Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,42

so. She’d been chased quite a lot and always by Nedwuts. She’d assumed it was because Pelarus only hired henchmen who were larger and stronger than the average Haedusian. Granted, Terrans and Herps also fit that description, but so far, she’d only dealt with Nedwuts. “Well, no.”

“You see? If the local merchants were after your hides, they’d have put together a posse and come after you long ago, and they probably wouldn’t have hired Nedwuts. I’m guessing Pelarus doesn’t give a damn if you steal pizzas, even if you steal them from him. He wants you, and if he never bothered you until recently, it could be that he didn’t know you were still alive. But it’s more likely that since you’ve grown up, you appeal to him as much as your mother did. Maybe even more.”

Fury ripped through Klara like a Timaval wind, and she leaped to her feet. “He’d like to control me the way he tried to control my mother. She never submitted to him, and neither will I. I’d die first!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moe said, grinning. “Now you need to show the rest of this town exactly how much spirit you have.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s walk down the street like we own the place and see who applauds.”

As Klara took Moe’s hand, her rage dissipated slightly, soothed by the warmth flowing from him. Touching this man made her anger, however righteous it might have been, seem somehow inappropriate. Images of a life with him flickered past her mind’s eye. Safe, comfortable, loving…

“We’re more likely to be shot at than applauded,” Temfilk muttered, bringing Klara’s thoughts back to the current reality. “But I’m game if you are.”

Nexbit sighed. “Me, too.” He nodded toward the Racks. “And they’ll do anything you ask them to.”

Klara wasn’t so sure. The Racks had always seemed to trust her, and she hated to betray that trust. “What about you guys? Do you understand what’s going on?”

Bik’s gaze was even more adoring than usual, and Jal and Lis both nodded with unabashed enthusiasm. “Yah, boss,” they said in unison.

“Those are the first intelligible words I’ve heard them say,” Moe said.

“That’s because they never learned to speak properly,” Temfilk explained. “We think they might’ve been too young when they were taken from their parents. Hadn’t learned the Rackensprie language, much less Stantongue. They seem to understand us well enough, but ‘yah, boss’ and ‘no, boss’ is pretty much the extent of their vocabulary. We’ve never been able to make much sense of their chatter.”

For a moment, Klara could’ve sworn she saw tears welling up in Moe’s eyes.

“That’s so sad,” he whispered. “They were really taken that young?”

Oh, god. He’s not only gorgeous, honest, and kind—not to mention the fastest being I’ve ever encountered—he actually has a heart.

Blinking hard, Klara swallowed her own sob, hoping her voice didn’t betray her. “We have no idea how long the kidnapper had them before dumping them here. But that’s what we’ve decided.” As she stroked Bik’s head, his eyes took on the same dreamy expression they always did. “I’ve heard that Racks are disagreeable as a rule, but these guys have never been anything but sweet with us.”

“That’s because you’ve taken care of them and treated them with kindness,” Moe said gently. “Believe me, it makes a difference.”

Honest to Leon, if he keeps that up, I’ll be crying too.

“Maybe so,” was all she managed to say. She scratched Jal and Lis beneath their chins—their preferred caress—and each of them responded with the blissful coo that never failed to make her smile.

“Okay, gang,” Nexbit said after a rather awkward silence, during which Klara refused to look Moe in the eyes for fear of losing any semblance of control. “Let’s get moving. I can hear my breakfast calling me.”

Moe had heard sadder stories than babies being taken from their parents before their language development was complete, but not lately. To be honest, he’d never liked Racks very much. But Klara was right about these three. They were cute to the point of cuddliness. No wonder she cared so much about them.

But, of course, they were hungry, too.

“I’m all for that.” He squeezed Klara’s hand. Bless her, she’d done her best for her gang, and they obviously loved her for it. Any children of hers would know the same devotion.

And she’s already used to managing what are essentially triplets.

Except for the pregnancy and giving birth part.

Moe had never deluded himself that such things were fun for