Warlord's Mercy - Cynthia Sax Page 0,10
on.
Fuck. She was a sick being. “You’re not tracking anyone, sweetheart.” She gently smiled at the male. “Take this.” Lea pressed a container of water against his chest, placed his hands around it. “Ration it.”
If she didn’t return, he might live…if he recovered from his wounds before the water ran out.
She gazed at his rugged countenance. “You’re as primitive as the land I love.”
His profile was cragged. His jaw was square and strong. The male’s long straight black hair draped over wide shoulders.
“And you appeal to me. Too much.”
Acting on impulse, she leaned forward and kissed the scar on the bridge of his nose.
He blinked once, twice, and then scowled. “Can’t—”
“I know we can’t.” She wasn’t that much of a freak. “Stay here.”
She rushed away from Tolui, not wanting to hear any more protests. Daisun and his brutes might capture her. She wanted one pleasant memory to sustain her during that torture and pain.
Grabbing some sand, she attempted to scrub away the handprints off the stone around the entrance to the tunnels. “Shit. It isn’t working.” The blood had dried, wouldn’t be removed.
“Moisture is required.” She peeled her chest covering away from her form.
If Daisun and his sadistic minions ventured near enough to her to see her bare breasts, she wouldn’t escape them. They would catch her, and nudity would be the least of her problems.
Tolui was in the tunnels and was in no state to gawk at her.
And she couldn’t wear her creation again. No clients would buy garments from a fabricator clad in a bloodstained chest covering.
She wiped the leather over her sweat-dappled face, dampening the garment, and rubbed it against the rock. “Yes.”
That cleaned the surface.
“My next project is erasing our footprints.” The chest covering was utilized for that task also. She dragged it over the indents in the sand, trekking away from the tunnels.
Every step brought her closer to danger. Sweat dripped down her spine.
“They went this way.” The male’s shout was terrifyingly loud.
“Fuck.” She whispered that profanity, backing up hastily.
As she moved, she skimmed the sand behind her with her chest covering. The trail should be obscured sufficiently to confuse the males.
The voices grew louder.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She worked faster. Her leg coverings clung to her thighs. Her muscles screamed a protest.
The rock vultures were directly above her when she reached the entrance to the tunnels. She slipped between the gap in the rock. Her vision adjusted to the lower illumination. The ragged chest covering fell from her fingers.
A pool of red surrounded her Warlord. His claws were extended. They were long and sharp and deadly. She trembled.
With excitement. Not fear.
She was disturbed. The solar cycles of living alone must have damaged her brain.
“Put your claws away, Warlord.” Her voice was husky.
His eyes glowed. He resembled a wild creature, a predator ready to pounce.
“It’s me.” She stepped closer to him.
He breathed deeply. His nostrils flared. His claws retracted.
She released her breath. “We have to be—”
“The small footprints by the escape pod belong to that fabricator cunt.” That voice belonged to Daisun, Flor’s killer and her tormentor. “She’s the only being on the planet with boots that finely crafted and feet that size.”
Another male said something she couldn’t hear.
Lea drew her gun, holding it the way she’d seen others hold it. The round button was the trigger. She was almost certain about that.
“I fuck her first.” Daisun’s voice grew louder. He was stationed right outside the entrance. “She’s going to pay for all the trouble she’s caused me.”
“He’ll find me, capture me.” Her murmured words were barely audible over the pounding of her heart. She was so scared.
A large hand covered her mouth. Lea jerked and opened her mouth to scream. Rough skin pressed harder against her lips, stopping the sound from escaping.
A second arm reached around her. Biceps bulged. The golden skin crisscrossed with silver scars was familiar. As was the scent of him.
She inhaled deeply and relaxed. Tolui was behind her, his chest warm against her bare back.
He slid a lever on the gun forward. His breath wafted on her neck.
“You can have her after I’m done with her.” Daisun made that horrifying promise to his brutes.
“There won’t be anything left once you’re done with her.” One of his males grumbled that complaint. “She’s too small to last long.”
“That’s true.” The cruelty edging Daisun’s laughter sickened her.
She recoiled from him, instinctually putting more distance between them, seeking whatever protection Tolui, her injured Warlord, could grant her.
He lowered his hand from her lips to her