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If there was any Dothvek he was accustomed to hearing constantly, whether at home or on the ship, it was his best friend. And now, there was silence.
“I know you can hear me, Zaandr.” Tegan beat her fists on his back. “You might not be able to hear my thoughts, but you can hear my screaming.”
He clenched his jaw. That was part of the problem. He shouldn’t be able to hear her thoughts or sense her emotions, but he could. He’d picked up on that fact that she’d lied to Pog when she’d told him everything would be fine. She didn’t believe that. She was as worried as he was. He could feel her fear and anxiety pulsing into him in waves, and it wasn’t only because she was angry that he was returning her to the ship on his back. She’d been nervous before that. It had been her fear that had convinced him he had to return her to the ship.
Zaandr couldn’t hunt for Rixx if he was being bombarded by the female’s emotions. Not only was it distracting, but he also didn’t know why it was happening. Tegan had made it very clear that the last thing she wanted was to get involved with him or any male. She clearly had strong feelings about fathers who left, and her answer to that was never to become a mother. Obviously, the best way to ensure that didn’t happen was to avoid males altogether, which seemed to be her plan.
Not that he would have had a chance with a female like her, he reminded himself. She might not have welcomed Rixx’s flirting but that was only because she rejected the idea of all males. If she’d been open to the idea of a mate, Zaandr was certain she would have been charmed by Rixx’s attention and never noticed him.
Focus, he ordered himself, as he ducked down a corridor he was sure was the way they’d come.
It didn’t matter if she was interested in males or mates or any of it. All that mattered was finding Rixx before something terrible happened to him.
“Zaandr!” Tegan yelled, her voice finally clear as they continued down the narrow corridor buffeted by high buildings, and there were no crowds to muffle her screams. “You have to let me down. You’re going the wrong way.”
He readjusted his hold on her legs, snorting derisively at her weak attempt to get him to release her. Then he looked at the passageway that was narrower and dimmer than any he remembered. The inset doorways looked dingy, and it smelled of fetid water. Was this the way they’d come?
His heart sank. He’d been so distracted by his thoughts about her and her thoughts that he hadn’t paid enough attention to where he was going. He scowled and spun round. How far off track had he gotten? When had the corridor bent? He didn’t remember turning, but now he couldn’t see the crowds that had surrounded them only moments earlier. At least, it felt like moments.
Panic welled inside him. Rixx was gone, and now he and the female he’d sworn to protect were lost in the most dangerous city he’d ever entered.
“It’s okay.” Tegan’s voice was calm and soothing. “We’ll figure this out. Let me down, and let me help.”
His shoulders slumped. He didn’t know if she sensed his frustration, but she was right. He couldn’t do this alone. Before he could swing her down to the ground, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Although he’d sensed danger since emerging from the ship and had tried not to focus on the dark thoughts and malicious intent of the crowds, this was different. This was near.
“You heard the lady,” a voice said from the shadows. “Let her down.”
Chapter
Eight
Her blood chilled when she heard the voice. It wasn’t the hard, craggy voice of a man or really of anyone that belonged in the Den of Thieves. It was the sultry voice of a siren, beckoning them to do her bidding. But Tegan instinctively knew that obeying her would be the worst thing they could do.
Still, Zaandr lowered her to the dusty paving stones without a word. She shifted her crossbody bag so that it was behind her, giving a reassuring pat to Pog and feeling better when she could feel the lump she knew was him. At least she hadn’t lost Bexli’s pet.
“What are you doing?” Tegan whispered to him. She couldn’t see whoever had spoken to them, but she could feel the female watching, so she hung close to him.
“You asked to be put down.”
Now you start listening to me? Tegan wanted to snap, but it didn’t seem like a good time to have an argument.
“I can’t fight effectively with you over my shoulder,” he added in such a low voice she almost thought she imagined it.
Her heart raced. So, he thought he would need to fight. That wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but at least she knew that he wasn’t being fooled by the woman’s sultry voice. At least he wasn’t being lured by the female. For some reason, that thought sent a flush of possessive heat through her.
Zaandr cut a glance to her, his lips quirking to one side. Was he amused? Had he heard her? Tegan shook her head. Impossible. She wasn’t Dothvek or his mate, and according to him those were the only minds he could read.
He cleared his throat and turned away, peering into the shadows of the corridor. “What do you want?”
“Why do you think I want anything?” she purred.
“I do not think it. I know it,” the Dothvek said. “I can sense it.”
Tegan joined him in searching the dark corners and recessed doorways for the owner of the voice. Where was she?
There was a high, tinkling laugh that was almost like childlike. “Maybe I do want something, but what if I told you it wasn’t what you thought?”
“How do you know what we think?” Tegan asked, wishing her voice wasn’t trembling.
