Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector (7 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Johnson

Tags: #futuristic, #slave, #futuristic romance, #slave auction, #captive, #auction, #sci fi romance, #alpha male, #dak, #anderas

BOOK: Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector
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Regardless of the consequences, she knew she
had to continue with this plan for Dak. Talon's appearance on the
transport dispelled whatever lingering doubts she had about
Draagon's threat. Stopping at the open front of Smiley's
Outfitters, Kierin shook off her pensive mood. The practical matter
of surviving the trip through the wilderness to her mountain
required her full attention.

"Dak, please wait here. It shouldn't take
long to purchase what we'll need.” She tried not to let his curt
nod bother her.
What do you expect? Undying gratitude for merely
being alive
? Turning to Talon, she tried again to separate them
from the assassin.

"My funds are budgeted for the travel
requirements of two people. I'm afraid you must travel alone.”
Without giving him a chance to argue, she disappeared between
aisles stacked to the ceiling with non-perishable foods,
serviceable clothing and gear for every imaginable type of
terrain.

"She sure is in a hurry to get rid of
me."

Dak nodded absently at Talon's dry comments.
Their budding friendship would wither and die--like any hope he had
of escaping Kierin’s power--once Kierin succeeded in driving Talon
away.

"You know, Dak," Talon continued in a soft,
conversational voice, "I've been doing a lot of thinking the past
few hours. Want to hear my conclusions?"

"No.” Dak's flat tone didn't discourage
Talon.

"Good. A little educational debate gets the
blood pumping. Gravity. Do you think about it much?"

"Talon …."

"No, Dak. I'm serious. Think about the
effect gravity has on everything around us. Without it we'd all fly
around in space.” He waved toward the busy store behind them. "It
keeps all of Smiley's overpriced goods on his shelves. There's a
certain comfort in knowing that anything that goes
up
will
most definitely come
down
. Think about it."

Kierin’s reappearance saved Dak from
answering Talons' insane rambling. When a man is held captive by a
woman with a death warrant on her head, the
last
thing on
his mind is a lesson in physical science. Obviously, Talon spent
too much time alone.

"Mr. Smiley will deliver the supplies to the
stable in two hours. That will give us time for a quick meal and a
bath."

Dak would have smiled at the way Kierin
lingered over the word "bath" if he wasn't so determined to shut
her out.

"Talon …."

"You don't need to say it again, Lady
Kierin. I heard you the first time. I'm going--alone."

Dak watched as Talon slung his satchel over
his shoulder, surprised at the ache of loneliness tightening his
chest. He'd only known the bounty hunter for little more than one
day. Talon was an anchor in the maelstrom of emotions threatening
to destroy him.

"Dak," Talon held his hand out, waiting for
Dak, "take care.” The handshake was more than a formality. It
offered understanding and compassion. "And remember what we
discussed about gravity."

Dak rolled his eyes in exasperation. Talon's
grip on his hand tightened painfully.

"Think about it, Dak. It makes
everything
fall."

Without another word, Talon nodded to Kierin
and disappeared into the milling crowd. Dak felt more alone than he
had since the last of his crew disappeared from Murdock's
prison.

"Gravity?” Kierin questioned, obviously
confused by Talon's comments. Turning in the opposite direction,
she began working her way through the crowds.

With a shrug she couldn't see, Dak fell into
step behind the crystal witch, glaring with murderous intent at any
vagrant unfortunate enough to be standing in their path. Within
minutes she entered one of the weathered canvas tents stretching as
far as he could see in any direction. Being a full head taller than
most of the men he'd seen, he had to bend almost double to enter
the tent. Once inside he had to keep his head lowered unless he
stood in the very center of the room. With quick, quiet precision,
he studied the other patrons of the bathing tent while he tried to
identify the myriad odors assailing him. Stale, sour body sweat,
mildew from the damp canvas and cheap, overpowering perfume
threatened to burn away any sense of smell.

Kierin waited her turn with the proprietor
of the bathhouse (and a major contributor to the body sweat odor).
Just like on Safe Haven, she waited quietly until her presence was
realized.

"Whatch’ya want?” Asked the man seated at
the small table in the middle of the dirt floor.

"I'll require a bath for myself and my
companion--with fresh water, of course."

Pausing long enough to spit a wad of
brownish liquid into the dirt, the man gave her body an insulting
appraisal. "Ain't got but one tub big enough for the both of ya.
It'll cost extra. Fresh water's extra, too."

"Separate baths, if you please.” She fought
the blush she felt coloring her face. The man was crude and
unpleasant but she refused to let him see how upsetting his
comments were. She could feel Dak's burning gaze and struggled with
the need to turn and look at him.

"Suit yaself. Me, I like a little company
when I wash. Cost ya ten silver coins--each--and a gold coin fer
clean water."

"What?!” Kierin sputtered in outrage. "I
didn't spend that much for a week's worth of food! Your sign
outside states the price of a bath at five silver coins and I
…."

The foul-smelling man lunged up from behind
the table, forcing her to take a step back in order to breathe--and
right into Dak's arms. The warmth of his hands lightly gripping her
arms spread a comforting blanket of security all around her.
Refusing to question this feeling, but drawing strength from it,
she straightened.

"Ya want a bath; ya pay the price I say. Ya
don't want no bath, get on outta here. I got others waitin'."

"How dare …."

Before she could finish her sentence, Dak
had shifted her to the side, his arm still securely around her
shoulders. He now faced the obnoxious clerk.

"The lady said she wants a bath and I know
you'll do everything in your power to see that her wishes are
carried out. Won’t you?"

Kierin didn't have to look at Dak to
understand why the other man dropped back into his chair, several
shades paler than he was just minutes earlier. She'd been the
recipient of that laser-beam glare more times than she could count.
His quiet voice made the underlying threat of his words even more
deadly. She and Dak were the only ones who knew he couldn't follow
through with what his tone implied.

“Boy!” The bellow brought a scrawny lad
hardly old enough to be away from his mother running from the back.
“Get that first tub emptied an’ filled fresh. An’ don’ ye take all
day about it.”

“Ten silver coins fer two
fresh
baths.” Ya happy now?”

“Not particularly,” Dak drawled, “but you’ll
be the first one to know if my mood changes. How long before the
lady’s bath is ready?”

“Ten minutes. My place ain’t no rat hole.
Got the hottest water in town straight from one of them underground
spouts. If them brats ain’t careful wit’ the release valve, it’ll
blow the whole tent away. Behind ‘at first curtain.”

Dak lead Kierin in the direction indicated,
grateful--again--that his true feelings were controlled. Even the
rats back on Safe Haven would turn up their noses at this hovel.
His first impression of the tent dropped to a record low when the
young boy motioned them forward past the faded, threadbare rag that
offered little security from anyone passing to the other tubs. The
room, lightened only by the sunlight through the stained canvas,
was ten feet square. A three-legged stool beside the tub and a
cracked mirror hanging from the log framework of the tent were the
only other furnishings. The dirt floor around the large, wooden tub
was at least six inches deep in mud and the sides of the tub
glistened with phosphorescent algae.

“That lousy bastard!” Dak blocked Kierin’s
entrance to the small room. “You are not getting in that filthy
tub.”

Kierin’s small hand against his chest
stopped him from going after the pig out front.

“It’s fine,” she assured him after a quick
look around the room. “Really. That species of algae only grows in
the mineral-rich waters from the sub-surface volcanic pools. It’s
very healthy and invigorating.”

“Pond scum is pond scum, I don’t care where
it comes from.” He wanted desperately to work off some of his
frustration and beating the sniveling bastard senseless would be a
good start. Kierin’s soft giggle stopped him. The sound did strange
things to his chest. He couldn’t remember ever making a female
giggle--except for Elizabeth, but she was such a happy baby that
she giggled at anything. Drawing in as deep a breath as his lungs
could hold, he struggled against the tightness in his chest.

“If you’ll wait for me outside, I won’t be
long.”

“No.” By the Ancients, was the woman insane?
The breeze couldn’t hide behind that sorry excuse of a curtain. Any
man walking by could look his fill.
Don’t you even realize what
dangers there are all around you? What kind of father would allow
his daughter to grow up so innocent in the ways of the world--and
of men
?

“No?” Kierin asked softly, but he saw her
fury in the rich pink color staining her cheeks. “That wasn’t a
request. Wait. Out. Side.”

Dak gently unfurled Kierin’s clenched
fingers, releasing his shirt--and the hair beneath it. “Not this
time, little witch. You told me to do anything I had to do to keep
us safe. I’m not leaving this room until you finish your bath. I
won’t peek.”

It was the return of that lop-sided grin
that melted her anger but she tried to make him think she was still
in control. “I don’t need … Dak! What are you doing? Put me
down!”

The infuriating man had her slung over his
shoulder like a sack of grain! This couldn't be happening. As long
as he wore the amulet he had to obey her commands.

"Dak!"

"Relax, little witch, you don't want to wade
through all this mud. Do you?"

As suddenly as he lifted her, he set her
feet on the wobbly stool. Clutching his shoulders for balance, she
found herself eye level with her handsome Anderan. Their gazes
locked and for the span of a single heartbeat she glimpsed the man
he was before. Before Safe Haven. Before Murdock's slave market.
Before she involved him in her problems.

"I wouldn't wiggle around too much on this
stool but it should work well enough to keep your boots dry.” Dak
released his grip on her waist and turned to the doorway. "No one
will disturb your bath."

Without another word or glance in her
direction Dak stood blocking the entrance to the room. Shoulders
back, feet spread for balance, hands clasped behind his back, he
reminded her of the guards at the city gates. Here was another
piece of the puzzle of Dak, the man. He would stand there,
protecting her, for as long as she wanted to stay in the water. It
wasn't just the stone around his neck. It was his personal
integrity; his belief in the responsibilities of a man to protect
all who are weaker.

"Need help with your buttons, little
witch?"

Dak's teasing comment jolted her out of her
musing.

"I don't know where to put my clothes.” She
didn't have any intention of letting him know how much time she
spent thinking about him.

He backed up the two paces between her and
the doorway. "Toss them over my shoulder. Do you have clean clothes
with you?"

"In the inside pocket of the cape. I'll look
like I slept in them, but at least they'll be clean." She hurried
to undress, not entirely comfortable with Dak so close but not
willing to give up this rare treat. As soon as she climbed over the
rim into the water he moved back to his position by the door.

The water was hot but not too uncomfortable
and the algae on the bottom felt like lush moss carpet. With a deep
sigh, she sank to her chin letting the natural effervescence of the
minerals soothe away her worries. A small wooden bowl attached to
the edge of the tub held soft soap and a clean cloth. With a
delighted giggle, she quickly removed the pins from her hair,
scrubbing until every strand squeaked. Only then did she turn her
attention to the rest of her body, thoroughly enjoying her first
full bath since she left for Safe Haven eight days ago. Eight days
of settling for a quick wash and a change of underclothing. She
really hoped Dak didn't get too impatient but she just couldn't
make herself hurry.

There was that giggle again. It sure didn't
take much to make his crystal witch happy. A slimy, wooden tub
sitting in the mud and smelling of mold and mildew--hell, the pigs
at Falcon Tor lived better than this.
What kind of life have you
had, little witch, if this is a treat for you
?

Dak thought of the massive, blue marble tub
in his bathroom at the palace. He could stretch full out and not
touch any side. As tiny as Kierin was she'd get lost in the bubbles
created by all the jets. Dak’s active imagination pictured an
entirely different bath.

The mirrored room would be hazy with the
steam from the bubbling water. His soap was scented with forest
moss, but he would make allowances for Kierin and add something a
little more exotic. Dak remembered JarDan showing up on the
practice field more than once smelling like Melodie’s favorite
spring flowers. Not even the ribald comments of the men could wipe
the smile from his brother's face.

He wouldn't bother with using a washing
cloth. He’d work the delicate soap into Kierin’s snow-white hair,
massaging her scalp until she relaxed against his chest. He'd start
at her shoulders, working in long slow strokes until every pale
inch of her skin was slick, especially her breasts.
Are your
nipples brown or dusky pink, little witch
?

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