Hanna and the Hitman - Honey Phillips Page 0,45

of velvety multicolored skin, he now had the same sleek green scales that his grandfather wore. His hands turned smooth and dry in hers. As many times as she had seen him flicker through changes on the ship, it still startled her to be so close to him when he changed.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered.

“It is natural,” Tanor said, but Aidon’s face hardened.

He started to pull her toward the door, but she tugged on his hold until he released her hand. She turned back to Tanor.

“Thank you for everything.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment, and she went up on tiptoes and kissed his smooth green cheek. Aidon growled from behind her, but she ignored him and smiled at his grandfather.

“I hope I see you again.”

“Don’t count on it,” Aidon snarled and grabbed her hand.

This time she didn’t resist and followed him out of the house and down the short path to the jungle edge. She glanced back over her shoulder once, but even knowing that it was there, she could barely make out the outlines of the cabin. Only the tall green figure standing in the doorway made it visible. She lifted a hand in farewell before the curtain of vegetation fell between them.

Chapter Seventeen

Aidon stalked down to the river in frustrated silence. Hanna’s obvious sympathy for his grandfather both annoyed him and woke a specter of guilt. The old man’s words haunted him. He remembered that particular night so well.

One of the other boys had taunted him into spending the night in a cravan’s nest.

The eggs were on the verge of hatching, and he spent the entire night crouched in the thorny branches that made up the huge nest with his hand on his knife. If the eggs hatched, he would be facing five hungry cravans, their razor-sharp beaks and claws more than enough to rend the flesh from his bones. While his natural coloring provided some protection, his inability to shift meant that he would be clearly visible to the hatchlings—or to the parent cravan when she returned. Twice he heard the mother call out, but she did not come back to the nest, spending the night hunting for her offspring instead.

When day finally broke, he scrambled down from the tree and made his way back to the village. He was tired, cold, and hungry, but he was also proud that he had made it through the night. But when he returned, his grandfather was crouched by the fire with the other village elders and instead of praising him, scolded him for not completing his chores and sent him to gather jinsar.

He had seen it as yet another instance of his grandfather’s disappointment and lack of interest in him. Could there have been more to it then he had assumed?

“Aidon, please slow down,” Hanna called out from behind him, and he was immediately consumed by guilt. He turned to look back at her and saw that her pale skin was flushed and dampness trickled down her face.

“I’m sorry, saachi. I was lost in my thoughts.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m not doing a very good job taking care of you today, am I?”

“You started off very well.” Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled at him. “But I must admit it’s gone downhill since then. I wish you would talk to me.”

He knew she was right. As much as he hated to drag up the past, the encounter with his grandfather had proven that he had not escaped it as much as he’d thought.

“I will,” he promised. “But let’s get back to my lodging first.”

He slowed his pace, holding her hand in his as they walked along the path beside the river. The water swirled, sparkling in the morning sun, and although he kept a wary eye out for usan vines and other dangers, he found himself relaxing. As much as he resented being tied to Pardor, being here had its benefits. But the most important benefit was the small female walking so trustingly beside him.

Instead of making the turn off to the landing pad, he continued along the path beside the river. He would return to the ship later to gather some of his belongings, but there was no reason to make Hanna walk the extra distance.

The jungle came closer until only the thin path separated it from the edge of the water. Hanna’s steps slowed as she exclaimed in wonder over various plants. Her enthusiastic curiosity delighted him until she reached for a pitchat plant.

“No!” He snatched her