Kiera's Moon Page 7

  “What are your conditions?” she asked. Her body was doing funny things, like growing warm in places it should not and scattering her thoughts like confetti in a stiff breeze.

  “One, your arm band.”

  She glanced down at it and nodded without a second thought. She hadn’t thought to use it as a bribe; if it were gold, it might be worth something. She held up her arm, uncertain how to release it.

  “You give it willingly?” he asked.

  She searched his gaze and responded with irritation, “If coercion is willing, then yes.”

  He stared at her with his head cocked, and she judged the words had not translated.

  “Yes, I do,” she clarified.

  He dropped his arm from the door and took her forearm. At his touch, the band loosened enough to slide over her hand. Kiera watched as he slid the band over his right hand to settle it at his wrist before stripping his own band off his left arm. He slid it over her opposite hand, and she looked up at him.

  “It’s okay. You can keep both,” she said, confused. “I won’t need it where I’m going.”

  “Two, a kiss.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Kiera retorted even as her heart leapt at the prospect.

  “You want to leave.”

  “Yes, but— ”

  One moment she was protesting, the next his warm, soft lips covered hers. She froze, surprised by his action as well as the warm shock running through her. He plied her lips gently, testing and encouraging, and she felt herself respond despite her indignation. The kiss grew deep. She yielded to his prodding and parted her lips for him. His tongue slid between them. He licked and nipped her lips, explored her mouth, and pulled her deeper and deeper into a state of compliance. She groaned at tasting him; he was as sweetly spicy as he smelled.

  Suddenly, he withdrew. Disoriented, she kept her eyes closed as she savored the kiss. Her breathing was erratic, her pulse flying, her lower belly ablaze with warmth. She leaned against him to steady her balance.

  “Do you concur with my three conditions?” the warrior asked in a husky voice.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  “Good. We go.”

  He moved away from her, nearly throwing off her balance. Her eyes snapped open. He was playing with her. Had the thought been able to gather support among her disjointed faculties, she would have walked away from him. The warrior opened the door and strode into the corridor without waiting. Kiera watched him go, startled. She’d expected him to go out the window to avoid detection.

  “Do you have a plan for leaving?” she asked, trotting to reach him. The hum of the translator was gone. She tapped it and repeated the question.

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  He said nothing but continued at a quick pace. She tapped her translator again despite the hum and determined he was ignoring her. As he neared the main house, she slowed.

  The warrior had no intention of avoiding the people he meant to escape. She stopped in the doorway of the main house leading onto the crowded lawn, aghast. She rose on her tiptoes to follow him with her eyes but soon found she didn’t need to. The raised tent where she had feasted earlier was still occupied by Romas’s immediate family. The moment the prisoner crossed the third step, she saw him.

  Disbelief made her look twice to ensure her eyes hadn’t gone as crazy as her thoughts. The prisoner went straight to Romas’s family, which meant she just made her mess bigger. He would tell Romas of her involvement in the plot to free an enemy and escape, and she would be locked in her bathroom for all of eternity. She felt faint and stepped back into the main house, near tears.

  It wasn’t fair! Not only had she been dragged to another planet by her best friend, but now she was about to be betrayed by a prisoner she tried to free. She pushed herself away from the doorframe and retreated to her room, only to find the prisoner’s bracelet didn’t work. She sat with her back to her door, defeated. She was meant to stay here, to marry one of Romas’s brothers, and to be miserable the rest of her life. She blinked back tears, emotionally exhausted. Dwelling in her misery, she was surprised when his shadow fell across her.

  “We go.” The familiar voice made her frown.

  “You’ve already ruined it!” she exclaimed. She looked up at the prisoner. “You told Romas I was trying to leave, and now he’s going to— ”

  “I told him a member of his family freed me. He can do nothing. We go.”

  “He knows I helped you?” She rested her head against the door, not understanding.

  “He knows a member of his family helped me,” was the response. “He knows not who.”

  “But they know you’re leaving. They won’t let you, will they?”

  “You freed me,” he repeated. She rose, confused but hopeful once more.

  “You’ll still help me?”

  He responded with a curt nod. She wiped her eyes. He was studying her closely, as if awaiting something.

  “I’m ready,” she said uncertainly. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Still he stared until her face grew warm again. A startled cry drew her attention, and she leaned to see past him.

  Evelyn.

  She paled. Evelyn stared at the prisoner, then at her, then back. Her gaze settled on Kiera, a wounded look of betrayal there. Kiera was about to grovel to her friend and apologize when the prisoner snatched her, wrapped a thick arm around her neck, and dragged her against his body. Surprised, she froze when she felt the knife against her cheek.

  “Do not call out for your man, woman,” the prisoner growled at Evelyn.

  Evelyn’s eyes widened, and she looked at Kiera again, this time in anger and concern. Kiera squirmed. The prisoner gripped her more tightly, and she stilled.

  Evelyn took two steps back and let loose a bellowing, “ROMAS!” She turned and ran down the hall.

  “What are you doing?” Kiera asked, and tried to pull away.

  “Quiet, woman, if you want to leave.”

  “As long as you hold to your end of the bargain,” she hissed.

  “And you.”

  “I will.”

  He released her and snatched her arm, starting down the hall. They made it several doors before three of Romas’s clan charged around the corner of a nearby intersection. The prisoner tucked her behind him with one hand and met the first attacker’s blow, blocked it, and flung him down the hall.

  Astonished, she watched the rapid battle. She’d never seen men that big move so quickly, even when watching professional wrestling. The prisoner disabled without killing and without using his knife, which was tucked in his boot. His punch had the impact of a bag of bricks, his kick of a sledgehammer. The giants battled, and she couldn’t help feeling awed by the prisoner’s abilities as he met the blows of all three foes and remained standing. He dispatched the last challenger and strode toward her, eyes roving for more opponents. Unsettled by the display of power, she started to skirt away. He snagged her arm and pulled her down the hall.

  They broke free of the house into the dark night on a side of the house far from the light and merriment of the party. The prisoner ducked down just outside the doorway, dragging her with him. She caught herself with her hands before she did a face-plant on the ground and tried to catch her breath. The prisoner squatted below a window and appeared to be listening for signs of pursuit. She rested on her knees, looking around.

  The night was clear and cool, the sky a beautiful pageant of dark blue silk and brilliant stars, of streaking meteors and two glowing orbs. Her attention was caught on the falling stars of the meteor shower. She’d never seen one on earth. Imagine coming so far to see something she might’ve seen there!

  A bug crawled across her leg, and she swiped it away. It persisted, and she looked down, jumping to see one of several curious cats nudging her leg. She leapt up, knocking the prisoner off balance in her haste to escape.

  “Omigod those things are— ”

  The prisoner righted himself, then grabbed h
er and dragged her down to her knees once more. He wrapped a thick arm around her and pulled her against him until her back was pressed against his chest. She squirmed, unwilling to be defenseless with the tarantulas so close and uneasy with the warm energy flowing again between them.

  “Woman,” the prisoner growled.

  Her movement upset his balance again, and he shifted twice before finally allowing his knees to drop beside hers. His chin rested at her temple. He nudged her head aside, out of his view. Forced to be still, she glanced down. His thighs rested against hers and extended well beyond hers. They were twice as thick. She looked truly tiny compared to him.

  His body was warm against hers, his breathing and heartbeat deep and slow. His thick arms were around her, his muscular chest at her back. He was calm and quiet, waiting.

  It had been a very, very long time since any man had held her. His incredible strength, heat, and scent calmed her fear as much as they excited the woman within her. On her walks at Lover’s Lane near Evelyn’s row house, she’d often seen couples entranced by the rhythmic movement of waves stand at a railing, the man’s arms wrapped around the woman in front of him, his chin on her head. They had looked so peaceful, so comfortable, and she never understood the appeal until this moment.

  She forgot about the tarantula-cats and watched the meteor shower again, protected from the chill of evening by his body heat and the odd energy running between them. The moment dragged out for quite a few minutes, and still no one gave chase. His grip loosened, but she made no attempt to move. They waited a short time longer before the prisoner shifted to rise.

  Kiera roused herself, climbed to her feet, and stretched before the prisoner snagged her arm once more and began the quick pace again. Irritated at the sudden break of warmth and intimacy, she sighed as she trotted to keep up.

  They didn’t go far, and she was surprised to see the grassy slopes end at an abrupt cliff. The dual moons seemed to hover somewhere in the middle of the air of a massive chasm, just like the dozen or so hulking spaceships, whose dark grey skins reflected like skins of massive grey whales in the moonlight. Many were distant enough to be the size of her fist, while those closer were the size of football stadiums.

  She neared the edge and started to panic again. How did she hire a ship?

  Her ill-planned idea was unraveling again, this time at a much more alarming pace. How did she find the one to take her home without telling Romas? There must be a way! She blinked and turned, remembering the prisoner. He stood a short distance from her, watching her intently.

  “Thank you,” she told him uncertainly. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain. I’ve reached the ships.”

  If a warrior could be amused, he was. The emotion was fleeting, more in a subtle shift of his eyebrows than in a smile or sudden change. He waited.

  “You can go,” she said.

  A small, round object twice the size of a dinner plate appeared from the chasm and skimmed over several feet of grass to reach them. She stepped back. It settled into the grass near the prisoner’s feet. He motioned her to it.

  She shook her head, not understanding what it was. The prisoner took her arm and pulled her forward.

  “Noooo,” she said, and tugged away. “Our bargain is over. You’re free. I’m going my own way; you go yours.”

  He looked at her hard, then slung her over his shoulder in one smooth movement. She was about to object when the disc beneath his feet levitated and launched them into the air. Kiera grabbed the prisoner’s tunic, staring in horror as the ground dropped from beneath them. She squeezed her eyes closed, praying.

  They hovered through the air, at last reaching one of the ships, where a doorway yawned open to reveal the damp yellow light and grey corridors beyond. The prisoner stepped into it, the disc soaring away once more. She sucked in deep breaths, on the verge of hysterics after the freaky trip from cliff to spaceship. Her head spun from the journey.

  When he did not immediately set her down, she began to wiggle. The prisoner’s arm was locked around her. He paid no attention and continued to stride down the corridor.

  He was kidnapping her, taking her far away to a place Evelyn would never find her. She’d never see home or Evelyn or earth again! Even Romas! She would gladly put up with the man if he rescued her!

  Where would the prisoner take her? He could be from some other planet, one far enough away that Romas would never find her!

  A door opened, and the prisoner entered, setting her down. Her head spun as her blood dropped from her head to her body, and she sat heavily.

  “Wait!” she shouted at him as his blurry form moved away. “Where are you taking me? We had a deal!”

  He ignored her. The door closed behind him. Kiera made out a bed beneath her and gripped her head with a grimace. She was a fool, the greatest of them all!

  With a groan, she dropped back onto the bed, her head pounding. She was doomed. He would take her to a planet with larger tarantula-cats, where she would be trapped in some room like this for the rest of her miserable life! All because she was too stubborn to ask Evelyn to leave. No … all because Evelyn fell in love with an alien … no, all because Romas was an alien!

  *

  A’Ran, dhjan of Anshan, strode from the room in which he’d left her into the secondary control deck, a small room lit up with scenes of space, the planet, their destination, and the internal corridors of the craft. Ne’Rin stood staring at one screen with interest. Wondering how much he should say, A’Ran’s gaze went to another screen first, the one listing the details of their unsuccessful peace mission. He’d known it would fail, but the elders of the Planetary Council had called in their last favor. He was relieved it was over with in so short a time; he had more battles to plan and more potential allies to recruit, now that the Council was done with its stranglehold on him. He owed them nothing after his mission, which cleared a path for him to do what he must to regain his throne. He’d contact Jetr when they were clear of Qatwal to let him know everything had gone as he predicted.

  Except he hadn’t planned on stoking the fire with Kisolm for what would certainly end in another war. He never did anything without planning it carefully ahead of time, and he’d never broken his honor code, even with Qatwalis.

  “What is this?” Ne’Rin asked.

  His gaze slid to the screen Ne’Rin faced. The woman— his woman— was curled on her bed, her back to him.

  This wasn’t planned, and her appearance was almost too late. His people were decimated, his planet virtually dead. But she was here, and she was his.

  His gaze lingered on her, satisfied after years of rejecting lifemates chosen by his advisors and the Council, and even Ne’Rin’s sister. He’d spent ten sun-cycles looking for her. For fifteen sun-cycles, Anshan women had borne no male children, and drought and dwindling supplies of the ore that made his dhjan wealthy and respected had driven his planet into abject poverty. Now he had the key: his lifemate.

  He knew her on sight, felt the connection pierce his tanned hide and rattle his bones. It was as his father had told him, as if the suns burned a hole straight through his head and the ground beneath him shook. While he never believed he’d overlooked her among the throngs of women he’d met, he had heard even his sisters speak of the missing lifemate and how he had refused every woman on the planet and perhaps somehow overlooked her. Now he knew he was right.

  A potential war with Qatwal wasn’t planned, but he’d seal the fate of his people if he walked away from her. She was worth his honor and his life.

  His lifemate was tiny, standing a full head shorter than the average woman and a head and shoulders shorter than him. She was delicate, with long hair as dark as the night sky and large eyes that turned from blue to green to grey. Her shape was firm but lush and had fit in his arms with her shoulders settling between his when he’d held her outside of the house.

  She reminded him of the little dolls his youngest sister had rejected several sun-cycles before. Her skin was gol
den from the sun, which brought out the enigmatic eyes, and made them glow with the otherworldly beauty displayed by her and the one called Evelyn.

  Ne’Rin turned to him, and he realized he hadn’t answered his advisor’s question.

  “That is nishani.”

  “I thought so,” Ne’Rin said. “She’s different, exquisite. She can’t be from our worlds.”

  A’Ran gazed at her, assessing the battle before him. His blatant disregard for the laws regarding his imprisonment and assumed kidnapping of a dhjan guest would see him ordered before the Council, if not hurl him into a war he could ill afford. But he’d won her as Kisolm’s younger brother, Romas, had decreed, which should alleviate any accusations brought on by their clan, if Kisolm’s father talked some sense into the arrogant crown prince.

  She agreed to give up her armband, the bond to her sister’s family. Romas had made no other conditions, for there were none to be made. Once she gave up her bond and accepted another, she belonged to him. It was no longer kidnapping. Whether or not she wished to accompany him was not his concern. The connection alone might prevent a full-scale war. The two dhjan were now bound.

  And yet he knew war was not so simple between two clans with a history of blood feud as theirs had. He wouldn’t await word from the Council but would warn his counselors and advisors to avoid Kisolm’s planet.

  The second battle he would leave to his sisters: teaching his lifemate how to behave according to dhjan standards. He hadn’t met a woman quite as rough around the edges as his was. Even his youngest sister was composed and respectful of her place and a warrior’s needs and expectations. His lifemate’s expressive eyes prevented her from appearing composed; she had looked either frightened or confused during their short interaction.

  From what he’d gleaned from Kisolm and others during his imprisonment, she was new to the planet and their customs. He didn’t doubt that once she reached her new home and his sisters reminded her how to act, she would be both exquisite and tame. Perhaps the brief stay on the craft would help her adjust. She’d need more help when she realized the rightful dhjan of Anshan and his family were in near-poverty and living in exile. She’d not mated as highly as she might have if she remained with Evelyn and mated with Kisolm, the next ruler of Qatwal. Having been raised as rivals in all areas, A’Ran took a very unwarrior-like satisfaction out of having bested Kisolm finally.