Born of Shadows (22 page)

Come to think of it, he had yet to thank her for
that
.

Yeah… and that made her even angrier at him.

“You are so insufferable.”

“At least I wasn’t spawned by the she-bitch.”

She clenched her fist to keep from punching him in their tight quarters. Oh, how she wished she could get away from him or give him the beating he deserved. But that might get them taken and knocking that smug look off his face wasn’t worth her life or her freedom—though it was hard to keep that in mind while he ate his crappy food in a way that really annoyed her.
I hope you choke on it, you arrogant prick.
Why had she thought for even a nanosecogri he was decent or handsome or anything other than a repugnant oaf?

Unable to stand it, she lay down and turned her back to him so that she wouldn’t have to look at him for even a trifle of a moment longer.

Caillen was strangely amused by her angry response to his insulting her mother. Surely she had to know the woman was a bitch. How could she not want to choke her herself?

She’s her mother
. No matter what, people tended to be forgiving of those who birthed them. He probably would have been that way too had he ever had one.

And as he chewed, he tried his best to remember his adoptive mother’s face. But all he could remember was Shahara looking so tired as she took care of him, Kasen, Tess and their mother. Of his sister holding him in her arms and weeping the night her mother died. He’d been too young to really understand it. Their dad had gone out on a drinking spree that had lasted for days. Meanwhile Shahara, just a child herself, had been left to make all the arrangements for burying her mother.

If he lived to be a thousand years old, he’d never forget the sight of her young face and the sad bravery in her eyes as she picked out the clothes their mother would be buried in.
“I wish we had something nice for her. She deserves something pretty. Just once.”

Life had been so brutal to all of them. But for Shahara, it’d been far more cruel.

Because I failed to protect her.
The pain of that one night when he’d let her go to the market alone still haunted him. Yeah, he’d only been a kid and had worked all day at the hangar repairing heavy equipment—all he’d wanted was to sit for a single minute without someone yelling at him that he was stupid and slow.

Had he just found the strength to walk down the street with her…

I’m such an asshole.
And he would never forgive himself for what had been done to the one person in his life he’d always been able to depend on. The only person who’d ever told him that he was worth something.

He’d failed her so badly.

His gaze went to Desideria’s stiff back. Another woman whose safety was dependent on him. The Andarions wouldn’t be a bit kinder to her than Shahara’s attacker had been. Desideria had no idea just how brutal life could be. She thought she knew, but she’d never seen someone strong broken by brutality. That look of haunted misery and shame that never went away. The fear that lingered forever afterward. Shahara had never fully recovered from her attack. At least not until Syn. He didn’t know what his brother-in-law had done, but somehow Syn had finally taken away the ghost in his sister’s eyes.

It was why he’d die for the man even though he still didn’t like the idea of Syn being married to his sister. Mostly because he lived in fear of Syn hurting her either accidentally or intentionally. He never again wanted to see Shahara look the way she had those first two years after her rape. Defeated and afraid of everyone and everything, she’d leaned on him so heavily at a time when he’d been nothing more than a gangly kid who needed someone to take care of him. It’d been at a time when Kase had been her sickest and Tess, rather than help, had drawn tight into herself and acted as if she’d been the one who’d been brutalized.

No, Caillen, I can’t do anything on my own. Someone might grab me. Help me, Cai! I don’t want to get hurt.

Tess had always been an attention whore and she’d refused to do anything for herself. Those years had been so fucking hard on him. The three of them had relied on him so much, he still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to hold it together for them.

Yet here he was…

Still screwing up.

And before he realized what he was doing, he reached out to touch a lock of Desideria’s hair that was spilled on the boards between them. The dark silken strands teased at his flesh. It was ever his curse to be attracted to women. He loved the way they smelled and the sensation of being held by someone. His mother had been too sick to hold him when he was young and Shahara had ceased to touch him after her attack. The worst part of that had been the way she’d looked at him for the next few years—as if she was afraid he’d attack her too. That had killed him most of all.

As for Tess and Kase, they’d never been affectionate that way. So he’d been forced to find affection with strangers who really couldn’t care less about him. People were cruel by nature and he’d seen the ugliest side of them more times than he’d wanted to.

He had no doubt whatsoever that Desideria would hand him over to save her own ass. All lives had a price tag and his was pretty low most days.

Still there was a part of him that he didn’t want to acknowledge that wanted what Shahara and Syn shared. That one person who would stand at his back and protect it no matter what. It was a part of him he hated and yet it was still there, needing. Aching. Wanting.

Why are you whining? You’re scarred. So what? Everyone’s a veteran of a fucked-up universe.

He was no different from anyone else. And as he lay there, twirling her hair around his finger while she held herself rigid, he wondered what scars she carried. Who had screwed her over and hurt her?

After all, her mother was a grand bitch who appeared to be lacking any kind of human decency. The fact that Desideria was serving in her Guard where others looked down their noses at her said that her mother treated her like crap. What kind of parent would needlessly put their child in harm’s way like that?

Honestly, her loyalty to the viper was admirable. And before he realized what he was doing a single word slipped out of his lips. “Sorry.” Wow, there was something he never did. To him an apology meant weakness, and he was anything but weak.

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but somehow she managed to stiffen even more. “No, you’re not. You meant every word.”

“Yeah, but I’m sorry I offended you.”

“Why?” Her tone was brittle.

He answered her question with the simple truth. “Have no idea.”

“I’m still not speaking to you.”

He smiled at the ridiculousness of that comment. Whatever. He could probably charm her into forgiving him, but he wasn’t really in the mood. He ached too much to try.

This day had sucked in so many ways he couldn’t even begin to catalog all of them. Right now he was too tired to care about anything other than catching some sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, he stretched out on the cold floor and tried not to think about her. Unfortunately, the sweet scent of her skin hung in his nostrils and made him so hard he couldn’t concentrate on anything except how close she lay beside him and how easy it would be to slide his hand down her warm cleavage and touch skin he knew would be incredibly soft and tasty. If she rode him with even half the passion she put into everything else, she’d be one incredible lover.

I’m in hell.

Not really true. He’d been in real hell and this wasn’t it. But this was close.

Think about tomorrow
. They had a lot to do to get off this rock and back to the
Arimanda
. At least he knew Darling would take care of his father even if he had to out his Sentella identity to do it. So long as his friend was on board, no one would be able to get near Evzen.

And as he ran over all the technical difficulties of what they’d have to do in the morning, he fell asleep.

Desideria came awake to a light gentle snore in her ear and a warm, heavy weight completely surrounding her. It was like being wrapped in a hard, heavy blanket. At first she had no idea what it was until the scent of Caillen hit her forcefully and she realized her pillow was his left biceps. For the merest instant, she allowed herself to enjoy the novelty of waking up in someone’s arms. He smelled so good and the sensation of his body surrounding hers…

Until she felt something strange pressing against her hip. Was that…?

Oh my gods…

Horrified by the intimacy of what it was, she jumped away from him with a mortified squeak. He woke up ready to fight. Out of nowhere a knife appeared in his hand as he looked about for an enemy.

His gaze focused on her before he gave her a fierce scowl.

A shiver went down her spine at his new, sinister appearance. True to his words, his hair fell just past his shoulders. Jet black, it made his Andarion eyes all the eerier. He looked nothing like the rogue she’d come to know…

Until he grinned.

Yeah, she’d know that cocky twist of the lips anywhere. “You are a total freak of nature. You know that?”

His laugh was as dark as his aura. “Yes, but you’re going to be grateful I look like this when we runnto the natives.”

She wasn’t so sure about that.

Yawning, he stretched, then scratched at the whiskers on his chin in that familiar gesture she was coming to know a little too well.

She jerked her chin toward his hand. “You always come awake with a knife?”

“No. Usually it’s my blaster and normally I’m shooting. Be glad I’m still tired.”

She scoffed at his bravado. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth.” He slid the knife back into a sheath that was hidden in his sleeve.

If he had any memory of cuddling her while they slept, he showed no sign of it as he stretched his body and went through a series of graceful movements that showed her just how flexible he was for a man.

Once he was done, he pulled his backpack up. “You hungry?”

“Not for another round of ick. Sorry.”

“I understand.” He took a small band from the pack and pulled his hair back from his face to secure it into a becoming ponytail. “Now that I look semi passable, let’s get off this rock and find something decent to eat.”

Her stomach grumbled a reminder that she hadn’t really eaten the day before. “Don’t they have edible food here?”

“Probably, but the first rule of survival. Don’t stop to eat or get laid. I’ve known more people to get killed because they let their stomach or hormones dictate evac. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be a cautionary tale for anybody.”

He had a point.

Caillen handed her the cloak. “Remember to stay covered no matter what.”

Desideria pulled her hair back and coiled it into a bun before she raised the cowl. “How’s this?”

“Perfect.” He slung his pack over his shoulder, then led her down to the ground level.

They crept out of the shed and back toward the woods where they had cover from any stray glance. Moving quickly and gracefully, Caillen skimmed the yards, heading toward a more densely populated area.

Desideria was surprised at the difference between this town and her native Qilla. The houses here were narrow and long, their roof lines cut at sharp angles. Qillaqs used mostly untinted glass and windows with a lot of circular designs. The Andarion homes had small windows that were kept covered up.

“Do they have an aversion to daylight?” she asked, wondering about the custom.

“Their eyes are more sensitive to it than ours.”

Even their transports were radically different. Her people traveled in grou but the Andarion vehicles seemed designed for speed and few occupants. Yet what struck her most was the lack of toys and children on the street.

“Where are all the kids?”

Caillen stepped over a fallen limb. “Probably in training.”

“You mean school?”

“No, training. School is attended at night and usually online. They spend the daylight hours in physical and martial training. I cannot emphasize the point that they make your people look like wimps enough. While you’re a warrior culture, you’re female dominated. Andarions are male dominated and vicious to an unfathomable level.”

“They subjugate their women?”

“No. The only thing more dangerous than an Andarion male is an Andarion female. Their women, as a rule, aren’t very feminine in anything they do. There are exceptions to this, but very rare ones. All of them are tough sons of bitches.”

She didn’t know what he meant until they left their cover and started walking down the street, toward an intersection.

Caillen cleared his throat before he spoke. “Don’t meet anyone’s gaze. Keep your head down at all times.”

He, however, didn’t follow that advice. In fact, he stared down every person they passed as if daring them to speak. It was like every passerby was sizing him up for an opponent and he was begging them to try something.

At the biggest intersection they found, Caillen paused next to a red-marked pole and hailed an autotran for them. He allowed her to enter the small egg-shaped vehicle first, then he got in and closed the door. She started to lower her cowl, but the fierce look he gave her made her pause. He cut a sharp glare to the corner. She followed his line of sight to see a camera there.

So she pretended she was only adjusting it while he swiped his card and entered their destination on the electronic keypad. When he didn’t explain the language or his actions, she took that to mean that they also had a mic in the car that was monitoring them.

True to her suspicion, a deep voice spoke to them in what must be the Andarion language. Caillen responded, his tone calm and even. They talked back and forth for several seconds until Caillen, his tone never showing any stress, jerked his blaster out and shot the camera in the car and the one on the street.

He moved so fast and unexpectedly that she gaped. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been made.”

14