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“Do not what?” Rathbone demanded. Of course, no response was forthcoming. Neeka was too busy resting peacefully in his arms.
Anger burned inside him, fueled by coals of desire he hadn’t yet quashed. He strode on, unsure where to go and unable to concentrate on anything other than the female in his arms, who’d assured him there’d be no opposition.
Forget the bone for a minute. Something had changed between him and the oracle the moment she’d stuck her head through that hole in the wall and smiled at him.
No, the change had come before his imprisonment, when they’d traversed the streets of Nova and she’d climbed on him, broadcasting lust and vulnerability. A combination he intended to experience again. Soon.
Or not. He bit off a curse. Long-term loyalty mattered more than short-term pleasure.
Focus.They were trapped in an unfamiliar world more advanced than most. Despite Neeka assurance, he sensed aggression all around. He hadn’t yet recharged, couldn’t shift or flash, and he saw no evidence of a starway. Not that he knew what to look for. Any second, the oracle could awaken without her memory, complicating an already complicated situation.
Even with the grimlings and his newfound arsenal, Rathbone felt ill prepared for the task ahead. Getting home with a bone and a still breathing Neeka.
A disruption in the atmosphere sent a tingle across his nerve endings. He tensed, gazing left, right.
In a rush of motion, the forest came alive. Vines shot from every direction. Some stabbed pointed tips at him. Others endeavored to eat him in a series of gobbles, their snapping, thorn-filled mouths opening and closing. Flowers spit glowing spores, causing his next breath to scorch his lungs.
Dizziness overtook him.No opposition, carrot?
With the help of the mátia, Rathbone dodged each attack and dashed forward. Neeka remained cradled against his chest, her sleep undisturbed.
Up ahead, the land split in two, a crack widening as it spread across the dirt, heading straight for him. He jumped, clearing the fissure. Landing jarred him, but his gaze caught on a startling sight. A starway, no doubt. What Rathbone referred to as a threshold. A door between worlds or dimensions.
This particular threshold stood between two ivy-covered trees, an endless expanse of dark sky and glittering red stars filling it.
Now he knew what to track at least, so track he did. Rathbone diverged from the path, weaving through the forest. But as he bypassed starway after starway for being too pink, orange, yellow, blue, or green, his confidence flagged. What other color remained? He didn’t—there! That one. Black with pinpricks of white. Except, as he veered closer, the trees beside it stretched out their limbs to create a barricade.
No matter. He settled Neeka over his shoulder, purposely cut his palm with a claw, then thrust his bleeding hand into the backpack to grab a grimling.
Without slowing his steps, he tossed the beastie at the limbs. In seconds, the creature created a hole in the wooden block just big enough for Rathbone to dive through.
As he soared, he adjusted his hold on Neeka, tucking her safely against his chest once again. Razor-sharp bark grazed his sides, peeling through layers of skin, poking mátia. Searing pain electrified as frigid cold registered. He collided with solid ground, leaving a crimson trail as he and his bundle rolled over a field of ice.
Icy rain pelted him as he leaped to his feet and took stock. New world. Dark and stormy. Miles of ice. No roads that he could see. The only discernible landmark was a mountain in the distance.
Very well. He’d go there. Mountains provided caves. Caves sometimes supplied provisions—and traps. Not that a trap could stop him from claiming the shelter as his own.
Several grimlings and two daggers had fallen from the bag as he’d rolled. He gathered them, alert. No signs of life. No protests from Neeka, either. She never even stirred.
Worried for her, he started forward, walking, running, sprinting. Amid the rain, wind, and hoarfrost, his concern magnified. His body heat, though fierce, wasn’t enough to warm her. Her teeth chattered.
Relief deluged him when he reached the hoped-for cavern. It wasn’t hidden or high, but accessible from the ground. Wondering what fresh hell awaited him, he hustled into the waiting darkness.
The spacious cavity appeared deserted save for two blanket-covered corpses. They huddled next to a makeshift fire pit teeming with ash. A stack of logs and pair of backpacks waited off to the side.
Nova citizens? Other escapees? Either way, this was a trap. Had to be.
Rathbone gently laid Neeka near a rocky wall and looked her over. The rain had deposited a sheet of ice on her skin. Blue tinged her lips, and her teeth no longer chattered. He needed to get her warm fast.
Remaining on alert, he hauled a stack of logs to the pit. After cleaning his palms of any trace of blood, he struck two unawakened grimlings together, using them to start a fire. If someone or thing was going to attack, he and his companion might as well be warm.
As the wood burned, he inhaled deep, testing the smoke in case poison laced the bark. Clean. After tossing the frozen corpses outside and making sure they stayed dead, he brushed off the blanket, picked up Neeka, and carried her over, laying her upon the soft, dry fabric.
“I’m getting you out of these wet clothes for your own good, oracle. Harpy. Carrot.” He didn’t know what to call her in a situation like this. “I’d prefer you wake up and tell me you’ll do it on your own.”
No response. Very well. He stripped her out of the wet garments, save for her underwear.Do not look. Do not.
As he stripped himself, the mátia zoomed to her, and there was no stopping them. He traced his tongue over his teeth.Sexy female.The gemstones around her navel glinted in the firelight. And the scarlet lace...
