Vulcan's Woman (13 page)

His mouth watered. He wiped it with the back side of his
hand then grabbed his stiff, manly shaft and squeezed it.

Soon.

He swept his gaze across the ground behind his back. The
Flesh Eaters had drawn closer. He smelled them.

Befriending the cannibals was the best thing he could’ve
done. Nothing wrong with having a mass of killers on his side. It was better
than living with a bunch of pansy clan people who cowered if glanced at the
wrong way. All but Wisteria’s father, who’d taken charge of the wimps.

Sledge even helped arrange the attack on the clan with
promises of hides and pelts as payment. It was how he’d accumulated enough furs
to trade for Wisteria.

He drew to his knees when Ivy continued walking then he
stood, waving the tribe to follow. If his plan was going to work, he needed to
grab hold of her before she reached the open meadow.

She didn’t have far to go.

He waited for the Flesh Eaters to reach him before he
charged her. She swung around. Her eyes bulged and she screamed. Like a
frightened deer, she turned and ran.

He caught her by a handful of her hair and yanked her
backward, slamming her into his chest. Again she screamed, digging her nails
into his hand and kicking at his legs. “Shut up,” he commanded, clamping a hand
over her mouth. “Or I’ll snap your neck.” He slightly twisted her head, proving
he would.

Breaths puffed in and out of her nose as she tried nodding.

Ah, fear mixed with the scent of a woman
.
He
sniffed her, drawing a long whiff through his nostrils, released it slowly then
sniffed her again. Womanly. Nearly as womanly as her sister. Maybe he should
drop her to the ground and impale her with his shaft. It’d appease some of the
hunger he developed for Wisteria.

“Sledge, move it,” someone ordered at his back.

Mood destroyer.
He dug his shaft into Ivy’s rear end.
Her lower torso shot forward. “The Flesh Eaters are behind me, and they’re
impatient. If you make one wrong move, they’re going to turn your mother into
their next meal.”

Ivy squeaked.

“You’re going to cross the meadow with me. Act as if nothing
is wrong.”

Again she tried nodding.

“When we enter that part of the forest,” he said, pointing
straight ahead, “you’re going to call to your sister.”

The girl’s eyes squeezed shut but she didn’t move or make a
sound.

He shook her. “Do you hear me?”

Tears slipped beneath her lashes and she mumbled, “Yes.”

A spray of her spit covered his palm and fingers. Slowly he
released her and licked the underside of his hand clean.
Mmm, the taste of
an innocent female.

He poked her back to nudge her forward. “Don’t try nothing
stupid. Your mother’s life depends on
you
.”

Her face tilted toward the ground and she fisted her hands,
clenching them while they crossed the meadow to the other side. He squatted
behind a huge oak, grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. “Go ahead,
call your sister before we’re spotted.”

“What will you do to her?” she asked, her lips trembling.

“I’m taking her home. Go. Quit stalling.”

“What if they attack me?”

“That’ll give me time to get out of here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not your bargaining tool.”

“Maybe not, but your mother is.”

Vulcan yanked on the reins, bringing his mount to a complete
halt just outside the camp perimeter. Trice and ten to fifteen men stood facing
the woods, their backsides turned toward the returning group. They appeared on
guard, each posed in an attack stance and holding a weapon.

“What the hell?” Had a horde of mutants wandered into camp?

Vulcan raised his hand, alerting and silently commanding the
tribe closing in at his back to stop. He couldn’t see anything from the
distance but he refused to barge in and possibly endanger his people. Tuning in
to the slightest sounds, he jumped off his horse and handed the reins to
Bronto. “I’m going in on foot through the back side. Be prepared to take charge
if we’re attacked.”

Bronto wrapped the reins around his hand and nodded.

The echo of a disgruntled voice inside the camp snapped
Vulcan into action. “Zypher, be ready to take aim at my signal,” he said then he
charged past the row of huts to the adjacent woods. Quietly he maneuvered
through the trees, stopping whenever he made a sound, but he doubted anyone
could hear above Birmon’s squawking frenzy. It sounded as though he was being
tortured.

Vulcan’s shoulders tightened. As he drew near the threat he
heard a very distinct voice rise above Trice’s, who’d tried talking the man
down. In the background a female whimpered. It too was a very distinctive tone
and Vulcan’s mouth went dry.

“Take another step, I’ll cut her throat,” the man warned
Trice.

Vulcan froze, for the bastard
Sledge
owned that voice
and had only one reason to have barged into the camp.

Wisteria.

Blood pumped through his veins so ferociously his jugular
throbbed. His guts tightened in knots but if he didn’t stay in control and use
his head he’d jeopardize her life. Why in the hell hadn’t he permanently maimed
the bastard?

“Where is he?” the man shouted. “I want him to watch her
die.”

“He’s not here right now,” Trice responded calmly, though he
probably wanted to kill the son of a bitch too. If the government hadn’t
prohibited attacks, Vulcan’s men would have destroyed him by now.

Fuck the rules. Vulcan refused to step aside while the
lunatic who’d nearly whipped Wisteria unconscious tried abducting her.

The other tribes believed the Barbarians held no value over
human lives, so Sledge obviously realized Wisteria’s importance. Why else would
he barter with her life? He didn’t know part of the barbaric tribe was actually
a group of Americans on a special mission from planet Earth who were ordered
not
to kill. Luckily Vulcan’s primates would wait on his command to attack but it
was getting harder to bite back the order to slay. If not for Wisteria he
would’ve given the word but he couldn’t jeopardize her safety. When the
Barbarians fought, they sought blood.

How had Sledge made it into their camp without becoming a
prisoner in the first place?

Vulcan moved toward the outer edge of trees, looking for an
unobstructed path. Unbelievably he spotted a group of five men from the
flesh-eating tribe standing behind Sledge. Flesh Eaters! So, the SOB had
befriended a band of killers. Fucking traitor. He held an ax to Wisteria’s
throat with one hand. His other hid behind her back, obviously tugging on her
arms. Her body bowed slightly forward, as if removing the pressure from her
shoulders.

Vulcan wanted to tear the bastard to pieces but any recourse
now could prove deadly.

He squatted low in the brush and backtracked a few steps,
lining himself up with the row of his tribesmen still modeled in attack mode.
He wouldn’t underestimate them. They’d have his back.

Birmon stood beside her bare feet, frantically flapping his
wings and squawking while trying to take a bite out of Sledge’s ankles. Bound
to a tree to their left sat Wisteria’s sister, and it became perfectly clear
how the prick made it into his camp.

“Someone had better find him,” Sledge warned, yanking
Wisteria’s arms high behind her back. She gasped. Her eyes squeezed shut and
her lips folded.

While witnessing her blatant state of pain, Vulcan unwound.
He saw blood. And he wanted a taste of it.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sledge shouted, glaring at Birmon. He
pulled his leg back and gave the creature a swift kick. Birmon squealed as he
flew across the yard. He hit the ground and rolled, squawking as he smashed
against the rocks encasing the fire pit. He instantly quieted and his body fell
limp.

“You heartless beast,” Wisteria screamed, pounding her heels
into Sledge’s shins. “You hurt him! Let me go. Let. Me. Go!” she seethed.

Vulcan clenched his fists. If Sledge was determined to kill
her while Vulcan watched, what would stop him the moment Vulcan appeared?
Christ, what could he do?

He turned and signaled Zypher to take aim. Zypher was a
proficient shooter and would plug a bullet between Sledge’s eyes the instant
Sledge attempted to cut her throat.

After saying a quick prayer to save Wisteria’s life and
inhaling a deep breath, Vulcan bolted from the trees and charged forward.
Sledge shot around, dragging her as his shield, pressing the ax blade harder
against her throat.

Vulcan halted. “You looking for me?” he hollered.

Wisteria’s arms were hefted farther up her back. “You stole
my woman.”

“Why don’t you quit hiding behind her like a coward, and
we’ll discuss it man to man.”

“I don’t need to discuss nothing. I came to take her back,
but she reeks of your stench. You’ve poisoned her with your seed.”

The sound of galloping horse hooves closed in at Vulcan’s
back. When they settled and he caught a glimpse of the tribesmen in his
peripheral vision he took a step forward. “You’ve made a mistake by coming
here,” he conveyed to Sledge, gazing between him and Wisteria’s neck.

Sledge’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t deny rutting her. You
made the mistake.”

“Then why not kill me?”

“I’d rather you watch her die first.”

“What makes you think I care?” Vulcan asked, daring to take
one more step.

“If you didn’t, she’d be dead by now. I ain’t nitwitted. I
know what the Barbarians do to captives.”

He wasn’t proud of that reputation until now. And by Sledge
using Wisteria as a shield, it proved he’d believed every derogatory thing he’d
heard. It put Wisteria’s original fears a little more into perspective. “If you
have a problem with me then take it up with me,” Vulcan taunted. Why hadn’t he
killed this bastard?

“I am. By killing her. You think you can steal from me
without recourse? I’m a man of pride,” Sledge growled.

Vulcan feigned laughter. “You stand there with your clan’s
enemy protecting your back, yet speak of pride. You’re a coward, to say the
least.”

“It took courage to befriend their horde.”

“You animal,” Ivy shouted. “You let them kill my brothers
and sisters and chase us from our home!”

“Sounds as if someone struck a bargain,” Vulcan conveyed.

“How could you?” Ivy continued. “You accused my sister of
deceit and whipped her. You need―”

“Someone shut her up,” Sledge ordered, spinning halfway
around to address his men.

“I don’t advise it. Touch her, you’re dead,” Bronto warned.

Vulcan stole a sideways glance to see Bronto poised for
attack on his horse, bow loaded, arrow aimed directly at Sledge’s head.

Just then a deafening wail barreled from the treetops,
followed by heavy swooping sounds.

“Caw. Caw.”

A large animal dive-bombed the camp, its wingspan stretching
at least thirty feet, the length of its body. The horses whinnied and reared,
their hooves stomping the ground while the men tried maintaining control by
yanking on the reins.

Bodies were thrown to the ground right before the horses
turned and fled. Bronto landed near Vulcan but he quickly rolled to his knees
and darted toward Ivy.

The enormous creature descended on Sledge, talons bared for flesh
tearing. He ducked and spun completely around, using Wisteria as a shield. The
animal spiraled upward toward the trees then it dove near Sledge again. And
again. Taunting him.

Vulcan’s heart stopped for those precious seconds when its
claws hovered above Wisteria’s skin.

Sledge shoved her forward with so much force she fell on all
fours then he bolted into the forest, his men close on his heels.

Vulcan tore after him.

“Caw-caw.”

The animal swooped. Vulcan ducked as it flew past him toward
the trees. Just then Wisteria jumped to her feet, dashed to Birmon and dropped
to her knees. The creature diverted its path and came back, circling high above
Wisteria’s head. Very carefully Wisteria lifted the creature and coddled him
like an infant.

Fuck!

Vulcan’s heart vaulted. He glanced at the hovering animal, anticipating
its next move while it eyed
his
woman. Before it plunged to attack he
yanked off the headpiece, tossed it aside and ran, dropping to his knees behind
Wisteria. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tugged her backward.
Protecting her from the creature’s wrath, he cocooned her as close to his body
as possible.

A loud swoosh of air accompanied by a sudden breeze whipped
across his back.

“Caw-caw.”

Quick footsteps and screams rose in a frenzy of what Vulcan
realized were his people running for their lives. The animal landed, its shadow
flowing over his and Wisteria’s heads, darkening the yard. Apparently it was
Birmon’s mother and she sounded pissed.

Vulcan slowly reached for his dagger and fisted the handle.
“Wisteria, I think you need to set him down. Slowly.”

She didn’t disagree or protest while she cautiously lowered
Birmon toward the ground. Before she maneuvered him past her knees, an enormous
head, the replica of Birmon’s, appeared over her lap. Wisteria froze as its
nose lowered to Birmon and began sniffing. Then a serpent-like tongue slithered
from its mouth and began licking his entire body.

Wisteria trembled because Birmon still lay awkwardly in her
hands. One wrong move and she’d drop him. Vulcan wanted to help ease him to the
ground but he wouldn’t dare move, not knowing how the creature would react.

“Ack.” Though weakened from Sledge’s assault, Birmon began
showing signs of life. His wings fluttered slightly and his eyes popped open.

Despite Wisteria’s stiff shoulders and unwavering torso,
Vulcan heard her sigh in relief.

“Ack.” Birmon kicked his talons and rolled over, slipping
from Wisteria’s hands to her lap. She didn’t move as he stretched his neck and
snuggled his head against her breasts. Damn, it appeared as though the little
monster grinned again.

As his mother began stepping backward she stopped to sniff
Wisteria’s hair. After a full inspection, the oversized animal pressed her
snout against the back of Vulcan’s neck. He tightened his fist on the dagger,
waiting for her to take a chunk out of his skin. Chunk, hell, her mouth was
large enough to bite off his entire head.Inhalinga sharp
breath, he held it in his lungs while she sniffed and sniffed, her cold nose
reaching his flesh.

After what appeared to be a thorough assessment of the furs
draped across his shoulders and spine, she backed off and took flight toward
the woods in the area Sledge disappeared. The wind-burst from her enormous
wings caused loose dirt to swirl across the ground and the fire sputtered in
the pit.

“I think she trusts us with her baby,” Wisteria whispered,
as if speaking too loudly may summon her back.

“Lucky for us,” Vulcan said, assisting her to her feet by
the elbow. He shot around. “We’ve got to stop that cowardly bastard. Zephyr,
Trice, Rocko, approach from the west and chase them east. Bronto, Grunt, we’ll
be waiting in their path.”

When he spun around he noticed Bronto had released Ivy’s
binds and he squatted beside her, massaging her wrists.

Masculine, bloodcurdling screams echoed from deep in the
forest. The distinct sound of leaves rustling and snapping branches followed,
accompanied by Birmon’s mother’s angry squalls.

Despite the inability to see within the thick evergreens and
pines, Vulcan stiffened. Then he heard the familiar swooping of enormous wings.
He glanced into the sky. The animal was ascending with a man dangling from her
talons whom she’d plucked from the trees.

Sledge.

The higher she flew, the more distant his screams became. He
twisted side to side, kicking his feet, fighting to disengage her claws from
his shoulders. Unfortunately for him, if he dropped he’d die on impact. Either
way the guy was fucked. That’d teach the bastard. He deserved no less.

“Mercy,” Wisteria murmured.

Vulcan spun around. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes were
wide and fixated on the animal. A red-and-purple scratch had surfaced on her
neck from her ear to the center of her throat.

“I hope he gets what he deserves,” Ivy said at Vulcan’s
back, her voice laden with fear.

He smirked while stepping closer to Wisteria. “He’ll get a
hell of a lot more than that if the creature gets its way.” Vulcan slid his
hand along the side of Wisteria’s throat and gently grazed his thumb across the
scratch. Other than a slight intake of air, she didn’t flinch. “Are you okay,
sweetheart?”

She nodded.

“Where else did he hurt you?”

“Nowhere.”

He didn’t believe it. The dirt on her legs and face
indicated she’d ended up on the ground, struggling with the bastard. It left a
bad taste in Vulcan’s mouth. “Trice!” Vulcan shouted, turning slowly, searching
the faces of the crowd that’d congregated in the vicinity.

“Here, sir,” Trice responded, stepping forward.

“You were in charge.” Vulcan took two large steps, closing
the distance. “How in the hell did that thug get into this camp?”

Ivy moved near Trice and lowered her gaze to the ground.
“Don’t blame him. It’s my fault.”