Dark Stallion (5 page)

It began to float away with the current the moment she let go of it.

Colwin, giving her a deadly look, snagged it. “You lost this,” he said accusingly.

“It was too heavy,” she responded, wondering what she was being accused of.

“It is a very good thing I caught it then,” he said tightly. “Else the men hunting us might have found it and realized you would not be far from it.”

Emma gaped at him, dismayed. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

He sent her a disbelieving look.

“Well! I hadn’t! I’m not used to being chased!”

He squeezed the water from it, wadded it into a ball, and pitched it toward the bank. Emma was too fascinated by the display of muscle bunching and flexing in his arms to think about it until she heard the wet splat as it hit the ground.

Anger followed swiftly on the heels of her dismay as she turned to look at it. “Now it’ll be muddy!”

“The smell of dirt will be an improvement.”

Emma gaped at him indignantly at the insult. “I’ll have you to know it smelled like that when they brought it to me and made me put it on! It isn’t mine!”

“You arrived in King Bart’s court with no clothing?” Aydin asked.

“Well! I wasn’t naked if that’s what you’re implying! They took
my
clothes and gave me this to wear.”

“Why would they do that?”

Because the slacks and knit top had been a lot more ‘exotic’ than her hair and they hadn’t been nearly as thrilled about them as they had been her hair! “I don’t know,” she lied crossly. “I couldn’t understand half of what they said. Their accent was even worse … uh … I wasn’t familiar with it.”

She was lucky they’d even spoke English at all, but the strange accent and a lot of the words still weren’t familiar to her.

It was
so
weird, and one of the many things she was having trouble coping with! It was almost as if she’d been transported back in time to ancient England … except that
this
England had never existed—not with centaurs!—and she couldn’t imagine that some sort of time warp would
also
have transported her halfway around the world!

“Bathe if that is your intention,” Aydin interrupted. “We will only rest a few hours and we must be on our way again.”

Soap would’ve helped. Emma didn’t argue with him, though. Every time she opened her mouth, they pumped her with questions she didn’t feel safe answering.

Since he’d brought it up, she wondered where they were headed and what they meant to do with her. She didn’t like the idea of asking when there was always the possibility that it might not be on their minds if she didn’t remind them—probably a very slim chance—but still a possibility given their situation.

She wasn’t particularly worried about the comment that they were lost. Clearly, they were accustomed to living off the land, and they’d figure something out even if they
were
lost for a while. And she’d didn’t think they would be lost long, anyway, before they figured it out. She was more interested in what they planned to do once they found their way.

Trade her for the babies.

It occurred to her to wonder if they’d only said that to elicit sympathy, but she dismissed it. Why bother when she was at their mercy?

She struggled with her sympathy, wanting to dismiss the plight of their babies over her own concerns. She did
not
want to be handed over to King Fart in the worst kind of way. She didn’t think she could stand being raped by the son-of-a-bitch even once and the prospect of being married to him and having to put up with being pawed by him constantly …. Well, if it came to that she might just jump off the top of the castle next time, without a rope to break her fall!

She’d never thought she would contemplate such a thing, but there really
were
worse things than death! The man had the biggest damned lice she’d ever seen in her life! And they weren’t just crawling in the hair on top of his head! His beard had been infested, too.

She supposed it was too much to hope they’d eaten his dick off!

Not but what King Fart was liable to throttle her himself if she couldn’t control her gag reflex! He’d been too convinced she was taken ill to do anything like choke her to death the first time, but she didn’t think she could count on his arrogance to protect her if it became a habit. He was bound to notice a pattern!

It hurt to think of pure babies, even centaur babies, being forced to slave in the bastard’s mines, though. She loved babies! Maybe she was a little obsessive about it because she couldn’t have one of her own. She didn’t know if that was part of it or not, but she could hardly bear the idea of sweet, innocent little ones being treated so cruelly!

That was the main reason she’d become a kindergarten teacher instead of teaching one of the higher grades—the need to protect, nurture, and guide.

It struck her abruptly to wonder if that was why she’d ended up here—where ever here was—a sort of stroke of fate because she was needed? Maybe she hadn’t just accidentally stumbled upon the doorway to this place? Maybe she’d been guided by some force?

She didn’t really believe in that sort of thing, though. Besides, she’d been needed where she was. She’d been playing hide and go seek with her students when she’d ducked into the hollow of that damned tree …. She supposed it said something about her that her first thought when she’d come to was that she’d left her students alone, without supervision. She wasn’t sure what, but something.

It had reassured her enough to realize how close they’d been to the school and how unlikely it was that the children might have gotten lost when they were virtually within sight of the playground to finally focus on her own problems, but it still worried her. If she’d known, absolutely, that the children were alright, she would’ve felt better.

There was no way to find out, though, unless she could figure out how to get back. Unfortunately, by the time she’d come to, she was pretty sure she wasn’t in the same place where she’d emerged. It had to have been near, or maybe inside, the castle. She was sure of that—almost—because she didn’t think she could’ve been unconscious very long, but that wasn’t much to go on.

She supposed she’d had some notion that the woods she could see from her window must be a sort of counterpart to the woods she’d disappeared from—in this plane. Even if she was right, though, Aydin and Colwin had nixed any chance she might have had of finding it again.

And, if they hadn’t, King Fart probably would have!

She didn’t
want
to have to deal with the problems here! She wanted to go home! She wanted to be safe, and clean, and focus all of her love and attention on her students so she didn’t have to think about being alone and never having a baby of her own!

She was so deep in thought that it startled her when she felt Aydin’s hand settle on her cheek. He framed her face with the other, tipping her head back so that he could study her face.

“You are not like the others,” he murmured, his deep voice sounding even deeper than before, almost husky.

Emma felt a frisson of sensual awareness flicker through her, felt her heart flutter uncomfortably in her chest.

“Where are you from, little Emma of the fiery hair and fiery spirit?”

Emma swallowed with an effort, abruptly so keenly aware of his body so close to hers that she almost imagined she could feel his bare skin against hers. Her body tingled with sharp awareness of his appeal to her senses. The desire to feel his hard mouth on hers was abruptly so keen her mouth went dry with the thirst for it.

“I just want to go home,” she whispered, feeling a strange reluctance pull at her even as she said it. She didn’t want to go home, not at that moment. She wanted him to kiss her, caress her, make love to her.

She couldn’t recall ever feeling such a powerful desire only from standing near a man—one she barely knew, who wasn’t even a man.

Was he magical then, she wondered?

“Where is home?” he asked, his breath nearly as ragged with desire as hers.

She sensed it, and it made a powerful wave of want move through her, made her heart hammer against her chest wall, made her breasts tighten, made her belly clench with hopefulness.

“Through the tree,” she whispered a little drunkenly, hopeful that he’d close the distance between them and kiss her.

Instead, he drew back to study her face. “The tree?” he echoed sharply, bringing her abruptly back to awareness.

She gulped, feeling a wave of cold flush the heat from her. “Trees. The forest.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her, but, thankfully, he didn’t push it. Instead, he helped her wade out of the stream, releasing his hold on her once they’d gained level ground and allowing her to squeeze as much water from her dress as she could.

It clung uncomfortably anyway, and she was almost sorry she’d given in to the impulse to try to clean it while she was wearing it. She couldn’t see that the soaking had improved the smell all that much! Beyond that, once they’d returned to the area where they intended to rest for a few hours, according to Aydin, the gown was still dripping wet, and she had no where to sit except on the ground.

After looking around a moment, she finally chose a spot where some vegetation had been crushed down and sat on that. She wasn’t as worried about stains as she was the mud that was going to result from her wet gown scrubbing along the dirt.

Although, upon reflection, she thought the smell of fresh mud preferable to the smell of sour sweat.

Colwin approached her almost as soon as she’d settled. She looked up instinctively when he stopped in front of her, but her gaze didn’t go any higher than his crotch—his genitals. A jolt went through her when she found herself almost eye-to-eye with his enormous package laid bare for her greedy gaze. It took her a few moments to realize he wasn’t just flashing her.

“Here. It is not much, but it is something to appease the hunger for a little while.”

Lifting her head somewhat reluctantly from his eye candy—because as soon as she’d gotten over the first jolt of shock she was more interested in examining that particular part of his anatomy than looking away—she discovered he’d gathered the front of his loincloth up to form a pocket for the berries he’d been gathering while she was at the stream with Aydin.

She lifted her hands to form a bowl to accept the offering. She’d been the next thing to a dehydrated husk before. Once she’d drank all the water she could hold, though, she discovered her stomach was so empty from up-chucking on the king that the water sloshed in her stomach. The berries were so tart she couldn’t eat them without making a face and shuddering.

Colwin shared with his brother and then settled across from her. When she finally managed to relax the muscles of her face, she discovered he was regarding her with a mixture of irritation and amusement. Aydin didn’t try to hide his amusement. He chuckled outright, but he refrained from comment.

Emma decided to ignore both of them, although she was damned if she thought it was amusing. If they hadn’t been eating the berries themselves, she would’ve suspected it was a mean joke. It was like trying to eat lemons.

There was enough to appease her growling stomach, though. There was also the added benefit that the damned things were so tart they set her salivary glands into overproduction and eased the dryness of her mouth.

“I will take first watch,” Colwin volunteered.

Aydin studied him thoughtfully for several moments, but he knew asking his brother if he actually felt up to it would only set his back up. Upon consideration, he thought it would probably be better if Colwin did take first watch. He was certain his brother was exhausted from the run after what he’d been through. More exhausted than he was and more likely to fall asleep and he could probably stay awake better, now, than if he was allowed to sleep a couple of hours and awakened to watch. He merely nodded, therefore, and turned to study the woman speculatively.

He thought she was entirely too appealing to both him and Colwin for their own good, and, worse, he was fairly certain she was well aware of the effect she was having upon them. He would’ve liked to think that little incident at the stream was evidence that she was equally attracted to him, but he’d never seen a benefit to self-deception. The women of his own tribe shunned him. As much as he would’ve liked to think she was attracted to him, against all reason, he knew it would be a serious mistake to believe that.

He got up reluctantly and approached her after glancing around for a likely possibility for anchoring her so that they might get a few hours sleep. “Get up.”

She looked up at him uneasily, and he felt his belly clench. When she’d stood up, he led her to a small sapling and took her wrists. Pulling her arms around the sapling, he tied her wrists together, making sure the knot was tight enough to hold her but still loose enough to allow some circulation.

She gaped at him with a mixture of anger, accusation, and dismay.

“Do you think that is necessary? I will be on watch.”

“I would prefer it if you are watching for the king’s men instead of chasing her through the woods.”

“I won’t run,” Emma said plaintively. “Where would I go?”

Aydin shrugged. “To your people?” he suggested dryly. “I’ve no mind for a sojourn in the dungeon. I have been King Bart’s guest before. His hospitality for our tribesmen leaves a lot to be desired.”

“But … they aren’t
my
people! I told you!”