perhaps pain. Before he could turn around to investigate, she slid past him in a river of mud.

With only a split second to choose between using the kevlex cord to stop her descent or opening the clasp and letting her fall free, he chose the former. He braced himself, digging his booted heels into the slippery earth and held fast until she reached the end of the tether. Though the impact could easily snap one of her delicate wrists, he judged that would be preferable to her than drowning in mud.

She cried out when Kol yanked up hard on the cord, but she didn't seem injured. Hand over hand, he pulled her up the slope, wrapping the slick cord around his fists for traction.

Each time she tried to get her legs under her, a fresh torrent of water would knock her down. It might have been comical except that Kol feared the loose soil beneath his feet would give way and they'd both end up at the bottom of the slope.

"Stop struggling!” His command was met with a disdainful glare that morphed into indignant panic when he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her lithe form against him.

"Put me down! I can walk by myself!” She felt like an angry eel in his arms, but beneath the layer of mud that now covered her body, her skin was warm and supple.

"I'll carry you to my ship, since you can't seem to stay—"

The vision hit him between one syllable and the next, and though he'd been trained since childhood to expect his Antarean preminatory sense to show him anything at all, what he saw in that extended glimpse into the future shocked him beyond imagining.

He had the female beneath him. She was naked, her shapely legs spread wide to reveal the enticing pink folds of her delicate sex. His own cock lay rigid in his hand as if he were about to guide it into her waiting heat.

She was smooth, pale as alabaster, and seemed to be arched in anticipation of his conquest. Her lips were parted in a sigh that became a wild keen of pleasure when he thrust himself inside her.

"...upright.” The end of his sentence escaped with a startling whoosh of breath and he found himself glaring at her in disapproval. Was this how she planned to escape from him, by using her sexual allure?

Still pushing ineffectually against his chest, the female hadn't seemed to notice his sudden shock or, fortunately, the evidence of his arousal.

To cover both, he dropped her, and she landed in the mud with a splash. At least she managed to stay on her feet this time.

"Thank you,” she said with little sincerity. With what had to be deliberate intent, she sloughed mud from her face and the graceful column of her throat. Kol followed the movement of her hands, unable to ignore the ember of desire that his unwanted vision had sparked. Why would his Antarean senses show him something so inappropriate as his mating with the female and not have warned him about the carnivore attack or this infernal storm?

This was no time to dwell on his confusion, though. “We need to keep moving.” Eager to get his eyes and his mind off the female's slippery curves, Kol set off again. For once, his vision had to be wrong. Antareans did not mate outside their colonies. Even if he desired the full-blooded human—and of course he didn't!—he would never indulge and take the rare chance that such activity might initiate a mating bond.

Behind him, she seemed to be scrambling to keep up with his determined strides. While some part of him rebelled against the cruelty of making her keep pace with him under such adverse conditions, another part of his psyche wanted only to be rid of her, and the fastest way to do that was to get back to his shuttle and return to Valencia with all possible haste.

Any chance of a quick, uncomplicated end to his mission, however, died the moment the shuttle became visible through the spindly boles of the nearly naked trees.

Apparently, the lightning had hit one of the larger trunks, severing two enormous branches that now lay across the bow of the ship. That alone would have posed little problem since he could have shaken them free by lifting off. Beneath one of the huge limbs, however, and extending from the bottom of the forward wind screen to the top in jagged relief, was a splintered crack in the glass.

Once again Kol halted, and the female joined him at the base of the slope, looking up at his damaged ship.