Rise of the River-Man
Author: L.S. O'Dea
Date: 2015-10-30 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Fantasy; Science Fiction; Paranormal; Young Adult
Description: This is an alternate cover edition for ASIN B014I7M82I Guards were bred to serve the Almightys... Too strong to be purchased, too tainted by a lost fight, Mutter waits for execution. Death is the only way out of this cell, unless another Almighty purchases him. And one does - as long as Mutter swears to obey. Guards always obey. There's food and a soft bed. And screams from other cages, smells like nothing he's known. They're giving him shots, and letting him walk around the compound but nothing moves as it's supposed to. They trust him. He's bred to follow their rules. But if he doesn't escap
Publisher: LSODea

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Lake Of Sins: Betrayed

Lake Of Sins, Volume 4

L. S. O'Dea

Published by L. S. O'Dea, 2017.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

LAKE OF SINS: BETRAYED

First edition. July 3, 2017.

Copyright © 2017 L. S. O'Dea.

ISBN: 978-1942706090

Written by L. S. O'Dea.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Also by L. S. O'Dea

Chimera Chronicles

Rise of the River Man

Feeding Fersia

Breaking the Brush Men

Rage Of Rattus Norvegicus

Leaving Level Five

Lake Of Sins

Lake of Sins: Secrets in Blood

Lake of Sins: Hangman's Army

Lake Of Sins: Betrayed

Whispers From the Past

Lake of Sins: Escape

Standalone

Lake of Sins Series Box Set Books 1-3

Chimera Chronicles

A Demon's Gift

Table of Contents

Title Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By L. S. O'Dea

Lake Of Sins: Betrayed

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1:  CONGUISE

CHAPTER 2:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 3:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 4:  HUGH

CHAPTER 5:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 6:  HUGH

CHAPTER 7:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 8:  HUGH

CHAPTER 9:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 10:  HUGH

CHAPTER 11:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 12:  HUGH

CHAPTER 13:  HUGH

CHAPTER 14:  HUGH

CHAPTER 15:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 16:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 17:  HUGH

CHAPTER 18:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 19:  HUGH

CHAPTER 20:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 21:  HUGH

CHAPTER 22:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 23:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 24:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 25:  HUGH

CHAPTER 26:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 27:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 28:  CONGUISE

CHAPTER 29:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 30:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 31:  CONGUISE

CHAPTER 32:  CONGUISE

CHAPTER 33:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 34:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 35:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 36:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 37:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 38:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 39:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 40:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 41:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 42:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 43:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 44:  HUGH

CHAPTER 45:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 46:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 47:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 48:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 49:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 50:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 51:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 52:  HUGH

CHAPTER 53:  HUGH

CHAPTER 54:  HUGH

CHAPTER 55:  HUGH

CHAPTER 56:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 57:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 58:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 59:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 60:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 61:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 62:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 63:  JETHRO

CHAPTER 64:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 65:  TRINITY

CHAPTER 66:  CONGUISE

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WHISPERS FROM THE PAST

Find out what happens next. | https://www.books2read.com/u/mgrNPK

Characters

Rise of the River Man

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Also By L. S. O'Dea

To all of you who contacted me telling me about my books, through email or reviews—THANK YOU.  Some days, that’s the only thing that keeps me writing instead of watching television.  Writing is a lot of work but your kind words and enjoyment of my stories keep me motivated.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, thank you to my beta readers and to my ARC Readers. I appreciate all that you do.

CHAPTER 1:  CONGUISE

––––––––

CONGUISE STARED OUT THE window at the rising sun.  It was going to be a beautiful day, crisp and sunny.  Unfortunately, he’d spend most of it in the basement.  He could hold off another day or so, but sunny or rainy this task was never pleasant, so he might as well get it done and he would.  Right after breakfast.

He added another slice of toast to the large tray of bread and fruit on the counter and picked up his plate of toast and sausage, carrying it to the table.  He refilled his coffee and sat.  There were two papers waiting for him today.  It was early for the rebel’s propaganda.  Usually, Afar only brought that paper on Saturdays.  His hand skimmed over the rebel’s rag.  No.  He’d read the official paper first, like always.  He scanned the news while he ate.  There wasn’t anything unusual or interesting in the pages.  His eyes darted to the other paper.  If there was nothing interesting to report, why were the rebels early with their lies?  He folded the paper and put it aside, picking up the second smaller one.

There was nothing but more stories about the freeing of the Guards and Servants from the shelters.  It seemed the rebels had nothing new to report either.  He turned a page and his hands shook as his gaze landed on a photo of Hugh and that creature they called Trinity.  Hugh was bandaging her arm.  Apparently, she’d been injured while helping to steal the Guards from the shelter.  Hugh gazed at this female as if...as if he were infatuated with her.  The professor’s hands fisted, wrinkling the paper.  It was that creature’s fault Viola was dead.  Viola had loved Hugh and he was betraying her again, defiling the memory of her love with that thing.  He pushed his plate aside.  One day, he’d kill Hugh.  All he had to do was decide how and the more brutal the better.

Afar stepped into the kitchen from the pantry, closing the door behind him.

Conguise took a deep breath as he straightened the rebel’s paper and set it aside.  “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir.  There are four Guards in the back room.”

“Get two more.  We may need them.”  He walked to the counter.

“Of course, sir.”  Afar collected the abandoned breakfast dishes.

Conguise added a glass of water and a large knife to the tray of bread and fruit.  His reflection caught in the spotless blade.  He’d aged a lot.  Sorrow did that to a man.  He opened the pantry door, grabbed the tray and headed down the stairs.  Dread filled his stomach, churning with each step.  This wasn’t a task he enjoyed.  He wasn’t a cruel man, but he’d never again prepare or eat any food without knowing firsthand the source of the meat.

The first time he’d done this he’d had no idea what to expect.  His plan and execution had been flawed and the results had been horrible.  He stepped off the final stair, took a deep breath, plastered a smile on his face and entered the concrete room.  He’d been right about leaving the room bare.  It was cold and desolate, but easier to clean than tile or wood.

“Good morning, Professor.”  The young, male Producer was lying on the cot in the cage.  He scratched his chest, his shirt stained with dirt and sweat, as he stood and walked to the table and chair.  “Whatever you have smells good.  I’m starving.”

The cage was filthy, clothes and bedding littering the floor.  This male was slovenly and his habits were unclean.  “Yes, I’ve brought homemade bread—the brown kind you like.  I even toasted a few slices.”

“Great.”  The male locked his feet in the restraints attached to the floor by the chair and then snapped another shackle around one of his hands.  “Can I leave the other off today?”  He held up his free hand which was slightly swollen.  “I’ve injured my wrist.”

“You know the rules.”  The professor placed the tray on the table outside of the cage and retrieved the key from the wall across from the cell.

“Okay.”  The Producer’s tone was sullen as he snapped the other lock around his wrist.  “Ouch.”

“I’ll take a look at your injury after breakfast.”  Conguise opened the door.  It was best to keep up the chatter, no matter how inane.  “It doesn’t look too bad.  A cold compress should make you feel as good as new.”  He picked up the tray and carried it into the cage, placing it in front of the Producer.

“Looks good.”  The Producer lifted his hand toward the bread.

“Rules.”  The professor touched the male’s shoulder.

“Okay.”  He dropped his hand and closed his eyes, tipping back his head.

“How did you hurt yourself?”  Conguise picked up the knife.

“I was trying to stand on my hands.”  The Producer’s face flushed a bit.

“Whatever for?”  He stroked the male’s hair.  He was always surprised at how soft it was.  It reminded him of brushing Viola’s hair when she’d been a little girl.

“I was bored.  Can I eat now?” asked the Producer, eyes still closed.

“Not yet.”  His voice was calm.  That was important.  These creatures could sense dread and unease.  He raised the knife and in one smooth stroke slashed the Producer’s throat.

The male stiffed for one moment, his eyes opening and meeting Conguise’s.  Confusion and surprise filled the male’s visage as he tried to stand, but the restraints restricted his movements.  Conguise stepped back as the Producer grasped his neck, pushing the chair and table as he stumbled.  The professor looked away from the betrayal in the creature’s brown eyes and focused on the blood pouring onto the floor.  There was always so much blood.  He needed to figure out a way to capture it.  It’d be good fertilizer and some could be saved for blood sausage—cooked with peppers and onions would be delicious.

A few minutes later there was a thud as the Producer hit the table and fell to the floor.  Conguise stepped out of the cage as six Guards moved down the hallway from the backroom.  They always knew exactly when to arrive.  He wasn’t sure if it were the sound or the smell, but he was grateful.  He didn’t like to be alone down here as the body twitched its final fight.  He strode to the room where the Guards had been.  They’d follow in a few minutes with the carcass.

By the time the Guards carried the Producer into the room and hooked him on the hoist, the professor was ready.  He had his knives, saw and spreader lined up on the table.  The Servants cleaned and set up the room after each butchering, but he always sharpened his knives and double checked everything.

“He was a big one,” said a Guard.

Conguise placed his hand over the Producer’s eyes, closing them.  They reminded him too much of Viola’s on the cart, glassy and unseeing.  “Tell Afar to get another one right away.  Have him get a large one, but make sure it’s obedient.  I won’t have much time with this next one.”  He was in charge of the menu for Jason’s granddaughter’s college graduation in a few months.

CHAPTER 2:  JETHRO

––––––––

IT’D BEEN WEEKS AND there was still no sign of the Producers.  Jethro was glad.  He liked the thought of young Producers running free through the forest.  He inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of the forest—rabbit, squirrel, earth.  He’d missed this.  He didn’t ever want to go back to living in the suburbs and managing the Producer encampments.  He should flee the Protective Services and live out here.  He sniffed again, half-hoping to catch a whiff of Trinity.  He’d caught her scent when they’d first set out, following the Producers’ trail away from the encampment.  No one else even noticed it, but he’d recognize her scent anywhere.  It’d accompanied her into his dreams every night since he’d seen her in his basement.

As soon as possible, the Producers had moved from the brush to the clearer sections of the forest, thus leaving no trail of broken branches and smashed bushes.  The Guards had resorted to following the scent but that hadn’t taken them far.  The smell of Producer had been all over the forest and then it’d vanished, replaced by pine and herb.  He had no idea what Trinity had used to cover their odor and he wasn’t going to try and figure it out.  Conguise and Jason expected him to help and he was, but he didn’t have to like it.  He didn’t have to like Captain Calvin Folgrant either.

The captain was arrogant without cause.  If he were the best the Almightys had to offer, Hugh and the others would never get caught.  Cal had spent most of this morning droning on about how important it was to be quiet in the forest, especially when hunting.  It was hard to keep a straight face when he’d catch the disgusted looks the Guards shared with each other.  There was no way anything didn’t know about their approach with Cal’s constant chattering, but finally the captain had fallen silent.

“This way,” said Brick, one of the Guards.  He had his head tipped back, sniffing the air.  “Producer, I’m sure.”

Jethro’s nose twitched.  Sure enough.  It was Producer.  Cal’s entire army followed Brick through the forest.  He trailed a little behind the Guards, not wanting to be in the lead and give any indication that his sense of smell was better than it should be.  He also didn’t want to be in the back because that was where Cal and the other Almightys were and he didn’t get along with them.  They were condescending toward him and the Guards.  Only the threat of being sent back to the Producer encampment had kept him from punching the sneers off their faces more times than he could count.

As they continued following the faint odor of Producer, the morning turned into late afternoon.  Some of the Guards were grumbling but he didn’t care.  The longer it took to catch the Producers, the longer he got to enjoy the forest and since Cal had insisted on bringing his entire troop, they weren’t going to capture anything.  Even quiet, fifty Guards made noise and gave off scent.  He hadn’t seen so much as a squirrel in their path.

The ripple of the command to stop filtered through the troops.  He leaned back against a tree, enjoying the sun on his face.  This was typical of Cal’s astute leadership.  They had even less of a chance of catching anything when they weren’t moving.

The Guards parted as Cal and his second approached.

“Jethro, take four Guards and continue on.  If you find something report back,” said Cal.

He pushed off from the tree.  “Yes, sir.”  So, Cal wasn’t stupid enough to keep hunting with an entire troop of Guards.  That was a surprise.

“Take Indy, Brick and those two.”  Cal pointed to two other Guards and then faced Jethro again, his lips twitching in amusement.  “I expect results.”  His eyes darted to his second.  “Or Jason and Conguise do.  I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Yes, sir.”  He kept his face impassive as he turned and headed into the forest.

Cal had purposely picked the worst Guards in the group.  Brick was as dumb as his name.  He was big and muscular but stupid and the other two were so young that they should be home playing with toys not running around in the forest.  Indy was another story.  The Guard was about his age, had dark brown hair, kept his beard neatly trimmed and had brown eyes that sparkled with humor and intelligence which was Indy’s main problem.  He was smart and found amusement in almost every situation, causing him to take nothing seriously.

They made their way through the woods in silence, none of them except the two, young Guards happy about this assignment.  Jethro knew it was a waste of time.  Whatever Producers had been in the area were long gone, warned by the approaching troop of Guards.  This was sabotage on Cal’s part.  When they went back into town in a few weeks, the captain could report to Jason and Conguise that Jethro had been given an opportunity to capture Producers but had failed.

“Smell that,” said Brick, grinning.  “We found the scent again.”

“Yeah.”  Indy turned toward Jethro.  “Producer.  A lot of scent but it’s old.”

He nodded.  He’d realized that over ten minutes ago.

“I don’t think there’ve been any Producers around here in weeks,” said Indy.

“Are you sure?”  He was positive.

“Yeah.  The first scent we’d caught had been fresher.  We must’ve lost it somewhere and picked up this trail.”

“Hmm.”  He wasn’t sure what else to say, since he agreed.  He wanted to tip back his head and inhale deeply, catch all the scents in the air, but he didn’t dare.

“We should report this to the captain,” said Indy.

“Not yet.  Let’s follow the trail a little longer to see where it leads.”  He was in no hurry to return to the others.

“It’s not going to lead to any Producers,” grumbled Indy.

“Humor me or do you want to go back and listen to Cal gloat?”

Indy eyes widened and a smile spread across his face.  “I thought all you Almightys were best friends.”

“Hardly.”  He headed into the brush.

“I’d keep that quiet, if I were you.”  Indy jogged to catch up with him.  “Some of these idiots are loyal to Captain Cal.”

“Good to know.”  He didn’t care what Cal thought of him, but the man was going to report on his progress which would eventually decide his fate.  He didn’t want to lead his own troops against Jackson, Hugh and Trinity, but he also didn’t want to run the Producer encampments.  Eventually, he’d have to send Producers to the Warehouse District and he wasn’t ready for that.  He needed time to figure out how to get out of both of these jobs and still keep his home.

His nose twitched.  Guard.  He paused, holding up his fisted hand to signal the others to stop.  This scent was fresh.  The Guards were close.  The urge to track them down, to hunt, was strong but he didn’t want to catch them.  If he were alone, he’d stalk them through the forest for the challenge, but he wasn’t alone.  If he caught them, he’d have to turn them over to Cal.  “Ah, it’s getting dark.  We should go back.  Let Cal gloat and be done with it.”

“You just said...”  Indy stared at him like he was crazy.

“Come on.”  He turned around.  He could live with the Guard thinking he was an idiot.

“Why did you stop?”  Indy looked back the way they’d been heading.

“Because I decided it was time to return.”  He kept marching forward.  “Now, come on.”

Brick and the others followed him.

“I’ll catch up.”  Indy darted off in the direction they’d been traveling.

“Wait here,” he ordered the three Guards as he ran after Indy.  The damn Guard would catch the scent soon.  He skidded to a halt.

Indy stood with his finger on his lips to signal silence.  The Guard pointed through the vegetation at a clearing.  It was an abandoned camp.  The old scent of Producer, Servant, Guard and Grunt assailed his nose.  He wanted to punch Indy in his smiling mouth.  This camp had to have been used by the Allied Classes.  Only the AC would be this large, diverse and deep in the forest.

Indy nudged him and pointed to the far side of the camp.  Three Guards sat in a circle.  One was putting a rabbit on a spit over a newly started fire.  The other two were taking food out of their backpacks.

There was no way they’d capture these three, especially since he wasn’t going to be very helpful.  Physical work wasn’t expected of him.  He was an Almighty.  He signaled for Indy to circle around to the other side, but the Guard shook his head, giving him a disgusted look.  Indy tapped his nose, pointed at the AC Guards and held his fisted hand up in the signal to wait.  Dread filled his chest.  Even Brick was smart enough to come running at the scent of fire and roasting rabbit.

He needed to do something fast or they were going to catch these Guards.  “We...”  He caught Indy’s wrist, stopping the Guard from covering his mouth.

Indy’s eyes widened for a second as he grabbed Jethro’s arm with his other hand and headed away from the camp.  Jethro walked as loudly as he could, earning him more disgusted looks from Indy, but his efforts were wasted because the AC Guards didn’t move.  He would’ve heard them if they had.

Indy stopped when they were several yards away from the camp.  He dropped his hold on Jethro’s arm and studied him.  “How’d you block me?”

“It wasn’t hard.  You were slow.”  He didn’t shout but he wasn’t quiet either.

“Shhh.”  Indy glanced around and the tension around his eyes eased as Brick and the other Guards crept up to them.  “Boys, we found some Guards.”  He turned to Jethro.  “Wait here.  It’ll only take a minute.”

“No.  I’m coming with you.”  He’d use the opportunity to make as much noise as the average Almighty did when trying to be quiet, which was a lot.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Indy.

“Too bad.  I’m in charge.”  He almost cringed at the words.  He sounded like Cal and every other asshole Almighty in the troop.

Indy rolled his eyes, but didn’t say a word as he led the way back to the camp and ordered the others to surround the area.  Jethro had stomped and hit every dried twig and pile of dead leaves he could, but the AC Guards were chatting and focused on their meal.  They were fools.

Jethro held his breath as one of them looked up and sniffed, but the AC Guards were upwind from them.  There was nothing else he could do.  His four Guards were too close now.  If he made a noise, his Guards might get hurt.  He couldn’t do that.  He wasn’t a traitor.

In a coordinated action his Guards stepped out of the brush.  The AC Guards scrambled, but it was too late.  His Guards were trained in combat and had the element of surprise.  In less than ten minutes, the three AC Guards were tied up in the center of the old camp.

Indy jogged over to him, a huge grin on his face.  “Captain Cal isn’t going to like this.”

He didn’t either.  Perhaps he could arrange to set them free on the way back to the others, maybe not all three of them, but at least one.  “Ah, we need to take them back—”

“Captain Cal will want to see this camp.”  Indy gave him another disgusted look.  “We should be able to figure out which direction the AC headed from here.”

“Yeah, right.”  Another thing he didn’t want.  “Go back and get the captain.”

Indy turned to the youngest Guard.  “Speck, you need—”

“No.”  His voice was low and commanding.  He needed Indy gone not one of the other idiots.  “I said you should go.”

Indy gave him a puzzled look.  “I thought we could start interrogating—”

“The captain will want to do that.  Plus, you should get the credit for this.”  He slapped Indy on the back.  “You were the one who wanted to keep going.”

“Thanks.”  Indy gave him a suspicious look.

“I’m not Cal.  I believe in acknowledging good work, no matter who does it.”

“I’ve never known an Almighty like you.”  Indy sent him another suspicious look before jogging into the forest.

“Brick, you and the others watch these guys.”  He turned and headed into the forest.

“Sir,” called out Brick.  “You shouldn’t go out there alone.”

He didn’t need this right now.  He needed to hide any traces of the Allied Classes’ trail he could.  “I won’t go far, but I have to take a shit.”

“Oh.”  Brick chuckled.  “First capture can do that to a guy.”

He slipped into the brush and headed a few yards out.  He had to be far enough away that his Guards wouldn’t hear him.  He raced through the forest, his feet silent in the grasses.  He inhaled deeply but there were no scents, nothing but pine and herb.  It didn’t make sense.  If the odors had dissipated naturally, there wouldn’t have been the faint scent of Producer, Guard, Servant and Grunt all over the abandoned camp.  He stopped.  There were some broken leaves and branches.  It wasn’t much but it was a sign.  He followed the path for a little way and then snapped some twigs and tore some leaves.  The sap would be stronger on the fresh breaks.  A smart Guard would wonder why some of the scent was fresher, but this army didn’t have too many smart Guards.  He cringed.  That wasn’t fair.  Most of them weren’t dumb; they just weren’t used to the forest.

He continued to circle the camp, doing his best to hide any paths.  Lucky for him, the AC had done a good job of concealing their trail.  The sound of the approaching army drifted to him on the wind.  It was time to go back.  He’d done what he could to protect Jackson and the others.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do for the three Guards they’d captured, but it wasn’t all bad.  Sure, the Guards would be questioned and taken into custody but he’d have a favorable report given to Conguise and Jason.  He wouldn’t have to go back to the Producer Camps yet and that gave him more time to figure out a way out of this mess.  The only worry was if the prisoners talked.  Hopefully, Hugh’s Guards were more loyal than that.

CHAPTER 3:  JETHRO

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JETHRO HAD A HARD time not grinning as Cal wandered around the old camp.  The captain was not happy.  The discovery of the abandoned AC camp was a coup and Cal was going to have to report that Jethro had been the one to find it.

All three prisoners were kneeling in the center of camp with hands tied behind their backs.  They were adults, probably around thirty years old.  He was reasonably sure by their grim faces that they weren’t going to reveal any information about the AC, at least not easily.

Cal stopped in front of the prisoners.  “Where’s the location of your new camp?”

“Don’t know what camp you’re talking about,” said one of the Guards.

Cal slapped him across the face.  The Guard spit the blood from his mouth but other than that didn’t make a sound.

“What do they call you?”  Cal motioned and Brick yanked the Guard to his feet.

“Ranger,” said the Guard.

“Ranger, if you don’t know anything about the insurgent’s camp, explain what you’re doing here.”

“Me and my boys were hunting and we found this place.”

“Alone?  Let me see your papers.”  Cal’s voice was smug.  Everyone knew what happened to strays.

“We don’t have none, sir.”  Ranger’s brown eyes were brittle.  “Our dear master passed away a while ago.  Maybe, we could join your group.”  He glanced at his companions.  “We know this forest and we could use steady food.”

“Invite spies into my army?”  Cal laughed.

“Excuse me, Captain.  May I speak with you?”  Indy tipped his head toward the forest.

Cal let out a disgusted sigh but followed the Guard away from the prisoners and closer to where Jethro stood.

When they were far enough away that the AC Guards wouldn’t overhear, Indy said, “Let them join us.  When they sneak away, we’ll follow them to their new camp”—Indy glanced at the prisoners—“and if we’re wrong about them, we have a few more Guards.”

“Nonsense,” said Cal.  “We’re not wrong and I don’t allow traitors in my ranks.”  He strode back to the prisoners.  “Hold him tight.”

Brick tightened his grip on Ranger’s arms and Cal punched the prisoner in the stomach, again and again.

Indy wandered over to Jethro and leaned against a tree.  “Torture doesn’t work, but Captain Cal never learns that lesson.”

Jethro shrugged.  He didn’t like seeing the Guard beaten for no reason, but it probably wasn’t the worst beating he’d received.  None of the three looked like they’d had easy lives.  They were all thin and had scars on their faces and hands.

“This is what we do to liars,” said Cal as he hit Ranger one more time and then lowered his arms.  “Tell me where you moved your camp.”

“I told you.  We don’t know nothing about a camp,” said Ranger.

Cal motioned two other Guards over by the prisoners.  “Bring them and follow me.”

The Guards yanked the other prisoners to their feet and dragged them over to Cal who stood at the edge of the camp near an old log.

“Him.”  Cal pointed to one of the prisoners.  “Bend him over the log.”

Cal’s Guard glanced at the captain in confusion but forced the prisoner to kneel, the top half of his body resting on the log.

“Ranger, you have one more chance to answer my question.”  Cal pulled his sword from his sheath.

Ranger’s eyes stared at the blade as it glistened in the dying sun, and then his gaze moved to his friend.  The Guard on his knees trembled as he glanced up at Ranger and shook his head.

Ranger swallowed visibly and said, “Don’t do this.  I swear.  We don’t know nothing about a camp.”

“He won’t actually do it, will he?”  Jethro asked Indy.  Beating the Guards was one thing, but killing them served no purpose.  Dead Guards couldn’t talk and given time one of these three might tell what he knew for more food or freedom, even Cal had to understand that.  Of course, he’d have to figure out a way to free them before that happened.

Indy shook his head.  “No.  It’s a scare tactic...”

Cal’s blade flew through the air, severing the head of the kneeling Guard.  Silence fell over the camp, not even the birds chirped.  Indy’s knees buckled and he staggered backward away from the tree.  The air caught in Jethro’s lungs as his gaze locked on the blood as it spurted from the torso into the air, splashing onto the ground.  The body twitched and then stilled, but the blood still came.  The geyser slowed and finally stopped, leaving a small black river of life to dirt.

Cal wiped his blade on the back of the beheaded Guard before turning to face the two remaining prisoners.  Ranger’s face was pale and his eyes were locked on his dead friend.

“Next.”  Cal pointed to the Guard next to Ranger.

“No, don’t do this.  Please.”  The prisoner bucked and kicked, fighting to stay away from the log as Cal’s Guard dragged him forward.

“Someone help him.”  Cal directed another Guard to assist.  “Make him kneel.”

“Stop!  Enough!”  Jethro forced his eyes away from the decapitated Guard as he strode across the camp to Cal.  “Dead Guards are no use to us.”

“Get back,” said Cal.

“The Supreme Almighty isn’t going to be happy about this.”  He had to convince Cal that this wasn’t the way.

“I said make him kneel,” said Cal.

Another Guard came forward and the three forced the prisoner to his knees.

“Don’t do this, Captain.  We need them to talk but not this way.  Guards are used to punishment.  Show them kindness.  They’ll talk.”  He was rambling, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Where did you move the camp?”  Cal stared at Ranger.

Ranger’s eyes met his companion’s.

“Please, don’t do this,” begged the Guard who was on his knees.

Cal bent, peering into the Guard’s face.  “I won’t, if you tell me about your new camp.”

The prisoner shook his head.  “I can’t.  I swear, we don’t know.”

“Liar.”  Cal straightened and raised his sword.

This wasn’t going to happen.  Not again.  Jethro lunged, hitting Cal in the chest and knocking the sword from his hands.  They fell to the ground, dirt flying in the air.  He wanted to plant his fist in Cal’s face, something he’d yearned to do from the moment they’d met, but he refrained.  Instead, he pushed his forearm against Cal’s throat.

“There’s no need to kill anyone else.”  He put more weight onto his arm.  “Do you hear me?”

Hands pulled at his shoulders, but he wrapped his other arm around Cal keeping the captain tight against him.  “Call them off.”  He gave a quick, hard push to the captain’s larynx.  The captain nodded the best he could and Jethro loosened his hold a little so Cal could speak.

“Back off,” said Cal, his voice raspy.

The hands at Jethro’s back disappeared.  He continued to stare into Cal’s blue eyes, his weight pressed against the other man’s throat.  “Do we have a deal?”

Cal nodded, his eyes hard with hatred.  Jethro stood and extended his hand to Cal, but the other Almighty ignored him and scrambled to his feet.

“Seize him,” gasped Cal, his voice still weak.

He felt the Guards moving toward him before he saw them.  It was as if the very air surrounding him became a threat.  He spun around swinging and connected with flesh.  Fists pummeled his face and stomach, but the pain barely registered.  He lowered his head and rammed into the closest body, lifting the Guard into the air and tossing him over his shoulder.  Something slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground.  He pushed himself to his knees, hitting anything he could reach, but more bodies collided into his, knocking him back to the ground and smothering him with their weight.  He bucked trying to dislodge his opponents, but there were too many and within minutes he was trapped under a pile of Guards.  The weight shifted and they rolled him over, tying his hands behind his back.

“Bring him here.”  Cal’s voice rang with triumph.

He growled as the Guards lifted him to his feet and dragged him to Cal.  The captain was going to pay for this, maybe not now, but one day.

“You dare assault your commanding officer.”  Cal’s face was mottled with rage.  “You are finished.  Done!  You won’t even have your Producer Camps to fall back on if I have my way.”

He snarled at the other Almighty as he welcomed the rage that flowed through his veins.  This weak, sniveling coward was threatening him.  Him!  He didn’t need his hands to tear Cal’s limbs from his body.  He’d use his teeth.  He lurched forward, pulling the Guards several feet as he slammed his head into Cal’s gut and knocked the other Almighty to the ground.  He threw himself forward, prepared to finish his attack, but the Guards regained control, dragging him backward.  He roared, his blood screaming for him to kill his enemy.

Cal jumped to his feet, his face crimson with rage.  He grabbed his sword and strode toward Jethro.  The Guards tightened their hold as Cal rested his weapon against Jethro’s chest.  “Make sure he has a front row seat.”  He jabbed Jethro slightly and walked over to the prisoners.  The second AC Guard was sitting by the log instead of laying over it.

“No, please.  We don’t know nothing about any camp.  I swear,” pleaded the prisoner as Cal’s Guards positioned him over the log.

Jethro took a deep breath, calming his rage to an icy storm of hatred.  These words were going to kill him.  “Cal, I’m sorry.  Don’t do this.”  He wasn’t sorry but he’d beg for the Guards’ lives.  “If you stop, I’ll make sure Conguise and Jason pull me from this mission.”  It was a weak promise.  After attacking his commanding officer his days as a temporary soldier were over.  From the look Cal shot him, the other Almighty realized it too.

“This is what we do to traitors.”  Cal raised his sword.

There was a swish and a thud.  Ranger’s knees buckled and the Guards had to hold him up.

Jethro’s eyes never left Cal as Ranger was put into position and beheaded.  Cal would pay for this.  The Guards still held him tight.  If they’d only loosen their hold for a moment, he’d kill Cal with his arms tied behind his back.

CHAPTER 4:  HUGH

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HUGH STOOD NEAR HIS tent, listening to Jackson and trying not to look for Trinity.  Earlier, he’d wandered past the training grounds but she hadn’t been there.  A young, female House Servant had been taking the recruits through their drills.

“Food is scarce,” said Jackson.  “The forest has been over hunted.”

“I sent Tim to talk to Ray.  He came back late last night but he was exhausted.  I told him to get some sleep and we’d discuss Ray’s answer today.”  He strolled toward the mess tent.  He wasn’t hungry but maybe Trinity was in there.  He could ask her about training.  He picked up his pace.  That was a legitimate reason to talk to her.  He needed to find out why someone else was instructing the troops.

“What are we going to use to pay him?”  Jackson trailed after him.  “Ray’s not going to feed our army as a favor.”

“I don’t know,” he said.  The Guard had a point.  Ray helped them out occasionally and chalked it up to the war effort, but this would be asking too much.  However, right now he had other issues to deal with, like finding Trinity.  Soon, he’d be leaving and he needed to know she was happy here, or Araldo only knew what trouble she’d find.  “If Ray wants money, I’ll figure something out.”  He entered the mess tent, but she wasn’t there.  He grabbed a drink of water, so it wouldn’t look like he was looking for someone and then left the tent, Jackson still dogging his heals.

“You better hope he wants money.”  Jackson grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.  “Don’t be in Ray’s debt.  You already owe Meesus.”

“I understand the ramifications of owing Ray...and Meesus, but I don’t have a choice.  We have to feed the troops or they won’t stay.  This is war.  We have to worry about the crisis at hand.”  He smirked.  “On the bright side, we could lose or I might be dead before I have to pay anyone back.”  He glanced around.

“You can stop searching all over camp.  Trinity and Sue went into the forest to collect cakaonuts.”

“What are you talking about?  I wasn’t...”

Jackson stared at him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Is it that obvious?”  He had to do better at hiding his feelings.

“Yes.  At least to me.”  Jackson smiled a self-deprecating grin.  “Of course, I invented the look of unrequited...longing.  Although you may want to be careful around Tim, I’ve caught him watching you and Trinity when you’re together.”

“I’ve been trying to stay away from her.”

“Really? Is that why you sit with her every evening at dinner and the two of you talk long into the night after everyone else has gone to sleep.”

He needed to stop doing that.  Too many times, he’d come close to inviting her into his tent.  To talk.  Right.  Even he wasn’t fool enough to believe that.  “I’ve stopped going to training.”  Except for today.

“That, you should’ve kept doing.”

“Speaking of training, why is she gathering cakaonuts when she should be instructing our troops?”

“You’ll have to ask to her about that,” said Jackson.

“I’m asking you.”

Jackson shook his head.  “Too bad.”

“I’m your commanding officer.”  He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement.  They were friends, equals.

“And as far as war and battles, I’ll obey, but I’m not tattling on Trinity.”  Jackson grinned.  “She’ll kick my ass.”

“You know, you’re giving me another reason to talk to her.”  He really was trying to stay away from her.

“Like that matters.  You seek her out every chance you get.”

“I can’t help it.  We’ll be leaving soon.”  And he won’t be able to see her, to know she’s safe.  “She’s not going to be happy about staying here.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I worry about her.  If we’re all gone who’ll keep her safe?”

“Hugh, she’s capable of taking care of herself.  She really is well trained and she’s not stupid.”

“But she’s reckless.  I’m pretty sure she still sneaks off on her own.  She’s going to get into trouble one day.”

Jackson snorted.  “One day?  She finds trouble like—”

“That’s my point.”  He met the Guard’s eyes.  “Someday her luck is going to run out and we may not be around to help her.”

CHAPTER 5:  TRINITY

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AS TRINITY AND SUE dragged the bags of cakaonuts into camp, Trinity’s eyes darted to Hugh’s tent.  He was outside talking to Jackson.  Figures.  Today, she’d handed over the training to Leena and had been planning on attending Hugh’s meeting, but it looked like he wasn’t having one or she’d missed it.  He was hiding something from her.  He always held the meetings when she was otherwise occupied and whenever she asked about them his answers were vague.  She’d tried getting information from Jackson, her dad and even Curtis but none of them would tell her much about what was said inside Hugh’s tent.

She was furious about being left out.  This was as much her war as theirs and she was a valuable asset to the cause.  She didn’t understand why Hugh didn’t see that.  She’d thought he had when he’d put her in charge of training, but she was starting to think he’d manipulated her.  His gaze landed on her and he smiled as he started walking toward her.  Her breath caught.  The dark shadows of stubble covered his face and the afternoon sunlight made his black hair shine almost blue.  She wanted to feel the stubble against her cheek as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’ll take these to the mess tent.”  Sue nodded at Hugh as she headed across camp with her bags of nuts.

“Hey.”  Hugh took one of the bags of cakaonuts from Trinity.  “You guys got a lot.”

“There’s still more.  We should go back.”  She glanced down, unable to look at him.  It was always like this at first.  Her stomach would curl into knots and she’d forget what to say.  Then, he’d say something or smile and she’d relax and they’d talk for hours. She couldn’t imagine a day going by without seeing him.  She had no idea how she was going to stand it when he left to make the serum.

“I’ll talk to Sue.  She can take a team to get more before the animals eat them.”

“You should leave—”

“We won’t take them all.  The other creatures need to eat too.”  He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek.  “I remember what you taught me about the forest.”

She flushed as her eyes darted to his lips.  Her feet moved closer to him as if pulled by an invisible string.  His head lowered and...

“Ahem.”  Jackson cleared his throat.

Hugh straightened and moved back a step.

Jackson grabbed the remaining bags of cakaonuts.  “I’ll take these.”  His eyes darted between them.  “Hugh asked me why you weren’t training.”

She’d wanted to strangle Jackson for interrupting but now she wanted to stake him out for the Cold Creepers.

“Yeah.  That’s right.”  Hugh took another small step away from her.  “I went to see how everyone was progressing and there was a House Servant leading the maneuvers.”

She mouthed “traitor” to Jackson but he only grinned as he walked away.

“That’s Leena.  She’s helping out.”  Taking over was more accurate, but she didn’t want to discuss this with him.  She knew she was going to have to one day, but not now.  She headed for her tent.

“That’s great, I guess, but why?”  He followed her.  “Are they doing so poorly that you need help?”

“No.”  She hated admitting this but she wouldn’t lie, not to him.  “Some are doing great, others okay but...some of them won’t listen to me.  The Guards are better than the others.  The ones from the first rescue made sure the other Guards understand that I know what I’m doing, but the others...”  She stopped outside of her tent, staring at the ground.  She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes.  “The Producers are scared of me.  The Grunts are trying but they’ll never be able to navigate the forest quietly.”

“And the Servants.”  His voice was soft and close.

“They don’t like me.  I’m either too young, too female or not Servant enough.”

He touched her chin, raising her eyes to his.  “I’ll talk to them.”

“I handled it.”  She was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be happy about her method.

“How?”  There was trepidation in his voice.

“You don’t have to sound so scared.  I didn’t kill anyone.”

“That’s a relief.” He smiled.  “So what did you do?”

That smile was going to disappear fast.  “I studied the Servants, looking for the one with the most skill and the biggest mouth.  Luckily, it was the same female.  I fought her—”

“You did what?”

“I fought Leena.”  It made perfect sense to her, but by his face it didn’t to him.  “The other Servants were following her lead.  She grew up in the forest and she refused to listen to me.  She didn’t believe I knew more than she did about fighting and the forest, so I challenged her to a battle and I won.”  She was proud of that.  She’d won that fight in record time.  “Afterwards, I offered to fight anyone else who didn’t want to listen.”  She grinned.  “No one came forward.”

“Not exactly what I had planned when I asked you to train, but if it worked...Wait.  You said Leena was the one instructing the troops in your place.”

“She is.”  She slipped into her tent, half-hoping he wouldn’t follow.  She’d invited him inside before, late at night, and he’d always refused.

“She’s not upset about losing to you?”  He followed her.

She shouldn’t be surprised.  Nothing stopped Hugh when he was arguing with her.  She could probably change her clothes and he’d just keep talking.  She glanced at him and at the pile of clean laundry next to her bed.  With her luck, he’d turn and run and she didn’t think she could face him after that.  “She was angry at first, but I offered to teach her how not to lose again.”  She shrugged.  “Plus, I admitted that there were some things she knew that I didn’t.”

“What?  You admitted there are things you don’t know about the forest?”  His tone was teasing.

She made a face at him.  “Gaar and Mirra taught me everything from the viewpoint of a top predator.  Leena knows a few things about being prey and by admitting a weakness, I gave her back some pride after I kicked her butt.”  She straightened, daring him to chide her about the fight.

“How very mature of you.”  He studied her, his blue eyes warm.

“Yeah, well...”  It was the first time he’d called her mature.  She wasn’t going to tell him that it’d been Jackson’s idea.

“I’m glad you fixed the issue with the Servants but that still doesn’t explain why Leena is training the troops and not you.”  He took her hand, his fingers caressing her skin for a moment before he dropped his arm back to his side.  “This is war, Trinity.  You were assigned this task, not her.  Their lives depend on their training and they need the best.”

She focused on the wall of her tent, unable to meet his eyes.  This was embarrassing.

“Tell me what’s wrong.  I can help.  I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I’m not useless.”  There was a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I know that.”  She didn’t want him to think she still thought he was weak, but he’d given her one job and she’d failed.

“Prove it and give me a chance to help you.”  His words were a challenge.

He was always pushing her—pushing her to trust him, pushing her to train, pushing her to talk to the others, pushing her away—and she was tired of it.  “You can’t help me with this.  You already tried.  You can’t force them to like me.”  She stared at him, her eyes dry.  She’d cried enough over not fitting in.  She wouldn’t do it again.

“You’re different—”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“There isn’t a good way to be different.”  She waited for his argument, praying he’d find some way to help her feel better about this, but he remained silent and that hurt.  It really, really hurt.

After several moments, he said, “There is, but for some reason you can’t see it.”  His hand cupped her face.  “You’re not only different, you’re...extraordinary.”

“What?”  She hadn’t expected that.

He stepped closer.  “You’ve taken all the best qualities of the classes that fill your blood and none of the bad.  You’re kind and compassionate, loyal and hard-working like the Producers.  You’re fast, deadly and organized like the Servants and you can plan and orchestrate like Almightys.  You exceed at everything and yet you can’t see how special you are.”

His voice was low and earnest, but his eyes were intense, searching hers.  There were so many emotions she didn’t understand swirling around in his words, inside of her.  She leaned toward him, tipping up her face.

“You’re also beautiful.”  His thumb caressed her cheek and his words were barely a whisper.  “So, very beautiful.”

“Do you really think so?”  She shifted a little closer and his eyes fell to her lips.

“Yes.”  He leaned forward.

She opened her mouth a little, preparing for him, when a twig snapped outside her tent.  She turned toward the noise, hand on her knife.

“Shit.”  He stepped away from her, running his hand through his hair.

A shadow darted past her door.

“It’s just Say.”  She turned back to him, smiling.

“Oh.  Ah, that’s good.  I was wondering where he was.”  His eyes darted around the tent as if he were afraid to look at her.

She’d kill Say if she didn’t get this kiss.  She’d wanted Hugh to kiss her for a long time and this was the perfect opportunity.  They were alone and she couldn’t fight the joy she felt because he thought she was beautiful.  She glided up to him and tipped her head slightly.  “He’s been around like normal.”

“I think you intimidate everyone.  Maybe, if you tried a little harder to get to know them and let them get to know you, the real you—”

“What?”  Unbelievable.  Only he could go from complimenting her in the sweetest way to blaming her for the prejudice she dealt with on a daily basis.  Her claws extended and it took every ounce of control she had not to shove him.  “What do you think I’ve been doing these past five years?”  She snorted.  “No, make that my entire life.”  She was tired of this game he played with her.  This wasn’t the first time he’d almost kissed her.  She should ask him how he felt but she was afraid of his answer.  She didn’t think she could stand losing him as a friend.

“I think you’ve been hiding.”  He took her hand again, staring at it as his thumb carefully caressed her claws.  “You had to hide part of yourself while you were imprisoned in the camp, but you don’t anymore.”  He looked up at her.  “So stop.  Quit trying to fit in with the others.  It’ll never work.  They know you’re different.  They’ll accept it when you do.”

Her heart slammed against her chest.  He was wrong.  She had accepted who she was and the others still didn’t.  “Why am I surprised that you don’t get it.  You’re High Hugh Truent.  The perfect male.  The genius.”  She laughed.  The sound was harsh and cold.  “You fit in everywhere.  I fit in nowhere.”

“The point is I don’t try to fit in.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”  She glared at him.  He was so arrogant and yet the others all accepted him, liked him.  Part of her hated him for that.  No matter what she did, the others disliked and distrusted her.  “Do you know why I escaped?  Why this all happened?”

“I’ve heard rumors, but I’d like to hear the truth from you.”

“I left because I thought if I found out where we were taken the others would have to accept me.  I only wanted them to like me, to have some friends.”  She pulled her hand free and turned away from him, unwilling to see the censure in his eyes.  “Sometimes, I wish I had let them take me.  None of this would’ve happened.  I’d be dead but so many others would still be alive.”

“You’re not at fault for the war.  It would’ve happened eventually.  We just helped it along.”

“Right.”  She wasn’t buying that for a moment.

He touched her shoulder and when she refused to look at him, he stepped around to her front, taking her hand again. “Do you actually believe that everyone in the other classes was living happily until we came along?”  His eyes searched hers as his thumb skimmed over her skin.  “There are other mixes out there.  They certainly weren’t happy.”

“Happy?  No.  But they wouldn’t have started—”

“You give me too much credit.  You saw Townsend’s kids, his wife.  He was looking for a ship to sail when I came along.  Sure my reports and findings helped pushed some Almightys to the side of the Allied Classes but the discontent already existed.  The underground newspapers and recordings didn’t happen overnight.  They were waiting for something to turn the tide their way and that something happened to be us.”

It drove her crazy when he was right and so did his touch.  It was too fleeting, too little.  She knew he’d stop if she did anything, but she couldn’t help it.  She moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest.  “That doesn’t change the fact that some of this is my fault, and some is yours.”

He stiffened and then sighed softly as his hand moved to her head, burrowing in her long hair and holding her close.  “You’re right.  It’s your fault that those who were imprisoned now have freedom.  Take the blame for that and for giving them hope for a better life, if not for them then for their children.”

“We’re both to blame for that.”  Her cheek pressed against his chest.  She loved his smell—forest, male and Hugh.

“I’m not sure that’s true, but thank you.”  He kissed the top of her head before dropping his arms and moving away from her.

She dug her claws into her palms to stop herself from reaching for him.  He looked weary.  There was too much injustice in their world for a man like him and it killed her to see him unhappy.  “You’re too hard on yourself.  You kept your word to the Grunts and Producers even though you didn’t have the people to spare.”

“For the good it did.”

“The Grunts may come back with a lot of recruits, but it isn’t your fault that the Producers are too stupid to believe they’ll be slaughtered and eaten.”  She couldn’t resist touching his face, her hand caressing the stubble on his cheek.  “You’re a good male, Hugh Truent.  Kind and loyal and honest.”  She leaned toward him.  She didn’t mean to but her eyes locked with his and her body responded as her gaze darted to his mouth.

“I’m not a hero, Trinity.  I’m only a man.”  His hands grabbed her face, tipping it upward as his head lowered.

“Alarm,” she whispered, not thinking just reacting to the sound.  Her head snapped back and her ears perked.  “Someone’s coming.”  She grabbed his hand and raced for the door.

CHAPTER 6:  HUGH

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HUGH STOOD WITH TRINITY outside her tent as people raced in every direction, most darting into the forest.  He squeezed her hand as he watched her for any sign of who was coming, helpless to do anything but wait.

The tension in her face eased and the others trickled back into camp from the forest.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Some of our guys.”  She stared into the brush, her ears tipped forward, listening for any sound.

Jackson strode over to them, shaking his head as his gaze fell on their clasped hands.  Hugh let go and stepped away.  If the alarm hadn’t sounded, he’d still be in her tent and they’d be kissing.  He should’ve never followed her inside, but he’d been so focused on their conversation that he hadn’t thought.  It couldn’t happen again.

“I hope it’s Bo,” said Jackson.  “And I hope he has good news.”

Bo and three other Guards had left a few days ago to find Ranger and his team who’d been assigned to locate where the Protective Services had set up camp.  They should’ve reported back over a week ago.

The only good news would be if Ranger’s squad had been delayed for some reason.  The worst scenario would be if the Guards had been captured, but even if Bo’s news was only that he hadn’t been able to locate them, they’d have to move camp again and he wasn’t sure how they’d do that without the help of the Trackers.

Moving this many Guards, Servants, Grunts and Producers and not leaving a trail even an Almighty could follow wasn’t easy.  The last time, they’d taken many by river but some had traveled through the forest and the Trackers had covered their scent.  He’d probably have to ask Gaar to bring the Trackers back to camp, but without the serum, that was tricky.  The Trackers were wild and getting wilder every day.  As it was, he was pretty sure they’d killed a few of the Guards and Servants during the previous move.  Their story had been that the missing Guards and Servants must’ve fled.  It was possible, but they’d had nowhere else to go and the Trackers had been a little too comfortable hanging around camp.  They’d been in no rush to run off and hunt.

Bo and his team emerged from the forest.  Their faces were grim and their clothes filthy.  Bo said something to his Guards and the three veered off toward the mess tent.  He nodded at them and walked directly into Hugh’s tent.

“This can’t be good,” said Jackson.

Tim ran over to them.  “How bad?”

“We don’t know yet.”  He headed across camp.  “How did it go with Ray?”

“He’s agreed to help.”  Tim handed Hugh a package.

“What’s this?  Ray’s demands?”  If the Servant had to write them down...

“No.  It’s from Barney.”

He opened the package.  There were two envelopes and a hairbrush.

“Barney went to see your sister,” said Tim.

The old fool was going to get himself caught.  “I told him not—”

“You know us Servants don’t take orders well.”  Tim slapped him on the back but his eyes grew grave.  “As soon as you have a lab, we’ll know for sure who’s related to Sarah.”

“What do I owe Ray?”  He’d already resigned himself to the fact that he was an orphan, so he didn’t expect any surprises when he ran the DNA.

“He said he’d let you know later.”  Tim’s eyes met his.

“Great.  That’s great,” mumbled Jackson.

He agreed, but right now, he had to worry about the immediate problem and that was Ranger and his missing team.  He ducked inside his tent, the others right behind him.

Bo stood by the table, a glass of whiskey in his hand.  “We found them.”  He tossed back the shot.

“And.”  He was pretty sure he knew the answer.  Bo wasn’t in the habit of drinking.

“All dead.  Beheaded.”  Bo poured himself another drink.

The air seemed to rush from the tent as everyone froze—not a sound, not a breath.

“Their heads were on spikes, their bodies lying nearby.”  Bo tossed back the second shot.  “Torn apart by predators.  Shit, I hope that’d been done after they were dead.”  He reached in his pocket and handed three pieces of papers to Hugh.  “These were in their mouths.”

He unfolded the notes.  Tim edged closer so he could read over Hugh’s shoulder.

“What do they say?” asked Jackson.

“They’re all the same.”  He dropped the papers on the table. “They say if everyone surrenders, only I’ll be charged.  Otherwise, you’ll die like these Guards.”

“They’re lying,”  Tim’s face was pale as he grabbed the bottle and took a drink.

“Maybe not,” he said.  “They probably won’t kill the Servants, Guards and Grunts.  Not right away.  The Grunts will be returned to their owners.”  The word was bitter on his lips.  No one should have the right to own another living creature.  “The Servants and Guards will go into the shelters and die the normal way.”

“We still die,” said Bo.  “So, I say we fight.”

He leaned on the table, shifting the papers in circles.  Three Guards, who’d been under his command, had been killed when they should’ve been captured and taken prisoner.  If this were the kind of war Jason wanted, he’d play.  He’d been taught all strategies by the General.  He tipped his head, cracking his neck from side-to-side.  He’d rather fight with honor—capture prisons and free them when it was over—and he might later, but right now, he had to send a message and it had to be brutal.  He grabbed the bottle from Tim and took a swig.

“We now know where the Almightys are,” said Trinity.  “Or at least where they were.”

His eyes flew to her.  She sat on his cot.  He hadn’t even realized she’d followed them into his tent.  He should’ve known.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

Her eyes widened with hurt.  He didn’t care.  She couldn’t be involved in this.  War was ugly and dirty.  She was too good for that, too good for him, because Jason and his soldiers were going to force him to become ugly and dirty.

“She’s right,” said Jackson.

“You’re not helping.”  He took another drink.

Bo unrolled their map, covering the notes.  “The Almightys are in this area.”  He tapped a spot on the paper.

“We need to know how many there are before we can make a plan,” he said.

“By the tracks in the area, I’d say about fifty or so,” said Bo.

“Fifty trained soldiers.”  He glanced at Jackson.  “That’ll be hard to fight.  We’ve got more people but they aren’t as well trained.”

“Ranger and his team were here.”  Bo pointed at the map again.  “At the old camp.  We surveyed the nearby area.  The Almightys’ army was traveling in this direction.”  His finger skimmed along the drawing.  “Me and Pab followed their trail from the old camp to here.  Then the winds shifted and we didn’t want to get any closer.”

“Good job.  You were right to stop.”  He slapped the Guard on the shoulder.  Bo’s diligence to his task and his intelligence impressed him more and more every day.  Most Guards would’ve run after finding the bodies.  He prayed the other Guards in the Protective Services weren’t as well trained as Bo.

Bo pointed to the old camp again and his finger trailed along the paper in the opposite direction.  “I sent Mo and Brianna the other way.  They tracked the Almightys’ Guards back to their basecamp here.”

“That’s not too far from the Remore Producer Camp,” said Jackson.

“What?”  He stared at the map again as the Guard ran his finger across the paper.

“Through the woods, it’d only take a few hours,” said Jackson.

“We need to let everyone know.”  He stared at Trinity over his shoulder.  “No one should be going near that area for any reason.”  He’d had reports that Travis was still sneaking over to see his brother.  That had to stop.  He turned back toward the map.  “Maybe, if we lured the Almightys’ soldiers here.”  He grabbed a pencil off the table and tapped a valley on the map.  “With the river on one side and Harbor Point the other...”

“Won’t work.”  Trinity moved to the table, pushing her father aside a little and exposing one claw as she pointed at the mouth of the valley.  “That’s Stocker territory.”

“Stockers have a territory?” he asked.

“Yep, and they don’t like...well, anyone.  They set up camp here a few years ago.  Best to avoid that area,” she said.

“Okay.”  He continued studying the map.

She leaned forward, her shoulder brushing his arm.  He could smell her hair.  It was like fresh air and sunshine.  If he were ever locked up again he’d remember her scent.  It’d remind him of her and the forest and the short moment in time when they’d been together.  She must’ve moved for her breath caressed his cheek.  He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.  Not as a prelude to sex but as a connection of lips and friendship.  He’d never wanted to hold and kiss someone, cherish them, like he did her and it was like a dunk in the icy river as his heart stuttered.  He was falling in love with her.  He was probably already there.

“Who drew this?  You’re missing a lot of stuff on this map,” she said.

He blinked, focusing on the present.  Jackson was watching him, a pitying look on his face.  He shifted to the left.  He needed to get away from her, stay away from her.

“I did,” said Tim.  “Jackson helped.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me?”  Her tone was incredulous.

“Ah...well...you were busy.”  Tim’s eyes darted to Hugh.

She was hurt and she had a right to be.  She knew the forest better than any of them, but he hadn’t wanted her involved.  It was already going to be difficult to convince her to stay at base camp and train the recruits.  If she started coming to these meetings and helping it’d be impossible.  Plus, word would get out about her involvement.  The authorities already wanted her captured and the more important she was to the Allied Classes the more danger she’d be in and he couldn’t have that.  “I was going to have Gaar look it over as soon as he got back.”

“He may not come back for weeks.”  She shot him a disgusted look.  “You can’t make plans using this map.”  She pointed to a section of the forest not far from where the Almightys’ soldiers had been.  “You do not ever”—she looked around—“ever want to go here.”  She grabbed the pencil from Hugh’s hand.  “This is one of the River-Men’s swamps.”  Her eyes locked with his.  “You remember the swamp, don’t you?  This one’s smaller but no less dangerous.”  She leaned over.  “And here, here and here, are places where the Brush-Men live.  They travel, but most stay in these areas or areas like it.  It’s hard to tell them apart from the weeds and small trees that grow around there.  Again, not somewhere you want to go if you can avoid it.”  She continued marking up the map for several minutes.  “Here’s where the giant Slugmugs live, or used to live.  I haven’t seen any lately but you have to be very careful in their territories.  If you get caught in their tracks, you can die.”  She circled another section.  “The Cold Creepers tend to congregate here.  They wander, of course, but at certain times of the year, you can find a lot of them in here.”  She circled another couple of sections.  “The terrain is dangerous in these areas.”

“How?” asked Jackson.

She shrugged.  “It differs.  This area is very rocky and unstable.  This area has pockets of earth that are loose and you can fall into holes and get trapped.”

“Shit.”  Hugh pulled out a chair and sat, as she continued talking and marking his map.  The forest was a more dangerous place than he’d imagined.  “I don’t even know what these creatures look like.  I’ve never seen any except the River-Men and a few dead Cold Creepers.”

“You have pictures, don’t you Trinity?” asked Sue.

He glanced over at the Guard.  He hadn’t realized she’d entered the tent.  She’d always been reserved but the death of Laddie had made her even more quiet and introverted.  “Sue, glad you could join us.”  That got him a glare from Trinity, but he ignored her.  “What pictures?”

Trinity looked anywhere but at him.  “I draw sometimes.  When I’m out in the forest and don’t feel like making spears or if I already have enough spears, although Gaar says you can never have enough.”  She glanced at him, a blush rising on her cheeks.  “Sorry.  I was rambling.”

He loved when she got nervous and chattered.  “You’ve drawn these other creatures?”

She nodded.

“Can I see them?”  It was obvious she didn’t want to show her drawings.  They probably weren’t very good, but she could describe the creatures and their means of attack.  He had to know what the professor had set loose on them.

CHAPTER 7:  TRINITY

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TRINITY WASN’T COMFORTABLE SHOWING anyone her drawings.  She’d gotten more skilled over the years, but she wasn’t an expert.  She should’ve never mentioned it to Sue but she’d thought it’d make the old Guard laugh.  Ever since Laddie’s passing, Sue had grown quieter, as if sadness lingered in her shadow.  Even seeing Hugh again hadn’t snapped the Guard from her depression.

“I need to see them, Trinity,” prodded Hugh.

She was mad at him for not asking for her help with the map, but she trusted him.  He wouldn’t make fun of her art.  “Okay.  They’re in my tent.”  She took a step toward the door.  “Come on, and I’ll show them to you.”

“Why don’t you bring them here,” said Dad, watching her and Hugh.  “That way we can all see them.”

She wasn’t ready to show them to everyone, but she wasn’t sure how to get out of it.  “Ah...they’re...I did them a long time ago and I wasn’t very good.”

“They’re good enough for Hugh to see but not your father?”  Dad shot a glare at Hugh, who quickly looked at the map.

“No.  That’s not it.  I’ll show you.”  She glanced at Jackson and Bo.

“You don’t want me to see them?”  Jackson’s tone was hurt.

She took a deep breath.  This was going from bad to worse.  “No.  It’s fine, just don’t laugh.”  She turned to leave and froze.  “Warning call.”

She and the others all pushed out of the tent.  Two calls in one night weren’t good.  Everyone was scared and huddling in the forest again.  Hugh’s eyes were on her, watching for her reaction.  It was so much more dangerous for him out here than the rest of them.  Delegating training to Leena was a good idea.  It’d give her more time to work with him and keep him safe.  Another call came and she touched his arm.  “Friend.”

“Get your drawings and meet us back in my tent.”  His hand skimmed over hers.

She turned and headed across the clearing.  She didn’t understand him.  One moment he was touching her—just little brushes of his hand—and the next he was staying as far away from her as he could.  She knew deep down that he’d never play a joke on her like Randy had done or pretend to like her like Jethro, but she couldn’t completely squash the fear that she was once again falling for someone who didn’t care for her.

She pushed into her tent and grabbed her backpack but her notebook wasn’t there.  She’d been in camp too long.  Everything was unpacked.  She dug under her cot and tossed aside two old sketch pads.  Ray had found her drawing one day and had given her some advice and some spare notebooks.  He drew sometimes and suggested that she use sketch pads to work on the parts of a creature or image before putting it all together.  For years, she filled books with arms, hands, legs, leaves, petals and twigs before putting the items together into images and scenes.  It’d worked.  She’d become a much better artist, paying attention to the smallest detail.

She found her original notebook, the one she’d gotten from Jethro, under her pillow.  This was the one filled with all her drawings of completed creatures.  She flipped through a few pages.  Her early efforts weren’t good, but unfortunately, she’d only redrawn some of the creatures.  She glanced toward the door.  If she did a few quick sketches of the predators, she could skip the bad drawings, but her notebook was already almost full and she didn’t want to waste the paper.  She had other things to draw, like Hugh.  She turned to the last few pages and studied her latest work.  It was an image of Hugh lying under a tree and smirking up at her.  She loved that smile.  It was like he had a secret joke and she wanted nothing more than to have him whisper it into her ear.  She went through the book, crinkling the corners of the pages with the predators.  She didn’t need her dad seeing her drawings of Hugh.  He was already suspicious of the two of them.  She tucked the book under her arm and left her tent.

She stopped, sniffing.  Meesus was here.  That meant Hugh was leaving.  She ran across the camp, pushing past a group of Meesus’ girls, who were flirting with some of the male soldiers, and skidding to a halt outside Hugh’s tent.  Several large, male Servants guarded the door.  Her hands trembled slightly.  Hugh was in there with Meesus.  The rational part of her knew she could tell Hugh goodbye later, but another side—a side she didn’t understand—screamed for her to get inside that tent now even if it meant having to beat up the Servants blocking her way.  She took in her opponents and almost sighed as her gaze landed on The Victor.

“Let her through,” said The Victor as he stepped away from the opening.

She nodded her thanks and slipped into the tent.  Meesus was talking to Hugh. They were standing by the table, alone.

“Where did everyone go?”  There was no reason for the two of them to be alone in his tent.  Well, there was one reason and that had better not be it.

“Trinity, so good to see you.”  Meesus turned toward her a slight smile on her perfect lips.

She nodded but couldn’t bring herself to say the same.  Her gaze was locked with Hugh’s.  “Are you leaving?”  She was glad her voice didn’t crack.

“No.  Not yet.”  His face was impassive.

“Then why is she here?”  It wasn’t nice or polite but she couldn’t help herself.

Meesus studied her, amusement in the older female’s eyes as she ran her hand down Hugh’s arm to a brown, paper sack on the table, tapping the bag with one long claw.  The package was box shaped and about the size of a loaf of bread.  “I brought him a gift.”

“She found some serum.”  He shifted away from Meesus but she moved closer, her eyes never leaving Trinity.

“Where did you find it?  Ray’s been looking for months.”

“Ray does not always know where to look.”  Meesus placed her hand on Hugh’s chest and scraped gently with her claws.  “Or who to ask.”

“You knew we needed it.”  She was going to yank the other female’s claws out if she didn’t quit hanging all over him.

“We have it now.  Let’s leave it at that,” said Hugh.

“No.  I won’t leave it at that.  Do you know how hard it’s going to be to get the Trackers to take this now?”  She moved closer to Meesus, her claws peeking from her fingertips.

“Let it go, Trinity.”  He stepped away from Meesus, frowning at both of them.  “Meesus didn’t have to get this for us at all.”

“Then why did she?  She knew we needed this before and didn’t bother to help us.”  She glared at the other female.  “So why now?”

“After my night with Hugh,”—Meesus eyes trailed up and down his body—“I was more eager to assist.  He and I have a special relationship.”

It was like a punch in the gut.  He’d been with Meesus too.  How many Servants had he mated with that night?  Meesus glanced at Trinity, a smirk on her petite face.

This was a game to the other female but she was done playing.  Hugh was worse than Servants.  He’d never be faithful to one mate.  She retracted her claws.  “Thank you, Meesus.  You’ve cleared up a lot of...decisions for me.”  She shoved her notebook against Hugh’s chest.  “Read it.  Laugh at it.  I don’t care.  Just leave it in my tent when you’re done.”  She opened the package and grabbed the box of serum.  “I’m taking this to Gaar.”  She glared at him and Meesus, unable to keep the sneer from her lips.  “Enjoy your evening.”

She turned and headed for her tent, forcing herself not to run.  She was going to get her things and leave.  She needed the forest.  She needed her friends.  She did not need or want Hugh.

CHAPTER 8:  HUGH

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THAT WENT PERFECT.  HUGH strode toward the door, but Meesus stepped in his way.

“I will talk to her,” she said.

“I think you’ve said enough.”  He moved around her and out the door, bumping into The Victor.  “Get out of my way.”  He shoved past, a little surprised that the giant of a Servant didn’t stop him.

“She needs a female to talk to.”  Meesus grabbed his arm.  “Not you.”

“Too bad.”  He jerked free from her hold.  “She wouldn’t need anyone to talk to if you hadn’t—”

“Told her the truth.”  Meesus tipped her head.

“She didn’t have to learn about it that way.”  This was a disaster.  That night with Meesus had been pleasant, but it’d meant nothing—a business deal for both of them.  Although, he needed to keep his distance from Trinity, this wasn’t the way.  She was too hot-tempered.  There was no telling what trouble she’d find if she left in a huff.

“It is better she knows.”  Meesus patted his cheek.  “Don’t worry.  I will talk to her as a friend.”  She winked.  “Not a competitor.”

“No.”  He moved past another large House Servant.  “I have to explain—”

“What are you going to explain?”  Sue blocked his path.  “Do you even know how you feel?”

“Exactly,” said Meesus as she glided past him.

He reached for the Servant, but Sue caught his arm.

“Don’t hurt her, Meesus,” said Sue.

Meesus turned and studied the older Guard.  “I see the Little One has a new friend.  Such steadfast and loyal friends she gathers.”  Her lips curved in a half smile.  “As far as gifts go, it is a good one to have.  I shall talk to her female-to-female as a friend.  There are things she must understand.”

“There is nothing you need to teach her.”  There was no way he was letting Meesus talk to Trinity alone.

Meesus laughed, a tinkling sound that caused many males turned in her direction.  She sauntered back to him.  “So jealous.”  She patted his face again.  “Fear not, Hugh Truent.  She shall be as innocent when I leave as she is now.  I will not cheat you of your tutelage.”

“What?  No.  It’s not like that.  I don’t...I won’t...”

“We need to talk.”  Sue tugged on his arm, pulling him toward his tent.

“I’m not letting her talk to Trinity alone.”

“She’ll be fine.”  Sue shoved him into his tent.  “I’ve known Meesus for a while now.  She likes to tease but she looks out for the innocent girls.  A conversation with Meesus will be good for Trinity.  Plus, I gave you your chance to be alone with her and you blew it.”

“I didn’t blow anything.”  But he almost had.  He’d come way too close to kissing her in her tent.  If the alarm hadn’t sounded...

“You need to make a decision.”  Sue sat at the table.  “You’re hurting her.”

“I’d never hurt her.”  He’d die first.

“But you are.  I’ve watched you follow her around, if not with your body than with your eyes and when you’re near her, you can’t seem to stop touching her.”

“I don’t—”

“You do.  You touch her all the time in little ways—a bump of the knee, a squeeze on the hand.  Admit it.  You’re in love with her.”

He dropped onto the chair across from her.  He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious.

“You need to either tell her how you feel or leave her alone.  You’re sending her mixed signals and that’s not fair to her.”

“I try to stay away from her, but I can’t.”

“Then tell her how you feel.”

“It’s not safe.  Jackson—”

“Is an idiot.  Don’t take his advice on relationships.  He ruined the best one he’s ever going to have.”

“I don’t know what to do.”  He felt like a teenage fool, but he couldn’t stop himself.  Jackson was probably the only one who understood.  “I need her to be safe and—”

“Stop it.  None of us are ever safe.  We all die.”  Her eyes filled with tears.

He took her hand.  Sue and the others from her camp had arrived while he’d been busy shuttling everyone to this location.  Laddie hadn’t made the journey.  He’d died while Hugh had been freeing the Guards at the Midtown Shelter the second time.  Sue had been at Laddie’s side until the end.

“Life is short.”  She wiped her eyes.  “I know that better than anyone.  Don’t waste the little time you have.”

“I know but...”  He stood and began to pace.  “I’m not any good for women.  I’ve proven that.”

“We’ve talked about this.  Viola’s death was not your fault.”

“Whose fault was it?”  He stopped pacing.  “She switched places with Trinity because she wanted to prove she was loyal to me.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “You know what the worst part is?”  This tore at his insides day and night.  “Araldo help me, but I’m glad that...that it wasn’t Trinity.”

Sue remained quiet, watching him.  Was that judgement in her eyes?  Shock?  It should be.  He was a monster.

“What’s wrong with me?  I cared for Viola and I’m sorry she’s dead but if she hadn’t switched places it would’ve been Trinity and I can’t...”  He dropped back onto the chair and put his head in his hands.  He didn’t deserve happiness, not even for a moment.

There was silence for a long time then Sue stood.  She walked across the tent.  He refused to watch her leave.  He didn’t blame her.  He was a horrible person.  He should want Viola alive and he did but not at the cost of Trinity’s life.

Sue came back to the table and sat.  She slid something toward him.  “Take the drink.”

He looked up.  A glass with an inch of whiskey sat in front of him.  Sue held another glass in her hand and a bottle sat on the table next to her.

She raised her glass.  “To Viola.”  She tossed back the drink.

He nodded and slammed the shot, relishing the burn in his throat.  He refilled their glasses.  “To Laddie.”

“You better add a little more.”  She smiled sadly.  “Laddie loved his liquor.”

He doubled the amount and they both drank.

She poured another splash into each glass.  “To being alive.”  She tossed back her shot.

He stared at this one, not sure if that was a worthy toast.

“Drink it, Hugh.  You’re alive.  Viola’s not.  You didn’t kill her and you didn’t want her to die.”  She leaned forward.  “It...is...not...your...fault.  Understand?”

He met Sue’s brown eyes.  “But if I’d trusted her...”

“Things might’ve ended differently, but they didn’t.”

“Trinity might be dead.”  His words were a whisper as he stared at the liquor.

“Viola was a kind and loving female.  She wouldn’t blame you or Trinity for what happened to her.”  She nudged his drink.

“I blame myself.”  He picked up the glass and stared at the golden brown liquor.  He couldn’t celebrate his life when Viola was dead.

“She wouldn’t want you to stop living because of her.  She’d want you to be happy.  She loved you.”

There was the crux.  He’d loved her too, or had he?  If he’d truly loved her he would’ve trusted her.  If he loved her, he should still be devastated that she was dead, but he wasn’t.  He’d mourned and moved on.  If something happened to Trinity, he wasn’t sure he could go on living.  He couldn’t take that chance and Sue shouldn’t be telling him to.  “Is that what Laddie would want too?”  It wasn’t nice but Sue was living a half-life filled only with sadness.  She had no room to lecture him.

Her eyes widened for a second and then narrowed.  He tensed for the reprimand, but nothing came.  He should’ve known better.  Sue was always kind and reserved.

“Yes, and I will.  If I have the opportunity to love someone again, I’ll jump at the chance.”  She poured a little more whiskey in her glass and took a sip.  “But Laddie died a short time ago.  I still need to mourn him.  Viola died almost five years ago.”

“So you’re saying I should be done mourning?”  He almost snarled.

“Not at all.  Everyone grieves in their own time, but you aren’t grieving.”  She tipped her head studying him.  “You’re done with that.  Now, you’re hiding from life.  From taking a chance.  From being hurt.  You’re alive and so is Trinity.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”  If something happened to her right now, he’d be devastated, but if she was his in all ways and something happened to her, he’d be destroyed.

Sue smiled.  It was sad and reflective.  “You’re doing that now and you’ll do it many times if the two of you are lucky enough to be together for a long time.”

“I don’t mean little hurts.”  He stood and began to pace again.  “I mean, what if...I only think I love her.  I thought I loved Viola.  I would’ve sworn I did but if that’s the case how can I feel like this for Trinity?”

“It’s been years, Hugh.  You’ve mourned.  It’s time to let her go.  Let her rest.”

“I feel like I’m betraying her.”  He sat back down.

“Don’t.  Maybe, Trinity is the one you were meant to be with, not Viola.”

His eyes met Sue’s.  “If that’s true, fate’s a bitch.”  He glanced at the door.  “Do you think they’re done talking?”

She shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter.  I’m not letting you leave until you decide what you want.”

“Like you can stop me.”  He gave her a half-smile but didn’t move.

“Let me help you.”  Sue leaned forward, her eyes sparkling but not with humor.  “If Trinity died—”

“Don’t say that.”  Those words were banned, stricken from the language.

She ignored him.  “If she died, wouldn’t you have wanted her to know how you felt?  You know she likes you.  You know she doesn’t understand her own worth.  Wouldn’t you want her to know that you found her special?”

“She is special.  Everyone knows that.”

“She doesn’t.”  Her words were barely a whisper but they were like a slap in his face.

Trinity didn’t understand how extraordinary she was and he wasn’t helping by confusing her.  He stood.

“Where are you going?”  Sue’s tone was smug.

“To escort Trinity to find Gaar.”  Sue opened her mouth but he continued, stopping her comment.  “And while we’re traveling”—alone in the woods—“I’ll tell her how I feel.”  He glanced over his shoulder at his friend as he strode to the door.  “Thanks, Sue.”

“Anytime you need some sense knocked into you, I’m here.”  She refilled her glass.

He laughed.  “Wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine,”—she hesitated a moment—“as long as Meesus hasn’t told her the details about your night together.”

The blood drained from his face as he quickened his pace.

CHAPTER 9:  TRINITY

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TRINITY SNATCHED HER BACKPACK from the corner of her tent and stuffed the box of serum inside it.  She grabbed the clean clothes from her bed and added them to the sack.  If she’d taken the time to repack like Gaar had taught her, she could’ve been gone already.  She knew Hugh would be coming and she didn’t want to talk to him.  She dug around for her blanket.  The nights were cold.  She’d need that.  Meesus strolled into the tent, a smug smile playing about her lips.

“What do you want?”  She’d never liked Meesus but now she despised her and there was no way she was leaving so the other female could snoop around her tent.

“So touchy.”  Meesus sat on the bed, dropping her purse next to her.  “I was only playing with you.  No need to be angry.”  She looked Trinity up and down, her eyes betraying no emotion.  “We are not competitors.”

“Of course, we aren’t.”  They couldn’t compete over Hugh when she didn’t want him.  “There is nothing you have that I want and nothing you want that I want.”  She was so flustered she was rambling.

Meesus laughed and she glared at the older female as she found her blanket, rolled in a ball on her floor, and shoved it into her backpack.

“Oh, my dear.  So, young.”  Meesus’ smiled died.  “That is why I am here.”  She patted the bed next to her.  “Sit.  We need to talk.”

“I can’t.  I have to take the serum to Gaar.”  She had nothing to say to this female, but she did need to get water, food and another set of clothes.

“Suit yourself.”  Meesus shrugged.

She filled a water bottle and dropped it into her backpack.  She grabbed an extra bottle and hesitated.  This was the first time Meesus had ever sought her out to talk.  She shoved the bottle into her sack.  Her curiosity was going to get her into trouble one day.  “I guess you can talk while I finish packing.”  She sent the older female a glare.  “If you insist.”

“So angry and so defiant.”  Meesus tipped her head, studying Trinity.  “I can see why the males like you.”

“They don’t.”  At least not the ones she liked.  No, they mated with females like Meesus.

“Ah, but they do.”  Meesus walked over to her and touched her cheek.  “Your father and Ray are worried that you underestimate males and overestimate your abilities.”

“They’re wrong.  I never overestimate my abilities.”  She emptied the cakaonuts from a container on the table near the door into her backpack.  “They refuse to believe that I can take care of myself.”

“Males often do.”  Meesus’ green eyes grew brittle.  “Instead, they react, doing what they think is best for us, when in truth it is the least best thing.”  She blinked, her eyes growing sultry again.  “But, that is why I am here with you.  I need to prepare you...”

Hugh strode into the tent, bumping into Trinity.  “Oh, sorry.”  He grabbed her to steady her, his hands lingering on her arms for a moment before he stepped away, his eyes darting between the two females.

“I need to speak with Trinity.”  Meesus stared at him, unblinking.  “Alone.”

“I think it’d be better if I stayed.”  He moved farther into the tent.

“This is female business, and you are not a female,” said Meesus.

Trinity’s curiosity was clamoring.  Hugh definitely didn’t want Meesus to talk to her.  “It’s fine, Hugh.  You can go.”

“We need to take the serum to Gaar.”

“We?  Since when are you going?”

“You aren’t going alone.”  His voice was firm, commanding.

“You’re not my boss.”  Somehow, she’d forgotten how annoying he could be.  A few minutes ago he was flirting with Meesus and now he wanted to tag along with her.  Well, she didn’t need or want his company.

“We’ve been over this.  You asked me to lead.  I’m leading.  You need to obey.”

Meesus snickered and tried to cover it in a cough when they both turned and glared at her.

“Fine.  You’re the boss.  I’ll take Leena.”

“She needs to train the recruits unless you’re going to stay and do the job you were assigned.”

She wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face.  “Jackson then.”

“No.  Me.”  He stepped closer to her.  “I’m going with you.”

She stood on tip-toe to get right in his face.  “You’ll slow me down.”

“Too bad.  I’m the boss, remember.”

She counted to ten, trying to control her temper.  He wouldn’t slow her down that much.  Gaar probably wasn’t too far away.  The Handler didn’t like hanging out in camp—too much potential food walking around—but he stayed nearby.  “Why?  You have other things to do here.”  Her eyes darted to Meesus.  “Especially, now.”

“I...there is nothing between...”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “I’m done arguing with you about this.”  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the tent posts.

“Where’s your backpack?  And my notebook.”

“I...ah...I’ll be right back.”  He frowned.  “Don’t you dare leave without me.”  His eyes met Meesus’ and seemed to send a warning.

“Don’t come back in here.  You can wait on the log over there, so you can’t overhear us.”  She yelled at his back.  “Although, I shouldn’t worry about that.  You are an Almighty.”

She let the tent flap fall back into place as her emotions raged.  One part of her wanted to claw Meesus’ smug smile from her beautiful face, but the other part wanted to irritate Hugh and he wasn’t happy about leaving her alone with Meesus.  In the end, her desire to annoy Hugh and her curiosity overrode her distaste for the older female.  She took a deep breath as she turned around and continued packing her backpack.  “So, what did you want to tell me?”

CHAPTER 10:  HUGH

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HUGH DIDN’T LIKE LEAVING Trinity alone with Meesus. The other female had been spiteful in his tent.  There’d been no reason to tell Trinity that they’d had sex.  He’d kind of hoped Meesus wouldn’t talk about that to anyone.  If Barney’s mate were right and Ray still loved Meesus, he didn’t need their one-time fling becoming common knowledge.  He brushed past Sue and Jackson who stood arguing near his tent.

“Great,” he mumbled as they both followed him inside.

“Hugh, I should go with Trinity.”  Jackson shot Sue a dirty look.

He folded up the map.  “I need to see some of the dangerous areas in the forest and I need to meet with the Stockers.”  Plus, he wanted to talk to Trinity.  Sue was right.  Life was short and he needed to tell her how he felt.

“No one ever needs to meet with Stockers,” said Jackson.

“We could use them in our army.”  He slipped the map into his backpack.

“They won’t join.  They’re stubborn, bad tempered creatures and you’ll be lucky to make it out of there alive,” said Jackson.

“I hate to agree with him”—Sue shot the other Guard a disgusted look—“but you should stay away from the Stockers’ Village.  Jackson is a fool when it comes to females, but he’s right about this.”

“Telling Trinity how he feels isn’t going to help anyone.  Not her and not him.”  Jackson was almost snarling at Sue.

“You think he should take your advice on relationships?  You destroyed the best thing you ever had.”  Sue’s lips twitched, showing her fangs.

“Stop it, both of you.”  He stepped between them.

“Sorry, but Jackson is wrong.”  Sue lowered her eyes.

Jackson took a deep breath, bringing himself under control.  “I understand why you think that, Sue, especially with losing Laddie, but it isn’t the same for me and Kim and Hugh and Trinity.”

“But it is.”  She took Jackson’s hand.  “Love is love.  The class you were born into doesn’t matter.”

“I hope that’s the truth one day, but it isn’t today.”  Jackson gently pulled his hand free.  “I’d do anything for Kim.  She comes first for me.  No matter what.  I’d die for her and I’d kill anyone for her, and that’s why I had to let her go.”

Sue’s brow wrinkled as she glanced at Hugh.

He shrugged.  “I understand what he’s saying.  Her safety comes first.”

“You males are fools.  Both of those females can make decisions for themselves and you aren’t letting them.”  She spun around to face him.  “Don’t you dare listen to him Hugh Truent.  You’d better tell Trinity how you feel.”

“Or what, Sue?”  He grabbed Trinity’s notebook and stuffed it into his backpack.  “You will?”

“No.  I’d never betray your trust, but”—she smiled slightly—“I will pester you every day until you tell her.”

He laughed.  “I wouldn’t want that.”  He turned toward Jackson.  “See, I have no choice.”

“Don’t do this,” warned Jackson.

He went to his bed and grabbed the package Tim had given him earlier.  “I’m sorry, Jackson, but I agree with Sue.  I want Trinity to know what she means to me.  This life, our life, is dangerous and I’d...I’d regret it if I never told her.”  He turned and strode outside.

Jackson and Sue followed him across camp.

“She’s still in there with Meesus,” said Jackson.

“Yep.”  He sat on the log, glancing at Trinity’s tent.

“That can’t make you feel good.”  Jackson glanced at him, grinning.  “Your ex-lover and the girl you love chatting it up.  I thought my relationship was doomed.”

“Meesus won’t say anything about her and Hugh,” said Sue.

“She already did, kind of,” he muttered.

“Oh.  That’s not good.”  Sue’s eyes were wide as she stared at the tent.  “Trinity isn’t going to like that.”

“How’d Meesus find this camp?”  Jackson glanced at Meesus’ Servants who loitered around the mess tent.

“Ray, I’m sure.”  He wished Trinity would come outside.  The longer the two of them spent together the worse it’d be for him.

“Ray shouldn’t know where we’re located.  Tim always goes to him.”  Jackson looked at Hugh, concern in his brown eyes.

He glanced back at the tent.  “Check with Tim and see if he told Ray or if Ray could’ve had someone follow him.”

“And if he didn’t?” asked Jackson.

“See what you can find out about him.”  He nodded at Say who stood in the forest, watching Trinity’s tent.

“He’s a kid,” said Sue.

“No one is allowed to go into town, except those I trust.  That little creep disappears all the time.  We have no idea where he goes.”

“He’s dedicated to Trinity,” said Sue.  “He’d never—”

“I’m not saying he did it on purpose.”  He wasn’t sure about anything where Say was concerned but he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her.  “Sue, can you distract him.  I don’t want him following us today.”  And it wasn’t only because he didn’t want the little creep peeping at them.  He really didn’t trust that kid.

“I don’t think he said anything to Ray or Meesus.  I’ve never seen him talk to anyone besides Trinity.”  Sue smiled slightly.  “Not that he actually talks to her, but I will keep him busy.  You and Trinity don’t need any company on this trip.”

His face heated as Sue wandered over by Say.  After a few minutes, she walked toward the mess tent and Say followed.

“I’ll check with Tim.”  Jackson didn’t move.  “I’d like to suggest you don’t do anything stupid out there alone with her, but I’m afraid I’d be wasting my breath.”

He glanced up at the Guard.  “I won’t hurt her.”

“Not intentionally.”

“This is for the best.  Trust me, I’ve thought about it.  You know she doesn’t see how special she is and—”

“Don’t lie and make this about what’s best for her.  You’re doing this because you want her.  Trust me, I’ve been exactly where you are—all good intentions and raging lust.  I ended up hurting Kim more than if I’d left her alone.  Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”  Jackson turned and headed across camp.

He stared after the Guard for a long moment.  Jackson was wrong.  He wasn’t doing this because of lust.  He opened his backpack to put the package Tim had given him away and hesitated.  He glanced at the tent.  Apparently, he had some time.  He opened the package, placing the brush into the same pocket of his backpack as the samples of Tracker blood.  Then he removed the envelopes.  One contained two slides wrapped together with a rubber band, a drop of blood squished between them.  He slipped that into the backpack with the brush.  The other contained a letter.

Dear Hugh,

Barney explained what you discovered in your lab.  I’d hoped you’d never know the sins of my mother and our father.  They happened before you were born and should’ve been left to rest.  I wish I could explain this in person, but until I can, know that you are my brother and I love you.  I’m not entirely happy about having another half-brother and I’d have a long talk with mother if she were still here (smile).  Yes, you are my half-brother.  Please forgive our father.  He was a flawed man, but a good one, even if you refuse to believe that.  Know that mother loved you as her son and father loved you too.  He was hard on you but he tried.  As I said, he was flawed as we all are.  Forgive him.  I will explain what I know when we meet and we will meet again.

Love your sister,

“Little” Sarah.

His hands trembled.  He was related to that bastard after all.  His father had made Sarah raise his son from another woman.  Sarah should’ve hated the very sight of him, but she hadn’t.  She’d loved him and he’d loved her.  That must’ve driven his father crazy.  He smirked.  At least, there was some joy in this news.  His father had probably wanted to upset Sarah, punish her for Tim, but she’d taken care of the motherless babe like all those other creatures, except she’d raised him as her own.  No wonder his father had hated him, but what about his biological mother?  What kind of woman would allow General Hugh Truent Senior to take her child, or had she been given no choice?  His father had been a cruel and powerful man.  It was possible that he’d taken his son without thought to the mother.

CHAPTER 11:  TRINITY

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“THE WAY YOU AND Hugh fight—so much anger, so much passion.”  Meesus laughed, the musical sound filling the tent.  “I knew there was something between the two of you the first night I saw you together, but—”

“You mean the night you mated with him.”  Trinity wanted to pull the words back at Meesus’ amused gaze but all she could do was try and salvage the little pride she had.  “Not that I care, it just seems odd that you thought you saw something between us and then mated with him.  Most females wouldn’t do that.”

“You know even less about females than you do males.  It is good that I decided to help you.”

“Lucky me,” she mumbled, as she continued filling her backpack.

“You fight this”—Meesus waved her hands around—“desire you have for Hugh.  I do not understand why, but it is fun to watch.  I would like to stay and make bets on when the two of you”—she smiled a knowing smile and brought her hands together in a clap—“explode, but I cannot.”

“Oh, I’ve made him explode a lot.”  She moved to the door, glancing outside but Hugh was still in his tent.  “Almost everything I do makes him angry.”

“That is not what I meant.”  Meesus grinned.  “But that is how males act when they are”—she waved her hands again—“all knotted up with passion.  You will understand one day.  Soon, I think.”

“It’s not like that.  We’re friends.  That’s all.”  If Meesus thought there was something besides friendship between her and Hugh, the other female would tell Ray and he’d tell her dad.

The other woman gave her a disbelieving look.

“Really.  There’s nothing between us.”  She pretended to search for something in her backpack, unable to keep from blushing at the lie.  Meesus remained silent but she could feel the other female’s gaze on her.  She glanced up and Meesus’ sultry eyes seemed to hold the secrets to life itself.  She didn’t have anyone else to talk to and the other female did know a lot about males.  She moved across the room and sat next to Meesus on the bed.  “You won’t say anything to Ray or my dad, right?”

“As I told Hugh, this is female business.”

“You can’t tell my mom either.”  She shouldn’t trust Meesus but for some reason, about this, she did.

“I will not tell anyone what we discuss today.”  Meesus smiled kindly.  “I promise.”

She still wasn’t sure but she’d probably never have this chance again and Meesus was an expert at attracting males.  “I don’t know if he’s interested in me.  Sometimes I think he is but other times...”  She wouldn’t admit that he ignored her.  No.  It was worse than that.  He avoided her.

Meesus touched Trinity’s cheek, her claws gently scraping across the skin.  “You are a beautiful girl.  The males, including Hugh, have noticed.”  She touched Trinity’s lips to keep her from speaking.  “Do not argue with me about this.  I know desire when I see it and I see it in the eyes of the males.  I have seen it since the day we met.  More and more males look at you every year and”—her eyes met Trinity’s—“lately, you look back.”  She tipped her head.  “Such innocence, but Ray was right to worry.  It won’t last.”  She picked up her purse and began digging in it.  “Too innocent I think.”

“What do you mean by that?  Either you’ve mated or you haven’t.  You’re innocent or you’re not.”  The other female was talking in riddles.

Meesus shook her head, laughing softly.  “That is untrue.  Some females are born understanding how males think and why they act as they do.  Others, like me, learn through experience.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to be in either category.

“Experience is not a bad thing, but it should be a female’s choice.”  Meesus’ eyes hardened for a moment.

Apparently, all of Meesus’ experiences had not been by choice.  She’d never thought about how the older female had become a prostitute.  She shouldn’t have judged Meesus so harshly.  The Almightys decided so much in their lives.

“Since you and Hugh seem to want to delay the inevitable, I shall protect you for him.”  Meesus smiled, but her eyes were cunning.

“I don’t need you to protect—”

“Hush and listen.”  Meesus touched her face again.  “There are too many males interested in you.”

That was laying it on a little thick.  Sure a few of the males flirted with her but there weren’t that many.  Her face must have shown her disbelief.

“It is true.  You do not realize what a prize you are.”  Meesus clasped Trinity’s chin in her hand.  “Beautiful.  Exotic.  Unique.  So innocent and yet strong and independent.  You are like a drug for the males, a challenge to conquer.”  She grabbed Trinity’s hand, pressing something into her palm.  “It is not always about what a female wants.  We do not always get to choose but we should.”  She stood.

“What’s this?”  Trinity stared at the vial in her hands.

“It is my gift to all my girls.”

“I’m not one of your girls.”  She had to make that clear.  She held out her hand, offering the vial back to Meesus.

“No, but you are a female in a male’s world.”  Meesus ran her claw over the vial, rolling it back and forth.  “This little potion has saved more females from violent males than I can count.”

“I’m never going to need this.”  Even if no one believed it, she was very good at protecting herself.

“I hope you do not, but if at some point you are...not given a choice, agree to the deed.  Pretend to go willingly.  Ask for a few minutes to freshen up.  Males expect that.”  Meesus’ lips curled, exposing her fangs.  “Like we need to be fresh for them to paw us.  They’d paw us if we were filthy and near death.”  She shook her head.  “You do not believe me but I have seen it happen.  Put”—she tapped the vial—“that on your claws.  Let him think you are overwhelmed by passion and set your claws into his skin.  It is not safe to only slash him.  The effect is fast, but not that fast.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what being overwhelmed by passion would look like but she was too embarrassed to ask.  “Will it kill him?”  She’d killed before but always in the heat of battle.

“No, but you may once he passes out.  Any male who will force a female deserves to die.”

“Ah...I don’t know if I can do that.”  She held out the vial.  She couldn’t plan and execute a murder.  “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll need this.”

“If you prefer, you can escape once he passes out.”

“I’m still not...I mean, I can take care of myself.”  This wasn’t something she needed or wanted.

“Against how many?  If there are enough or if the male catches you unsuspecting...”

“But how could I use it then?”  Those things could happen.  She’d been concerned about winning against the five Servants in the alley, not that they’d been going to rape her, but a group of males might be able to overtake her.

“Males, when wanting to mate, are fools.  Convince them you are interested but you must have them one at a time.”

“They’d be okay with that?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it is a chance.  If you eliminate a few, that is less you must fight and if you can get them alone, you can make them sleep one at a time and then there is no fighting necessary.”

“Hurry up, Trinity,” yelled Hugh from outside.

She stared at the vial.  “Thank you.”  She actually meant it.  She’d probably never need it, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep it with her.  She opened her backpack and stuffed it inside the pouch that held her herbs.

“Go now.  Hugh waits.  Enjoy your fighting.”

She flung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed her quiver.

“Remember, you will enjoy your mating better than fighting but make sure it is your decision.  Hugh will wait.  He is a good male.”

“We’re just friends.”

Meesus’ laughter followed her out the door.

CHAPTER 12:  HUGH

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HUGH LEANED AGAINST THE wall of the small cave.  It was one of the many that peppered Harbor Point.  He and Trinity had traveled until dark.  He’d gotten better at navigating the forest during the daylight, but he’d never be able to see at night which made him a liability once the sun set.  It would’ve been smarter for him to send Jackson with her but Sue was right.  He needed to let her how he felt, but first he had to tell her about his past.  She deserved to know everything about him and his father before they went any further in their relationship.

He stared into the darkness watching for her, anticipating and dreading her return.  She’d been quiet on the trip through the forest.  She wasn’t angry.  She seemed reflective and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.  He was crazy about her but he wasn’t crazy which meant before he told her about his past or his feelings, he had to find out what Meesus had said to her even though every instinct he had screamed for him to avoid that topic at all costs.  If Meesus had said anything about their night together it wasn’t going to sit well with Trinity, but he had to know if she’d involved Trinity in a scheme like she’d involved him.  He ran his hand through his hair, tugging a little.  Sleeping with Meesus was becoming a bigger mistake than he’d ever imagined.

Trinity came back into the cave and sat near the small fire.

“Everything good?”  He sat across from her and handed her a hunk of bread.

“Yeah.  Our tracks are covered and it’s quiet.”  She took a bite of the bread, her teeth flashing white in the darkness.

His stomach twisted in knots.  Like it or not, it was time.  “Ah, what did Meesus want?”

She flushed a bit.

“No matter what she said, there is nothing between her and me.”  He was going to kill Meesus.

“Besides mating?  I didn’t think there was.”

“Once.  Yes, but”—he looked directly at her—“not now.”

“Why not?”  Her voice was soft and her gaze shimmered gold and green in the firelight.

Her eyes were mesmerizing.  He wanted to confess everything—every sin he’d ever committed.  She’d forgive him.  She’d love him.  He blinked, clearing his fantasies.  There was a huge gap between attraction and love.  “Because I don’t want Meesus.  That night...It’d been a long time since I’d...and she wanted something from me.  That’s why she and I...you know.”

“What did she want from you?”

“I asked first.”

She flushed again, but her eyes narrowed.  “Okay.  I’ll answer your question.  The entire conversation was stupid.  She gave me something.”

“What?”  He had a bad feeling about this.  Meesus wasn’t the type to do anything out of kindness.

“A potion to use to protect myself if ever...someone tried to force me.”  Her face was scarlet now as she stared into the fire.  “She said that the males look at me too much and it isn’t safe.  I know it’s not true—”

“It is true.  We talked about this.”  He moved across the cave and sat next to her, raising her chin so she was looking at him.  “You are extraordinarily beautiful.”  Her eyes were huge in the darkness and her lips were slightly parted.  It took everything he had not to kiss her.  “Males notice you.  Most wouldn’t dream of hurting you or trying to force you, but there are some.”

“I can protect myself.”  She turned her head, breaking contact.  “Why won’t any of you believe that?”

He grabbed her shoulders, furious in his fear for her.  “You’re not invincible.”  He shook her, his fingers digging into her arms.  “Maybe you can fight a few males but you can’t beat them all.”

“I know I’m not invincible.  No one is.”  She pulled away, rubbing her arms.  “I saw Mirra and Gaar get captured and if that can happen to them it can happen to any of us.”

He froze, staring at her as she rubbed where he’d touched her.  “I hurt you.  I’m...I’m sorry.”  Here was the proof that he was the General’s son.  “Keep what Meesus gave you and use it if you have to.  On anyone, even me.”

“I’d never use it on you.”  She scooted closer to him.  “You’d never give me a reason to.”

“I touched you in anger.  I shouldn’t have.  Never in anger.”  He turned and stared at the fire.  Actions never lied.  He was just like...his father.  That word was bitter to swallow.  That man’s degenerate DNA raced through his body.  She was younger than him and he wanted her.  How long before he took what he wanted, lying to himself if necessary?

“You didn’t hurt me.  You wouldn’t hurt me.”  She grinned.  “You make me so mad that I want to kill you sometimes, but you’d never hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”  He didn’t know that, so there was no way she could.

“But I do.”  She put her hand over his heart.  “It’s not in you.”

“You don’t—”

“I’m not a fool.  I know about rape but I also know you’d never do something like that.”

“You don’t know for sure what someone...anyone would do when they’re angry enough.”  His eyes dropped to her mouth.  “Or aroused enough.”

“That’s not true.”  Her face heated, but her hand moved to his cheek.  “No creature ever goes against its true nature and yours is to protect, not hurt.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.  He wanted to believe her, but he knew better.  He straightened, moving away.  “You don’t know me.  Not really.  But you will soon.”  It was time to drag the family skeletons from the closet.  “What has your dad told you about my father?”

“You mean the man who raised you, the General.”

His chest clenched as if his heart had stopped.  Once he told her, he could never take it back.  “Barney went to see my sister.  She sent a letter.  Hugh Truent Senior is my biological father.”

Her eyes widened and she took his hand.  “Oh Hugh, I’m so sorry.  I know you hated him.”

He wanted to cling to her, hold her in his arms, but instead he pulled free from her grasp.  It was better that he broke contact than to have her recoil from his touch and she would once he finished his story.  “I’ve never told anyone what I’m going to tell you.  Only a few people know about it at all.”  He took a deep breath.  He had to do this.  If he were going to ask her to commit to him, she deserved to know what DNA she’d be accepting into her life, into her children because if she were willing, he wanted her forever.  He wanted her as his wife.  “I hated him.  Hated that he was a part of me and—”

“Dad said he wasn’t kind to you.”  She touched his hand in a fleeting caress that he felt to his soul.

“That’s not why I hated him.”  He glanced at her, memorizing the trust and care he saw in her eyes.  He said a quick prayer that she’d understand and not blame him for his father’s sins.  “When I was in college I dated a girl, Alice.  Things were going well.  She invited me to her home to meet her parents.”  His jaw clenched.  “When her father found out who I was, he threw me out of the house.”

“What?  Why?  You’re smart and kind and cute.”  She looked away at his smile.

“Thank you.”  He knew she found him attractive, but he loved hearing her say it.  Later, if she accepted him, flawed DNA and all, he’d kiss her as she told him everything she liked about him.  He’d make sure the list was long.

“Why did Alice’s dad dislike you?  Was it because you were dating his daughter?  My dad dislikes any male who looks at me.  I overheard him tell Mom that he hated the idea of me and anyone mating.”  She glanced away, blushing.

At least she was no longer comfortable talking about mating around him.  That meant she saw him as a potential partner, but for how long?  He sighed.  He had to get this done.  He needed to know if he had a chance or if his heart were going to be destroyed.  “It wasn’t as simple as that.  Alice argued with her father until he agreed to explain why he’d forbidden her to see me.  I was escorted into his study.  Alice was asked to leave.”  He laughed.  It was harsh even to his ears.  “We insisted she stay.  We were in love and love would conquer all.”  He met her eyes.  “You know...that load of crap.”

“It’s not crap.”  Her jaw jutted out stubbornly.

“I hope you never have a reason to disbelieve that.”  If she accepted him, he’d make sure she never became disillusioned about love.  “Alice’s father was retired military.  He’d been a lieutenant under my father’s command.  One evening while they were deployed, the General returned to the officers’ tent with three girls.  They were teenagers, around fourteen.  He was drunk and so were the girls.  He’d picked them up while shopping for gifts for us.”  He swallowed a lump in his throat.  If he and his sister hadn’t wanted gifts those girls would never have met his father.  He took a deep breath.  “The General bought them presents and took them out to dinner.”  He paused, unable to continue.  Repeating it made it more real somehow.

“You don’t have to tell me.”  She took his hand again.

“Who lets their children run around alone like that?”  He stared at her hand entwined with his.  He should move away from her touch, her warmth, but he couldn’t.

“They were fourteen.  They were together.”  Her large golden eyes were green in the dark.

“He gave his four officers two of the girls.  He’d taken a liking to the other one and was going to keep her for himself.”

“Did the girls want to—”

“It doesn’t matter.  They were only fourteen.”

“We’re mated at thirteen.”

“And I told you that’s wrong.  No matter the class.  That’s too young.”  He swallowed back bile.  “That will stop.  I’ll make it stop.”  All he had to do was win this war.

“What happened to the girls?  I’m assuming your girlfriend’s father intervened in some way.  He wouldn’t have told you the story if he’d participated.”

He nodded.  She may be innocent and naïve about some things, but she wasn’t stupid.  “The other three officers were already drunk and didn’t care that these were only little girls.  They were female; that was enough, but Alice’s father did care.  The General took the one girl into his tent.  The other officers were already trying to separate the other two.  The lieutenant had to choose to attempt to save one or to save two.  He chose the two.  He was the commanding officer after the General, so he took the two girls to his tent, telling the others that he’d send them out once he’d finished.”  He shifted, feeling unclean.  “The lieutenant slipped out the side of his tent and escorted the girls to their homes.  The next day he reported what had happened to his superiors, the General’s superiors.”

“Was your father punished?”

“No and there’s more.”  He’d fought to control his temper his entire life.  It was an unwanted gift from his father and he hated that part of himself.  “When my father wasn’t punished, Alice’s father resigned.  A few years later he ran into one of the other officers, a captain.  According to this captain, he and the other officers had decided to go out to find some entertainment once they’d realized that the girls were gone, but the captain had been too drunk and had passed out.  He’d woken late at night and had gone outside to relieve himself.  He’d seen the General putting the other girl into a carriage.  She had a swollen eye and a bloodied lip.”  His hands trembled.

“We had a few males like that in camp.”  Her words dripped with disgust.

He refused to look at her.  He couldn’t bear to see that disgust directed at him.  “I think he hit my moth...Sarah too.  Not often but once is too much.”

“Did the other Almighty, the captain, report what he saw to his superiors?”

“Yes, but he got the same answer Alice’s father had.  The General was too valuable a commodity to lose over some trifling personal incident.”  He met her eyes as his heart thudded in his chest.  He hated his father and he hated himself for hosting that blood, for potentially passing on that DNA.

“You’re right.  Your father was a despicable man.”  She squeezed his hand and scooted closer to him.  “But that doesn’t make you like him.”

“It taints me.”

“No, it doesn’t.  Everyone should be judged on their actions not their heritage.”

“They should but they aren’t.  You know that better than anyone.”

She withdrew her hand from his grasp.  He wanted to reach for her, but he didn’t.  He’d been wrong.  Sue had been wrong.  Trinity didn’t love him, couldn’t love him.  She was too innocent and good to be with someone like him—scarred and damaged by blood and life.

“Alice said she didn’t care what my father had done, but she did.  It was in her eyes.  She was scared of me from that day forward.”  He ran his hand though his hair.  “She stopped inviting me over when her young cousins came to visit.  I showed up one day.  I had no idea they’d be there but Alice watched me like I was going to jump them and force them to...”

“You wouldn’t do that.”  She touched his shoulder and arm, her fingers caressing before drifting away.

“We fought a lot.  She was jealous and I used to have a temper.”

“Used to?”  She laughed.  “You lose your temper all the time around me.”

She was right.  Before he met her, he hadn’t lost control in years.  His stomach clenched.  They couldn’t be together, ever.  He couldn’t risk it.

“I was kidding.”  Her hand skimmed over his and then lifted to his cheek, turning him toward her.  “You’d never hurt me.  Never.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”  He should move away, but if she wasn’t afraid...

“But I am sure.”  She grinned again.  “Because, I’d kick your ass.”

A snort of laughter escaped and he wanted to drop to his knees and kiss her feet.  He’d never have thought he’d find laughter in this discussion.  “There is that.”  His smile died.  “But, I’m stronger than you and I may not win the fight, but I could hurt you.”

Her hand cupped his cheek for a quick second and then dropped away as she leaned a little closer.  “I trust you.  I always have and always will.  I’m not Alice.”

He stared into her eyes for a long moment and then he leaned toward her.  If he didn’t do something fast, he was going to kiss her and once that happened, his world would never be the same.

“Hugh?”  She moved closer.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers.  It was time to change their world anyway.

“Something’s coming,” she said against his mouth.

CHAPTER 13:  HUGH

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HUGH FOLLOWED TRINITY TO the mouth of the cave.

She stopped, turning toward him, her eyes worried.  “Wait here.”

“Should I put out the fire?”  It killed him to let her go into the darkness, into possible danger, alone, but he’d put her at risk.

“No.  Not yet.  I’m only going far enough to be able to hear and smell better.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Promise you won’t do anything stupid like try and follow me.”

“I promise.”  Unless she screamed or there was even a hint of a scuffle.  Then, nothing would stop him from rushing to her side, even if it meant throwing himself into the arms of a River-Man.  He touched her cheek, her skin soft under his fingers.  “Be careful.”

She slipped outside and disappeared.  He stared into the night, seeing nothing even with the moon and stars.  He was worse than helpless out here.  He was a liability.  One day, when the war was over, if he survived, he’d look into designing a device to help Almightys see in the dark.  He preferred to tinker with mechanical engineering over genetics anyway and at least this would be used for good unlike his tracking device.

Trinity darted out of the shadows and stopped in front of him, her eyes bright with excitement.  “It’s Gaar.”

“Thank Araldo.”  He grabbed her hand as she turned to leave.  “Where are you going?”

“To find him.  He probably knows we’re here, but just in case.”

“Let him find us.”

She stood on her tip-toes, slipping her hand free from his grasp and running her fingers through his hair.  “I’ll be right back.”  She kissed him and darted into the forest.

It’d only been a soft brushing of lips but it set his heart pounding.  She’d made the first move.  She’d wanted to kiss him.  He couldn’t stop grinning as he walked back to the fire.  He’d dragged the proverbial family skeleton from the closet and she still wanted to kiss him.  She wanted him.  Although she didn’t fully understand all that entailed, he was more than happy to show her.  He’d spend hours showing her exactly...His imagination screeched to a halt.  She was getting Gaar.  The Handler would spend the night with them and that meant all kissing and touching was done.  His spirit deflated as he frowned into the fire.  There was no telling how long Gaar would tag along.  He sighed as he grabbed his backpack, pulling out the map and her notebook.  He might as well get the Handler to look over their map.  Trinity might’ve missed a spot or two of dangerous terrain.

He spread the map out on the ground and opened the notebook.  He needed to know what the predators looked like.  He froze, staring at the first page.  It was a drawing of Trinity and it was exquisite.  Her hair was loose, blowing in the wind and she was smiling, showing her teeth.  A drawing like this took skill, a lot of skill.  She was gifted.  He flipped the page, eager to see the rest and cringed as he tipped his head.  Was that a flower or a bug?  He turned to the next page and the next, wincing a little.  Thankfully, he was alone.  He didn’t want to hurt her feelings but he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to hide his initial reaction.

As he continued paging through the book, the drawings got better.  There were some of Jackson and Kim, both together and separate.  He paused on an image of Mirra heavy with young.  It was a shame her babies had died.  He flipped past pictures of Travis, Gaar, Curtis and her parents, along with scenes of the camp and forest.  She was a voracious artist, drawing everyone and everything in sight and with each image her skill improved.

He stopped on a drawing of a giant slug-like creature.  This must be a Slugmug.  It was oblong with no real shape, like a large blob.  It had tiny arms and tentacles around its head.  That was the part that made his heart slam against his chest.  Hidden in the gooey mess of flesh was the face of a Guard or maybe a Servant, complete with fangs.  His jaw tensed.  Conguise would pay for doing this.

He flipped the page and sucked in a deep breath.  It was a picture of Jethro, standing and smiling.  He turned to the next page.  Another image of Jethro stared back at him.  She’d taken great pains with these drawings.  They weren’t sketches.  He flipped halfway through the book, not even looking at the images of the other predators.  He was only focused on the drawings of Jethro and there were a lot of them.  All of them drawn with care and talent and...love.  He couldn’t name the emotions that stormed through him.  He turned another page, almost tearing the paper.  His hand trembled as he read the note.

Jethro,

It’s been awhile since we’ve talked.  I’ve been practicing sketching.  I started small like you suggested and I’m getting better.  I love the drawing you did of me.  I look at that page before I start every picture.  It challenges me to do better and it reminds me of you and our time together at the Lake of Sins.  You were a good friend when I truly needed one.

I’d love to get together one day.  Maybe, we can meet at the Lake of Sins and have a picnic (please bring cookies!).  I know you’re busy, but if you can the find time and want to meet talk to Kim.  She knows how to find me.

I hope you like the drawing.

Trinity

On the next page was an image of Jethro and her at the Lake Of Sins.  They were having a picnic and sitting close together, too close.  Jethro had a paper and pencil, drawing something.  Hugh’s hand shook as he closed the book.  He wanted to tear the pages out and throw them in the fire, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she was still in love with Jethro.

CHAPTER 14:  HUGH

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“HUGH!”  TRINITY RACED INTO the cave.

He glanced away.  Looking at her sent a sharp pain through his chest and made him want to punch something, preferably Jethro.

She fidgeted, barely able to control her excitement.  “Gaar found another Handler.”

His head snapped up.  He hadn’t expected that.

Gaar walked slowly into the cave.  “I want you to meet someone.”  He turned and whispered, “It’ll be okay.  I promise.”

Gaar sat down by the fire.  A female Handler followed him.  She had long, dark hair, offset by a white streak.  She was smaller than Hugh had expected.  She was tall and not exactly thin, but not bulky like Gaar either.  Females were typically littler than the males, but according to history books the female Handlers had been more muscular than this one.

“This is Tatania,” said Gaar.  “And this is Hugh Truent.  He’s an Almighty.”

Tatania’s black eyes bore into him and then darted to Trinity and back to Gaar.  She shifted on her feet, obviously wanting to flee back into the forest.

“It’s nice to meet you.”  He kept his voice low and smiled instead of adding, please don’t kill us.

“Tatania doesn’t like confined spaces.  I’m helping her with that.”  Gaar patted the spot next to him.

“We were getting ready to eat.”  Trinity dug into her backpack and pulled out some food.

As far as lies went it was a good one.  Tatania stared at the food, her black eyes no longer as wary.  Trinity handed an armful of fruit, nuts and bread to Gaar before sitting next to Hugh and handing him an apple.

“I’m not hungry.”  He shifted, putting some space between them.  He couldn’t be near her right now.  He had no idea how he was going to manage a trip through the forest with her, but he would.  He had a war to win.

She gave him a quizzical look as she stuffed the apple back in her sack.  “Gaar, we have serum.”  She handed the package to the Handler.

Gaar opened the box.  “There’s enough in here to last months.”

“Use it wisely.  I’m not sure when we’ll get more,” he said.

“You didn’t make it?”  Gaar’s black eyes gleamed red from the flames.

He shifted, once again realizing how helpless he was in this part of the world.  “No.  It was a gift.  I kept a vial for testing once I get access to a lab.”

“At least this buys us some time.”  Gaar put the package into his sack.

“Where’s Mirra?” asked Trinity.

“Gone.  Nirankan showed up and she took off.”  Gaar tore the loaf of bread in two, handing the larger half to Tatania.  “They just left, so they aren’t far.  I’ll find her.”  He scrunched his half of the bread in his fist.  “This has no substance.  Like air.  My bread’s better.”  He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth

For a moment, Hugh forgot about the drawings and he glanced at Trinity, amused.  They’d joked many times about the similarities between Gaar’s bread and a rock.  Her eyes were sparkling and it was like a physical blow.  She’d never be his, not truly.  He looked away, tamping down his anger and frustration.  “Tatania, are you wild born like Gaar?”  He didn’t think so.  Her size probably had something to do with how she’d been created.  These Handlers and Trackers weren’t clones which meant the new ones had to start as something else, probably Guard or House Servant.

Tatania looked at Gaar and shook her head.

“Gaar’s the last of the wild born,” said Trinity.

“I didn’t know that.  I’m sorry, Gaar.”  It must be hard being the last of his kind.

“It’s okay.  Tatania is all Handler.  Better than wild born.”  Gaar patted her on the leg.

Tatania smiled at him and leaned a little closer.

So, Gaar hadn’t only found another Handler, he’d found a mate.  Well, good for him.  At least someone was happy.  Trinity nudged Hugh but he only grunted, refusing to look at her.  His actions were hurting her, but he didn’t care.

“Tatania and her friend, Noreese, lived in the forest after we freed them.  They kept to themselves.”  Gaar’s gaze darted between Hugh and Trinity.  “A few months ago Noreese was captured by the Almightys.”

“How do you know it was the Almightys that took her?” he asked.

“I know,” said Tatania, black eyes glaring at him.  “I sick.  I slept.  Noreese hunt at the river.  I hear her scream.  I run to find her but I too late.  She gone.”  The hatred in her eyes dimmed.  “She was my friend.”

Gaar put his arm around Tatania and she leaned against him.

“But I know it was Almightys.”  Tatania tapped her nose. “I smell them and their Guards.”

He glanced at Gaar, not sure if he wanted to ask this question.  “Do you think your friend was alive when she was taken?”

“Yes.  I find where she fall.  No blood.  No scent of death in the air.”  Once again, Tatania’s eyes narrowed with rage.

He fought the urge to squirm.  He wouldn’t want to be the one who took her friend if she ever found them.

“I follow for two days, but they move fast,” said Tatania.

He glanced at Gaar, not sure how Tatania would handle being questioned.  Gaar shrugged slightly not helping him at all.  He took a deep breath.  Gaar would probably stop her from killing him, but the first punch or stab was going to hurt.  “Are you sure Almightys took her?”  At her glare he hurried on, “I believe you smelled them, but they could’ve been traveling in the area.  I’m only asking because Almightys and Guards can’t outrun a Handler in the forest.  It’s impossible.”  Her shoulders eased at his compliment and he inhaled for the first time in minutes.  “Could Noreese have been taken by a River-Man?”  He prayed that was the case because if the authorities were restarting the Tracker and Handler camps and they succeeded in bonding the two, the Allied Classes would lose.

“No River-Man took Noreese.  There were marks on shore from boat.  I followed scent in the air but could not find where they come back to land.”

“Do you hunt there often?”  Please say no.  Please make this a random act.

“Yes.  Good spot.  Lots of fish.”

He almost laughed.  He should’ve known better than to pray.  Araldo had abandoned him today.  “Were you in contact with the other Handlers?”

“At first, then fights started over food.  We all move away from others.  Stay away from each other.”

They had claimed their territories and had avoided each other.  It was natural.  It made sense, but it also made it easier for the Almightys to attack.

“Tatania wants to join the Allied Classes.”  Gaar grinned at him.

That was the best news he’d heard in a long time.  “Would it be safe for her to travel to the other Handlers’ territories and warn them?”

“Warn them about what?”  Gaar’s arm tightened around Tatania.

“The attack on Tatania and Noreese had to be planned.  If the other Handlers hunt in their usual spots, the same Almightys who captured Noreese may set a trap for them too.  Suggest they move to new areas for hunting and camping.”  He hesitated, hoping against hope that they’d go for this.  “They may also want join forces with us so they can live free in the future.”

“I go and warn others,” said Tatania.

“Mirra needs her serum.”  Gaar’s face tightened, obviously torn between his allegiance to Mirra and his attraction to Tatania.

“I go alone.”  Tatania patted his arm.  “You find your Tracker.  Then we meet again.”

“I’ll find you as soon as I’ve given them the serum,” said Gaar.

“You should both take some too,” he said.

Gaar uncapped a vial.

“Wait.  I’d like a sample of your blood before the shot and then one tomorrow too.”  It was the best way to study the changes.  He dug in his backpack and grabbed the old vial of serum Gaar had given him.  He rinsed it out with water.  “Do you still have your vial?”

“I have mine.”  Trinity grabbed her backpack.

“Yeah,” said Gaar, digging in his bag.

“Trade me.”  He handed Gaar the clean vial and Gaar handed him the old one.  He put the old vial into his backpack.  He had to save some of the original formula in case the batch Meesus sent didn’t work.

Gaar pulled the large knife from his side and sliced into his finger, dripping the blood into the clean vial.

“Do you still need mine?”  Trinity had already rinsed hers.

“Yeah.”  He took it, without looking at her.  “If Tatania doesn’t mind giving a sample.”

Gaar handed the blood filled vial to Hugh and took Tatania’s hand.

“It’s okay,” said Gaar.  “Hugh’s trying to help us.  He’s a good Almighty.  Maybe, the only one.”

Tatania pulled her knife, watching Hugh.  He shifted to block Trinity who tried to push in front of him.

“Tatania.”  Gaar’s voice was low and calm.

Tatania jabbed the knife into her finger and held out her hand.  “No Almighty stick me again.  Ever.”

Hugh nodded, handing her the vial.  When it was full, she gave it back to him and stuck her finger in her mouth, her large, sharp teeth showing.

Gaar took out two containers of serum and injected himself and then Tatania.  Hugh took the now empty vials and rinsed them.  He’d need them to hold the Handler blood sample tomorrow.  He put the bottles into his backpack.

“One more thing.”  He handed the map to Gaar.  “Trinity marked the dangerous areas in the forest.  I thought you might want to look it over.”

“Hey!  I didn’t miss anything.”  She laughed, elbowing him in the side.

“Stop doing that!”  He shoved her arm away from him.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly.

His jaw clenched.  “I’m sorry, but I’m sick of you hitting me.”  He turned away from her, taking the opportunity to put more distance between them.  “Gaar, can you describe the creatures too?  Tell me their strengths and weaknesses.  How they hunt?  How to kill them?”  There was a sharp intake of breath from Trinity.  He turned toward her and handed her the notebook.  “I already looked at your drawings.”

“Oh.”  Her voice was soft and her eyes downcast as she took the sketch pad.

He was a fool, a weak, soft fool.  “The drawings were good, but I need more details.”

“Oh.”  This time the word was louder, hopeful and when she looked at him, he was pretty sure something inside of him broke.  It was the only explanation for the pain.

He turned away.  Gaar was holding the open map in front of him, but his black eyes studied Hugh.  Great.  If he weren’t careful, he’d be dead—skewered or torn in two by the overprotective Handler.

CHAPTER 15:  JETHRO

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JETHRO PACED IN HIS tent.  It was going to be a long night.  After the execution of the prisoners, Cal had ordered the Guards to set up a base camp and then he and a small team of Guards had escorted Jethro back to the barracks near town.  They’d arrived late that afternoon.  In the morning, Cal would report Jethro’s actions to the Supreme Almighty.

There was a whisper of sound approaching his tent.  He stopped, tipping his head.  Someone was coming and they were trying to be quiet.  He leaned against one of the tent posts and waited.  He was more curious than nervous.  He could handle anyone who dared to attack him.  Plus, it wasn’t Cal’s style to send an assassin.  Captain Cal was more the public humiliation and death sort of guy.  One of the outer tent posts wiggled, creeping upward from the ground.  A hand appeared under the tent, followed by another and then two arms.

Jethro sniffed.  “Indy?”

The Guard’s head followed his arms.  “Shhh.”  He wriggled into the tent and hopped to his feet.

“I hadn’t expected any visitors.”  His night had just gotten a bit more interesting.

“I bet not.”  Indy grinned and whispered, “Come on.  Get your stuff and let’s get out of here.”

“I’m under arrest.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Ah, I think I am.”  He tipped his head toward the front of the tent.  He couldn’t see the Guards with the door flap closed, but they were out there.  Cal had ordered two of them to watch him and the last time he’d checked, they were a few feet away playing cards.

“You’re under guard, not arrest.  Captain Cal doesn’t have the authority to arrest you.”  Indy grabbed Jethro’s jacket and tossed it to him.  “You aren’t actually in the military are you?”

He caught the jacket.  “No.”

“Then Captain Cal has no authority over you.  You aren’t a member of the Allied Classes.  You aren’t a traitor.”

“I did attack him and threaten to kill him.  Doesn’t that make me a traitor of sorts?”

“If you were in the military then yes your actions would be enough for a court martial, but since you aren’t then no.  To be labeled a traitor you’d have to have done something against our government.  Making Captain Cal whimper and cry is not enough.”

“What if I’d killed him?”  He tossed his jacket on the bed.

“Still no.  You could be arrested by the police, but not by a captain in the army.”

“Thanks for the legal lesson, but why exactly are you here?”  What Indy said sounded logical but they weren’t friends and he didn’t plan on making his situation worse.  He had no idea what punishment the Supreme Almighty would hand down, but he hoped he’d be given another chance.  He wasn’t ready to return to managing the Producer encampments or to explain to his mom and sister why they no longer had a home or business.

“I’ve been working for Cal for over ten years.  I’ve wanted to punch him for”—Indy tapped his chin—“about ten years.  You’ve only been here a few weeks and you took him down.”  He slammed his fist into his hand, grinning.  “I’ve never enjoyed anything as much as I enjoyed seeing that.  So, I owe you a few drinks.”

“Three Guards were beheaded.”

“Yeah.”  Indy sobered.  “Captain Cal is cruel and an idiot.”  His lip turned up at the side in a half-snarl, half-smile.  “Another reason to celebrate.  Life’s short.”  He walked to the opening and squatted.  “Are you coming or not?”

“Not.  I’m in enough trouble as it is.”  It was tempting, but trouble found Indy like fire found heat.

“Okay, but if it were me who might be arrested by the police tomorrow for beating a captain of the Protective Services, there is only one place I’d want to spend my last free night.  Well, two places but you’re an Almighty, we’ll start slow.”

He hadn’t considered that he might end up in jail.  His mom was going to kill him.

Indy grinned up at him.  “I promise to have you back before Cal notices you’re gone.  The captain won’t return until late tomorrow.  He’ll use tonight to seek his own pleasures.  I suggest we do the same.”

He could use a night out.  He’d spent his last few months in college studying non-stop.  If someone had told him that it wouldn’t make a difference, he would’ve spent more time having fun.  He may not know what fate awaited him but he did know that if this were his last free night, he wasn’t going to spend it alone in his tent.

CHAPTER 16:  JETHRO

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JETHRO WAS DRUNK AND Indy was the best friend he’d ever had.

“Drink up.  It’s too early to slow down.”  Indy refilled Jethro’s glass with more beer from the pitcher.

He smiled and took another swig, his head spinning a bit.  He needed to eat.  He picked up the menu—typical bar food.  It all looked delicious.  He glanced around and then tugged on Indy’s shirtsleeve.  “Where’s the waitress?”

“She just told us she was off duty.  You tipped her.  A lot.”  Indy grinned.  “She said she might come and have a drink with us.  I think she likes you.”

He grinned.  “That’s great.”  He could use a female.  He frowned.  “What does she look like?”

“Does it matter?  She’s available.”

“Yeah, it matters.  I’m not desperate.”

Indy gave him a look that clearly stated he didn’t believe that for a second and said, “Really?  For me, if they’re breathing and available, they’ll do.”  He leaned back, tipping his chair.  “But it’s okay if you’re particular.  To each his own.  So, what’s your type?”

He looked around the bar, studying each female.  House Servants, Guards and Almightys were scattered about.  He’d never been to a blended-bar before.  Some of his friends from college had tried to talk him into going but he’d refused.  He would’ve refused tonight too, but Indy hadn’t said where they were going and once they’d walked in he’d have looked like a Grunt’s ass if he’d left.  His father had condemned these places but he was having a good time.  He and Indy had played darts and pool with some of the other males there.  Everyone seemed to accept each other.  It was actually kind of nice.

“None of these beauties appeal to you?”  Indy’s voice was incredulous.  “What about her?”  He tipped his beer in the direction of an Almighty girl who stood with four other women.

He shook his head as he looked at the female who’d caught Indy’s attention.  “Tits too big.”

“That’s not possible.”  Indy’s chair dropped back down to the ground.

He laughed and took another drink.  “That’s what I used to think too, but—”

“But now you’re crazy?”  Indy refilled both of their glasses.  “Okay, what about one of her friends?”

His eyes roamed over the other girls in the group.  “Too short.  Too thin.  Tits too small.”

The girl with the small breasts looked in their direction and smiled.

“They’re little but they’d do.”  Indy smiled back at her.

He continued searching the bar, passing over Almighty after Almighty.  Too blonde.  Too curvy.  Not curvy enough.  His gaze landed on a female sitting in a booth with a couple of friends.  He pointed.  “That one.”

Indy stopped flirting from across the room with the small breasted Almighty and turned to look at the female Jethro had pointed out.  “I never would’ve figured you’d be into House Servants.  Not judging.  Some of them are hot and I hear they’re quite limber, but”—he leaned closer to Jethro—“don’t piss them off.  Those claws will tear you apart and they’re fast.  I mean, I’m fast but nothing like they are.”

“I’m not into House Servants.”  He wasn’t.  Interclass breeding was wrong.  He couldn’t recall why at the moment, but he knew it was.

The girl looked their way and smiled, the points of her fangs peeking out from under her lips.  Instantly, he was aroused.  All thoughts of right or wrong disappeared, replaced by images of her naked in his arms.  He put the menu down.  He didn’t need food, he needed her.  He stood.

“You’re going over there?”  Indy grabbed him.

“Yeah.”  He glared at the Guard’s hand on his arm.  “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”  Indy stood, dropping his hold on Jethro. “Calm down.  I don’t need you tearing apart this bar.  I never saw anyone rip through as many Guards as you did.”

“It was nothing.  I was angry.  That’s all.”  He didn’t need anyone questioning his abilities.  He shouldn’t have lost his temper but Cal had deserved everything he’d gotten.  He only wished he’d been able to finish the job.

“Okay, but promise not to get pissed at me.”

“Then don’t get in my way.”  His eyes wandered back to the House Servant.  She glanced at him and leaned forward to talk to her friends.

“I won’t.  I’ll join you.  To keep her friends occupied.  I wouldn’t want one of them to deter you from getting some companionship on your last night of freedom.”

He wasn’t going to think about tomorrow, not when tonight was looking so good.  “What about her?”  The small breasted girl glanced at Indy again.

“She’s an Almighty.  I don’t need the hassle.”

“What do you mean?”

“The authorities look the other way when we lower classes mate with each other.  They’re not as forgiving when their own kind does it.”  Indy’s eyes were no longer amused.  “And trust me.  It isn’t the Almighty who suffers when that happens.”

He glanced at the female Servant again, hope dying in his chest.

“Don’t worry.”  Indy slapped him on the back.  “The authorities are okay with you males dabbling with the lower classes.  It’s kind of seen as a boys-will-be-boys thing.  They only care about us lower class males mating with your females.”

Jethro’s eyes went back to the female Servant.  That was definitely good news.

“I think it’s because we’re better in bed.  More stamina if you know what I mean.  You Almightys may be endowed up here”—Indy tapped his temple—“but not so much down—”

“Some of us are endowed everywhere,” he said as the female Servant smiled at him.  “You can ask her tomorrow.”

He strode across the room, not even bothering to look casual.  Every fiber in his being wanted to grab the female’s hand and drag her somewhere private.  He stopped at the table, his nostrils flaring to catch her scent.  A hint of flowers lingered under the smoke and stale beer of the bar.

“Did you want something?”  She stared up at him.  Her big, green eyes disinterested.

Her eyes were lying.  She’d flirted with him from across the room.  She wanted him and he wanted her.  He was in no mood to play and he opened his mouth to say exactly that, when Indy stepped forward, holding the pitcher of beer.

“Ladies, my friend and I would like to buy you a drink.”

The girls looked at each other.  One didn’t look happy but the other two shrugged.

“Sure,” said the Servant who’d caught his attention.  “I’m Leslie, this is Miranda”—she pointed to a House Servant with short, light brown hair—“and this is Callie.”  She pointed to the other House Servant who had black hair.

“I’m Indy and this”—he slapped Jethro on the chest—“is Jethro.  He may be going to jail tomorrow.”

He elbowed Indy in the side.  He didn’t need Leslie thinking he was a criminal or dangerous.

“And what did this Almighty do,” asked Callie.  “Forget to wear his ceremonial robe?”

“Nope.”  Indy grinned.  “He beat the crap out of a captain in the Protective Services.”

Callie tipped her head, studying Jethro.  Leslie’s mouth dropped open slightly before turning into a slight smile.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, run his tongue over those sharp fangs.  Instead, he asked, “May we join you.”

“Sure.”  Leslie blushed and scooted over, making room for him.

Indy pulled a chair up to the end of the booth and sat.  “This one here”—he tipped his mug at Jethro—“was like a beast.  It took twenty Guards to pull him off old Captain Cal.”

“Twenty is an exaggeration.”  He took a swallow of his beer as his gaze wandered over the female next to him.  She had long, straight brown hair.  She was of medium height but she was almost all legs.  He liked legs.

The waitress, a pretty Guard, came by and he ordered another round.  Indy ignored his comment and continued his story, regaling the females with the tale of the hunt, capture and beheading of the prisoners.  The waitress returned with their drinks and thanked him for the tip, her warm, brown eyes glancing down his frame appreciatively.  He looked away.  She wasn’t right.  Her eyes were too brown.  He stared into his beer.  That was the color they should be - lighter, more golden.

“Are you going to ask me to dance?” asked Leslie.  “Or did you come all the way over here to stare at your drink?”

He blinked.  He and Leslie were alone at the table.  Indy was dancing with Miranda and Callie was dancing with a male House Servant.  He must be really drunk because he hadn’t noticed they’d left.

“Sorry.”  He stood.  “Would you like to dance?”

“How sweet of you to ask.”  She smiled as she took his hand.

He grinned down at her as he led her onto the dance floor.  A sense of humor was always a plus.  He pulled her close, her lean body fitting nicely against his.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts brushing against his chest.  He lowered his head and inhaled.  She smelled nice, but it wasn’t right—no hint of the wind and wild in her scent.  He’d have to keep looking.  He didn’t want almost-right.  He wanted something else, someone else.  He sighed and his breath against her neck must have turned her on because her claws came out, gently scraping his shoulders and it was like a fire was lit, consuming him.  He wanted her.  He had to have her.  The claws.  The fangs.  He could get past her scent as long as she used her claws.

“Do that again.”  His lips against her ear made her shiver.  She ran her claws not as gently down his back.  He groaned.  “Take me home.  Now.  Please.”  His voice was thick and raspy.

She looked up at him as she slid her hand down his arm, claws gently raking, and took his hand.

“Do that again and we won’t make it out of the parking lot,” he warned.

She laughed and led him to the door.  “I live right across the street.”

“Thank Aralado,” he said.

CHAPTER 17:  HUGH

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THE NEXT MORNING HUGH was glad that Gaar and Tatania traveled with them because he still hadn’t figured out how to talk to Trinity or even how to look at her without wanting to beat something bloody.  It didn’t make sense.  It wasn’t like he’d never had a female not return his affections before, but this was different.  He couldn’t seem to get past the hurt and anger.  She was in love with Jethro.  Jethro!  He was barely a man and lately he’d been nothing but cruel to her.  Yet, she was choosing that boy over him.

Gaar stopped.  “This is where we part ways.”  He took Trinity’s face in his large hands.  “Be careful.  Patience.  Don’t forget, there’s a new Brush-Man territory ahead.”

She nodded.  “I hate it when they move.”

Last night, Gaar had made a few changes to the map.  Many of the predators were migrating.  The forest was over hunted and predators followed their prey.

Trinity turned to say goodbye to Tatania and Gaar grabbed his arm, pulling him aside.

“Be nice to her, or we’ll...talk when I get back.”  Gaar’s grip tightened, making Hugh’s arm throb.

“I’m always nice and if I’m not, I have my reasons.”  He’d had no excuse for snapping at her last night and they both knew it.  He was an adult.  He could handle rejection.

“Not a good enough one.  You hurt her and I can’t allow that.  Do it again and I’ll puncture your gut and feed you your intestines.”  Gaar’s lips curled upward, showing his fangs.  “Trust me.  It isn’t a pleasant way to spend your last minutes on this earth.”

Even though, he didn’t think Gaar was serious about killing him, the words flew from his mouth.  “She’s still in love with Jethro and he’s a danger to her and the rest of us.”  The kid was a friend of Conguise’s and could be turning into some type of crustacean-man like Scar.

“I was right.”  Gaar’s black eyes sparked like flint as he dropped his hold on Hugh’s arm.  “You’re smitten with her.”  He laughed, slapping Hugh on the back and almost sending him to his knees.  “I don’t envy you.”

Gaar walked over to Trinity and gave her a hug before he and Tatania disappeared into the brush as if made from mist.  One day, if he ever had a lab and the time, he’d study their blood, blending in with the surroundings could be a very valuable trait.

Trinity headed in the opposite direction from the Handlers and he trudged after her.  She wasn’t talking to him and that was fine.  Actually, it was preferable.  Their entire situation was better this way.  It would’ve been disastrous if he’d told her how he felt.  Even if she returned his feelings, which she obviously didn’t, it’d make fighting the war—making the decisions he was going to have to make—harder.  He already cared too much for her.  If she knew that, she’d use it to sway him and he’d end up making decisions based on emotions instead of strategy and logic.  Now, he wouldn’t.  Yep, it was better this way.

“Are you paying attention?”  She gave him a disgusted look.  “You’re getting loud again.  Watch where I walk and how I walk.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking,” he muttered as his eyes took in her firm butt and her long, long legs.

“I heard that.  You might as well speak up.  I’m not deaf like an Almighty.”

He was sick.  That was all there was to it.  That smart mouth of hers should be helping him get over her, but it wasn’t.  Instead, it made him want to kiss those lips until she forgot how to speak.  He cringed at a loud snap.  He’d stepped on a stick.  “Sorry.”

The breath caught in his throat as she spun around, her eyes snapping.  The sun behind her highlighted the reds and gold in her hair.  She looked like a fiery angel—a very angry angel.

“Pay attention.  You may not like watching every step I take but until you can walk quietly through the forest on your own, you have to do it.”  She poked him in the chest.  “So, stop daydreaming.”

He stared at her ass as she walked away.  She’d ordered, so he’d obey.  It’d probably drive him stark raving mad, but there were worse ways to go crazy.

The day wore on in an endless trip of silence.  Watching her walk for hours was not as much fun as he’d imagined.  His mind had wandered to places it shouldn’t.  Not only had that caused him to step in the wrong places but it’d also left him frustrated—physically because there was no alleviation in sight and emotionally because she’d never be his.

“Can you walk any slower?”  She glared at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll try if it’ll piss you off,” he mumbled.

Her eyes narrowed even more, but there was a slight twitch to her lips.  It seemed they were both comfortable with sniping at each other.  “Too bad, because we’re going to stop here for the night.”

“What?  It’s barely dusk.”  He’d hoped that by the time they camped for the night, he’d be too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

“The Bush-Man territory is up ahead.  We’re not going through there at night or even dusk.”  She began gathering sticks for a fire.

“Oh.”  He trailed after her, helping to collect firewood.  “Are you sure that they’re here?  Gaar might be wrong.”

She sent him a disgusted look.  She was right.  It was a stupid thing to say.  Gaar was never wrong about the forest.

“Right.  I meant there might not be that many or—”

“It only takes one to kill you.”  She walked back to where they were making camp and dropped her sticks.

“Are you sure we have to go through their territory?  Maybe, we could go around.”

“That’ll take days.”  She spun around and poked him in the chest.  “Maybe even a week.”

“Stop touching me.”  He dropped the wood and slapped her hand away.  If she didn’t, he was going to kiss her and it’d be all downhill from there.  They were alone and she was attracted to him and he was pretty sure he wasn’t honorable enough to care that she didn’t love him.

She gasped and stumbled back a step.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll never, ever touch you again.”  She pushed past him.

“Where are you going?”  He grabbed her arm.

“You need to stop touching me too.”  She dug her claws into his hand.

“Ouch!  You little shit.”  He dropped his hold and then quickly reached for her again but she dodged his grasp.  “You can cut me all you want, but I’ll follow you if—”

“I need to pee.  Is that okay with you?”

She was lying.  One of the first lessons in forest survival was leave as little scent as possible, especially near camp.  The next morning before leaving was fine, but not before bedding down for the night.  However, he was in no mood to call her on her lie.  They both needed time away from each other.  “Don’t be long.”

He bent and started working on the fire as she left.  Once he had a spark, he sat and fed it until the flames were devouring the approaching darkness.  He was tired—tired of wanting her and not having her and tired of his heart twisting every time she smiled because she’d never be his.

CHAPTER 18:  TRINITY

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TRINITY SAT DOWN ON a branch and let the tears come as she stared at Hugh through the brush.  She was far enough away that he couldn’t see or hear her, but close enough to protect him if needed.  She was furious with him, but she didn’t want him dead.  Injured?  Perhaps.  Beaten?  Maybe.  But not dead.

She replayed the last day through her mind, trying to figure out what she’d done to make him so mad.  Last night, everything had been going well.  He’d finally kissed her.  It’d only been a quick touch of his lips but she was sure if she hadn’t run off it would’ve been more.  She touched her mouth.  She’d wanted more.  She’d even kissed him.  Her fingers froze on her lips.  He’d acted differently after that.  Travis had liked it when she’d initiated some of their kisses, but maybe it was different with Almightys.

She stared at him through the darkening sky.  His shoulders were slumped and there were bags under his eyes.  Life hadn’t been easy for him lately.  She pulled her notebook from her backpack.  She flipped to the back, looking for an empty page.  She stopped, staring at her last drawing of Jethro.  She’d worked on it all night after she’d seen him at the Producer Camp.

Jethro was strong and healthy and gorgeous.  His eyes seemed to see into the forest, into her soul.  She flipped past a couple of blank pages and studied a drawing of Hugh.  She’d spent many evenings sketching him.  His image almost filled one of her practice sketch books.  She’d drawn each part of him separately, spending hours getting his eyes and lips and chest just right.  She turned a couple of pages.  Hugh was on every one.  Even when she didn’t plan on drawing him, he always ended up somewhere in her work.  It didn’t matter if she were sketching the forest, the city or even the Howling Hut, Hugh ended up there, as if her mind and hand couldn’t stop tracing his features.  She exposed her claw and skimmed over his face, careful not to smear the image.  In most of the drawings he had a slight smirk, like a secret joke between them.  Her eyes wandered back to the real male sitting a few yards away.  He was still staring into the fire although every now and then he glanced into the forest, probably looking for her.  His eyes were sad, not laughing like usual or exasperated like she often made him.  She pulled out her pencil and began drawing.

A little later, he looked back into the forest, eyes narrowed.  He was growing impatient.  Too bad.  She was going to finish this sketch.  Her pencil flew over the paper.  His chest was large, tapering at his waist, his arms muscular as they rested on his thighs.  His jaw was strong and his chin stubborn.  His lips were nicely shaped.  She touched her own mouth again.  What would a real kiss with him be like?  They were friends, or had been friends.  Would kissing him be like it had been with Travis—nice but a little disappointing?  She’d been nervous about kissing Travis, but not like with Hugh.  Just thinking about him made her skin tingle and her stomach flutter.

He stood, his eyes searching the forest again.  He frowned as he sat back down.  She put her pencil away.  The rough sketch was done.  She’d finish it later.  She had no intentions of letting him wander through the forest looking for her.

She dropped from the tree and headed toward their camp.  She wiped her eyes one more time and stepped out of the brush.  He glanced up, his gaze showing relief and then something else before he quickly looked at the fire.

She sat across from him and took off her backpack, pulling out bread and nuts.  She handed some to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

They ate in silence, both of them staring into the flames.  This was awkward and she hated it.  For the past few weeks they’d spent almost every evening together, talking long into the night.  Now, neither of them seemed to know what to say.

She finished her dinner and wiped her hands on her pants.  This was stupid and she was done with it.  “We need to talk.  I don’t know why you’re angry—”

“I’m not mad.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “I owe you an apology.”

She moved around the fire and sat next to him.  “I’m waiting.”  He did owe her an apology and she wasn’t going to let him get away without actually apologizing.

“Usually, when someone says they owe someone else an apology, it’s enough”—he glanced at her, a spark of irritation and amusement in his eyes—“but I’m not surprised you don’t feel that way.  You never make anything easy.”

“Life’s hard.”  She grinned at him.  This was better, normal, at least for them.

He grunted.

“Now, you sound like Gaar.”

He glanced at her again and after several moments he said, “I’m sorry.”

She waited but he didn’t say anything else.  “That’s it?  That’s your apology?”

“I said the words.”

“Yeah, but where’s the explanation?  I want to know why you were such a jerk.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dropping to her lips for a second.  “Too bad.  I don’t want to talk about it.”  He turned back to the fire.  “Accept the apology so we can move on.”

Her throat tightened.  It’d been her kiss.  He hadn’t liked it.  It felt like he’d slapped her and then she realized that this was his problem, not hers.  “I won’t apologize for kissing you.”  Her voice lowered.  “I’m sorry you didn’t like it and I won’t do it again but—”

“What are you talking about?”  He stared at her as if she were crazy.

“Everything was great until I kissed—”

“That’s not why I’m mad...I mean, I’m not mad, but...”  His eyes landed on her mouth again.  “Trust me, it wasn’t the kiss.”

Some of the pain in her chest lifted.  “You’re not angry because I...I kissed you instead of waiting for you to kiss me?”

“Araldo no!”  He paused a moment his eyes narrowing.  “Actually, I am.”

The pain was back, like Cack standing on her chest.  “But you said...do Almighty males not like it when females—”

“This has nothing to do with me being an Almighty.  This has to do with you being a flirt.”

CHAPTER 19:  HUGH

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“WHAT?”  TRINITY’S VOICE WAS loud, louder than Hugh had ever heard her in the forest.

He should stop, but he couldn’t seem to shut his mouth.  “You’re a flirt.”  He jabbed her shoulder.  “Just like your mom said.”

Her mouth dropped open a moment and then snapped shut.  He expected a slap to the face or something but she only stared at him, eyes wide and hurt.  This wasn’t working.  She was making him feel worse and she was the one at fault.  She’d used him.  It was clear she wanted no part of him, not even friendship.  She had drawings of everyone in her book but him.  There wasn’t one image of him.  Not one.

He needed distance from her, but instead of moving away he reached out and pulled her close until his lips were only a breath away from hers.  “Only a flirt would kiss one man while loving another.”

“I...I...”  Her large golden eyes were confused and a bit dazed as they kept glancing at his mouth.

He was going to kiss her again.  She obviously wanted him to.  Why should it matter that she loved Jethro?  He’d been with many women he hadn’t loved.  His gaze dropped to her breasts.  He could be her first.  Teach her the pleasures that could be had between a male and female.  She’d always remember him, even when she was married with children.  He dropped his hands and stood, stepping away from her.  She’d be married to someone else, raising someone else’s kids and he’d only be a fond memory.  The hurt rolled through him, hot and almost living.

She blinked a couple of times as she looked up at him.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That was it—the last straw for his stack.  “Liar.”  He strode to the other side of the fire and grabbed her backpack.

“Hey,” she jumped up but he blocked her with his back as he pulled out her notebook.

“I saw your drawings.”  He turned and waved the book in her face.  “All of them, not just the ones of the creatures.”  He flipped through the pages so angrily that some tore.  He stopped on an image of Jethro and held it out so she could see it.  “When you sit in your tent or in the forest all alone and draw these pictures of him, do you make up stories of the two of you living together in the woods, making babies and running free?”

“No.”  Her face flushed.

He was tired of this, all of it.  “I was wrong about you and that’s my fault.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Her eyes were wary and they should be.  He was about to strike back.  Give her a little of the pain she’d dealt to him.  He tossed her book at her.  “Remember when I said you took all the good qualities of the classes and none of the bad?  I was wrong.  You’re as faithless as the rest of the Servants.”

CHAPTER 20:  TRINITY

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“I AM NOT FAITHLESS.”  TRINITY was furious at Hugh for even suggesting that.

“Really?”  He moved toward her until there were only inches separating them.  “Then why did you kiss me when you’re—”

“I knew you were mad about that kiss.”  She poked him with her claw.  He was such a liar.

“That is not why I’m angry.”  His teeth were clenched and a muscle twitched in his cheek.  “You flirted with me.  You let me kiss you.  You made me think...”  He shook his head, as if clearing the words from his mouth.  “You still have feelings for Jethro.  Admit it.”

“I don’t feel anything for him.”  She backed away.

“Stop lying to me!  Stop lying to yourself.”

For once in her life, she was at a loss for words.  She wanted to explain that she’d drawn those pictures a long time ago, except she’d drawn one right after seeing him at the Producer Encampment.

“Nothing to say?  Figures.”  He turned and pulled his blanket out of his backpack.  “You never were good with the truth.”  He stretched out on the ground, his back to her.

She stood staring at him for a long time.  She’d hurt him and she had no idea what to do to make it better.  She didn’t want to like Jethro but she did.  She hadn’t meant to hurt Hugh, but she had.  When Hugh’s breathing eased and steadied with sleep, she sat down near the fire and opened her notebook.  She studied her latest picture of Jethro.  She had to get over him.  He was ruining her life.  Hugh was here and she liked him.  She really liked him.  She ripped the picture from the book and started to toss it into the fire, but her fingers wouldn’t let go.  She couldn’t just stop caring for Jethro.  She was sorry that it hurt Hugh but it wasn’t like they were bonded.  They’d barely even kissed.  She folded the picture and buried it in a small pocket deep inside her backpack.  She’d get rid of it when she was ready.  She grabbed her blanket and lay down, glancing once more at Hugh before rolling over.  He wasn’t her mate, had never even said he wanted to be.  It wasn’t his or anyone else’s business who she liked.

The next morning Trinity was tending the fire when Hugh woke.

“Good morning,” she said.

He grunted as he sat up and took the fruit and nuts she handed him.

She held back a sigh.  It was going to be a long day.  “We head into Brush-Man territory today.”  She tossed the last of her breakfast in her mouth and stood.  “You’ll need to—”

“Be quiet and follow you exactly.”  He stared at the fire.  “I know.”

She didn’t want to fight but it looked like that was the kind of day they were going to have because she wasn’t going to apologize.  She hadn’t done anything wrong.  Hugh had never said he liked her and even if he had, it wasn’t like he’d asked her to be his mate.

“How do you kill these Brush-Men?” he asked, not looking at her.

“Pretty much like everything else, a knife or spear or even a rock.”

“Are they fast, strong, vicious?  Tell me about them.”

“They’re fast when they move.”  At his frown she added.  “They’re ambush predators.  They blend in with their surroundings and wait for you to get close.  Then, they attack.  The small ones are very fast but they’re also very little and easy to kill.  They don’t attack unless there are a lot of them, but they’re smart.  If you see a couple of little ones and they rush off, don’t follow.  Ever.”

“I hadn’t intended on it, but why?”  He stood, shrugging his arms through his backpack straps.

“They set traps.  They’ll lead you into a group of them.”

“Smart little predators.”  He scratched the stubble on his cheek.  “What are they afraid of?”

“Other predators, I guess.”  She’d never thought about that.

“What about fire?”  He kicked a chunk of wood and embers sparked to life.  “They’re covered in what looks like leaves and twigs.  I’d think fire would be a major concern for them.”

“I don’t know.”  It was annoying how he came up with these ideas.  She, Gaar and Mirra had been dealing with the Brush-Men for years.  They were the experts and yet none of them had thought about using fire.  “I doubt fire will work.  Just because it looks like leaves and twigs doesn’t mean it is.  It’s probably flesh like we have.”

He grabbed a stick and began bringing the fire back to life.  “I don’t like to be burned.”  He glanced over his shoulder at her.  “Get two large sticks and we’ll wrap cloth around the top.  That’ll help keep the fire alive.”

She grabbed two branches, slicing off the sticks from the sides.  He cut strips from his blanket and wrapped a few around each stick.  He stuffed some of the leftover cloth in his pants pocket and handed her the remainder.

“What do you want me to do with these?”

“We can rewrap when the fire burns low.  We don’t know how large their territory is, do we?”

She shook her head.  Gaar hadn’t been sure and that was another worry.  Going through the forest with Hugh was dangerous enough, but going through a large Brush-Man territory with him was almost as bad as traveling through the swamp with him.  If there were high trees in the area, they’d travel by tree, but the Brush-Men lived in brush.  They didn’t like trees.  Trees offered an escape for their prey.

CHAPTER 21:  HUGH

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HUGH FOLLOWED TRINITY THROUGH the woods.  They’d traveled for hours and hadn’t seen anything.  The trees had become sparser the farther they’d walked, replaced by miles of brush.  The grasses were thick and long—in some areas as high as his waist but in most places only reaching his knees—and bushes as tall as him littered the plains.  It was getting late in the day and his arm ached from keeping his torch above his head so he didn’t set the brush on fire.  She’d extinguished hers earlier in order to conserve the cloth that was the fuel for the fire.

Lunch had long passed and the silence of the trip was wearing on him.  He missed her chatter.  He even missed arguing with her.  He’d gotten over his anger.  It wasn’t her fault she loved someone else.  It hurt, but he wasn’t mad.  It was better this way.  Really it was.  He needed to focus on the war and being involved with her would distract him.  His eyes dropped to her rear and wandered down her legs.  She stopped and he bumped into her.  Who was he kidding?  Just being near her distracted him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, expecting her to give him a lecture but she only shushed him as her ears shifted in one direction and then another.

“We’re being followed.”  She started moving again, more cautiously than before.

“How do you know?”  At her disgusted look, he added, “I believe you, but I’m trying to learn.  What do you hear?”

“Listen.”

There was nothing but the wind, no scurrying in the brush, no footsteps.  “I don’t hear anything.”  His stomach twisted.  It’d never work between them even if she didn’t love someone else.  He was a liability in her world.

“You hear it.  You just don’t know what it is.”  She glanced at him and her eyes were kind.  “Tell me anything you hear.  Anything.”

He tried but there was nothing.  “The wind, but that’s all.  I’m sorry.”  He’d understand if she loved a Servant or Guard or even a Producer—okay, maybe not a Producer—but Jethro...

“Good.  Listen to it for a moment.”  She started walking again.

He frowned at her back as he followed.  He’d heard the wind all his life.  How could she love Jethro?  The kid was a bigger liability than he was.  At least he wasn’t going to turn into some crustacean-creature.

She stopped.  “Now, what do you hear?”

He tried but he couldn’t force his hearing to get better.  “Nothing.  I told you.”  Until he discovered exactly what Conguise had injected into Jethro, she wasn’t going anywhere near the kid, no matter how much she loved him.  He almost gagged at the thought.  Jethro was a boy.  She needed...

“Exactly.  No wind.”

“What?”  He listened again.  “You’re right.  The wind is gone.  How does that—”

“Keep listening.”  She started walking again and then stopped.  She took another few steps and then stopped again, turning to face him.  “Do you understand?”

Every time they walked, the wind blew and when they stopped it stopped.  It didn’t make sense.  They weren’t moving fast enough to create wind.

“It’s the Brush-Men.”  She continued, picking up her pace a little.  “They’re following us.”

“Is that normal?”  He prayed it was normal but not bad normal.  The noise they made sounded exactly like the wind through brush.  It was amazing.

“Yeah, when they’re getting ready to attack.”

“Great.  Our lucky day.”  He pointed at her torch which she’d been using as a walking stick.  “Time to light it up.”  He touched the tip of his torch to hers.

“I hope it works,” she said as the flames flickered to life.

“Me too.”

“Stay close.”  She started walking again, increasing her speed to almost a lope.

The faster they went, the stronger the sound of the wind.  He kept glancing up, expecting to see storm clouds but the sky was blue and sunny.

“How far before we’re out of their territory?”  He’d never feared storms but his body interpreted this constant sound as danger, making him want to seek shelter in one of the bushes.  He was pretty sure that was exactly what the Brush-Men wanted.

“See the trees up ahead?  Like I said, they don’t like trees, so that’s probably where their territory ends.”

“It’s not that far.”  He lied.  It was quite a distance.  “If we keep moving at this pace, we’ll make it.”  He prayed he was right about that or the fire.  If something happened, this was his fault.  He’d insisted on going to the Stockers’ Village.

“Maybe.”  She glanced at him over her shoulder.  “The closer we get to the end of their territory, the more likely they’ll be to attack.”

“Why haven’t they already?”

“I don’t think there are enough of them to take us both down but have you noticed the wind-sound is getting louder?”

“Yeah, but that’s because they’re moving faster.  Right?”  He was pretty sure he was wrong by the glance she sent him.

“We aren’t moving that fast.  It’s louder because there are more of them.  Others are joining the hunt.”

“I hate the forest.  No, I hate Conguise.  Why would he create these things?”

She shrugged and began to jog.  He picked up his pace and something hit his leg.  It felt like a rock, but only if rocks stuck because it was clinging to him.  He glanced down and stopped.

A stick-like creature was wrapped around his thigh.  It was about a foot tall and impossibly skinny.  It looked like it’d been made of wooden bones covered in bark with a few leaves stuck to it.  It was amazing.  He shook his leg and it looked up at him.  Two large pinchers protruded from under its brilliant, blue eyes, but that was the extent of its face.  There was no skull or even the shape of a head.  It was just a long stick.  Its hands were the only thing besides its eyes that resembled what it had once been.  They looked exactly like a Servant’s hands without skin – only bones and claws.  He shook his leg harder and below the creature’s eyes the bark-like skin opened, displaying a mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth with extremely large fangs.  This thing was truly amazing.  Its organs must have shrunk, but they had to still be there.  Didn’t they?  It lowered its face toward his leg.  Conguise was crazy and sick for making these things, but there was no denying the man was a genius.  Something hit his other side, attaching to his arm and snapping him back to the present situation.  He needed to get these things off him.  The Brush-Man that clung to his arm was six inches long.  He grabbed it and yanked it loose.  It weighed nothing, as little as a small stick.  He flung it into the weeds.

“Shit!”  A shooting pain ran up his leg.  “The little bastard bit me.”  He slammed the bottom of his torch into the creature’s face, chipping off part of its head.  It squealed, a loud, piercing shriek, and dropped to the ground.

“Hugh!”  Trinity yelled and ran toward him.

“Stay back.”  Dozens of Brush-Men surrounded him.  The largest were about four feet tall and their bodies were thicker, like small trees instead of sticks.  The smallest were only a few inches, their legs and arms barely more than twigs.  They rushed him as a group, seeming to communicate with snaps and clicks.  He turned in circles, jabbing at them with his torch, the fire the only thing keeping them away.

A group of the Brush-Men skittered in her direction.  There was no way he was going to let them surround her too.  He unsheathed his knife and raced toward them, torch down and swinging.  They scattered from the fire, leaving him a path, but one of them was braver than the others and it jumped on him, wrapping its boney, little fingers around his waist.  He jabbed at it with his knife, slashing off pieces of the creature like kindling, but it only dug its claws in deeper.  It opened its mouth, tipping its head so it could bite his stomach as the others closed in on him.

“Hugh, run,” she screamed as she jabbed the torch and a spear at the Brush-Men surrounding her.

“Get out of here,” he yelled.  “I’ll catch up.”  It was a lie but she needed to be gone before he fell.  Another Brush-Man launched itself at him but he kicked it in the face.  He screamed as a searing pain ricocheted through his torso.  The Brush-Man on his side had buried its face in his stomach.  He brought the knife down, lopping off one of its arms.  It screeched, removing its teeth from his gut.  A yellow sap dripped from where its arm had been and the scent of pine surrounded him.  Pine trees were full of turpentine.

He didn’t even hesitate as he jabbed the flame into the creature’s face, making sure to touch the yellow blood.  The flame seared his skin and his arm trembled as his body twitched, trying to get away from the fire, but he kept the torch in place until the Brush-Man dropped away, howling as flames consumed its body.  It ran into the crowd of other Brush-Men, spreading the fire.  Their screeches rent the air.  He’d never heard anything like it.  It was high pitched and horrible, piercing his brain like tiny ice picks.  He ignored the pain and stomped on another Brush-Man before setting it aflame.  It screamed, adding its voice to the cacophony.  He kicked it toward the others, but they were all fleeing, many on fire.  “It worked!  My idea worked.”  He grinned as he turned toward Trinity and his heart tried to escape through his throat.  She was standing still, face pale with her hands covering her ears and her torch lying dead in the dirt.

“Are you hurt?”  He raced toward her.

“The sound,” she whispered, right before she bent over and vomited.

Some of the bigger Brush-Men hovered nearby in the safety of the grasses.  The fire wouldn’t keep them away forever.  They had to move.  He ducked, grasping her around the thighs and tossing her over his shoulder and ran.  He had to make it to the trees.

CHAPTER 22:  TRINITY

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“HUGH, PUT ME DOWN.”  TRINITY’S stomach couldn’t take much more of the jarring from his shoulder and she didn’t want to puke down his back again.

“Are you sure?  We’re almost there.”  His hand tightened on her thighs, holding her in place.

“Yeah.”  Since it wasn’t possible to die of embarrassment, she was fine.

He stopped and tipped her off his shoulder.  His hair was dripping with sweat and he was panting.  She wanted to crawl under a rock.  Not only had she puked all over him, but apparently she also weighed a ton.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”  He ran his hands up and down her arms.

She nodded, keeping her eyes downcast.  It was too humiliating.

“Then, let’s go.”  He intertwined his fingers with hers and they raced toward the trees.

As soon as they were a safe distance from the grassy terrain, they stopped.  She turned and listened, cringing at the distant sound of Brush-Men screams.

“What do you hear?”  He let go of her hand and pulled out another piece of cloth to feed the dying flame of his torch.  “Are they coming?”

“No.  They’re still screaming.”  She touched his arm, stopping him.  “Save that.  We have to go through there on our way back.”

“We’ll need more.”  He stuffed it into his pocket as he extinguished his flame on the ground.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”  Her eyes locked with his, and suddenly, a small sob broke from her lips.  “I couldn’t move.  It hurt so much.”

“Oh.  Hey, now.  You’re okay.”  He pulled her into his arms.

“We have to tell Gaar and Mirra.  If the Brush-Men realize they can immobilize their prey...”

“We’ll warn them and everyone else, but I doubt the Brush-Men can make that sound without actual pain.”

“But if they can...”  She trembled and his arms tightened around her as she burrowed closer, letting the tears come.  If she’d been alone, she’d have died.  The uninjured Brush-Men would’ve come back for her once they’d gotten over their initial fear of the fire and she wouldn’t have been able to do anything.

His hands caressed her back as he mumbled words of comfort.  She had no desire to move, except to get closer if that were even possible.  She was safe here in his arms, but he was still angry with her about the drawings and was only holding her because she’d failed.  She’d been weak and helpless, perfect prey.

She took a deep breath, savoring his scent for a second before pulling away.  She wiped the tears from her cheeks, even more embarrassed for breaking down and crying like a baby.  “We should get going.  The Stocker Village isn’t too far from here.”

“You good?”  He cupped her face in his hands.

“I’m fine now.”  She flushed.  “I...I was...”

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“Thank you for saving me.”  The words didn’t hurt as much as she’d thought they would.

His eyes locked with hers.  “Anytime.”

They started walking, the silence putting a distance between them.  She had to fix this.  He was...he was her best friend and more.  She liked him a lot, but she didn’t want to hurt him again and she would unless she could forget about Jethro.  She glanced at him.  Maybe, they could go back to how it was before he’d seen her drawings.

“I think we’re even,” she said.

“Not even close.  I still owe you...about a hundred or more.”  He looked at her.  “Although, I will count this as two since you puked all over me.”

“Sorry about that.”  Her face burned scarlet.

“It’s okay.”  He nudged her with his elbow.  “But I think we need to stop so I can clean up before we talk to the Stockers.”  He wrinkled his nose.  “Even I can smell this stink.”

“Over here.”  She led the way through the trees to a narrow stream.  The water was clean and not deep enough for River-Men.

“You can go first.”  He glanced around.  “I’ll wait here.”  He walked a few feet into the forest and turned around.  “Tell me when you’re done.”

She rinsed her mouth with river water and then picked some mint leaves and chewed as she washed and changed her clothes.  When she was done, she walked over to him and touched his shoulder.  He jumped, turning around and her eyes fell to his chest.  His shirt was burnt and bloody.  Brush-Men didn’t bleed red, so this was his blood.  “You’re hurt.”  She pushed up his shirt to see the wound.

“It’s fine.”  He shoved her hands away but she grabbed his wrist.

“We need to clean this now.”  She pulled him to the stream.  “You should’ve told me you were bitten.  Take off your shirt.  We need to bury it.”

He pulled the shirt over his head as she cut a strip of cloth off her blanket and dipped it in the water.

“You’re going to need a new blanket soon,” he said.

“Not if you stop getting hurt.”  She touched the cloth to his wound and he inhaled sharply.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“You’re lucky.  The punctures are deep, but you don’t have a chunk missing.”  She glanced up at him.  His eyes were dark, almost black, as he stared down at her.  “The Brush-Men usually don’t let go until they saw through the flesh and yank out a hunk.”  She skimmed the cloth over the red welts near the top of the wound.  “How did you get it off you?”

“Fire,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, Hugh.”  She couldn’t imagine how much that had hurt and yet he’d picked her up and carried her.  She bent, rinsing the cloth in the water as she blinked back tears.  She straightened and soothed the cloth over the burn and then the wound.  His skin was peppered with scars, some from her.  He’d been through so much and on top of everything, she’d hurt him.  She swallowed.  She had to get away from him and get herself under control.  “Done.  I’ll make some more yarrow paste while you wash up.”

She moved a few feet upstream from him and sat, pulling out her herbs and bowl.  She had no idea what she was going to do.  She couldn’t will away her feelings for Jethro, but the emotions she felt for Hugh were so much more.  He’d saved her numerous times.  He was her friend.  She couldn’t imagine going a day without seeing him.  She glanced at him and her mouth dropped open.  He was facing away from her and was naked, washing up in the stream.  Her eyes roamed up and down his body, lingering on his long, strong legs and butt.  He bent and grabbed his clean pants from his backpack.  She looked away, her face burning, as butterflies tickled her stomach.

“Is the yarrow ready?”  He walked over to her.  He was dressed except for his shirt.

“Ah, yeah.”  She glanced up at him, but her eyes kept darting to his bare chest.

“Can I have it?”  He held out his hand,

She stood and stepped closer to him.  “I’ll do it.”  There was no reason he couldn’t apply the salve to his wounds, but she wanted an excuse to touch him.

“I should do it.  I have another bite on my thigh.”  His voice was rough, ragged.

“I’ll save some for your leg.”  Her face heated.  He’d have to drop his pants for her to apply the poultice there and she wasn’t that brave.

She dipped her fingers into the cool paste and gently rubbed them over the wound, making sure to plaster the yarrow on the open cuts.  She got some more poultice and her fingers trailed over the burn.  His skin was warm and smooth.  Her hand drifted away from the injuries, exploring.  She flattened her palm over his heart.  It was beating as fast as hers.  She glanced up at him and his jaw was tense, like it’d been carved from rock, but his eyes were dark and hot like fire.  She wanted a kiss from him, a real kiss not some fleeting touch of lips.  It’d help her decide if they were meant to be together.  She’d thought Travis would be a perfect mate, but there’d been no spark when they’d kissed.  The blood hummed through her veins as she dropped the bowl of yarrow and moved her other hand to his chest.  He’d saved her life.  She needed to feel his arms around her again, but she was scared to initiate the kiss.  She skimmed her hands across his skin and stood on tip-toe, praying he’d get the hint and kiss her.  He grabbed her shoulders and she tipped back her head, leaning closer.

“Stop it.”  He shook her slightly.  “This is...we can’t...I don’t...”  He dropped his hands and stumbled away, his back stiff with anger.

She stared after him.  He didn’t want her.  She’d ruined her chance with him because she couldn’t let Jethro go.  She bent, grabbing the bowl and putting the rest of the paste on a leaf and placing it on the ground.  “Here.  For your leg.”  The words came out choked and broken.  She hurried a few feet downstream and began cleaning the bowl, her back to him so he wouldn’t see the tears that ran down her cheeks.  There was no way she was going to let him see how much he’d hurt her.

CHAPTER 23:  TRINITY

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HUGH AND TRINITY TRAVELED in silence the rest of the trip.  She should’ve never approached him.  She’d practically begged him for a kiss and he’d refused.  Now, he wouldn’t even look at her.  This was worse than what’d happened with Randy.  Her emotions tangled inside of her.  One minute she was ready to cry and the next she was furious with him for making her feel unwanted and disliked just like when she’d been growing up.  She couldn’t wait to get back to camp and away from him.  She moved out of the brush and stopped on the top of a hill.  The Stocker Village sat in the valley below surrounded by Harbor Point on one side and the forest on the other.

“This is a great location,” said Hugh.

“Shhh.”  She shot him a glare, but he was staring down at the valley.  “Their hearing is excellent.”

“I wish we’d been able to find a place like this,” he whispered.  He turned toward her, his eyes sparkling with excitement.  “If you were to hide from the Stockers where would you choose?”

“Right where we are.”  If he kept asking stupid questions, he’d make it easy for her to take out her anger on him.

“Oh.  Right.”  He grinned, seeming to have forgotten that earlier he’d almost run screaming from her.  “Why here?”

“First, we’re upwind of them.”

“But their sense of smell is worse than mine.”

“Sound carries on the wind too and I don’t think their sense of smell is as bad as everyone believes.  I’ve watched them.  They’re almost blind but they use their noses a lot.”

“But...“  He shook his head.  “Never mind.  One more lie.”

“I’m not sure that you were lied to about this.  When they first set up here, I spent a few weeks watching them with Gaar and Mirra.  Mirra hadn’t had Stocker in years.”  She glanced at him and he had a crooked grin on his face.  Most others didn’t like the fact that Mirra killed.  It scared them, but he seemed to accept the Tracker for who and what she was.  She held back a sigh as he wedged himself a little firmer into her heart.

“I’m glad I wasn’t there.  I’m not fond of Stockers, but I would’ve felt bad for the one she got.”

It had been brutal.  The small, male Stocker had made the mistake of wandering too far from camp.  At least, Mirra had made it quick.  “That’s how we know they use their sense of smell.  Even though Mirra was quiet, the others heard the scuffle and came looking for him.  Once they were in the area where he’d been taken, they followed his scent until they lost it in the trees.”

“I doubt that went over well.”

“We’d moved, but they knew something got their friend.  They didn’t know what and I don’t think they would’ve been able to distinguish the scent anyway.  They seem to have a hard time telling what smell belonged to what.  They knew the scent of their own kind, but not much else.  We watched for a few more weeks.”  Her eyes met his.  “Mirra liked the taste.”

“Poor Stockers.”  He grimaced.

“She has to eat too.”

“I know,” he said as he stretched.

She forced herself to look away from his chest.  He’d made it perfectly clear that they were friends and nothing else.  “We noticed they had a hard time remembering scents.  We started setting up tests for them.  We’d leave acorns, cakaonuts, and different kinds of fruit where they could find it and then we’d hide some.  If they ate the food and then caught the scent trail they’d follow it, but if we set up a trail the next day without first leaving the food where they could find it, they didn’t remember it was food.  They might follow the scent and they might not.”

“That doesn’t make any sense genetically speaking.  In order to survive a creature has to recognize food.”

“They seem to have adapted.  They set traps.”  She pointed at a snare hidden in the brush.  “So, be careful where you walk.  And their hearing is phenomenal.”  She nodded at the village below.  Several Stockers were huddled in a group.  “I think they heard us.”

“Good.  It’s time to have a chat with them anyway.”  He headed down the hill.

“What?”  She trotted after him.  “Are you crazy?”

“Possibly.”  He kept moving.  Soon, he’d be out from the cover of the forest.

“Stop.”  She grabbed his arm, her hand slipping down to entwine with his.  “You can’t just walk into their village.”

“I need to see if they’ll join us.”  He stared at their hands but didn’t pull away.

“They won’t.  They don’t like anyone but other Stockers.”

“I have to try.  The authorities won’t expect it and they’d be powerful allies.”  He slipped his hand from hers, a slight frown on his face.  “You should wait here, though.  Just in case.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”  She may be hurt and angry, but she wasn’t letting him walk into danger alone.

“If something goes wrong, I need you free so you can—”

“Save you.  You already gave me that speech once and—”

“I was fine.  You were attacked.”

“And that means I have to come with you.  For my safety, of course.”  She continued down the hill.  This wasn’t going to be fun, but she did enjoy out-manipulating him.

“That’s a load of crap and you know it.”  He caught up with her.

“And it wasn’t when you said it?”

“No.  You staying out of danger so you can help is logical.”

“Please.”

They continued bickering all the way down the hill.

“They know we’re coming,” he said.

The Stockers had formed into a group in the village.  All the young had been shuffled back inside the huts.  The adults had their noses up and were sniffing the air.

He stopped several yards away.  “We mean you no harm.  We’d like to speak with your leader.  ”

About twenty of the largest males headed in their direction.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she whispered.

“Me too.”  These things were big and ugly and he knew from experience mean.  “If things go bad, run.  Don’t wait for me.”

“That is also not going to happen.”  She raised a brow at him.  “I’ll never do that, so you should stop—”

“Can’t you, just once, do as you’re told?”  He stared at her, exasperation on his face.

“I do what I’m told, when it’s a good idea.  I can’t help it that you never have a good idea.”

“You’re a brat.”  He shook his head, but one corner of his mouth curved in a smirk.

She elbowed him in the side.  “Pay attention.”  His eyes immediately dropped to her rear and she hit him again.  “Not to how I walk.”

“Sorry.  I guess those words are ingrained now.”  He grinned but it slid from his face as the Stockers moved closer.  “All kidding aside, don’t wait for me.”

She shook her head, her hand near her knife.

The Stockers stopped a few feet from them, sniffing the air.  They were all huge, not tall but wide.  They were around five feet tall but almost as wide, and it was solid muscle.  They were all bald, or balding with large, bulbous noses and thick, black eyebrows that stretched across their foreheads.

“Who are you and what do you want?” asked the biggest Stocker, his eyes glittering with hatred.

“My name is Hugh Truent”—he held up his hands in a submissive gesture—“and I’m here to talk.  That’s all.”

“We have nothing to say to an Almighty,” said the leader.

A few of the group snorted and shifted, their feet digging at the dirt.

“What’s your name?”  He held out his hand.

The Stockers grumbled and snorted, communicating with one another.  She shrugged at his look.  She didn’t understand Stocker grunts.

The male stared at Hugh’s hand as he hit his own chest.  “I’m Ritco.”

“Nice to meet you.”  Hugh took a small step forward, keeping his hand extended.

“What does the Almighty want?”  Ritco continued to stare at his hand.

“I want to talk.”  He dropped his arm to his side.  “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“We heard you escaped death.  Wouldn’t have happened if we were hired to kill you.”  Ritco sent a superior glance at his companions who snorted their agreement.  “We also heard that you say we’re all the same.  All equal.”

“That’s true.  The authorities want to keep that a secret but we’re all genetically similar.”

“We also heard they come for you.”

“Who’s coming for him?” asked Trinity.

Ritco’s eyes fell on her, squinting.  “Who are you?”  He moved a little closer, his large, flat nose quivering.

Hugh stepped in front of her.  The Stocker shoved Hugh out of the way.  He stumbled and righted himself.  She grabbed his arm before he could do something stupid like draw his weapon.  Fighting a group of Stockers wouldn’t be easy.

“It’s okay.”  She squeezed Hugh’s arm, warning him to let it go.  “Ritco only wants to get my scent.  Right, Ritco?”

“Don’t recognize your scent.”  The Stocker grunted as he sniffed her up and down.

Hugh’s jaw tightened and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

She shook her head slightly.  The Stocker’s sniffing was unnerving, but it wasn’t as bad as when she’d stood still for the Trackers to smell her.  She was faster than the Stocker and could avoid his attack if necessary. “I’m a House Servant.”

“Argh, no use for House Servants.  Servants work for Almightys.”  Ritco stepped away from her.

“She’s also—”

Her claws dug into his arm.  “Working for him.”  She tipped her head toward Hugh.

He glanced at her hand on his arm.  “Yes.  She does whatever I command.”  She dug her claws in farther.  “Ouch.”  He jerked his arm away from her, rubbing it.  There were tiny drops of blood on his sleeve.

The Stockers laughed, loud and boisterous.

“Servants.  They never obey Almighty masters.”  Ritco moved back by his group.  “What does the Almighty and his Servant want with Stockers?”

“I believe we can help each other.”

“We don’t need help from Almightys.  Almightys leave us alone and we like it that way.”

“But the authorities aren’t going to leave you alone, not forever.”

The Stockers grumbled and snorted again, their eyes narrowing on Hugh.

“Not me.”  He held up his hands again.  “If you want me to go, I’ll go, but the others won’t listen.  They won’t care what you want.  To them, you’re one of the lower classes.  Only a Stocker.”

“We make them listen.”  Ritco pulled a large knife from his belt.

“We should go.”  She grabbed Hugh’s arm again.

“Not yet.”  His eyes met Ritco’s.  “We’ll leave if Ritco tells us to, of course, but I want to explain to him that the Almightys are coming like he heard, but they won’t come only for me.  They’ll come for everyone.  Maybe not at first, but do you really think they’ll let you live in peace without their rule?”

“We’ll make them.”  Ritco’s small eyes narrowed.  “Leave now, High Hugh Truent and never come back.”  He twisted his knife, moving it closer to Hugh.  “Or we kill you.”

“As you command”—he bowed his head and backed away—“but if you change your mind and want to join us, find me.  Take care and beware any Almightys or Guards who come your way.  They mean only harm.”

He turned and headed toward the forest.  Trinity followed, continuing to look over her shoulder at the Stockers.

She stopped once they were concealed by the trees.  “They’re heading to the village now.  They can’t see us here.”

“You didn’t have to draw blood.”  He was staring at his arm.

“You deserved that.”  She mimicked his voice.  “She does whatever I command.”

“I thought that was a nice touch.  Arrogant like an Almighty should be.  Why didn’t you want them to know you were part Producer?”

“Everything eats Producer.”  She started walking.

“Oh.  Right.  I forgot about that.”  He followed her.

“That’s because you’re not Producer.”

CHAPTER 24:  TRINITY

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TRINITY TRUDGED THROUGH THE forest, Hugh behind her, quiet like he’d been for hours.  It was getting on her nerves.

He’d grown silent as soon as they’d left the Stockers’ Village.  She’d tried to get him to banter with her, but one syllable answers had been all he’d been willing to give, reminding her more and more of Gaar, except her and Gaar’s relationship was easy.

As soon as they’d approached the Brush-Men territory, she’d broken out in a cold sweat.  Being unable to move was terrifying, especially in a forest filled with predators.  Hugh had lit his torch and handed her two tiny pieces of cloth, instructing her to stick them in her ears to help block the sound of Brush-Men screams.  With her hearing muffled, she’d been jumpy and nervous, expecting Brush-Men to charge out at them from behind every bush, but the only sign of the creatures had been trails burned through the high grasses and a few charred corpses which looked like small, abandoned campfires.

As soon as they were out of the Brush-Men territory, she’d removed the cloth from her ears, taking the first deep breath in hours.  Now, they were miles away and things were normal, except for Hugh’s silence.

She stopped at a large cakaonut tree.  “We should fill up.”  This would give her a chance to talk to him.  She hated this tension between them.  So embarrassing or not, she was going to have to try and explain her drawings and her feelings for Jethro.

He started gathering the nuts from the ground.

“Those may be wormy.”  She climbed up to a branch loaded with nuts and shook it.

“Hey!  Watch it.”  He covered his head with his arms as cakaonuts rained down on him.

“Sorry.”  She giggled.  She hadn’t meant to hit him, but it did kind of serve him right.  He’d been a jerk ever since he saw the pictures.  Well, except when he’d saved her life.

He glanced up at her as he gathered the nuts.  “You just can’t stop lying can you?”  The words were said in jest but they were laced with the sting of hurt.

“We need to talk about the other night.”  She picked nuts, dropping them into her backpack.

“No, we don’t.  It’s done.  Over.  Forget it.”  He moved a few feet as he continued collecting the fresh cakaonuts.  “I have.”

“Really?  Is that why you’ve barely said a word since leaving the Stockers’ Village?”

“Let it go, Trinity.”  He ran his hand through his hair again.  “Please, let it go.”

“No.  You have no reason to be mad at me.”  She shook the branch again and froze.  A large, male Cold Creeper slithered through the brush toward them.  “Hugh.”  She kept her voice calm.  Panic wouldn’t do either of them any good.  She dug in her backpack and pulled out a rope, tying it around the tree and letting the rest drop down as she turned back around.  “I need you to come up here now.”

“What?”  He straightened and his eyes widened when he saw the rope.

“Now.”  Her voice was a harsh whisper.

He stuffed the handful of nuts in the bag, his hands trembling slightly.

“Forget the food and get up here.”  She repeated as she pulled out a spear.

“I’m not leaving this.”  He flung his backpack over his shoulders and grabbed the rope, climbing quickly.

She stared into the forest.  There was at least one more adult Cold Creeper in the bushes.  “Hurry.”

He was getting better at this.  It only took him a few moments to climb up next to her.

“What’s coming?”  He scanned the brush.

“You tell me.”  She scooted closer to him as she pulled the rope up and placed it over a branch.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“You’d know if you practiced more.”  It was important that he be as prepared as possible out here.  She didn’t want anything to happen to him.

“I’ve been a little busy.”

“You’re not busy now.”

“Fine.”  He shot her a disgusted look.  “Let me see.  I’m supposed to do what exactly?”  He squinted, his eyes searching.

“Close your eyes.”  She covered his eyes with her hand, his lashes tickling her palm.  “Keep them closed.”  She moved her hand away.  “What do you smell?  Breathe deep.”  She inhaled, catching his scent.  It was clean and male—musky and strong but not unpleasant.  “Concentrate.”  She said it to remind herself more than him.

He inhaled deeply.  “The air is cool. Crisp.”

“Good.  What else?”

“How is that good?”  He frowned.  “It doesn’t tell me anything.  Even I know there’s air in the forest.”

Her lips twitched.  There was something definitely wrong with her because she found him especially amusing when he was being an ass.  “Keep trying.”

“If you say so.”  He didn’t sound like he thought much of this exercise.

“Believe it or not, I know what I’m doing.”  She nudged him.

He opened his eyes and stared at her.  “I know you do and I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.  He was driving her crazy.  One second he was snapping at her and calling her a flirt and the next he was so sweet.  “Close your eyes and try again.  Hurry.”  The Cold Creepers were getting closer.  Soon, his lesson would be over.

He shut his eyes and inhaled again.  “There’s mustiness from the cakaonuts on the ground.”

“Go on,” she said.  He was almost there.  Her hand hovered above his arm, afraid to touch him.

He turned his head toward her.  His lips were only inches away.  She couldn’t take her eyes from his mouth and then he turned away.

“I also smell dirt.  Earth.  Strong, like it rained and someone dug a hole.

“That’s it.”  She didn’t think as her hand dropped onto his arm, squeezing slightly.

He opened his eyes, staring at where she touched him.

“Sorry.”  She snatched her hand away.  Her pride couldn’t take him yelling at her again.  “Now, you need to identify what that scent is.”  She pointed toward the brush below.  “Look.”

“Cold Creepers,” he whispered as two adults crawled from the bushes.  “They’re amazing.”  He leaned forward to get a better look.  “I’ve only seen them dead and skinned.”  He pointed.  “Look at their heads.  I’m sure they used to be something else...Guard probably from the size.”

She pulled a spear from her quiver.

He glanced at her.  “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”  She had the spear aimed and ready to throw, as she mentally prepared herself.  She loved tracking creatures through the forest, but she never liked taking a life.  It was probably the Producer in her that balked at killing and the House Servant that loved the chase.  The opposing sides of her nature never fully meshed.

“Don’t.”  He snatched the spear.  “Aren’t we safe up here?”

“Yeah, but we’re also stuck until they leave.”  She reached for her spear but he moved it to his other side.  She wasn’t going to fight him for it, at least not while they were in the tree.  She pulled another one from her quiver, sending him a disgusted look.

“We have time.”  He stared back at the Creepers.  “They’re just hungry.”

She sighed and sat down.  She didn’t want to kill them anyway.  She often saw Adam’s eyes in the creatures before she dealt the death blow.  The way he’d cried and looked to her for help as he’d been taken away.

“Are they always that big?” he asked.

“Sometimes.  The full-grown adults are usually about that size, but that one is really fat.”  She shifted to get a better look.  “Strange, with food being so scarce.”

“She’s not fat.  She’s pregnant.  Look.  Most of the weight is in her stomach.”

“I should kill them.”  She glanced at him.  His eyes were bright with excitement.  This must be the scientist side of him, all eager to learn.

“Don’t,” he whispered.  “Please.  There’s no reason.”  His eyes met hers.  “I’ve been responsible for too much death already.”

“And Mirra says I have a soft heart.”  She put her spear away.

The male Cold Creeper glanced around, watching for danger as the female ate.

“I wonder if Conguise knows his creations are reproducing.”  He stared down at the Cold Creepers.  “He has to be stopped before he creates something that kills us all.”

She refused to think about that.  If he were right, there was no telling what Conguise might set loose out here.  “Those two would kill you in an instant.”

The male used his feet to gather nuts in a pile for the female.

“It seems wrong to kill the female and her young, wiping out so much life with one spear.”  He studied the weapon in his hand.  “How are you doing with the bow and arrow?”

She didn’t want to think about that either, but at least he was talking to her.  “Not great.  I’m having a hard time hitting my target.”

“So, the queen of all weapons is having trouble.”  He handed her the spear, smirking.

“I never said I was an expert with all weapons.”  Being trapped up here with him for hours was starting to seem like a very bad idea.

“You’ve implied it.”  His tone was beleaguered as he sat down next to her.  “I’ve been thinking about your idea of having Leena help you.”

She braced for the lecture.  It served her right.  She had wanted him to talk to her.

“It’s a good idea, but you need to expand on it.”  He turned toward her.  “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.  It’s only that...you don’t compliment me—”

“I compliment you more than I should.”  His eyes dropped to her lips for a second.  “I can’t seem to help it.”

“We should talk about what happened the other night.”

“Unless you’re going to start telling me and yourself the truth, we have no reason to discuss it.”  He faced the Cold Creepers.  “I’ll talk to Bo when we get back.  He can help you train the Guards.  He was in the Protective Services so he’ll be able to give you some inside information on how their soldiers are trained.  You can pick your own Grunt and Producer to help.”

“A Grunt and a Producer to lead training?”  She laughed.  “None of them are doing well enough to take on the role of teacher.”

Both Cold Creepers looked up.  The female moved back toward the brush as the male sniffed, circling the tree.

“Are you sure we’re safe up here?” he asked.

“Yeah.  Probably.”

“Probably?  Why am I surprised?”

“They can climb but I’m pretty sure those two are too big to make it all the way up here,” she said.

“Pretty sure.  That’s lovely.”

“I can kill them if I have to.”

The male sniffed around the tree but didn’t try and climb.  After a few minutes the female went back to eating.

“No reason to kill them yet.”  He glanced at her.  “Back to training.  You’re looking at it all wrong.  Grunts and Producers will never be fast like Servants and Guards, but they have their own skill sets.  Their brute strength is one of them.  Teach them how to use that in battle.”

“I...I don’t know how that can help if they’re slow.”

“Sure you do.  If you encountered a large, slow predator what would you do?”

“Run.”

“What if you couldn’t?  What if you had to fight?”

She’d never thought about it that way.  “I guess I’d look for its weakness and make sure it didn’t catch me or hit me.”

“Okay.  Great.  Now, you need to think backwards.  If you were that large, slow predator, how would you catch your prey?”  He paused a minute, waiting for her to say something, but she had no idea.  “You had issues with the other kids at camp.”  He prodded.

“Yeah, but that’s because I couldn’t let them see how fast I was and it was seldom only one of them.  The times I had problems was when there was a group of them.”  He nodded slightly and she grinned.  “That’s it.  If they work as a group...”

“Exactly.  They don’t have to be fast.  You need to expand on your training techniques.  Teach the groups to work together.”

“If we used the Producers and Grunts to protect...”  Her mind drifted to how she could best use the classes, intertwining them together and then she frowned.  “They still need to learn basic skills or they’ll never survive in the forest.”

“You have help.  Delegate the work.”

She could write up plans for Leena and Bo and the others.  They could take over the training of the groups.  Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the prejudice many of the others had against her.

They talked for hours about how to best implement the new strategies, both seeming to forget the hurt and anger from the past few days.  They picked nuts from the tree and ate dinner, the Cold Creepers still feeding below them.

“I think we’re going to have to camp here for the night,” she said.

“Up here?  We’re at least fifteen feet off the ground.  I can’t sleep up here.”

“You’ll be fine.”  She untied the rope from the tree.  “Lean there.”  She pointed to a thick part of the trunk that had other branches nearby.

“You know, I’m going to fall.  Is that your plan?”  He wedged himself into the spot she’d suggested.

“If you do, try and land on your head.”

“Ha, ha.”

“This will keep you from falling.”  She moved over by him, holding the rope.

“Do you have more rope?”

“Please, this is plenty long enough.”

“I meant for you.”  He pushed her hands away.  “Use that on yourself.”

Her stupid heart softened a bit.  Why did his little acts of chivalry affect her so much?  He was only being kind.  It didn’t mean anything, but he had kissed her...and then he’d called her a flirt and had refused to kiss her.  She had no idea how he really felt and it was aggravating beyond belief.  “I don’t need it anymore.”  She leaned forward.  “Raise your arms.”  The heat from his body soaked into her.  Too bad they couldn’t keep each other warm tonight.  It was going to get cold.

He lifted his hands above his head, his eyes never leaving her face as she wrapped the rope around him and the tree, her hands and breasts brushing softly against his chest with each circle.  She refused to meet his gaze, but she couldn’t stop her heart from racing.  He’d probably call her a flirt for this too.

“There.  Safe and sound.”  She tied the rope in the front.

“Thank you.”  His eyes dropped to her lips for a moment and then down to the Cold Creepers.

The male looked up at them every so often.  He ate a little but spent most of his time gathering piles of nuts for the female.

“Do you see how he always stays between her and us?”  He glanced at Trinity.  “He’s keeping her safe.”  He looked away and mumbled, “And she’s not complaining.”

“Nice try, but I heard you.”  She made a face at him.  “I promise.  If I’m ever pregnant, I’ll let you protect me.”  As soon as the words were out, her face heated.  That was a job for her mate.

His head snapped toward her and his eyes were a brilliant blue in the darkening night.  “I’ll hold you to that promise.”  His gaze lingered on her mouth a moment before he cleared his throat and looked away.

She stared at him, unable to speak.  Was he saying he wanted her as his mate?  That’d explain why he was so hurt, but she’d been wrong before about why males did things.  She needed him to tell her.  She wasn’t going to guess and make a fool of herself again.

He ran his hands up and down his arms.  “It’s getting cold.”  He grabbed his backpack and pulled out his blanket.  There wasn’t much left after using it as fuel for their torches.  He used the little he had to cover his chest.

She pulled out her blanket.  “I’d offer to share but I wouldn’t want you to think I’m flirting.”  She tried to make it sound light but his words had hurt and she wasn’t good at hiding her emotions.

“I’m sorry about that.  I didn’t mean it.”

“Really?”  She studied him.  He seemed sincere, but he was good at lying.

“Yes, really.  Your mother could never be right.”  He smiled, all boyish charm.

“I’m serious.  Do you think I’m a flirt and as faithless as a Servant?”  She couldn’t help it if she liked him and Jethro.  She wasn’t bonded with either of them.

“I don’t think you’re faithless.”

“A flirt?”

He rested his head against the tree and muttered.  “This is one of those times when I should lie.  I know I should, but for some reason, I can’t.”  He turned and looked at her.  “It’s one of my major flaws.”

She raised an eyebrow.  He wasn’t going to squirm out of this with humor and charm.

He took a deep breath.  “Yeah, I think you’re a bit of a flirt, but it’s normal for girls your age to be like that.”

“Girls my age?”  She’d thought they’d gotten past that.  “I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were.”  He tried to turn toward her but couldn’t because of the rope.  “Damn, this thing’s tight.”

“You’ll be thankful for that when you fall asleep.”  She leaned against the tree, tucking her blanket around herself.

“Come on, Trinity.  Share your blanket with me.  It’s freezing.”

“You should’ve thought about that when you called me a flirty child.”

“That’s not what I said or meant.  Believe me, I know you’re not a child, although you’re acting like one.”

“Funny how you always say I’m acting like a child when I don’t do what you want.”

“That’s not true.”

“Now, who’s lying?

“I’m not in the mood for this.  I’ve told you before what I thought of you.  Do you really need me to repeat it?”

She didn’t move.  His words had been so sweet.  “Not if you don’t want to.”  Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I don’t.  Not at this moment.”  He settled back against the tree and stared into the forest.  “I guess we’ll both freeze.”

“I guess so.”

A long time later, he said, “I’m sorry I hurt you.  I’d say I didn’t mean to, but I did.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “Those pictures of Jethro bothered me.”

“Why?”  She needed him to say the words, tell her that he liked her as more than a friend.

He turned toward her, his face a mask.  “You tell me.”

“I...I don’t know.”  She held her breath.

“Me either.”  He stared back into the forest.  “Even though I meant to hurt you, I’m sorry I did.  I was angry and I took it out on you.”  He swallowed and glanced back at her.  “I don’t think you’re a flirt, not in the way you think and Araldo knows I don’t see you as a child.”

She flushed.  That was good because she had adult thoughts about him too.

“I know it wasn’t smooth, but that’s the best apology I have.  My brain is half frozen.”  His eyes sought her out in the darkness.  “Please come over here and...let’s keep each other warm.”

She moved to his side and he lifted his cover as he wrapped his arm around her.  She piled her blanket on his and snuggled against his chest.  “I like that.”

“What?”  He murmured against the top of her head.

“What you said.  That we’d keep each other warm.  It’s nice.  It reminds me of...”

When she didn’t finish, he asked, “Of what?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”  He smiled against her hair.

She turned her face into his chest breathing in his scent.  There was no way she was going to tell him that it’d reminded her of her parents.  Through every hardship, her mom and dad always kept each other warm.  That’s what she wanted.  She skimmed her hand across his chest and wrapped her arm around him.  Maybe, she’d found someone who’d always keep her warm and who she could warm as well.

CHAPTER 25:  HUGH

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IT WAS LATE WHEN Hugh and Trinity arrived back at camp.  He’d convinced her that they couldn’t stop to sleep because he needed to get back to implement his plan which was half of the truth.  The other half was that he didn’t think he could handle holding her another night.  She was like a drug.  The more time he spent with her and the more he touched her, the more he wanted.  This had to stop.  He had a war to win.  He’d be leaving soon and no matter what she said she still had feelings for Jethro.

Jackson and Bo strode toward them.

“Any other attacks?” he asked.

“No, but we sent a few Servants to keep an eye on the army.”

“Good.”  He headed for his tent.  “I’ll want an update on their location.”  He stopped at the doorway.  “Trinity, are you coming?”

“In a minute.”  She stood where they’d been a few moments ago.

“I need you.”  That was an understatement.

Jackson choked back a laugh.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the Guard.  “I need help with the map.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”  She darted across the camp and into the forest.

“Where are you...You little fool.”  He headed off after her.  She had to stop taking off by herself.  He was going to throttle her when he caught her.

Tim came out of his tent.  “She’ll be fine.  Gaar and Mirra are here.”

Hugh stopped in his tracks.  “Already?  How is Mirra?”

Tim shrugged.  “Seems the same to me.”  He patted Hugh on the shoulder.  “Thanks for going with her to find Gaar.  I hate it when she’s running around out there alone.”

“Ah, yeah.  You’re welcome.”  He turned and headed to his tent.  He couldn’t discuss Trinity with her father.  The last few days had been torture.  He’d set out ready to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him and had ended up being eviscerated by her instead.  Holding her last night hadn’t helped.  If Tim even suspected they’d slept in each other’s arms, his friend would either kill him or make him marry her and honestly, he wasn’t sure which would be worse.  No matter how much he cared for her, he wasn’t going to be tied to a woman who loved another man.

He entered his tent followed by the two Guards and Tim.  “I have a plan.”  He spread the map out on the table.

Trinity came into the tent with Gaar and Mirra.  Bo’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the Tracker.

“Fear smell good.”  Mirra’s eyes fell on the nervous Guard and she licked her lips.

“Mirra.”  Gaar’s voice was a warning.

“Gaar found the Trackers right away.  He was able to give them all their shots.”  Trinity ran her hand down Mirra’s arm.  “Mirra wanted to come back and see me.”  She smiled at the Tracker who patted her head.  “Gaar thought it’d be best if he joined her.”

Hugh nodded his thanks to Gaar since Mirra was still looking at Bo like he’d make a tasty treat.

“But, we’ll be leaving soon,” said Gaar.  “I need to find Tatania and Mirra should get back to Nirankan.”

“You look good, Mirra.  The pregnancy seems to be going well.”  He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to Trinity.

“Babies strong.  Babies kick.”  Mirra rubbed her belly.

He’d love to feel that, but was pretty sure the Tracker would remove his hand from his wrist if he tried.  He glanced at Trinity again and an image of her heavy with his child almost made his knees buckle with longing.  He couldn’t think about that.  Not now, anyway.

“What are your plans?  The Almightys are heading our way,” said Jackson.

“Where are the Almightys and their soldiers now?”  He turned to the map.

The others situated themselves around the table.  They were all squeezed tightly together with Trinity on his right.  Her thigh brushed his and her face heated.  He took a slight step back and she moved forward.  Mirra prowled along the perimeter of the tent, sniffing and poking around in everything she saw.

“Our last update was yesterday morning and they’re here.”  Bo pointed to a spot on the map not too far from where the Almightys had killed Ranger’s team.  “They’ve set up base camp but teams of them are searching in this direction.”

“Killing Ranger and his team was a message to us, but they won’t do that again.  They’ll need to capture as many of the escapees as possible.  It’ll make good headlines and it won’t alienate the Almightys who are on the fence about how the other classes are treated.”  He leaned forward and his hand brushed against Trinity’s hip.  She flushed and he shifted away, bumping into Gaar.  “Sorry.”

Gaar grunted.

“We need to move our teams.”  His fingers trailed over the map.  “This team should relocate to here.”  He pointed to the Stocker Village.

Mirra had wandered over by them.  “Stockers live there.”  She rubbed her belly.  “Mirra like Stocker.”  She used her long claw to tap a section of the map very near Hugh’s finger.  “Mirra kill Stockers but Stockers kill you Guards.”

It took everything he had not to pull his hand away from the sharp claw.

“After the last meeting, we warned the troops to stay away from the dangerous areas on the map,” said Jackson.

“We need to send someone to tell them the plans have changed.  We’re going to use the forest to protect us.”

“Forest kill.  Forest no protect,” said Mirra.

“That’s suicide,” said Bo.  “I won’t send Guards—”

“I’m not explaining this well.”  He moved away from the table and began pacing.  He was right about this.  He knew it.  He faced Mirra.  “You use the forest for protection all the time.  Right?”  He stopped, looking to Mirra.

The Tracker bared her teeth at him.  She didn’t like to be contradicted.

He needed to be more diplomatic.  “You’re absolutely right.  The forest does kill but it can also protect.”  He waved his hand around the room.  “We’re using it right now to hide.”

They all stared at him in silence and he started pacing again.  It made sense in his head but it was like pieces of a puzzle floating together but not connected.  “Give me a minute.”

Mirra began poking around the tent again.  The others huddled near the table as she prowled the outskirts.  That was it.  “Look.  Mirra is a predator.”

There were nods and grunts of agreement.

“Yet, she is also a friend.”

Mirra shot him a look that said she was clearly not his friend.

“Maybe not a friend to all of us, but she’s choosing not to kill us right now.”  He shot the Tracker a grin and she lifted her shoulders in a very slight shrug.  He moved back to the table.  The area next to Trinity was still open.  She’d kept the others from shifting together and absorbing his space.  He tamped down his joy.  Her actions meant nothing.  If Jethro were here, she’d have saved the place for the boy, not him.

“We need more sentries, not less in these areas.”  He pointed on the map.  “Here, here...”

“That’s right next to all the places I warned you about,” said Trinity.

“I know.”  He smiled into her narrowing eyes.  “And thank you for telling us about them.”

“If you put them in those locations, they’ll have more to worry about than the Almightys,” she said.

“Precisely.  You took me to one of the River-Men swamps, the Stockers’ Village and through a Brush-Man territory.”  He enlarged the circle for the newly discovered Brush-Man area.  “If we put our teams here and here, they’ll each have at least two areas of escape.”

“Hugh, you’re going to have to explain this again.” Jackson glanced around the table.  “I don’t think we’re quite getting it.”

His eyes landed on Gaar.  “If I were in the forest being chased by a Cold Creeper and a Tracker—”

“Tracker kill you,” said Mirra.

Trinity snickered.  He ignored both of them.

“Which should I worry about the most?”

“The closest one,” said Gaar.

“That’s not what I meant—”

“The present threat is the most dangerous,” said Trinity in a condescending tone.

“What I’m trying to say is sometimes a prey is better off being chased by two predators at once.”

“You’ve obviously never been the prey,” she said.

There were times, like now, when he had no idea why he was attracted to her.

“I think I understand what he’s saying.”  Gaar turned to her.  “When you were being hunted by the Guards after you first escaped.”

Her eyes flew to Jackson who was blushing slightly.

“You had to pick between the unknown threat in the forest and the known threats of the River-Man and the Guards.  You chose the unknown and were rescued by Mirra.”

“Mirra isn’t going to save all the Guards and House Servants,” she said.

“Mirra no save any.”

“Of course not, but what Hugh’s saying is that one predator, Mirra, helped you escape the other predators,” said Gaar.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a predator,” said Jackson.

“You were going to take me back to camp where they would’ve killed and eaten me.  How would you label someone who was going to do that?”

“You two can talk about that later,” said Hugh.  “What we need to do is to teach our troops how to get in and out of the danger zones as safely as possible.”  He looked at Trinity and then Gaar.  “You know the forest better than anyone.  You know the best ways to traverse those areas if you have to.”

“Yeah.”  Gaar scratched his chin.  “It won’t be easy but it’s possible.”

“I still don’t understand how this is going to help us with the Almightys,” said Bo.  “All I see is more danger for our teams.”

“Let me explain.”  Hugh pointed to a spot on the map near the Stocker Village.  “If we have a team here and they see the Almightys’ Guards patrolling the area, they should observe to see which way they’re headed.  If the army is going away from us, let them be, but if they’re heading in our direction or if they get too close to our sentries we should lure them into one of these danger zones.”

Bo’s face lit up with a smile.  “And suddenly, the predators are fighting our battle for us.”

“Exactly,” said Hugh.

“Brilliant.” Trinity’s shoulder brushed against his as she ran her long, thin finger across the map.  Her hand bumped his and she smiled at him.

He felt the contact zip through his body and with her smile directed solely at him, it was a potent thing.  Her lips seemed to call him forward.  He leaned toward her a fraction before catching himself.  They were in a room with her father and Gaar and Mirra.  He must want to die.  “Yes...ahh, as long as we can train them, I think this’ll work.”

He looked at the group, hoping no one had seen his and Trinity’s exchange.  Mirra was still prowling.  Gaar’s black eyes were studying him, but his face was inscrutable.  Bo and Tim were focused on the map.  Jackson’s eyes were alight with mischief.  If the Guard caused any problems, he’d bring Kim to camp and see how Jackson liked that.  He moved away from the table.  The others were all discussing his plan in excited tones.  He braced himself as Trinity walked toward him.

“This is a really good idea,” she said.

He looked down at her.  He couldn’t have her around.  She distracted him and he was pretty sure it was becoming obvious to the others how he felt.  Jackson and Gaar already knew, but if he were near her it wouldn’t be long before the others did too.

“I knew you’d be able to lead us.”  She looked up at him from under her lashes.

She was flirting with him.  He wasn’t sure if she realized it or not, but she was and he definitely wanted to take her up on the offer.  “That means you have to obey me.”

“I guess it does.”  She held his gaze in challenge.

He wanted to throw everyone out of his tent and spend hours with her as she obeyed his every command, but he couldn’t.  “Good.  Remember that.”  He’d use it in the coming argument.  She wasn’t going to be happy staying behind at base camp when the rest of them went off to war.  He strode away from her and back to the table.

He was pretty sure she was glaring at him but he ignored her.  That’s what he was going to have to do until this war was over, but as soon as it was he could think about them.  He wanted her and her wanting Jethro didn’t change that.  Even if she was never his—and that thought almost made him sick—the most important thing was keeping her from harm.  So, until the world was safe he’d do everything he could to shield her from dangers, whether she wanted him to or not.

CHAPTER 26:  JETHRO

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JETHRO AWOKE SUDDENLY WHICH had become normal for him the past few years.  One minute he was sound asleep and the next, wide awake and taking inventory of his surroundings.  Today, they were unfamiliar but not hostile.  He was in a bed, naked.  He tensed.  Someone was lying next to him.  Female.  Also naked.  A small hand rested on his chest.  He had no idea who she was or where he was.  He sat up, trying not to disturb her.  He held his breath as she shifted, rolling away from him in her sleep.

He stood, his head pounding.  Flashes of the previous night zipped through his mind.  He hadn’t had that much to drink but he hadn’t eaten since breakfast either.  He picked up his pants and headed into the bathroom.  He splashed water on his face.  Nausea threatened.  He needed more water.  He shut the bathroom door and stepped into the shower, turning the nozzle.  He leaned his hands against the wall, head down, and let the cold water soak into his body.

He’d slept with a House Servant.  He’d fought the urges for a long time and the beer had finally pushed him over the edge.  Dad would never forgive him.  It was wrong, disgusting.  Images of her undressing and her claws raking across his body had him aroused again.  He gritted his teeth and thought about the beheading of the Guards.  When he had his body under control and was sure he wouldn’t throw up, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.  He dried, put on his pants and went back into the bedroom.  He pulled on his shirt.  There was no chair so he sat on the bed to put on his shoes and socks, making as little movement as possible.

A soft sigh from the bed drew his gaze.

“Good morning.”  Leslie’s dark hair was messy and her lips slightly swollen.

“Morning,” he grumbled, hurrying to tie his laces.  He had to get out of there.  He grabbed his other shoe.

She ran her hand down his back and then up under his shirt, her claws out.  “You’re ice cold.”  Shock was clear in her voice as she pulled back her hand, laughing.  “I’d heard Almightys were considerate, but I never expected any male to be that thoughtful.”

The bed shifted behind him and her naked body pressed against his back as her lips tickled his neck.  He dropped his shoe.

“I gotta go,” he said, but his desire to leave had been replaced by other desires.

“You should’ve woken me.”  She nipped his ear.  “There was no reason for a cold shower, not when your Little One was—”

“What did you say?”  He jumped off the bed.  He couldn’t have heard her right.  He was going crazy.  The warm, naked female, the claws on his back and sharp teeth nibbling his ears was one of his fantasies.  This had to be a dream, a bad one.

“That’s what you kept calling me last night.”  She stared at him confused and then smiled shyly.  “It’s your nickname for me.”  She shrugged.  “I like it.”

“No.  I didn’t.  I couldn’t have.”  He grabbed his shoe, leaning against the wall to put it on.  He was not getting anywhere near that bed, even though by the look on her face he was probably safe from anymore amorous advances.

She pulled up the blanket, covering her breasts.  “You’re one of those.”  She rolled her eyes.  “I should’ve known.”  She stood, wrapping the blanket around herself.

“One of what?”  He should leave but he didn’t move.

“It was a good disguise, hanging out with a Guard.”  She walked past him toward the bathroom.

He grabbed her arm.  She turned and glared at him but there were tears in her large green eyes.

“I’m sorry.”  He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“Don’t waste your breath.  You disgust me.”  She jerked free from his hold as she glanced down his body her lips in a sneer.  “You can’t find satisfaction with your own kind but are too good for us.”  She leaned in closer.  “Never too good when you’re drunk though, are you?  Oh no, last night I was beautiful and you loved your Little One but today your self-important pride showed up and now, I’m your dirty little secret.”  She shoved him.  “I’m nobody’s dirty little secret.  Get out.”

“It wasn’t like that.”  But it was.  Last night he’d wanted her and today he was ashamed.  “I’m sorry,” he muttered as he turned and left.

Once outside, the crisp autumn air made him feel a little better.  He ran his hand over his face.  What had he been thinking?  Oh, that’s right.  He hadn’t been at least not with his brain.  He’d been so pumped up from the fight and then sneaking out of camp.  Add the drinks and no food.  It’d been a disaster waiting to happen.  He should’ve left as soon as he’d realized it was a blended bar but he hadn’t wanted to be alone and then he’d been having fun.  He liked Indy and the Guards.  He liked them better than Cal and the other Almightys.  Shit.  What was he going to do?  He was in so much trouble.  He didn’t want to go to jail.  He glanced in the direction of the forest.  It wasn’t far from here.  He should run.  Go and live in the woods.

Would they come after his mom and Kim?  Maybe, he could convince them to flee with him.  They were going to lose the house anyway.  He switched directions and headed for home.  Kim would probably agree to go in a heartbeat.  She was still hung up on Jackson.  His stomach twisted.  Dad would be disappointed in both of them.

A Guard dressed in the uniform of the Council’s Guards waited outside his house.  He stopped, wanting to flee into the forest and go back to the Lake of Sins.  Go back years to when things were simpler and he wasn’t destined for jail, but Casper and Carla were watching him.  They wouldn’t tell the soldier but he was the man of the house now and men didn’t run away from their troubles.  His heartbeat slowed as he moved closer and closer to his fate.

“You need to come with me,” said the Council Guard.

“Jethro, tell me what you want me to do.”  Carla glanced at the Council Guard.

She’d fight this Guard if he wanted.  She’d lose.  The Guard was twice her size but even if the rest of the pack joined in they’d all lose in the end.  This Guard may be alone, but he had the force of the Supreme Almighty behind him.

“It’s okay.  I just wanted to see Mom and Kim once more.”

“We need to leave now, sir,” said the Guard.  “You were expected at the Supreme Almighty’s chambers two hours ago.”

“Come on,” said Carla.  “Let him see his mom.”

“I’m sorry,” said the Guard.  “I have my orders.”

“I understand.”  He glanced at the forest.  He should’ve left when he’d had the chance.  There was no hope for him now.

CHAPTER 27:  JETHRO

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JETHRO STEPPED OUT OF the carriage at the Council Building.  The place looked bigger and more menacing than when he’d been here on a school tour.  Rex, the Guard who’d escorted him from his house, was right behind him, not that he was going to run.  The chance for that was over.  He had to face his fate, whatever that was.  He’d tried to pry information from Rex on the carriage ride over, but the Guard had refused to answer.  He was pretty sure they wouldn’t send him to prison.  It was his first offense and it wasn’t like he’d killed Cal.  He’d only beat him up a little, but this was a time of war.  The Protective Services couldn’t appear to be weak.  Dread and doubt churned in his gut.

Indy, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, slipped out of the shadows of the building and headed his way.

“Back off,” said Rex, moving in front of Jethro.

“Give me a minute.”  Indy smiled.

“No.”  Rex wasn’t charmed.

“Come on.  He’s my friend.”  Indy sauntered closer.  “One minute.”

“Stay back.”  Rex grabbed Jethro’s arm.

“I’m not going to run,” he said, wanting to pull free and do exactly that.

“See.  This is only a simple conversation.”  Indy inched closer.  “Come on.  Do me a favor.  One Guard to another.”

“I have my orders and they ain’t stopping to chat.”  Rex tugged Jethro forward.

Indy’s eyes narrowed and his smile grew wider.  That wasn’t a good sign.

“It’s okay.  I’m fine.”  Jethro nodded toward the two Council Guards who’d come out of the building and were heading in their direction.

“Get out of here,” said Rex.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m going.”  Indy’s took a half step back and then raced forward.

Rex dropped his hold on Jethro and shifted, blocking Indy’s path with his fists ready.  Indy feinted to the left and was behind the larger, slower Guard in a second.  He wrapped his hand around Jethro’s arm, jerking him a few steps away from Rex.

“Remember, you are not a soldier,” whispered Indy in his ear before racing down the street.

“Who was that?”  Rex grabbed Jethro by the neck, shoving him toward the building.

“I have no idea.”  There was no way he was sharing that information.  Indy hadn’t been in uniform so Rex wouldn’t be able to identify him as a member of the Protective Services.

“Gruntshit.”  Rex clasped Jethro’s shirt and pulled him close until they were face to face.  “He said you were friends.  Tell me that Guard’s name and who he belongs to.”

Jethro’s arms trembled at his sides, itching to hit Rex until the Guard whimpered for mercy, but this wasn’t the time to get into another fight.  He had to think, not act.  “So, now you want to talk?  You should’ve thought about that when I was asking you questions on the ride over here.”

Rex’s eyes flared and Jethro braced for the punch, but it never came.

The Guard shoved him but kept a hold of his arm as he dragged him into the building, stopping at a door and knocking.  “In here, smart ass.”

Jason bid them enter and the Guard opened the door.  Jason and Conguise were seated behind a large desk.  Cal stood to the side, looking smug.  Rex gave him a slight push into the room and closed the door.

“Come forward,” said Jason, his face stern.  All signs of the fat, drunk friend gone.

Jethro straightened his shoulders and strode into the room.  He wasn’t ashamed.  If he had the chance, he’d do it again, only this time he’d kill Cal and save the Guards.  He stopped in front of the desk.

“Serious accusations have been brought against you,” said Jason.

He kept his mouth shut and stared straight ahead, waiting for a question.

“Are these accusations true?” asked Jason.

“What was said?”  There was no way he was going to say anything until he knew what story Cal had told.

“You were accused of attacking a superior officer.”

“You’ll be court martialed for that,” sneered Cal.

Indy’s words pushed to the front of his mind.  It was the only chance he had.  “I did attack Cal, but he is not my superior officer.”

“I am a captain,” spat Cal.  “You are a nobody.”

“Exactly.”  He kept his face impassive as he looked at Cal.  “I’m not even a private, so you are not my superior officer.”

“He has a point,” said Conguise.  “Jethro isn’t in the military.  No court martial can be ordered.”

Jethro’s knees almost buckled.  He owed Indy a beer or a hundred beers for this.

“But he attacked me.”  Cal’s voice hit that whiny tone which was normal when things weren’t going his way.

“That he did.”  Jason studied Jethro.  “And that is a punishable crime.”  He looked at Conguise.  “However, I believe there were extenuating circumstances.”

“What?” asked Cal.

“Shut up.”  Jason turned on Cal.  “You caused this.  Thanks to you we have no prisoners.  Word has already gotten out about the executions.  The public is not happy.”

He owed Indy more than beer.  Last night, the Guard had told everyone they’d met about the executions, but since Cal was known for his loose tongue, suspicion fell on the captain.

“I should let the public have you,” said Jason.

“We were in the heat of battle—”

“Battle?  The fighting was done before you arrived.”  Jethro couldn’t let that lie stand.  “They were tied up.  They were our prisoners.”

“Enough,” said Jason.  “They were not your prisoners.  You aren’t in the military.  Remember?  They were his prisoners.”  He pointed at Cal who once again had that smug look on his face.  “And that means he was allowed by law to do whatever he wanted with them.”  He glared at the captain.  “However stupid and shortsighted it might’ve been.”

Cal’s look of triumph deflated.

“This has left us with more problems than answers,” said Jason.  “This was your idea, Peter.  How do you suggest we fix it?”

“Jail won’t help the situation,” said Conguise.  “Jethro is a hero to many.”

His eyes met the professor’s and he tipped his head slightly in gratitude.  The professor was still on his side.  Conguise didn’t see this breach of conduct as a failure.  He hadn’t realized until now how worried he’d been about disappointing the professor.  He cringed inwardly.  He couldn’t let Conguise find out about last night.  The professor was as disgusted by interclass mating as his father had been.

“We have to do something,” said Jason.  “You can’t expect Cal to lead his troops if we don’t punish Jethro in some way.”

Conguise tapped his fingers against the desk.  “We could send him back to the Producer Camps.  They’re still a mess and the price of meat continues to rise.”

Jethro held his breath.  He’d do almost anything to avoid that.

“Lower meat prices would make the people happy,” said Jason.

“But, he was able to capture three Guards from the Allied Classes whereas no one”—Conguise’s eyes fell on Cal—“else has been able to find, let alone capture, anyone.”

“I’ve caught plenty of—”

“Before Truent’s escape,” snapped Jason.  “Since he’s been free there are hundreds more Servants and Guards roaming the woods and yet, you can’t find any of them.  I could throw a rock into the trees and hit one, but you claim there are no tracks.”

“The Guards are responsible for tracking,” said Cal.

Jethro’s lip curled up in a sneer.  Typical Cal, blame others whenever possible.

“And you are responsible for leading the Guards,” said Jason.

Jethro couldn’t contain a small snort.  Cal didn’t lead; he commanded and his orders were foolish because Cal was a fool.  He turned his head away from the captain, his fists clenched at his sides.  The professor was watching him.  He swallowed and stretched out his fingers.  He was here because he’d punched Cal.  He didn’t need them to see that he wanted to do it again.

“It isn’t my fault they can’t follow a trail.”  Cal’s voice was whiny again.

“Yet, somehow they did exactly that for him.”  Jason pointed to Jethro.

“I sent him on that path.  Me or any one of my officers would’ve caught those Guards if we’d been in the area,” said Cal.

“Then explain how none of you have been able to do that.  You haven’t even located the escaped Producers,” said Conguise.  “Those creatures leave a trail a mile wide.”

Cal opened his mouth and clamped it shut, unable to argue against the truth.

“We do need to win this war,” said Jason, tapping his chin.  “We need to instill confidence in the people.  We can lower the meat prices some other way.”  He looked at Conguise.  “But the boy must be disciplined.”

Sweat trickled down his back.  Things had been looking good.  He should’ve known he wouldn’t get away without any punishment.

Conguise was still watching him.  “I suggest that since he’s so fond of Guards, he live with them for a few weeks.”

“Agreed,” said Jason.  “Let him hunt in the forest with Cal’s Guards.”  He faced Jethro.  “You are now in the military.  You are a foot soldier, nothing more.  You’ll live with the Guards and obey like the Guards.”

“Excellent idea.”  Cal’s blue eyes were like brittle glass, ready to cut.

This wasn’t going to be fun.  Some of the Guards were loyal to Cal.  “Can I keep my weapons, sir?”

“Guards are not allowed weapons except when on the hunt.”  Cal’s tone promised retribution.

“I know, sir, but Guards are fast and they have sharp teeth.  Some of them won’t appreciate an Almighty living with them.”

“They are soldiers.  They’ll obey,” said Cal.

Jethro wanted to roll his eyes.  If Cal actually believed that, the man was a bigger fool than he’d thought.

“The boy’s right,” said Conguise.

“Sir,” said Cal.  “My Guards are well trained soldiers.  They would never, never attack an Almighty.”

“I’m sure they are but we’re telling them that Jethro is one of them.”  Conguise looked at Jethro.  “Their equal, not their superior.  I’m sure a few will want to take out some frustrations.”

“Sir, I won’t allow—”

“Enough, Cal.  The boy can keep his weapons at all times,” said Conguise.

“Then, he’s not a foot soldier,” said Jason.  “That wouldn’t be a true punishment.”  His eyes met Conguise’s.  “There will be no weapons except when on the hunt.”

Jethro forced himself not to glare at Jason.  He was going to have to fight quite a few Guards.  He looked at Conguise, hoping for some help from that quarter.  The professor’s mouth was set in a firm line, but he remained silent.

“But listen closely, Cal.”  Jason faced the captain.  “If we hear you’re treating him any differently than the other Guards, you’ll be punished.  You will not seek revenge and you’ll continue to train him.  He won’t be a foot soldier long, I’m sure.  Not if he keeps capturing the enemy.”  He turned toward Jethro.  “And you.  If you disobey again, you’ll be court martialed and you’ll go to prison.  Your family will lose the business they are so close to losing already and they’ll be homeless.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Leave us now,” said Jason.

“Wait,” said Conguise.  “I’ll need to see Jethro in ten days.”

“We’ll be deep in the forest by then.”  Cal’s eyes went to Jason.  “You can’t expect me—”

“The boy will return on the professor’s schedule no matter what.”  Jason’s voice was hard.  “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said Cal.  “But ten days is a short time.  We’ll barely be started before he has to return.”

Jason turned to Conguise.  “Is your schedule firm or is there some latitude?”

Conguise steepled his fingers.  “There is some leeway, but not much.  Jethro knows the schedule and how he feels.  I’ll leave it to him, but no longer than three weeks.”

“Thank you,” said Cal.  “A few days can mean the difference between success and failure when on the hunt.”  He bowed.  “We shall take our leave.”

“Cal, if anything happens to him on his journey back and forth between the professor’s house and your camp, you’ll be held responsible,” said Jason.

“What?  I can’t babysit him.  I can’t leave the hunt again so soon.”

“Send a team of Guards with him.  He’s to make it to the professor’s house and back to your camp safely.  Is that understood?”  Jason’s small eyes were narrowed to slits.

“Yes, sir.”  Cal forced the words out between clenched teeth.

“Good.  Now go.”  Jason waved his hand.

Jethro followed Cal from the room.

“You’ll pay for attacking me,” said Cal as soon as they’d closed the door.  “Now, I’m your superior officer and you will obey.”

He would’ve preferred prison.

CHAPTER 28:  CONGUISE

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“SO PETER, PLEASE EXPLAIN how your experiment is working because I truly don’t understand,” said Jason as soon as Cal and Jethro left the room.

“You heard the reports.  It took more than five Guards to restrain the boy.”  Conguise wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation again, but he needed funding.

“The strength of your various experiments has never been in question.  The numerous accidents in your lab are proof enough of that.  Have you forgotten Ableson?  Arm ripped—”

“I haven’t forgotten anything.”  Conguise went to the liquor cabinet.  Conversations with Jason were always better when the other Almighty was drunk.  He grabbed the cheaper of the two bottles of whiskey and two glasses.  No reason to waste the good stuff on Jason’s plebeian palate.  “Don’t forget Jethro was the one who captured those Guards.”  He filled the glasses and handed one to Jason, leaving the bottle within the Supreme Almighty’s reach.

“No.  The Guards captured the prisoners.”

“Jethro tracked them.”  He took a sip.  A small drink wouldn’t hurt him either.  Hugh’s escape and their failed attempts to apprehend him had not gone unnoticed.  They needed victories and he needed a success.

“Three of the four Guards in Jethro’s team state they were leaving the area, not tracking Guards.”

“Those three are idiots.  Their purpose - muscle not brains.”

“Of course, they’re Guards,” said Jason.

“True.  But would you send them to track other Guards who’d been eluding you?”

“No.”  Jason’s eyes were suspicious as he raised the glass to his lips.

“The only Guard under Jethro’s command who displayed any sign of intelligence was the one who testified that Jethro had sent him to continue scouting.  Jethro knew something was out there, but he was limited in his capacity to act.  He did the best he could.”

“Attacking a captain in the Protective Services is not the best that could’ve been done.”

“That was unfortunate but temper is one of the side effects of this process.”

“One that you need to fix.”  Jason finished his drink and refilled his glass.

“I disagree.  We need to utilize it not eliminate it.”  He took another sip.  This was a decent brand—cheap enough to serve to Jason but not horrible to the palate.  He’d tell Afar to get some for home.  “We need to guide him, not hinder the gifts of his transformation.”

“You need to control him.  He nearly killed Cal.”

“He did no such thing.  Initially, he only restrained the captain.”

“With his hands at Cal’s throat!”

“Arm, according to the Guards.”  Conguise swirled the liquor in his glass.  That had actually surprised him.  The boy had shown exceptional control...at first.  “And, according to Cal’s own testimony, Jethro had a knife.  If he’d wanted Cal dead, the captain would be dead.”

“You do have a point.”  Jason took another large swallow of his drink.

“Jethro needs to feel a bond, a connection.  That’s how we’ll gain control over him. We’ll guide him and mold him to want what we want.  I’ve started that process but I can’t be in the field with him.  That’s why his living with the Guards will be a twofold blessing.”

“I thought it was a punishment.”

“I wasn’t going to punish the boy for doing what he was created to do.”  He topped off Jason’s drink.  He needed the other man tipsier before he approached the real topic.  “Jethro has always had an affinity for Guards.  It’s a weakness but it’s understandable.  Growing up he had no friends but his sister and their Guards.”

“And we know how fond his sister is of Guards.”  Jason smirked.

“Those are rumors.”

“Founded by fact.”

“That’s our fault.”  Conguise’s eyes narrowed.  “If we enforced the law these things wouldn’t happen, but instead we look the other way and ignore the bastardization of our class.”

“Save me your sermons.”  Jason finished his drink.  “I don’t like our women dabbling with the other classes any more than you.”

“Women?  It’s an abomination no matter if it’s our girls or boys who commit the act.”

“Of course, but I’m not going to enforce archaic laws.”  Jason dumped more whiskey in his glass and held it up as if toasting.  “The public is unhappy enough.”  He took a drink.  “But, back to the subject at hand.  We don’t want Jethro loyal to Guards.  What if he becomes too attached to one of the Guards like his sister did?  That’d be disastrous.”

“Jethro wouldn’t do that.  He has the appropriate distaste for the mingling of the classes.  I was no fan of Benedictine, but he raised his children right.”  He took a sip of his drink.  “Well, he tried and succeeded with his son.”

“There was that Producer.”  Jason watched him closely.

“That was a childish friendship, nothing more and Jethro despises her now.  He understands that she brought the Trackers to his home.”

“Hmm.  From what I hear she’s quite attractive.  Not a Producer at all, but a House Servant.”  Jason’s eyes gleamed.  “Servants can be very enticing.”

“Jethro is not attracted to that creature and living with the Guards will allow him to hunt as he’s been modified to hunt.  I’m sure he’ll hold back at first but soon, he won’t be able to refrain from surrendering to the wild in his blood.”

“And how is that going to help us if he’s loyal to no one?”

“He’ll bond with the Guards.  He’ll feel some loyalty to them, but he’ll realize they’re inferior to him in ability and intelligence.  He’ll turn to us for guidance.”  Conguise took another small sip of his drink.  Jethro will turn to him, not Jason but there was no reason to point out that little truth.

“We shall see.”  Jason swirled the alcohol in his glass.  “Quite frankly, I’m not all that impressed with your protégé.  He’d better do something soon or your funding will be gone.”

“You need my experiments.  We need to be prepared—”

“Yes, yes.  The looming attack from across the sea.  I’ve heard about that all my life and have yet to see any sign of its truth.”

“By the time you see the first sign, it’ll be too late to prepare.”

“Then you’d better hurry along your experiments because time is running out for you.”  Jason finished his drink.  “Have you made any advancement in the delivery of the serum?  Having them come in every month or so for a shot won’t work during war.”

“I had to hire out for that, but I’ve been told someone is working on the implant as we speak.”  He leaned back in his chair.  That was a problem that needed to be remedied quickly.

“You should’ve done it years ago.”

“I’m quite aware of that and Hugh was working on it before he quit to create his tracking device.  I saw his notes and drawings for the prototype.”  His eyes gleamed.  “It was perfect.  Imperceptible in the skin and yet it’d give a small doze of product into the blood in a continuous manner.”

“Really?  How long would it last?”

“Hugh thought three years.”

“And you have someone working on that now?”  Jason’s eyes sparkled with excitement and drink.

“Yes.  All those drawings and notes were confiscated along with Hugh’s other experiments.”

“Excellent.”  Jason tipped back his glass, finishing another drink.  “How soon will it be ready for testing?  We need it with Jethro—”

“We will not test it on Jethro.  It could fail.  I won’t chance losing him to his transformation.”

“You have others you can test it on?”

“Yes.”  He had numerous creatures at his disposal.

They sat in silence for several moments, drinking.

He watched Jason closely until he was sure the other Almighty was drunk enough.  “I think we should discuss how we can alleviate the high price of meat.”  He needed the Supreme Almighty’s connections for this plan to work.

“That’d be nice.  It’d raise the people’s morale.”

“It’s ridiculous that the Remores can continue to refuse to send Producers to market.”  He prodded.

“And yet it’s the truth.  Their family has run those camps for generations.  We need public approval to take the business and right now, we don’t have it.”

“Of course not.  The public will fear we’ll move in and take other businesses.”  He ran his finger across the smooth glass.  “It is a shame though.  You should see the latest Producer I bought.  A fine specimen.  Large, wide hips and breasts.  Perfect for bearing offspring and her temperament is exceptional.  She’s obedient and smart but not too smart.”

“And she was at market?”  Jason refilled both of their glasses.

“Yes.”

“Perhaps she’s barren.”

“No.  I asked.  She was not assigned a mate.  The demand for meat has the other camps sending their better specimens to slaughter.  This has to stop.  We’ll be in a shortage soon.  Right now, the meat is expensive but it’s there.  If we continue down this path, over a few more years, the meat won’t be available.  Producers don’t breed and grow fast enough.”

“That’s a problem for another day.”

“Why leave that problem for later when we can do something to eliminate it now?”  Conguise had to fight to keep the exasperation from his tone.  Jason’s shortsightedness had always been a bone of contention between them.

“I just told you I can’t take the Remore family business, no matter what we tell Jethro, so this discussion is pointless unless you have a way to sway public opinion.  If you do, please enlighten me.”  Jason waved his hand in a sarcastic manner.

He couldn’t wait for the day when he no longer needed this fat, disgusting, little man.  He took a deep breath.  “I have another idea.”

“Go on.  Don’t leave me on the edge of my seat.”  Jason tipped his glass, dribbling whiskey down his chin.

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

Jason grinned.  “It lightens the mood.  You’re always so grumpy.”

“We’re talking about serious issues.”  This was the downside of dealing with drunk-Jason.  The man thought he was amusing.

“You should relax once in a while.  Have some fun.”  Jason pushed the bottle closer to the professor.  “Drink up.”

He didn’t have time for this, but he took another sip to appease Jason.  “Remember that loan Jethro’s mother took on her house.”

“Yes, but I told you before I don’t own that bank nor her loan.”  Jason grinned.  “Another little lie to our boy.”  He snorted.  “The kid is so gullible.  I’ll give you credit for that.  He believes whatever you tell him.”

“I never said you owned the bank.  I said you were on the board of directors and had some say in the dealings there.”  He hid his grimace behind his glass.  He hadn’t exactly lied to Jethro, but he had stretched the truth.  “You do have friends that are on the board of directors, right?”

“Yes.”  Jason’s foggy eyes cleared a bit.

“Perhaps, they can call in the loan.  I’m sure the Remore Producer Encampments were part of the collateral.”

“We’d lose the Producer Camps as leverage over Jethro.”

“Yes, but we’ve exhausted that threat.  We both know Jethro was meant for better things than running Producer Camps.  Plus, it’d solidify Jethro’s need to obey.  His job in the military would be the only income for his family.”

“Hmm.  I don’t know.  Martha Remore is a little late on her payments but not a lot.”  Jason shook his head.  “I don’t want to be indebted to...my friends at the bank.”

“You wouldn’t be indebted.  They’ll get more than their money.”  He leaned closer.  “Think about it.  The price of a fully stocked—overstocked—Producer encampment will fetch top dollar with the demand for meat so high.”

“My friend...friends will want all their money.”  Jason frowned, tension filling his face.  “He...they won’t want her house.”

“I’ll buy it.”

“Really?”  The tension fled Jason’s face only to be replaced by suspicion.  “Why would you want that old place?”

“There is great historic value in that community.”

“You and your fondness for history.”  Jason tossed back his drink.

“This solution is perfect.”  He refilled the Supreme Almighty’s glass.  “Your friends will get their money, the public will get their meat, and Jethro will be tied more firmly to us.”  And he’d get access to the house and see if those tunnels actually existed.

“I’ll talk to my friend.”  Jason emptied his glass in two large gulps.  “You don’t have to say it.  I know.  This has to be kept quiet.  We can’t have Jethro finding out that you or I were behind this.”

The sudden clarity in Jason’s eyes made the hair on Conguise’s neck raise.  Jason had better not attempt to betray him in this.  He took a large swallow of his drink, letting it calm him.  He’d cover his tracks financially and make sure that the only one visibly involved would be Jason.

CHAPTER 29:  TRINITY

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TRINITY STORMED ACROSS THE camp.  She was going to kill Hugh when she found him.  Now, she understood why he’d been avoiding her the last few days.  She was such a naïve fool.  She’d thought he’d been staying away from her because he was hurt about her drawings of Jethro, but that hadn’t been it at all.  It’d all been an act—his hurt feelings, the arguments, the kisses.  All of it had been camouflage for his real deceit.  Her eyes narrowed and her claws slipped out of her fingertips.  He was near the edge of the forest, talking to Curtis.  She strode up to him and stopped.  “When were you going to tell me?”

Curtis sent a sympathetic glance toward Hugh, nodded at her and quickly walked away.

Hugh glanced around before taking her hand.  “I would’ve said goodbye.”

“I heard it from the recruits.”  She jerked free from his grasp.  “Everyone knew but me.”  Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.  She was too furious to cry, but obviously her body didn’t realize that.

“I’m sorry about that.  I didn’t want to fight with you.”

“Good.”  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “Exactly, when are we leaving?”

“We aren’t leaving.  You are staying here.”

“No.  I’m not.”

He sighed and took her hand again.  “Trinity, I need you to train the recruits.”

“No, you don’t.  Lena—”

“Stop.  I don’t have time for this.  I’m in charge.  You wanted that, remember?”  He smiled.

“I was wrong.”  She wasn’t letting him charm his way out of this.

His smiled slid away.  “Too bad because it’s what you got.”  His thumb caressed her knuckles and then he dropped her hand.  “I need you training the recruits.  That’s an order.”

“It’s a stupid one and I won’t—”

“You promised to obey my commands.  Are you going to break your word?”

“I never promised to—”

“You did.  In my tent.  Right after we returned from the Stockers’ Village and I explained how I wanted to use the forest to fight this war.”

She’d been flirting and hadn’t meant real commands.  He was such a jerk to throw that back at her.  “I...I...I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known you’d do something so stupid.”

“Too bad.  You said it and I’m ordering you to train the recruits.”  He strode away, meeting up with Jackson, who’d been watching them from a safe distance.  The two disappeared inside Hugh’s tent.

She glared after him and then turned and raced across camp to the training ground.  She had a quick conversation with Lena and then went into her tent, packed and waited.  Hugh could say and give whatever order he wanted but he wasn’t leaving her behind.  They were fighting a war and she was the best in the forest.  It was stupid for her to stay at base camp.  She should be at the war camp with the other trained soldiers.

It wasn’t long before Hugh and Jackson came out of his tent.  They both had their backpacks.  A few moments later, they left with the first group of soldiers.  A couple hours later the next group left.  It went on all day, but waiting didn’t bother her.  Not this time.  Today, she was a patient predator.  When the last group gathered she slipped out of her tent and joined them.

Trinity’s group arrived at the war camp the next morning.  This camp was similar to base camp, except they were out in the open without Harbor Point to shelter them on one side.  There were two large tents.  One was the mess tent by the smells coming from it.  The other was probably the barracks.  At this camp, most of the soldiers wouldn’t have their own homes.  They’d only have somewhere to sleep.  There were a few small tents scattered about and Hugh was outside of one of them, talking to Bo and Jackson.  She shifted behind a large Guard, letting her hood cover her face as Bo headed toward them.  She wouldn’t be able to hide from Hugh forever, but she needed a few days to get everything in place.

“I know the trip was long and dangerous,” said Bo.  “Get some rest.  You’ll report for duty in four hours.”

The crowd shifted, so she glanced up.

Bo was pointing to the large tent on the outskirts of camp.  “There are cots and pallets set up.  If there aren’t enough, share or sleep on the ground.”  His eyes scanned the group before he turned and headed toward Hugh.

She followed the others to the tent.  She’d just dropped her backpack in an unclaimed corner when...

“What in the name of Araldo do you think you’re doing here?”  Hugh grabbed her arm and yanked her out the door, dragging her several feet away from the tent.  “I should have you arrested.  You disobeyed a direct order.”

His face was red and a muscle throbbed in his cheek.  She’d never seen him so mad and for a second she felt bad about coming here.

“How am I supposed to lead an army when I can’t even make you obey?”  He dropped her arm and ran his hand through his hair.

By now, everyone nearby had stopped whatever they’d been doing and were watching the fight.

“I didn’t disobey your order.”  Her voice was soft as she glanced at him from under her lashes.  Flirting couldn’t hurt the situation.

His eyes roamed her body for one second before narrowing as he took a step away from her.  “How...how do you figure that?  I couldn’t have been any clearer when I ordered you to stay in the camp—”

“That wasn’t your order.  You said I had to train and I am.  I will.”  She nodded to a couple of Guards and Servants who’d followed them outside.  “I brought those who’d passed basic training with me.  I’m going to teach advanced training here.”  She motioned toward the forest.  “It’s a better location.  The environments are more diverse and”—her eyes met his—“I’m close enough to help with battle planning if you need me.”

“I said you were to stay at base camp and train.”  The words rumbled through his chest like a volcano, warning of an eruption.

“Ah, Hugh.”  Curtis crept a few feet closer.  “Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard the two of you and she’s right.  When you said it was an order you said you needed her to train.  You didn’t mention that she had to stay at base camp.”

“Shut up.”  The look Hugh sent the Guard made it clear that he’d gladly kill Curtis.

“Yes, sir.”  Curtis winked at her behind Hugh’s back.

She had a hard time not smiling.  She owed Curtis for this one.  “This is better, for everyone.  Lena gets a chance to train without me looking over her shoulder and I can take the recruits to different areas of the forest and give them advanced training.  It’s a win-win situation.”

“You’re unbelievable.”  He turned and strode away, back stiff with anger.

She grinned.  He’d get over his pique soon and realize that she was right, as usual.

CHAPTER 30:  JETHRO

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JETHRO LEANED AGAINST A large pine tree.  He, Cal and a group of Guards had left camp at first light.  They’d found Producer scent right away and had followed it through the forest until it’d disappeared.  Cal wasn’t happy.  The captain had chosen three of his best Guards to fan out while the rest waited.  As an Almighty, Jethro hadn’t been picked to search for the scent.  It was understandable, but it’d been a mistake.  Right now, his senses were humming.  He inhaled deeply and tried to categorize each smell.  It wasn’t easy because every day he could detect dozens of new odors and his senses would keep getting stronger until it was time for his shot.  Then it’d be like being wrapped in burlap sacks.  Everything would be muffled and dulled.  He’d stop taking the serum except he couldn’t risk losing his ability to walk.

“Anything yet, Duke?” called out Cal.

“No, sir.”  Duke pushed through the brush toward the captain.

He was Cal’s Lead Guard.  He was big, strong, smart and obedient.  His only flaw was his loyalty to Cal.

“Only thing around here are the trees, rabbits and something”—Duke sniffed—“musky, earthy.  It’s faint, but there.”

Jethro inhaled, trying not to be obvious.  Almightys did not sniff out scent.  Duke was right.  This wasn’t only the odor of the forest.  This was something else and it made him uneasy.  “Maybe, we should move on.”

“Where?” snapped Cal.  “Are you suggesting we wander around until we find something?”

It was a better idea than waiting for scent to magically appear, but he kept his mouth shut.  He didn’t need to give Cal another reason to set the Guards after him.  He was sure the captain had encouraged some of them to antagonize him.  The first week hadn’t been easy, but lucky for him, he was fast and strong.  He’d fought and beat every Guard who’d attacked him.  Many of them still didn’t like him or the fact that he was living with them, but they all treated him with either respect or apprehension.  He hoped that’d continue through the first few days after his shot, but Guards were excellent at spotting weakness which meant he was probably in for some beatings.

“With respect, sir,” said Indy.  “What Jethro suggests isn’t a complete crapshoot.  We know the Producer didn’t go the way we just traveled.  There seems to be some disturbance in the vegetation over there to the right.  That’s probably the direction we need to take.”

“And if you’re wrong?” asked Cal.

“We waste a few hours, come back here and try another route.”  Indy’s back was stiff.  They all knew the only reason Cal didn’t like the idea was because he hadn’t thought of it.

“Hours?  I don’t have that kind of time to waste—”

“What do you suggest?”  He couldn’t stay quiet any longer.  He’d fight anyone Cal wanted to send after him.  “You think staying here for hours is a better idea?  At least if we make an educated guess we’re doing something.  Or should we go back and report failure.  Again.”  They hadn’t found anything since the Guards who’d been executed.  The Supreme Almighty and the Council couldn’t be happy about their lack of progress.

Cal looked at Duke and the Guard nodded.  Cal sneered as he faced Jethro again.  “You get to explain to Jason why this took so long.”

He pushed away from the tree and followed Indy into the forest.

“Didn’t know the captain was on a first name basis with our supreme leader,” said Indy under his breath.

“Only when the Supreme Almighty isn’t around.”  He and Indy had grown close since they’d returned.  The Guard was irreverent, disobedient and took nothing seriously but he was also smart and had turned out to be a loyal friend.

They traveled for over an hour.  There’d been some discussion about turning back but they kept finding small signs that something had passed through this area not too long ago.  There was also a faint scent of Producer in the air.  It wasn’t much but enough to keep them heading in this direction.

A gentle breeze wafted through the trees and his head snapped upward, catching the scent.  There it was, the odor of Producer, and it was strong and fresh.  The Guards all stopped as if on cue.  He followed their gazes and his eyes locked on an adult, male Producer hidden in the foliage, standing still as a statue and staring at them.

“Orders, sir.”  Duke’s voice was low, his eyes never leaving his prey.

“What is it?” Cal glanced around.

Duke nudged the captain and pointed.  Cal turned in the right direction but it was still a moment or two before his eyes narrowed and he nodded.

Jethro glanced at the Guards.  They were eager to run, to hunt.  They’d done nothing but track for weeks and they were ready for action, but something was off.  That faint musky odor hung in the air as if in warning.  His gaze wandered back to the Producer who still hadn’t moved.  He walked over to Cal.  “Something isn’t right.  He should’ve run by now.  It’s like he’s waiting for us.”

“Obviously, you’ve never hunted.  This is typical behavior of the less intelligent.  He believes that if he doesn’t move, we can’t see him.”  Cal rolled his eyes at the Guards, some of who snickered.

His jaw tensed.  Cal was right in that he’d never hunted and although that might be typical behavior for a rabbit, the Producer knew they saw him.  It was clear in his eyes and there was his fear in the air.

“Bring him down, boys,” whispered Cal.  “But don’t hurt him too badly.  We need this one alive.”

Duke motioned and the Guards spread out.  The Producer stood still for several moments and then bolted.  The Guards followed, howling and yelping, unable to contain their excitement.

“Stay with me.”  Cal grabbed his arm.  “Jason may want you living with the Guards but I won’t have you messing this up.”

He wanted to shove the other man’s hand away and race after the Guards.  Every instinct in his body screamed for him to give chase, but he refrained, slowing his stride to Cal’s.

“I don’t like you.”  Cal dropped his hand as he quickened his pace.  “I’m sure I never will, but you won’t be living with the Guards forever.  You need to grow up and learn your place in the world.  You’re an Almighty and Almightys do not race through the forest.  That’s why we have Guards.”

The yelps of the Guards grew dimmer as they moved farther away.  He lengthened his stride.  He couldn’t help it.  Thankfully, Cal was also eager to see action so the captain didn’t comment about the undignified display.  There was another yelp and then the screams started.  He and Cal froze, their eyes meeting.  Without a word they both ran toward the sound.

He was faster and easily took the lead, the dark, musky odor growing stronger with each step.  Soon, the screams were replaced by the sounds of fighting.  Something had been waiting for them.  He’d known it hadn’t felt right.  He burst through the bushes and stumbled to a halt, his mind unable to process what his eyes saw.  Some Guards were fighting lizard-like creatures.  Others were dead, surrounded by the giant lizards as they fed on the bodies.  One of the creatures stopped eating and looked at him.  It had the face of an Almighty.  Cold fear ran down his spine.  These things weren’t natural.  They were monsters from a nightmare, from legend.  He staggered backward, bumping into Cal.

“Holy Araldo, what are those things?” asked Cal.

“I have no idea,” he whispered.

The lizard-men continued to feed, tearing into the flesh of the Guards.  A scream pulled his gaze away from the dead.  Most of the Guards were gone, hopefully safe in the forest, but a lizard-man had his teeth clamped onto Speck’s leg and was pulling him into the bushes.  Speck clawed at the dirt, yelling for help.  Jethro’s eyes locked with the young Guard’s brown ones.  He had to do something, but he didn’t move.  He couldn’t.  His brain was still trying to process the scene.  Speck yelled again as another lizard-man darted from the side and tore into the kid’s throat, stopping the scream.  Jethro staggered backward as Speck’s eyes dimmed and went lifeless.

“We need to go,” whispered Cal, grabbing the back of Jethro’s shirt and tugging.

Three of the lizard-men were now watching them.  The creatures stalked closer, tongues flicking the air for scent.  He and Cal moved backward as one.  He kept his eyes on the approaching creatures, waiting for a chance to make a run for it and praying these things weren’t faster than him.  A movement in the bushes drew his gaze.  Indy was surrounded by four of the lizard-men.  He’d never make it out alive.  Not without help and maybe not even then.

“There’s nothing we can do for him.”  Cal grabbed his arm, pulling him backward.

Indy’s brown eyes met his.  The Guard was scared.

“We have to go.”  Cal’s grip tightened on his arm.

He took another step backward and stopped, his feet refusing to retreat.  He couldn’t do it.  Not again.  He’d never leave anyone to be torn apart again.

“Come on,” said Cal, yanking on his arm.

“I can’t.”  He shrugged off Cal’s hold.

“You’re a fool.”

“This is your chance.  Run.”  He took a deep breath and strode toward the three lizard-men who’d been stalking them.

His fear subsided and life seemed to slow as the largest creature lunged at him.  He stretched out his arm, his knife already in his hand, although he had no memory of unsheathing it.  His weapon slid into the lizard-man’s flesh until his hand connected with the cool, smooth skin.  Blood spurted from the creature’s chest as it fell to the ground.  He glanced at the blood that covered his hand and side.  A feeling of calm rightness swept over him and the world slowed even more.  The sounds of screaming and tearing flesh dimmed and then disappeared.  Another lizard-man rushed him and he slashed its throat a second before it bit him.  The creature screeched and spun in circles, trying in desperation to outrun death.  Its blood sprayed, covering Jethro’s face and body, its sticky warmth comforting and yet exciting.  He yearned to drop to his knees and sink his hands into the body of the lizard-man, but he continued toward Indy, moving on instinct – never thinking only acting.  Two lizard-men rushed him and he turned, his knife coming down on one’s back as his foot hit the other in its face.  He had no idea how he managed to avoid the mouthful of sharp teeth.  He kicked again and again until the creature’s bone crunched under his boot, the sound breaking through the pounding of his blood, reminding him of a wooden bat hitting a ball.  Several lizard-men surrounded him, keeping their distance, eyes wary.

“Run or die,” he whispered as he grabbed one by the back of its neck and sliced its throat.  He stabbed another in the side and slashed its face, his knife sinking into its eye.  It screeched in pain and pulled away, racing into the brush before he could shove his knife deeper.  He started after it, his instincts pounding, demanding him to run it down, to finish the job.

“Jethro!  Over here,” shouted Indy.

He stumbled to a halt as his name penetrated the fog that’d surrounded him, protected him.  Scents and sounds came flooding back in waves—the smell of fear and death, blood, bodies torn apart.  His head pounded from the onslaught of information.  He glared at the lizard-men—some watching, some eating.  He could kill them all.  He wanted to kill them all.

“Jethro, get your ass over here!” yelled Indy.

He turned toward the sound.  It took him a minute to recognize the Guard.  He shook his head and slashed at the lizard-men as he made his way to Indy’s side.

“We should make a run for it while the Cold Creepers are busy,” said Indy.

He twisted his knife, his blood screaming for him to kill his enemies, but Indy was right.  This was the best chance they had.  Most of the lizard-men were feeding on either one of the Guards or one of their dead companions, but that could change at any time.

He kicked one of the creatures in the head as it darted toward him.  It staggered sideways, giving him a dirty look as it meandered over to one of its dead comrades and began eating.  A few stragglers eyed them before moving to the dead to claim some food.

He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to chase after the creatures and sink his knife into them, over and over again until there was nothing left but piles of delicious red gore.  He trembled at his restraint.  They needed to leave.  The smell of blood and death would bring other predators.  “We move slowly until we’re out of here.”

“Agreed.  Back-to-back,” said Indy.

They moved as one past the creatures, making as wide a berth as possible.  He prayed at least one would attack so he could kill again, but they were more interested in the easy meal, the already dead.  Some eyed them but none approached.

As soon as they were clear they glanced at each other and ran.  After a while, their pace slowed to a fast jog and then a lope.  Indy asked him several times if he needed to rest, but he didn’t.  He felt great.  Alive.  Never better.  He was covered in blood and the scent was invigorating.  Nothing had ever felt as right as when he’d been fighting those creatures.  Everything had aligned like this was what he’d been created to do.

As soon as they arrived at camp, they were escorted to Cal’s tent.

“You’re alive.”  Cal stared at them, surprised and a little wary.

“No thanks to you.”  Jethro was in no mood for Cal.  The coward had left everyone to die.

“No one could make it out of there alive.  No one.”

“And yet all three of us did.”  He couldn’t hide his abilities anymore, at least not his fighting prowess.  Truthfully, it was a surprise to him too.  He’d known he could smell and hear better than the Guards but he’d had no idea that he could fight.  Not like that.

“How many were lost, sir?”  Indy glanced between the Almightys.

“Ten that we know of but another eight Guards...seven now”—Cal nodded at Indy—“have yet to return.”  The captain continued to stare at Jethro.  “Most were able to escape.  Seems those things—”

“Cold Creepers, sir,” said Indy.  “That’s what I heard they were called.”

“You knew those things lived in this forest and you didn’t tell me?”  Cal face reddened like an overripe tomato.  “This attack was you fault.”

“I heard stories, rumors but I didn’t believe them.”  Indy’s face paled.  “Until today.”

As Jethro stared at Cal, the sound of the captain’s voice dwindled.  The man was worse than a coward and he wasn’t going to allow the captain to blame Indy for this massacre.  His fists clenched at his sides.  It’d be easy to make the captain stop talking.  He could hit Cal so hard that his fist touched the back of the man’s skull.

“This has to be reported,” said Cal.  “Jason is going to want to know about these...these monsters”—his gaze went back to Jethro—“as well as other things.”

Indy’s hand on his arm, made him start.  He’d forgotten about the Guard as he’d imagined all the ways he could kill Cal.  It’d be much easier than the Cold Creepers.  Cal was slow and weak.  He took a small step forward.

Indy moved in front of him.  “Doesn’t Jethro need to go into town soon?”  He looked at Jethro giving him a warning glance.

The Guard was right.  He couldn’t kill Cal, at least not in the center of camp with witnesses everywhere.  His body shook as he took a deep breath, clearing his head.  “I need my shot.”  The words were bitter on his tongue.  He didn’t want his shot.

“That’s right.”  Cal studied him.  “You’ll need to be escorted—”

“Indy can escort me.”  He didn’t need protection, not now but he would on the way back.  Plus, the Guard was one of the few he trusted not to give away his weakness.  He couldn’t afford for the Guards who were loyal to Cal to realize he was weak for the first few days after his shot.  “We can report the incident then.”

“We’ll all go.  Reports are given by the commanding officer, not Guards.”  The sneer in Cal’s tone was clear.

Cal would give his version, no doubt painting himself the hero.

“Yes, sir.”  Indy grabbed Jethro’s arm and pulled him out the door.

As soon as they were far enough away that the captain couldn’t hear them, Indy stopped.

“Are you crazy?  You’re already in enough trouble.  Hitting Cal again, won’t help.”

“The man’s a coward.  He’s going to report that he saved everyone and that the situation was your fault.”

“I don’t care.”  Indy’s face was pale.  “Maybe, I should’ve said something.”

“He wouldn’t have believed you.”

“But some of the Guards might still be alive.”

“Are you the only one who’d heard about the creatures?”

“No.  Most of us have talked about the crazy scents and tracks we’ve been noticing out here.”

“Let me know next time.”  He’d noticed odd smells, things that he couldn’t categorize, but he’d assumed it was normal creatures whose scent he hadn’t learned.

“Why?”  Indy watched him closely.

“I’d like to know that something odd might be heading our way.”  He’d love to be able to ask Indy what all the scents were, but he didn’t trust the Guard that much.  He’d have to continue figuring them out himself.

“Sure.”  Indy cleared his throat.  “Thanks for not leaving me.”

He nodded, not sure how to respond.  Indy had seen him fight.  “I...I’d appreciate it if you—”

“I owe you.  Whatever you need...doesn’t matter what it is.”

“Don’t mention anything about the fight.”  He smiled a bit to try and ease the tension.  “Do that, and we’re even.”

Indy hesitated.  “Sure, but—”

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have asked.”  If Indy were caught lying to his superiors, he’d be executed.

“I’ll do it.  Like I said, I owe you, but Cal saw you.”

“He couldn’t have.  He ran.”

“Not right away.  He saw you take out at least two Creepers.”

“Damn.”

“Don’t worry.  Cal doesn’t like to praise anyone but himself.  I doubt he’ll talk about your...performance today.”

“Yeah, but don’t get in trouble by lying for me.  Since Cal saw just tell them the truth.”

“I will.  I was terrified and didn’t see much besides the Cold Creepers staring me down.”

“Thanks.”  The risk the Guard was taking was tremendous and he was truly grateful.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”  Indy headed toward the river.

Jethro’s nose twitched.  The blood had stiffened on his clothes and skin.  It was time to clean it off.

“How long before you have to have your shot?”  Indy stripped out of his clothes and dove into the water.

“There isn’t an exact date.  I have to take it about once a month or so.”  He’d confided in the Guard about his childhood injury and his surgery.  He sunk into the water, the coolness calming his blood.

“How sick does it make you?”

“Sick and tired.”  That was an understatement.  It made him exhausted.  He floated on his back.  He could stay like this forever.

“Do you have time to make a stop first?”  Indy grinned at him.  “An overnight stop?”

“Yeah, but I doubt Cal—”

“We aren’t waiting for Cal.  He won’t leave until the morning and I’m going to buy you some drinks and a little company.”

His pulse raced as he strode out of the water.  Maybe he could find Leslie again.  He’d battled and won.  Now, it was time to mate.

CHAPTER 31:  CONGUISE

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CONGUISE FINISHED HIS DINNER, jotting a couple of notes on his recipe card.  Next time, the dish would be perfect.  He went into his study, poured a small brandy and sat down at his desk, an unusual feeling of contentment washing over him.  He still had a lot of work to do but his experiment with Jethro was coming along nicely.  It gave him hope.  He hadn’t expected that.  He hadn’t expected anything after Viola’s death.  Only his work in the lab and his vengeance had gotten him through the first year.

He took a sip of the drink and gazed into the night.  It’d been months before he’d been able to go into the kitchen.  He touched his stomach, flat but no longer concave.  He’d lost over thirty pounds that first year and was only now at his ideal weight.  He’d never thought he’d be able to cook again, but he’d overcome.

He finished his drink and picked up the book.  They were already halfway done.  He was reading to her faster than the others, spending more time with her.  She was quite intelligent for a Producer, but soon, it’d be time.  Jason’s party was nearing.  He wasn’t looking forward to the slaughter.  He never did, but this time it’d be harder.  She shouldn’t be here, in his basement.  She should be bearing offspring.  The fact that a fine specimen like her would have to die was the fault of the Remore women and it had to stop.  This wasn’t the way it should be.

He went into the kitchen and prepared a tray with bread, a new red rice dish he’d created and some fruits and vegetables.  He placed a knife on the tray and added a container of water.  He put on a sweater as he opened the door to the pantry and turned on the light.  There was already a chill in the air and it was going to get colder.  He went to the closet, pulling out a blanket and carried that along with the book and tray down the stairs.

She sat in the cage across the room, eyes blinking to adjust to the light.  She smiled at his approach and moved to the table.  “Hello, Professor.”  She sat on the chair, locking her feet and hands into the restraints without hesitation.

“I’ve brought you another blanket.  It’s going to be cold tonight.”

“Thank you.”  She kept her eyes pointed down.

She was a good Producer.  The best he’d had so far.  She was polite, docile and knew her place.  He set the items on the table outside the cage, took the key off the wall and opened the cell door.  He laid the blanket on her mat on the floor and placed the food and water in front of her.

“Is this the dish you told me about?”  She tipped back her head, smiling up at him as she closed her eyes.

“Yes.”  He stared at her throat, exposed and vulnerable.  He reached around her and lifted the knife.  She remained quiet and still like she’d been taught.  It’d be easy to slice her throat.  There’d be very little mess unlike the first time.  He put the knife down and stepped outside the cage, locking the door.  She remained motionless.  The others had always been unable to keep from looking at the food, but she obeyed.  It wasn’t right that she’d die because Martha Remore refused to do her job.  “You may eat now.”  His voice was whisper soft as he realized he’d miss her.

She tasted the rice.  “It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.  I have a little extra.  I’ll bring it to you for lunch tomorrow.”

She nodded her thanks as he picked up the book and sat on a chair near the cell.  It was important that she be used to his presence.  It made the process much easier.  The first time had been a disaster.

He’d purchased a Producer, a young male, and he’d had him delivered to this very room.  He’d come downstairs after a long day in the lab, carrying the knife.  The Producer had already been scared but once he’d seen the weapon he’d become terrified.  The young male had yanked at his shackles almost pulling down the rail system that’d been installed for slaughtering.  After what had seemed like hours but had only been minutes, his Guards had hoisted the Producer onto the rail by his feet.

Conguise’s eyes drifted to her.  She continued to eat, but she kept glancing at the book.  She loved the stories he read.  She was perceptive too, often knowing and understanding what was going to happen in the tale.  She wanted him to read but would never presume to ask.  It wasn’t her place and he appreciated her understanding that.  He should read the next chapter but he didn’t want to open the book.  Every page brought them closer to the end, but so did Jason’s party.  It was her fate—the fate of her kind—but it didn’t have to be cruel.  He’d make sure of that.

He’d sworn after that first time, that he’d never do it again.  Not like that.  He’d figure out a way to slaughter them humanely.  That first time the Producer had begged and pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks until he was hanging upside down and they’d dropped to the floor in large splashes.

Conguise’s imagination had replaced the Producer with Viola.  It’d been her crying for mercy, begging for her life.  He’d put the knife down and sent the Guards away.  He’d stood for a long time, his hands against the table and his head down.  He’d known that if he walked out without finishing the task, he’d never return.  It’d be over for him.  He’d starve.  He could never again eat anything prepared by another and he refused to become vegetarian like the spineless beings who weren’t fit to be called Almightys.  His fingernails had dug into his palms.  He was an Almighty.  This wasn’t Viola.  He couldn’t save her.  She was dead.  In one fluid movement, he’d grabbed the knife and slashed the Producer’s throat.

As he’d watched the blood drain from the Producer, the fear in the young male’s eyes had been replaced by calm acceptance.  That was how death should be, not traumatic but peaceful.  He’d promised the dying Producer that he’d devise a better process before the next time and he had.

She finished her dinner and leaned back in the chair.  “It was fabulous.  Thank you.”

He smiled and picked up the book.  It was time to read the next chapter.  One day closer to the end.

“Excuse me, Professor.”  Afar stood on the bottom stair peering around the corner.

“Yes?”  He frowned, setting the book on his lap.

“This just arrived for you.”  Afar held up a letter.

He waved the Servant over, taking the missive.  It was a summons from Jason.  It was late what did the little shit want now.

“Shall I deliver a reply?” asked Afar.

“No.”  He’d like to send a message for Jason to drop dead.  He turned toward her.  “I’m sorry.  I won’t be able to read tonight.”

“Okay.”  Her face fell a little.

He entered the cage and unlocked her hands and feet.  He ran his hand down her head.  Her hair was thick and soft.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  He turned and left, locking the door behind him.

“Goodnight, Professor.”  She stood.  It was a rule that she not move until the cage was locked and she was a good Producer, always obeying the rules.

“Goodnight,” he nodded at her and her soft smile sent a pain through his chest.

He followed Afar up the stairs, a sense of relief washing through him.  He now had another day.  Perhaps, if he conserved the meat he ate, he could use what he had from the last Producer for Jason’s party.  The food wouldn’t be as good if he used frozen meat instead of fresh, but most of Jason’s guests would be well into their cups by dinner.  His recipes were wasted on them anyway, but he still had his meals to prepare.  He tapped his lips.  He could use one of the roasts and bake several pot pies.  That’d make the meat last longer and the brown flaky crust of the pot pie sounded delicious.

He changed into something less casual and left his house.  Although he was glad for the interruption, this had better be important.  It wouldn’t be good to have Jason believe that when he barked Peter Conguise came running.  He’d have to set the Supreme Almighty straight about that.

CHAPTER 32:  CONGUISE

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CONGUISE ENTERED JASON’S PALATIAL house.  The four-story, brick building was beautiful but much too ornate for his taste.  Of course, his and Jason’s tastes had never been similar.  The Supreme Almighty had a flair for opulence whereas he preferred quality.

An impeccably dressed House Servant escorted him to Jason’s personal study.  There were voices coming from inside.  He was not the first to arrive.  He’d have to lecture Jason about this summons later.  It wouldn’t do to present a less than united front.  Even when not at war, he needed Jason in his back pocket.

The House Servant gave a quick knock and opened the door.  The voices halted as Conguise entered.  It was only Jason and Cal.  This must be an update on their hunt and it couldn’t be good.  If all had gone well, Jason would’ve waited until tomorrow to tell him.

“Where’s Jethro?”  The boy had better not have been hurt.  He was too valuable to risk on such a stupid mission.  He should’ve never allowed it.

“He’s not with you?”  Cal turned toward Jason.  “He left the night before I did.  Disobeying orders again.”

“You let him leave on his own, at night.”  Conguise was going to kill Cal himself.  Over the past years, Jethro had become like a son to him.  The boy was intelligent, strong and loyal.  Benedictine would’ve been proud.

“I didn’t let him do anything.  He lives with the Guards and is supposed to obey but your boy has a problem with that.”

“I’ve never had a problem with him obeying me.”  He moved farther into the room.  “Perhaps, he has issues following foolish orders.”

“Stop it, both of you,” said Jason.  “I’m sure the lad is fine.”

Conguise moved to a chair by the desk and took a seat next to Cal.  He couldn’t let Jason suspect that his feelings for Jethro were more than scientific.  Jason had a knack for ferreting out that type of information and using it to his advantage.  “The captain was ordered to send someone with Jethro.”

“We were all to leave together.  It’s not my fault he snuck away.  I’m not a babysitter.”

He glanced at Jason and raised his brow.  They both knew how important Jethro was.

“You were given orders,” said Jason.

“He didn’t leave alone.”  Cal’s lips turned up in distaste.  “A Guard went with him.”

“Good.  Then what is this summons about?”  He relaxed in the chair.  Jethro would be fine with a Guard alongside.  Given a little more time, he wouldn’t need anyone to accompany him.  The forest would be his playground.

Jason’s eyes narrowed but his tone was pleasant, an attempt to conceal his anger.  “There was an issue.  Cal, proceed with your tale but repeat what you’ve already told me.”  His eyes landed on Conguise.  “As soon as I heard about the strange creatures, I stopped the captain and sent for you.”

“Jethro not only disobeyed by leaving for town early but he also disobeyed in the field,” said Cal.

“We’ll discuss that later.”  Jason waved his hand in a get-on-with-it manner.  “Just tell your story.”

Cal cleared his throat.  “I was leading the team on the hunt.  We’d been traveling for hours when I noticed a disruption in the vege—”

Cal would bore them with accolades on his abilities if not stopped.  Conguise’s gaze met Jason’s.

“Start when you heard the screams.”  Jason’s eyes danced with merriment.  Cal was a braggart but he was amusing in his predictability.

“Yes, of course.  Sorry.”  Cal’s face reddened.  The captain still hadn’t learned that he was the only one who liked his incessant boasting.  “We had sighted a lone, adult, male Producer.  I sent the Guards to capture him.  Jethro and I followed.”  His face paled and his eyes glazed over with memory.  “At the first scream, Jethro and I took off toward the sound.  It was horrible.  A cry of true terror.”  He took a drink of his whiskey.  “Jethro arrived first, but I was close behind.”  His eyes darted back and forth between the two other Almightys.  “There were creatures.  Lizard-like but with the faces of Almightys or Guards or something that was...not a lizard and they were big.”  His hand trembled as he tossed back the rest of his drink.  “Over six feet long.  Several Guards were already dead.  The creatures were feeding on them.  Another Guard, poor thing, was being dragged into the bushes.”

“How many were there?” he asked.

“I had thirty Guards with me.”

“Not Guards.  How many Cold Creepers?”  He had no interest in Guards, but this was an actual sighting of his experiments, live and flourishing.  He’d heard rumors of his creations inhabiting the forest, but he’d assumed someone had seen the bodies.

“You’ve heard of them?”  Cal’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Yes.”  He’d created them, but they shouldn’t be alive.

“Why wasn’t I told about them?”  Cal looked between the two.

Jason’s eyes met Conguise’s telling him that this question was his.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement of Jason’s order.  “I assume you’ve been to the exhibit.  Even Almighty children are required to attend—”

“The exhibit?  That’s a carnival show to scare the kids.”

“Obviously not.”  He clasped his hands in his lap.  It was, but Cal was not privy to all the Necessary Truths.

Jason took a sip of his drink, sending the professor a good job tip of his head.

“You mean all those...things in the exhibit exist?”  Cal’s hand shook as he raised his empty glass to his lips and tried to tap out the last drop of whiskey.

Jason took pity on him, taking the glass and adding another few inches of alcohol.

“Back to my original question, how many Cold Creepers were in the pack that attacked you?”  He’d dumped over a hundred dead ones into the sewers before stopping those experiments.  They were an easy creature to create, but they’d all refused to obey no matter how he’d threatened and as the transformation progressed, they’d devolved, losing empathy for even their own kind.

“At least twenty, maybe more.  They were everywhere and more were coming from the bushes.”  Cal’s face was pale.  “I didn’t think we’d make it out alive.”

“How did you escape?  That’s a considerable amount of predators to overcome.”  Especially, those.  They were fast and as vicious as the River-Men, both on land and in water.

“There was nothing we could do for the Guards.  The one who was being pulled into the bushes was killed.  I ordered Jethro to retreat.  Some of the other Cold Creepers—the ones not feeding—had sighted us and were heading our way.”  Cal tossed back his drink and Jason refilled it again.

“And did you...retreat?” he asked.  There was a haunted look in Cal’s eyes that told of more to this tale.

“Most of the Guards had gotten away.”  The captain stared into his glass.

“Most?”  His eyes met Jason’s.  He’d have to answer for the Cold Creepers, but perhaps there was a happy ending to this story.

“One Guard was still there.  Surrounded.  There was nothing we could do.  To try and help would’ve been suicide.”  Cal glanced up and repeated, “I ordered Jethro to retreat.”

“Did he?”  He forced his voice to remain calm.

“No.  He pulled free from my grasp and stormed toward the Guard, right into the midst of those creatures.”  Cal looked from one to the other.  “I yelled for him to stop, to come back but he ignored me.”

His heart skipped a beat.  Jethro was okay. They’d told him that when he’d arrived.

“It was amazing.”  Cal stared at Conguise.  “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.  One of those things launched itself at the boy.  I thought it was the end and it was, for the...Cold Creeper.”  His eyes got a faraway look as he slipped into memory.  “Jethro stretched out his arm, barely looking at the creature, and stabbed the thing right in the heart.  It fell dead and the lad continued forward, not missing a step.”  He took another drink.  “He was so calm and fast.  I’ve never seen anything that fast.”

Silence sat in the room like an uninvited guest as his eyes met Jason’s.

“Then what happened?”  He leaned forward unable to help himself.  His experiment worked.  It worked!

“I...I...Jethro said for me to leave.  It was my chance.  The creatures were focused on him.”  Cal’s hands shook so hard that whiskey sloshed from the glass.  “I left but I was coming back.  I wasn’t abandoning him.  I was going to get help.”

His emotions raced from anger to excitement.  They should demote the man right here and now.  He’d left Jethro and one Guard to battle almost two dozen Cold Creepers.  However, Jethro had won.  The boy had surpassed his expectations.

“Hold on Peter, there’s more,” said Jason.

Cal shook his head, returning from his thoughts.  “Oh, right.  Sorry.  I raced back to camp and gathered the Guards to go back to help Jethro when he and the Guard returned.  Jethro had managed to save the fellow.”  He paused.  “I have no idea how he did it.”

“Thank you, Cal.  You may leave us now,” said Jason.

Cal looked confused for a moment and then stood.  “Sirs, if I may speak my mind.”

Jason’s eyes held a hint of humor when he nodded.

“I’m not sure where Jethro learned to fight like that but I believe all Almightys in the military should receive the same training.”  His tone lowered to almost a whisper.  “He dispatched those creatures like they were baby birds.”

“So, Jethro has proven to be an asset.”  He had to rub it in a little.  Cal was such a condescending ass.  He took a sip of his drink and fought a smile at the captain’s grimace.  This made Jason’s summons worthwhile.

“His fighting is an asset, but he is no soldier.  He once again disobeyed a direct order,” said Cal.

“And by doing so saved a life,” he said.

“A Guard’s life, sir,” said Cal.  “The next time, disobeying may result in the loss of a life, Guard or even Almighty.”

He tipped his head in acceptance.  “I’m sure he’s trying to follow orders.  It doesn’t come as easily to some as others.”  He didn’t care if Jethro obeyed Cal, but it was imperative that the boy obeyed him.  It was a fine line they traveled.  “We’ll talk to him.”

“Sirs.”  Cal bowed and exited the room.

As soon as the door shut, he tossed back his drink and refilled it.  “This is cause for celebration.”  He raised his glass in toast.  “I’d hoped he’d be able to fight, but I hadn’t been positive.  His senses are stronger, keener than ours, but at the core he is still an Almighty.”

“I’m not sure we should be celebrating yet.”  Jason took a drink just the same.  “We still don’t know if he can be controlled.  Cal hasn’t been able to do so.  If we can’t control him, this experiment is as worthless as the others.”

“Cal’s an idiot,” he said.  And so was Jason.  Jethro would never be worthless.

“Cal is the best soldier we have.  He made a mistake by killing the prisoners but he’s not an idiot.”

“He and Jethro got off on the wrong foot.”  He took a drink.  “Jethro was created for battle.  It’s not a surprise he chose to fight instead of run.  I don’t think we can count that as disobeying orders.  Has Cal said anything else about his performance?”

“No.”  Jason took another drink.  “We need to test his obedience.”

“I’ll talk with him when he comes for his shot.  I can get a feeling for his desire to obey.”  This would be the week when the transformation was strongest.  “He’ll be more malleable soon.  That should mend some of the issues between him and his captain.”

“I hope so,” said Jason.  “He needs to be fully under our control before he encounters anyone he knows like his former Guard.”  His eyes landed on the professor.  “We don’t need our secret weapon working for the Allied Classes.”

“That won’t happen.”  He’d kill Jethro himself before he allowed that.

“Like you made sure none of your experiments escaped?”

He clenched his glass. He’d hoped that the alcohol along with the news would’ve caused Jason to forget about that part of this meeting.  “I don’t know how that could’ve happened.”

“None escaped?  All are accounted for?”

“Yes.”  He’d had some escapes over the years but he’d always tracked the creatures down and brought them home.

“You need to review your records because these Cold Creepers didn’t form out of the air.”

“There is no need to check my records.”  He rolled the whiskey around his glass.

“Then how do you explain over twenty of these monsters roaming our woods?”  Jason’s voice was low and threatening.

He had to be careful.  He needed Jason’s funding and discretion.  If information about what he was doing was leaked to the public, he’d be the one in jail.  He’d covered his tracks early on but had grown lax over the years.  It was time to rework his records.  “I dumped the bodies in the sewer.  I can only guess that perhaps some of them weren’t dead.”

“Not dead?”  Jason burst from his chair.  “You set them loose?  Escape I could understand, but you turned them loose!”

“I did not!  We checked.  They were dead.”

“So, they came back to life?”  Jason’s face paled.  “Is that even possible?  What exactly have you been doing in your lab?”

“No.  That’s not possible.”  He refilled Jason’s glass.  He needed the man drunk.  “Sit down and I’ll explain what could’ve happened.”  He’d looked into this after he’d heard the first rumors about creatures in the forest.  He’d been sure someone had seen the carcasses, prayed that was all, but it appeared he was mistaken.

Jason sat down, frowning.

“Either my Guards worked with these creatures and helped them escape, which I doubt.”  Since all his creations were lethal.  “Or they can hibernate.”

“Hibernate?  Like bumblebees?”

“Yes.  We may have mistaken a deep hibernation for death.”  His hand trembled slightly as he took a drink.

“That’s a big mistake.”  Jason filled his glass to the rim and chugged half.  “If the public ever finds out...”

“We blame it on Hugh.  They already believe he created the other abominations.”

“They’ll want him punished,” said Jason.  “We need to capture him alive.”

“As long as he dies eventually.”  He tipped his drink in salute.

CHAPTER 33:  JETHRO

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JETHRO’S HEAD POUNDED AS he hopped out of the carriage, made his way to Conguise’s house and knocked on the door.  It was time for his shot.  He couldn’t delay any longer even though his skin crawled at the thought of taking the medicine.

Afar’s nose twitched with distaste as he opened the door and stepped aside.  “Are you hurt?”  He led the way toward the professor’s study.

“No.”

“Is there an emergency?”

“No.  Why?”  He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate his headache.  The Servant never spoke to him.  He had no idea why today was special.

“There must be some reason you’d arrive smelling of drink and”—Afar turned his head slightly—“carnal pleasures.”

“I showered.”  The day was going from bad to worse.

“Did you use soap?”

He hadn’t.  It’d been similar to the last time he and Indy had gone drinking.  He’d found Leslie, but she’d wanted nothing to do with him.  Indy had tried to take him to a brothel but he’d already had his eye on another Servant.  She was taller and thinner than Leslie—better in that regard, but her hair had been black.  When he’d woken he’d taken a cold shower to wash away the evidence of the night but it hadn’t washed away the memories.  Desire warred with guilt and in the sober light of day guilt was winning.

“I thought not.”  Afar stopped at the door to the study.  “Be thankful the professor is an Almighty.”

“He won’t be able to smell me.”  The tension fled.

Afar’s nose wrinkled.  “He won’t be able to smell your...nighttime exercises, but he’d have to be missing his nose not to smell the alcohol.”  He knocked on the door and opened it before Jethro could reply.

Afar smirked at him as Jethro entered the room.

“Jethro, sit.”  Conguise opened his desk drawer and removed the syringes.  “How has the hunting been going?”

“Okay.”  He plopped on a chair, wondering if the professor had been briefed on the Cold Creeper incident.  “Cal’s an ass but I’m getting used to him.”

“You can learn a lot from the captain.”

Jethro was unable to contain his snort of derision.  Conguise came forward and Jethro held out his arm.

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to go without these shots?”

“Why?”  Conguise drew some blood.  “I didn’t think they bothered you.”

“They don’t.”  He stared at his feet.  The sight of his blood filling the tube was making him restless.  “But, they make me tired and they dull my senses.”  He looked up and met the professor’s eyes.  “My senses need to be alert in the forest.”

“I heard about your last encounter.”  Conguise capped the tube, slipping it into his pocket.

“The Cold Creepers?”

“Yes.”  Conguise pulled another needle from his pocket.  This one filled with the yellow serum.

“What did you hear?” he asked.  The professor had always been excited about his physical achievements but he wasn’t sure how the man would feel about this.  This went beyond running or swimming faster than other college kids.  This was fighting better than Guards, better than wild monsters.

“I heard you were extraordinary.  That you fought and saved a Guard.”

“Cal told you that?”

“Yes, does that surprise you?”  Conguise studied him.

“Yeah.  I figured he’d take the credit.”

Conguise laughed.  “That is one of his weaknesses, but no, he was impressed with your abilities.  He even suggested that other Almightys train where you trained.”

“But I didn’t train.”  His eyes wandered to the serum.

“No.  You did not.”  The professor plunged the needled into his arm.

The fluid was cold as it flowed into his blood.  His arm trembled as if not wanting the medicine, but soon a lassitude swept over him and he slid down in the chair.

“Cal also said you disobeyed orders.”  Conguise walked back to his desk.

“Figures.  The coward was going to leave Indy to die.”

“It was the smart thing to do.  An Almighty’s life is more valuable than a Guard’s.”

Jethro kept his eyes shut.  He wasn’t in the mood to argue.  He only wanted to sleep.

“Don’t you agree?”

It seemed Conguise wanted an argument.  He straightened a bit and opened his eyes.  “No, I don’t.  I would’ve left Cal to his fate.  He’s a coward and a bully.”

“He is your kind.  This Guard is not.  You must remember that.”  Conguise’s lips were thin slashes in his face.

“Indy would’ve had my back.  Cal wouldn’t have.”

“That’s a Guard’s purpose.  To protect Almightys.”  Conguise put the needles into a different desk drawer and sat.  “You used to know your place.  Your father taught you correctly.”

“Leave my father out of this.”  His dad would never have understood.  He didn’t understand.  This was all because of Trinity.  Maybe, it wasn’t attraction as much as guilt over how he’d treated her.  She’d saved his life.  She’d been his friend when he’d had none and he’d ignored her.  He’d hurt her and it stung.

“I can’t.  I feel somewhat responsible for you.  Your father and I were friends of a sort and he’d want someone to guide you since he cannot.”

He took a deep breath.  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but you are not my father.”

Conguise’s eyes narrowed for a second and Jethro sensed anger and a hint of fear.  He sniffed but there was nothing.  His senses were dulling fast.

“I see.”  The professor stood.  “Perhaps, you should go”—he stiffened a bit—“back to the bar and have another drink.  In that, your father would be proud.”

Anger made him sit up, but it was quickly replaced by exhaustion and more guilt.  The professor had done so much for him and he was acting like a child.  “I’m sorry.”

Conguise remained silent, staring down at him.

“I’m not myself.  I don’t know what comes over me right before and after my shots.”  He stood.  “I am sorry.  You’re right of course.  Indy is only a Guard but he’s on my team.”

“You should feel empathy for them, but remember you’re better than they are.”

“I know.”  It was what the professor wanted to hear, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.  Indy was a friend.  Jackson had been a friend.  Trinity had been a friend.  He couldn’t count that many Almightys as true friends, ones who’d risk their lives for him.

“Stay awhile and visit.  It’s been too long.”  Conguise moved back to his desk.

He sat down.  He wanted to sleep but Conguise wasn’t a young man.  The death of his father had taught him to cherish the short time he had with those important to him.

“Tell me of the Cold Creepers.  I’ve never encountered one in the wild.”

“You’ve seen them in captivity?”  He’d never even imagined things like that existed.

“The Exhibit.”

He nodded, wishing he’d paid more attention when he’d gone there as a child.  Everyone had claimed that the creatures in the Exhibit were House Servants and Guards in costumes.  Apparently, everyone had been wrong.

CHAPTER 34:  JETHRO

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WHEN JETHRO AWOKE HE took stock of his surroundings, sniffing and listening.  Everything was muffled like his head was encased in cotton and his body ached as if he’d been trampled by a Grunt.  He sat up and moaned.  Make that four Grunts.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands.

He’d stayed at Conguise’s house numerous times over the past few years, but this time he had no memory of leaving the study and entering his room.  He’d have to tell the professor about the blackout.  Perhaps the fight with the Cold Creepers had been too much for him, but if that were the case, the professor might insist he leave the Protective Services which meant he’d be back at the Producer Camps.  He dragged his hand down his face.  The blackout could’ve been from his night of drinking and not the fight.  Yeah, that was probably it.  His father used to lose memories when he’d consumed too much alcohol.  Of course, that’d always occurred the night of the drinking not the next day, but everyone was different.  His stomach grumbled.  He was starving.  It was dark outside.  He’d slept the day away.  He put his shoes on and headed for the kitchen.  If he blacked out again, he’d mention it, otherwise there was no reason to worry the professor.

He opened the refrigerator, pulling out everything he needed to make a sandwich.  He was getting ready to sink his teeth into the masterpiece when a thud sounded from downstairs.  He walked to the pantry door and opened it.  The sound of shuffling drifted up the stairs.  One of the Servants or Guards could’ve gotten trapped downstairs or hurt.  He flipped on the light switch.

“Who’s down there?”  He called out quietly as he headed down the stairs.  Conguise was a harsh master and there was no reason to get anyone in trouble.

There was more shuffling but no one answered.

He stepped off the last stair, suddenly wishing he’d brought a weapon.  This could be a burglar.  If he hadn’t just had his shot, he wouldn’t worry, but he was weak now.

He peeked around the corner and froze.  A large cage encompassed most of the room.  A female Producer cowered in the corner.  Memories of Trinity in their barn swarmed over him like bees, stinging and pricking his brain.  He’d spent all his time there, talking to her, reading to her, telling her stories and touching her—simple, innocent brushes of fingers against soft skin.  He staggered back a step.  He’d loved her.  At that moment, at that time he’d loved her.  He hadn’t cared that she was a Producer...No, she wasn’t a Producer.  She was a House Servant, but that hadn’t mattered either.  He’d loved her.

“Who are you?”  The Producer’s big, brown eyes watched him closely as she straightened a little from her crouched position.

He blinked, his mind returning to the basement.  “Jethro.  What’s your name?”

“Blue.”

“That’s a pretty name.”  He moved closer but stopped as she pushed herself against the back of the cage.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I promise.”  He smiled and she relaxed a little.  He took another step forward and she didn’t cringe, so he continued.  “What are you doing here?”  His gaze roamed the enclosure, stumbling over the chains at the table before freezing on the rail that hung from the ceiling.  He knew exactly what she was doing in Conguise’s basement and his memory slammed backward to the Night of the Trackers and Viola.  He’d eaten her.  He’d had seconds.  He swallowed back the bile that clawed its way up his throat.  It would’ve been Trinity if the two hadn’t switched places.

“Are you okay?”  Blue crept to the front of the cage.  “Maybe, you should sit down.”  She motioned to a chair and he dropped onto it.

He bent, putting his head between his knees and breathing deeply, forcing the memories away.  After several moments he straightened.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not feeling well.”

“Would you like something to eat?”  She moved toward a table where there was a plate with cookies.

“No.  No, thank you.”  He couldn’t think about food, not right now, not here with her.

“Oh.  Okay.”  She stayed by the table, glancing at him nervously.

He took another deep breath.  He had to get himself under control.  She wasn’t Trinity or Viola.  She was a Producer and a Producer’s purpose was to feed the others.  It was the way the world worked.

“Are you a friend of the professor’s?” she asked.

“Yes.  You?”  The word had slipped out, an ingrained response.

“I...I think so.”  She blushed slightly.

His heart twisted.  She wasn’t Conguise’s friend.  She was his dinner.

“I mean, I belong to the professor.  He bought me from auction, but I think we’re kind of friends.  He reads to me every day.  The story is lovely.  I’ve never heard anything like it and he encourages me to ask him questions and tell him what I think.”

“Conguise?  He reads to you?”  His look of incredulousness must have offended her because her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here.  I never see anyone but the professor.”  She moved over to her bed, picking up a picture book from the floor—probably, the initial thud that’d drawn him downstairs.  “I think you should leave.  I don’t want to get into trouble.”

She had no idea how much trouble she was already in, but he stood.  Telling her wouldn’t do anyone any good.  “Okay.”  He paused at the stairs.  Keep going.  Don’t be a fool.  Still, the words escaped.  “Do you want me to set you free?”  He had no idea what he’d do with her if she said yes.

“No.  I can’t go home.”  She paled.  “I wasn’t chosen to breed, and I...I don’t want to go back to that other place.  It was awful.  The professor saved me from there.”  Her eyes filled with tears.  “Please don’t make me leave.”

“Calm down.  I won’t.  I promise.”  He hesitated.  “We shouldn’t tell the professor I came down here.  I don’t think he’d like it.”

“Okay.  I don’t want to disappoint him.”

He started up the stairs.

“Goodnight.  Hope you feel better.”

Her whispered words followed him up the stairs, causing his insides to tangle in a war of guilt and acceptance.  He turned off the light and closed the pantry door.  He sat down at the table, staring at his sandwich.  He’d known the professor couldn’t eat meat that others had prepared but he’d had no idea the man was slaughtering Producers in his basement.  His stomach rumbled.  This wasn’t her, but it was someone like her.  Still, he’d given her a choice and she’d chosen to stay.  They all chose their fate in the end.  He lifted the sandwich and took a bite.

CHAPTER 35:  JETHRO

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JETHRO SAT AT THE dinner table pushing the disgusting, vegetarian concoction around on his plate.  After leaving Conguise’s house that morning, he’d gone home, excited to see his mom and sister, but he’d been so exhausted that he’d slept most of the day.  He’d awoken just in time for dinner, lucky him.

His mother’s cooking hadn’t improved.  He might have to go out tonight just to get something edible.  Maybe, he’d meet up with Indy.  The professor had sent a note to the local barracks explaining that it’d be at least two days before Jethro could return to duty.  Since Indy had to travel with him, the Guard also had some free time and planned on putting it to good use.  Indy had stopped by while he was sleeping and had left him a note.  The Guard would be at the bar again tonight and every night until they had to leave.

“Aren’t you hungry?” asked Mom.  “You need to eat.  You’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine.  Just tired.  The shot.”  It was a lie but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Kim gave him a disbelieving look from across the table.

“What’s your problem?” he asked.  She’d been giving him dirty looks all through dinner.

“Really?  You have to ask?”  She dropped her fork on the plate.

The clatter rang in his ears, louder than normal.  His eyes darted across the table.  The fork was motionless now, silent.

“Kim, this isn’t the time,” said Mom.

“When is the time?  After he’s arrested our friends?  After he’s killed innocent Producers?”

He tapped his fork on the edge of his dish.  The sound was muffled which was normal after his shot.  He dropped his fork and for a moment, the sound echoed through his skull.  He straightened, excited.  His senses were already improving.  It usually took days.

“Your brother isn’t going to do either of those things.”

“Wake up, Mom.  That’s exactly what he has been doing.  He’s visited the Producer Camps.”  She shot him a disgusted look.  “Took stock of our inventory.  Which ones are you going to kill?  The older ones like Mom or the children?”

“They’re not children.”  He glared at his sister.  Her naiveté was getting tiresome.

“Or did you choose the young adults like Trinity.”  Kim leaned forward, her voice lowering.  “You can’t take out your misplaced anger on her so you’ll find a surrogate.”

“I don’t need this.”  He pushed away from the table.  That comment had struck too close to home.  It’s what he’d been doing with every House Servant he’d bedded.

“Tell Mom the real reason you aren’t eating.”  Kim’s eyes were hard and he couldn’t look away from her challenge.

They’d been like this as kids, arguing and fighting over every little thing and yet she’d been his closest friend.

“Tell her what you really want to eat,” she prodded.

“I’m an Almighty.”  His eyes never left hers.  “I understand what that means.  I understand that we’re different than the other classes and—”

“Better.  Don’t you mean better than the other classes?”

His teeth ground together and his fists clenched at his sides.  Indy had helped him, saved him numerous times, stood up with him against the other Guards, against Cal.  Indy was his friend, but Indy was a Guard.  He pushed the guilt aside.  “Yes.  We’re better than the others.”  He put his hands on the table, leaning toward her.  “Jackson understood that even though you never could.”

She gasped.

“Jethro,” snapped his mom.  “That’s enough.”

“I’m leaving.”  He headed for the door but Kim wasn’t one to lose a fight.

She trailed after him, peppering him with questions.  “Where are you going?  Who are you going to betray tonight?  Jackson, who you’ve known all your life and who has always been there for you?  Or have you forgotten how he used to help you sneak into the forest and save snacks for you when you were punished?”  Kim grabbed his jacket from his hands.  “Did you know that he saved for months to buy you that microscope?”

“Jackson made his choice.”  He yanked his coat from her.

“Yes, he did.  He chose to fight for the right side unlike you.”

He grabbed Kim by the shoulders and almost threw her across the room, but he stopped, his muscles twitching.  “Do you think I’m doing this by choice?”

“What do you mean by that?”  Confusion had replaced the anger in her eyes.

“Do you want to tell her, Mom, or should I?”  He dropped his hands to his sides.

“I had no choice.”  Mom’s blue eyes were stark in her pale face.

“What are you talking about?”  Kim looked from one to the other.

“We’re broke.  You and Mom spent all our money on the Producer Camps.”  He’d done it.  Revealed the dirty little secret.  Taking care of the family was still his burden but it felt lighter somehow.

“And you can’t go back to college.  Who cares?  You’ll live.  We’re saving lives, Jethro.  Lives like yours and mine and Trinity’s.”

He wanted to laugh at her ignorance but nothing about this situation was funny.  “Yeah, you saved lives...for a moment.”  He dropped onto the couch.  They’d lost everything for nothing.  “The Supreme Almighty is already talking about taking the camps.  Meat prices are too high.  We’re going to lose the ho—”

“He can’t do that.  The camps have been in our family for generations.  They belong to us,” said Kim.

“No.  They don’t.  They’re assigned to us but they can be reassigned—”

“They can’t take the camps.”  Kim’s face had turned ashen.  “Whoever gets them will kill the Producers.”

“That’s their purpose.”  The words were as exhausted as he was.

“How can you say that?”  Kim stepped away from him as if being near him tainted her.  “I know you blame Trinity for what happened to Dad but even you can’t want her dead and slaughtered.”

“I don’t.”  The thought of Trinity dead caused a chill to run through him.  “I want her captured and I want her to pay for her crimes.  What happens to her is up to our judicial system.”  His words came out strong and sure, but they were lies, hollow like him.  He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything for Trinity or Jackson.  His family had to come first and that meant he had to do his job.

“What crimes?  Being born a Producer?”

“She isn’t a Producer.  She’s a House Servant.”

“She’s half-Producer.”

“That’s impossible.”  He was so sick of this argument, this lie.  “We’ve been over this.  Do I have to explain again how that is not and will never be genetically possible?”

“No.  I need you to explain what happened to you.”  Kim sat down next to him, grabbing his hand.  “The brother I remember was kind not...”

“Not what, Kim?”  He needed the words to spike his temper.

She shook her head.

“Come on.  Say it.  Say it!  Tell me what you think of me.”

“No.”  Her face twisted in anguish.

“I’ll tell you what I think of you?”  Without anger he’d cave in to her argument, to her side and he couldn’t, too much depended on him.  Their livelihood depended on him.

“Jethro, stop right now,” said Mom.  “Both of you stop!”

They ignored her, too caught up in their fight.

He looked Kim right in the eyes.  “You’ve debased yourself.”

“Jethro!  Do not speak to your sister like that.”

Kim flinched and tried to jerk free from his grasp but he held tight.  She’d started this.

“She’s lain with a Guard and don’t pretend you didn’t know, Mom.”  He glared at his mother.  She could’ve stopped it.  “They did it right under your roof.”  He turned toward his sister.  “Do you know how many fights I got into in college, defending you?”

Kim’s face paled as tears formed in her eyes.

“Do you know what people think?  If you’ll lie with a Guard, you’ll lie with anyone.”  His voice softened.  Her tears were killing him, but this had to be said.  He had to make her understand.

“I loved him.”  Kim’s eyes were wide but her face had grown taut.  “And you know what else?  I don’t care what people think.”  She jerked free from his grasp and stood.  “Jackson is a better man than any of you.”

“He is not a man.”  He stood, inches away from her.  “He is a Guard.  He is beneath you.”  Flashes of his nights with the House Servants pushed to the surface.  The words that spilled from his mouth were for him, not her.  “Dad would be disgusted.”

Kim’s eyes widened and her lips trembled as she ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door.

He turned toward his mother.  He had to make at least one of them understand.  “If we don’t do something, we’re going to lose the house too.”

Mom crossed the room and took his hand, pulling him down next to her on the couch.  “They may be able to take the camps.  I don’t know about that but they can’t take the house.  If I’d known that was why you joined their army, I would’ve told you sooner.”  She glanced away.  “I thought you didn’t want to run the encampments.  I understand why you wouldn’t.”

“I know about the loan,”  He squeezed her hand.  “You’re late on your payments.”

“I...I didn’t want you to know about that.”  Her face reddened slightly.  “I’ve made such a mess of the money.  Your father always took care of those things and...the Producers need so much.”

“It’s okay.”  He kissed her cheek.  “I’ve bought us some time, but sooner or later we’ll send Producers to the Warehouse District or we’ll lose the camps and possibly the house, if we don’t catch up on the payments.”

“Jethro, they won’t take the house.”  Her hand trembled in his.  “I’m not that far behind on the mortgage.  The man at the bank said it was okay, a little late payment fee, but that was all.”  She closed her eyes for a long moment.  “I can’t lose this house.  Your ancestors owned this property before the Great Death.”

“It’ll be okay.  I promise.”  He kissed her hand.  He’d make this right for her.  “Don’t worry.  My salary is decent and I don’t spend much.”  They’d be in debt for years.  He’d never be able to move out on his own, but they wouldn’t lose the house.

“You’ve always been such a good boy.”  She touched his face with her other hand in a mother’s caress.  “You don’t have to fight for them.  We’ll figure something out.  You can get a different job.”

“You still don’t understand.  Everything is shut off to me.  No one will hire me.”

“I’m sure your sister can get you a job at the coffee shop.”

“That pay isn’t enough.”  He stood.  “We’ll lose the house.”  He had to make her understand.

“We’ll figure something out.”  Her chin jutted out in stubbornness.

“No, Mom.  We won’t.  I have to fight for them.”  He kissed her cheek again.  “I want to fight for them.”  It was partially true.  He didn’t want to work in a coffee shop or run the Producer Camps, hunting in the woods was in his blood now.  He’d never be happy in a lab or locked away indoors.  “You may not agree but what Jackson and the others are doing isn’t good for our society.  The other classes are different than us.  They need us to guide them.”

“Guide them?  We aren’t guiding them, we’re killing them.”

“They were killing themselves.  You didn’t see how they were living.  The areas of the city they’d taken over were dangerous.  They were killing each other and starving.  They can’t take care of themselves.”

“You’re wrong.  You know Jackson.  He never needed us to guide him.”

“He freed Hugh.  He could’ve used some guidance before getting involved in that.”  He almost bit his tongue.  His mom refused to believe anything negative about Hugh.

“Jackson did the right thing.  Hugh didn’t deserve to die.”  Her lips were tight with anger.

“Stop defending him.”  Hate and anger surged through him.  “It’s his fault Dad’s dead.  He was responsible for the Trackers.  He should’ve made sure they took their shots.”

“It wasn’t his fault.  Your father ran those camps, not Hugh.  Your father, Araldo rest his soul, was a flawed man.  He could be cruel and you know it.”

“He didn’t deserve to die.  Not like that.”  His dad’s screams still woke him some nights.  He should’ve done something.

“No, he didn’t, but that doesn’t make it Hugh’s fault.”  Her voice was soft and that angered him even more.

His hands trembled at his sides.  He’d never understand her.  It was her husband, her partner who’d been murdered.  “Hugh didn’t do his job.  He didn’t make sure the Trackers were secured and sedated.  He needs to answer for Dad’s death.”

“He kept you out of prison.”  Mom’s eyes were like steel.

“He shouldn’t have.”  He grabbed his jacket and fled the house.  He was grateful for not going to prison but that wasn’t enough, not any longer.  He’d gladly take his punishment for his part in that night, except then the professor would find out and he’d lose him too.

CHAPTER 36:  JETHRO

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JETHRO WAS GETTING RESTLESS.  They’d been hunting for almost three weeks and hadn’t come across much.  They’d found some scent but it’d led nowhere.  Indy had heard rumors that the troops in other parts of the forest were encountering numerous problems.  Everywhere they turned they were stumbling into either Cold Creepers or some other creature that’d only ever been spoken of in legend.

In a way, their unit had been lucky.  Once again, they’d encountered some Cold Creepers but it’d been a group of three and he and the Guards had eaten well that night.  It’d been a little gamey but their supply of fresh meat was gone and they’d found few woodland animals to supplement their meals, which was strange.  The forest should be teeming with wildlife, but it wasn’t which meant other predators were nearby—a lot of other predators.  The escaped House Servants and Guards had to be close but they were covering their tracks well.

Yesterday, they’d discovered the scent of a House Servant but had lost it in the bushes.  The Servant had probably taken to the trees.  He’d suggested they send for some Servants to travel with them.  He was still living that down.  According to the Guards and the other Almightys, Servants were useless in the forest.  In his opinion, that was a load of Gruntshit because they were pretty adept at avoiding them.

“Almost time to stop for the night.”  Indy trotted up alongside him.  “We Guards would prefer to hunt at night but Captain Cal...”  He shrugged.

He’d stopped hiding his abilities around the Guard.  Ever since their return, Indy had stayed by his side.  It’d taken three days to get back to base camp because he’d had to stop and rest every few hours.  When they’d arrived the other Guards, the ones loyal to Cal, had sensed his weakness.  Indy’s presence had saved him from more than a few beatings.

Later as his senses heightened, he’d grown tired of making up lies when he heard or smelled something.  He’d explained that his elevated senses had something to do with his surgery.  It was nice not having to hide his abilities around someone and the two had grown closer.  It also didn’t hurt that Indy was irreverent and as disgusted with Captain Cal’s leadership as Jethro was.  According to some of the older Guards, the Captain was a great leader in the city, but his skills didn’t carry over into the forest.

“There,” whispered a young Guard in the front.

They all paused, scanning the area.  Two Guards stood in the distance.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?”  Their lips were moving but he couldn’t make out the words.  His senses were good right now and although sometimes they did wane, it’d always been right after his shot.

“No.”  Indy cocked his head, listening.  “The wind is carrying the sound away.”

“Then it should’ve carried our scent to them...”  His nerves tingled in warning.

“Fan out,” ordered Cal.  “If they see us, bring them down, otherwise follow them.  They may lead us to the others.”

They all moved out, quiet and slow.

“Stay close,” he whispered to Indy.  “Something isn’t right about this.”  He crept back by Cal.

“Captain, I think a few of us should circle around and scout ahead.  This—”

“Nonsense.  We can’t take the chance of them seeing us or stumbling across a larger group of them.”

“Sir, this doesn’t feel right.  The AC Guards should’ve heard or smelled us by now.”

“We finally have the chance to bring in some escapees and you’re balking.”  Cal glanced at the AC Guards who’d started walking away, still oblivious to the approach of the other Guards.  “Do you know them?  Is one of them your former Guard?”

“No.  I’ve never seen them before.”  He’d given Cal no reason to question his loyalty.  He’d chosen his side.  He wouldn’t like it, but he’d bring Jackson down if he had to.

“Stay by me.”  Cal sent him a suspicious look.

“I’m not a risk to this mission,” he said through clenched teeth.  “I’d never betray these Guards.”  Many were like family to him now.

“Betray the Guards.”  Cal snorted a half-laugh.  “That figures.  You’ll stay in the back and that’s a direct order.”

He glared at the older Almighty’s back as he fell in line.  His desire to be a good soldier warred with his willingness to obey an idiot.  The Guards kept telling him that soldiers followed orders no matter what.  Since he’d been left with little choice but to be a soldier, he’d try and be a good one.

He trudged through the brush behind everyone.  There was no way the AC Guards didn’t know they were being followed.  It was impossible.  There were too many soldiers in this troop.  His skin prickled as his instincts screamed that following these Guards was dangerous.

One of the Guards whose job it was to relay messages from the front to the back trotted over to Cal.

“We lost sight of them, sir,” said the Guard.

“What?” asked Cal.  “How could you lose sight of them?  You’re soldiers, hunters.”  He looked at his second in command.  “This is unbelievable.”

“We’re trying to pick up their scent,” said the Guard.  “I’m sure we’ll catch it soon.”

“Keep searching,” said Cal.  “They’re around here somewhere.”

The Guard moved to the front to relay the message.

There was a hint of something in the air.  Musky and dense.  He raised his head and sniffed, grabbing Indy’s arm and stopping him.  “Do you recognize that smell?”

Indy inhaled deeply, his eyes widening.  He shifted to catch more scent and sniffed again.  “Stockers.”  His voice was a hushed whisper.

The Guards stopped and the one relaying the messages trotted back to Cal.  “Sir, there’s a village up ahead.”

“A village?  In the forest?”  Cal’s tone was stunned.

“Yes, sir.  From the smell and a few sightings it appears to be a community of Stockers.”

“Good.  They may know where the Guards have set up camp.”  Cal pushed forward.

The Guard paled, following Cal.  “Sir, Stockers, especially those living away from society, are not known to be friendly.”

The captain waved his hand, brushing aside the Guard’s warning, as he moved toward the front of the group.

“This isn’t going to be pretty.”  Indy started to follow Cal.

Jethro grabbed the Guard’s arm again, stopping him.

“I need to be with the pack.”  Indy stared at the other Guards who were heading for the village.

“We’ll stay in back as ordered.”  This was the first time he was thankful for Cal’s idiotic commands.  Stockers were brutal and hard to control when working for Almightys.  A group living on their own would be worse.

As they approached the village, the team merged together, no longer spreading out to cover as much ground as possible.  The closer they got, the more Stockers came out of their homes and into the valley.

“Gruntshit.  There sure are a lot of them,” mumbled Indy.

And they were all armed with some type of weapon, be it stick, shovel or knife.  This wasn’t going to end well.

“Wait here.”  He jogged to catch up with Cal.  “Captain, hold on a minute.”

Cal ignored him and forged ahead.

“If you keep going, we’ll be surrounded.”

“They wouldn’t dare attack soldiers in the Protective Services.”

Cal stopped as about thirty adult, male Stockers broke from their group and approached.  The captain waved and his Guards moved closer.  The Stockers stopped a few yards away.

“What do you want in our village?” The Stocker was large and his beady, black eyes glared at them with hatred.

Cal stared him down.  “We are hunting stray Guards, House Servants and Producers.  We were on the trail of some Guards and lost sight and scent of them.”

The Stocker shrugged.  “That’s your business.  Not ours.”  He raised the knife in his hand.  “Leave our village.”

“We’re here on direct orders from the Supreme Almighty.”  Cal’s back was stiff with indignation.

“Your rules have no authority here.  Go now.”  The Stocker bared his yellow, gnarled teeth.

Other Stockers were moving toward them.  Some were slipping into the forest, probably to circle around behind them.

“We should go.”  Jethro took a step backward.

“The Supreme Almighty has authority over the realm.  The entire realm.  Even”—Cal’s lips curled in a sneer—“this shit-hole you call home.”  He moved a step closer to the Stocker.  “We could annihilate each and every one of you.”

The Stocker snarled and swung the knife at Cal.  Brick launched himself in the path of the blade, grunting in pain as the Stocker’s knife hit home.  Jethro grabbed the captain by the shirt and yanked him backward.  The Guards circled around him and Cal as the Stockers charged, fanning out and attacking from all sides.  The only opening was behind them but it wouldn’t be long before the Stockers were there too.  If that happened, they’d be trapped in the valley.

“Take him to the flanks and retreat!”  He shoved Cal into Duke’s hands and turned to fight.

The Guards were holding the line as they retreated but the Stockers were vicious and stronger than the Guards.  He pushed toward the front.

“Stay!  The Guards of the Protective Services will not retreat!” yelled Cal, who was safely surrounded at the back of the fray by Duke and several other Guards.

The Guards obeyed, stopping their retreat, but they glanced at one another, fear and confusion on their faces.  The idiot was going to get them all killed, including himself.  Stockers were coming out of the forest behind them.  If they stayed, there was no way they’d win this fight.  He raced over to Cal.

“They’re circling us.  We’ll be surrounded in a moment.  Order the retreat.  Now!”

“You’re right.”  Cal’s eyes darted all around, his face flushed with fear.  “We need reinforcements.”  He grabbed a nearby Guard by the arm.  “You and you”—he pointed to another Guard—“come with us.”  He turned and strode quickly toward the forest.

“Retreat!” yelled Jethro again, motioning for the soldiers to fall back.

Cal spun around.  “Stay!  Do not retreat!  Hold the line!  Gather together and hold your ground.”

“That’s suicide,” he shouted at Cal who was once again heading for the forest and safety.

“You need to come with us.  We’ll return with reinforcements.”  Cal paused, waving him forward.

“You’ll never make it back in time.”

The Guards on the perimeter were already engaged in bloody battles with the Stockers and they weren’t faring well.  In several places the Stockers had broken through the ranks.

“We will not surrender to Stockers!” snapped Cal.

Several Guards glanced at them, their eyes wide with fear.

“Come on, Jethro,” shouted Cal.  “That’s an order.”

His eyes met Indy’s.

“Go.”  Indy tried to grin but the fear made it more sickly than cocky.  “We’ll be fine.  We’ll hold the line.”

He respected Indy’s loyalty.  The same feelings surged through him.  The Guards were family and they stayed together, no matter what, but he’d been given a direct order.  He glanced to the front.  There were already four dead Guards and several more were injured, some severely.  “What would it take for you to retreat?”

“We have our orders,” said Indy.  “We won’t retreat.”

“Jethro, come,” shouted Cal.

The Stockers moved closer, forcing the Guards into a tighter circle.  All these Guards would be dead within an hour because Cal was a prideful Grunt’s ass and these Guards were trained to obey.  They needed better orders.  They needed a better leader.  He strode toward the captain, shoving Guards out of his way.  He grabbed Cal’s arm, stopping him.

“Let go of me.”  Cal tried to jerk free but Jethro held tight.  “We need to get out of here...to get help.”

“I’m staying.”  The urge to put his fist into Cal’s face until the man’s head split open was almost overwhelming, but he couldn’t afford to go to jail.  His mother and sister needed him and he needed this job.  Plus, it wouldn’t save the Guards.  He had to be logical.  Appeal to Cal’s prejudice.  “They’ll never hold the line without guidance.  You go.  I’ll stay and command them.”

Cal’s eyes were confused as Jethro’s words registered.  “That’s...actually a good idea.”  He patted Jethro on the shoulder.  “They’d probably run at first chance without one of us to keep them in line.”  He leaned in and whispered.  “If things start to go bad, get out.  Don’t let them retreat, but don’t die here either.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” he said.  Cal hated him, but the captain would rather his favorite Guards died than an Almighty.  It didn’t make sense.  Perhaps it should, but it didn’t, not anymore.

“I don’t but Jason and Conguise do.”  Cal turned to leave.

“Make it official.”  Jethro grabbed his arm again.

“What?”  Cal’s eyes kept darting to the approaching Stockers as sweat trickled down his cheek.

“They won’t obey me unless they know I’m in charge.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Right.”  Cal cleared his throat.  “Until I return with reinforcements, Jethro is your commander,” he shouted as he hurried away.  “Obey Jethro.”

The closest Guards heard and passed along the information.

Jethro grabbed six of the strongest and most seasoned Guards and said, “Follow me.  When the path is clear, get the wounded and bring them to the back of the line.”

As they shoved into the circle of Guards, Indy made his way to Jethro’s side.

“You should go or at least stay in back,” yelled Indy.

“Can’t.  We’re retrieving the wounded.”  He continued his push forward.

“You did notice that all the wounded are past the line of Stockers.”

“Oh, I definitely saw that.”  He grinned at Indy’s worried face.  They’d have to break through the Stockers to collect their injured.  He couldn’t wait.

In a moment he’d be away from the safety of the center of his soldiers and face to face with the Stockers.  His blood hummed and his nose twitched at the scent of fear and blood.  He roared as he shoved to the front.  He grabbed a Stocker by the wrist and spun, yanking the Stocker’s arm behind its back and snapping it.  The Stocker screamed in pain, but that was only the start.  He shoved his knife into the Stocker’s back, hitting one kidney and then the other.  The Stocker collapsed, squealing and he moved on to the next.

Anyone who blocked his Guards’ path to one of their wounded met with him and he fought like he was born to it.  He let his logic and reason go.  He didn’t think.  He acted and his instincts were exceptional.  The Stockers were strong and brutal but he was fast and cunning.

“Don’t kill them,” he shouted at Indy who was behind him.  “Maim them.”

“What?”  Indy lashed out, slashing a Stocker across the arm.

He spun, hitting the Stocker in the face with his elbow and then ducking and jabbing his knife into the Stocker’s knee.  The creature went down with a thud.  He grabbed Indy by the arm before the Guard could slice the Stocker’s throat.

“Watch,” he yelled as he tugged Indy in the direction of his next victim.

Two other Stockers raced to the one he’d just incapacitated.  They grabbed the injured Stocker under his arms and dragged him toward the village.

“Injure only!” shouted Indy to the Guards behind him.

He admired the fact that the Stockers wouldn’t leave their wounded to die.  It was more than he could say for Almightys, but it wouldn’t stop him from using it to his advantage.

He stuck his knife into the back of a Stocker who had one of his Guards by the throat.  The Stocker grunted and spun around as another Guard grabbed the injured soldier and pulled him toward safety.

“You die for that.”  The Stocker snarled at him, baring his large canines.

“That’s what you think.”

In a blur of motion he hit the Stocker, knocking the creature backward.  The Stocker charged toward him and then slowed, his beady eyes dropping to his stomach where Jethro had sliced him open.  The Stocker’s mouth opened and shut as his hands tried to keep his innards from falling out.

A roar echoed through the battle.  A huge Stocker charged toward him, axe over his head as he knocked Guards and other Stockers out of his way.

“I think that was his friend.”  Indy nodded at the injured Stocker who was now kneeling as blood poured from his wound.  “You should get out of here.”  He shielded Jethro with his body.

“Oh, no.  This one’s mine.”  Jethro shoved Indy aside.  He wanted this fight.  Needed a challenge and the monster heading his way might be able to give him that.

“But...”  Indy grabbed his arm.

“Go.  Get the wounded!”  He yelled as he jerked free and raced toward the charging Stocker.

The Stocker swung his axe, bringing it down toward Jethro’s head, but the creature was slow.  Jethro dodged the blow, using his shoulder to slam into the Stocker’s gut.  Jethro grunted as the hit ricocheted through his body.  He spun, slashing at the Stocker as he circled the creature.  The Stocker roared in anger as it swung at Jethro with its fist.  Jethro snarled as he jumped on the Stocker’s back, jabbing his knife into the Stocker’s shoulder.  His instincts screamed for him to hit the jugular, but he wanted this monster hurt, not dead.  The Stocker slammed his hand into Jethro’s head and for a second darkness teased his vision and his grip loosened.  The Stocker, sensing his opponent’s weakness, reached up, clasping Jethro’s head between his huge paws and squeezing.  Jethro wriggled, but couldn’t get free.  The pressure of the Stocker’s hands increased and the blood thudded in his head.  The damn thing was going to pop his skull if he didn’t do something.  He stabbed the Stocker’s hands but the creature only grunted and squeezed harder.  Jethro’s vision blurred and all sound vanished except the blood pounding through his ears.  He wouldn’t die like this.  He would not.  He sank his teeth into the Stocker’s face.  He tried to shake his head but the Stocker’s grip kept him in place, so he clenched his jaw tighter until his teeth met.  The Stocker screamed as Jethro spit out the hunk of flesh and sank his teeth into the Stocker’s ear.  The creature’s grip loosened and it swatted at Jethro, bucking and shaking to knock him off its back.  Jethro’s arms wrapped around the Stocker’s neck as he shook his head until the ear tore free.  He spit it out as the Stocker threw himself backward toward the ground.  Jethro pushed away from the Stocker’s back, hitting the earth.  He was on his feet in a second, while the Stocker rolled in the dirt, trying to regain his balance.  The knife trembled in Jethro’s hand as he stalked his prey.  The Stocker’s eyes met his and narrowed with hatred.

“Jethro, we have all the injured,” yelled Indy.

Jethro snarled at the Stocker.  He was going to kill the beast.  It’d tried to kill him, so it had to die.  Those were the rules.

Indy touched his shoulder and he spun, snarling.  No one kept him from his prey.  No one.

“More are coming.”  Indy nodded toward the village.

“I don’t care.  I’ll kill them all.”  If Indy didn’t get out of his way, he might kill the Guard.

“If we don’t go now, more Guards are going to get hurt or killed.”  Indy’s brown eyes, studied him cautiously.  “You don’t want that, do you?”

No.  Indy was his friend.  The Guards were his friends.  He turned, snarling at the Stocker.  “It’s your lucky day.”  He strode toward his Guards.  “Tighten the ranks and retreat!  Retreat as one!”

CHAPTER 37:  JETHRO

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JETHRO’S TEMPER ROSE AS he adjusted his grip on Brick who he and Indy were half-carrying and half-dragging through the forest.  The large Guard had taken the blow that’d been intended for Cal and wasn’t doing well.  Too many of their Guards had been seriously injured during the fight with the Stockers.  They should’ve retreated and gone back later, surrounding the village and invading it with their entire army, but Cal had been too stupid and too proud.

“Hang on, Brick.  The doctor will have you patched up and drinking at the bar with us in no time,” muttered Indy as they pushed through the brush into camp.

Cal stood in the center of the troops who’d remained behind.  They were ready to deploy.  The captain glared at Jethro as he shoved through the group of Guards and headed toward them.

Jethro stopped, his blood still raging.  He should be exhausted, but he wasn’t.  His nostrils flared, picking up the scent of Cal’s anger and cowardice over the blood that covered him and his Guards.

“We need to get Brick to the medic.”  Indy’s eyes darted between him and Cal.  “Now, Jethro.”

He grunted, glancing at Brick whose head lulled to the side, barely conscious.  His confrontation with Cal would have to wait.  He and Indy followed the injured into the infirmary and placed Brick on a cot.  The tent was already full of wounded Guards.  Some had minor scrapes but most had major wounds.  A nurse scanned Brick’s injuries and called out to the doctor who hurried over and began working on Brick.

“Where is the Remore shit?”  Cal was getting closer to the tent.

He smiled and cracked his neck from side to side, clenching his fists.  His confrontation wouldn’t have to wait after all.

“We need to go.”  Indy grabbed his arm.

“Not yet.  The captain is looking for me.”  Let Cal berate him.  He’d tear the Almighty’s throat out with his teeth.

Hopper, a short, spry Guard who assisted in the hospital tent and often went out drinking with them, nudged Indy.  “Take him out the back.”

Indy tugged on his arm, trying to drag him toward the door at the other end of the infirmary.

“I’m not afraid of Cal.”  This encounter was a long time coming and he wouldn’t be cheated.

“You told me you needed this job.  Your mom and sister are counting on you.”  Indy continued to pull on his arm.

The words pecked at his conscience but he wanted this fight.  Cal was a fool who’d almost gotten them all killed.  Cal was his enemy and he killed his enemies.  He shoved Indy aside and stepped toward the door.

“Don’t do this.” Indy jumped in front of him.  “Not now.  This can wait.”

He tried to shove Indy aside, but the Guard clung to his arm as several of the other Guards who were not seriously injured came forward, helping to block the door.

Hopper tugged gently on his arm, his tone low and soothing.  “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”

Jethro glanced down at his clothes.  He was covered in blood—his uniform stiff and stinking of death and decay.  He ran his hand through his hair pulling out a chunk of flesh.  He sniffed it, glancing at Indy and then tossing it aside.  “I am hungry.”  That was an understatement.  All of a sudden he was starving.  “And thirsty.”  He needed food, drink and a female and not necessarily in that order.

“Okay.  That we can do.”  Indy turned toward Hopper.  “Tell the captain we headed into town.  Jethro’s not feeling well.  He needs his shot.”

He shrugged Indy’s hand off his shoulder.  “I don’t need—”

Indy grabbed him by the back of the neck and whispered.  “You saved their lives, but these are not all friends.  Some are still loyal to Captain Cal.  If you want to get out of here and have some fun we need to lie.”

“You need to hurry.”  Hopper shoved them toward the back door.

Jethro sniffed.  Cal was close.  He could wait to eat and mate.  He took a step toward the front of the tent, but Indy had a firm grip on his arm.

“You need your shot.”  Indy tugged on him, lowering his voice.  “Don’t be an idiot.  You’re hungry.  We’ll get you a steak after we clean up.”

He glanced at the door.  It’d only take a moment to tear Cal in two, but he did need this job and he was hungry.  “Town first.  Food.  Drink.  Female.”  His thoughts were simple; his desires simple.

“Okay.”  Indy grinned as he pulled him out of the tent.  “I know just the place for all of those things plus a bath.  Come on.  I found a shortcut.  We can be in town within a few hours if we hustle.”

CHAPTER 38:  JETHRO

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JETHRO FOLLOWED INDY THROUGH the forest.  He sniffed, searching for something nearby to fight, to kill but everything seemed to have sensed his mood and had disappeared.  He picked up the pace.  If he couldn’t fight, he’d run.  Indy grinned at him as he lengthened his stride.

They ran for hours.  The night was crisp and clear, no clouds to cover the blanket of stars.  His blood raced through him as his feet ate up the ground.  Sweat soaked his shirt, but he kept going, reveling in his body’s strength.  They stopped on the outskirts of the city.

“We’re almost there,” panted Indy.  “Food, drink and females.”

As they headed into the city, his senses hummed with anticipation.  He’d never been to this section of town.  It was rundown, dirty and strays lingered in the shadows.  Perhaps, he’d get his fight after all.  His eyes locked on a Guard who hovered near a dumpster.  “I thought they shut this place down when they rounded up all the strays?”  He wasn’t worried.  He’d kill anything that looked at him the wrong way.

“They did.  This isn’t the Guards’ section of the city.”  There was a hint of sadness in Indy’s tone.

“Then where are we because those”—he nodded to the shadows—“are Guards and they smell like strays?”

“I didn’t realize we smelled differently when we’re owned.”

There was definitely hurt in Indy’s voice, but he wouldn’t apologize for speaking the truth.  “Well, you do.”  He sniffed.  “These Guards are unwashed, hungry”—he sniffed again—“and dangerous.  I can’t believe they’re left to roam alone in areas where Almightys frequent.”

“You really have no idea how the world works, do you?”

“I’m not a child.”  He didn’t know where they were or what Indy was talking about but he refused to admit his ignorance.

“You might as well be.  You were sheltered your entire life.  This section of the city is visited by many Almightys and they choose to keep it dark and dangerous.”

“Why would they do that?”

“To keep people like you away.”

“What do you mean, people like me?”

“The sheltered.  The judgmental.”  Indy pointed to a large building.  It looked vacant.  “That, my friend, is a brothel for those with very discriminating tastes.”

He stopped, sniffing.  There was the faint odor of sex and fear.

“My tastes don’t run that way and I hope yours don’t either.”  Indy tugged on his arm.

As they moved down the street, he glanced back at the building.  He couldn’t shake the thought that he should go in there and free those who feared and kill those who caused them to fear.  “Are there other brothels here?”

“Any kind you can imagine.  No taste is too bizarre or too deviant.”

He studied an Almighty who left one of the buildings.  He was a tall, middle-aged man.  Expensive clothes.  Normal looking.

“Don’t stare.”  Indy nudged him.  “That’s one of the few rules around here.  Don’t make eye contact and try not to look at anyone, except the females and males that are for sale. You can stare at them all you want.”

They stopped at what appeared to be a modest home.  The smell of perfumed females and desire trickled from the windows.  His pulse picked up pace.

“What are the other rules?  I don’t want to break any.”  He’d probably kill someone if they tried to stop him from mating.  He no longer wanted food or a fight.  All he wanted, all he needed was to mate.

“Don’t hurt the females.  Make sure they’re okay with what you want to do.  Most of them will do about anything but it may cost more.”

Jethro paled, his desire screaming with frustration.  “I don’t have my wallet.”  He never took it on a hunt.

“This is my treat,” said Indy.

“I’ll pay you back.”  He should refuse but he couldn’t.  He needed this more than air.

“Thanks but I owe you more than I could ever repay.  You saved me, us.  Again.”

“Anytime.”  He glanced at the Guard and grinned.  “But I might want some extras since you’re paying.”

“Okay, but don’t make me a pauper tonight.”  Indy slapped him on the back, directing him into the building.

A short, buxom Guard walked up to them.  “Indy, a pleasure to see you.”  Her voice was husky and arousing.  She looked them both up and down, her nose twitching at the scent of blood.  “Bath.”  She clapped her hands and four female Guards sauntered over to them.

They were all young and attractive, hair color and body shape varied.  Two females walked over to Indy and two to him.  They linked their arms in his, trying to hide the disgust on their faces.  He hoped it was due to the blood and guts covering him and not because he was an Almighty.

The female who first greeted them said, “What will it be tonight boys?  Just a bath or something more?”  Her brown eyes twinkled at her joke.

“Whatever my friend wants, Lola, but feed him first.”  Indy pulled out his wallet and handed her a wad of bills.

“While he bathes,” said Lola.

“Yeah, I suppose that has to come before anything else.”  Indy grinned.

The two Guards led Jethro toward a closed door, but he stopped.  A female across the room caught his attention.  She was tall and slender with long brown hair.  “Her.  I want her.”

“You sure have a type,” said Indy.  “I prefer variety.”  His hand caressed the two Guards at his side—one short and curvy with dark brown hair and the other willowy with light brown hair.

The madam waved the tall, slender girl over.  The other two moved away and the new girl escorted him into the room, closing the door behind them.  He inhaled.  She smelled nice, but not right.  Her eyes were a light brown, but not quite light enough.  She began undressing him.  Her hands were soft and cool against his skin, but she was a Guard so there’d be no claws.

“You have a great body.”  Her fingernails skimmed down his chest.  “Strong and hard.”

“Exercise a lot.”  He could live without claws.

She removed the last of his clothes and led him to a tub already filled with water.  Suddenly, he needed the water more than he needed to mate.

He stepped into the tub and stumbled away from the water.  “Hot.”

“I’ll add some cold.”  She turned on the faucet.

“All cold.”  He didn’t want to cook in hot water.  He needed cold water.

“No hot at all?”  She gave him a puzzled look.

He shook his head, unable to pull his eyes away from the tub.  His nerves were on edge.  He needed the cold water and he needed it now.

She removed the plug and the water swirled down the drain, but it was too slow.

“Faster.”  A tremor wracked his body.

“Come.”  She took his hand and led him to a chair, pushing him down.

She strolled to the side of the room, her hips swaying but he wanted the water not her.  She came back carrying a tray of food.  His mouth watered, but his eyes kept glancing at the tub.  His fingers fumbled around the plate, pulling the meat from the sandwiches and cramming it into his mouth.  Her lips wrinkled in disgust or shock.  He wasn’t sure which and didn’t care.

“Tub.”  If she didn’t like how he ate, she could make herself useful in other ways.

She nodded and walked over to the bathtub.  “It’s empty.”  She bent and replaced the plug.

His eyes dropped to her bottom.  She straightened as she turned on the faucet.  His appetite for food satisfied, he felt better, more like himself.  He continued to eat, but slower, as he watched her draw the bath.  “Do you see many Almightys here?”

She shrugged, looking at him coyly over her shoulder.  “Some, but this house caters mostly to Guards.  I worked at another one a few streets over that had a lot of Almightys.”  She walked over to him and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry.  I know what your kind likes.”

She took his hand.  He crammed more meat into his mouth and let her lead him to the tub.  He watched her walk, hips swaying under her silk robe.  He glanced at the bath.  He needed both her and the water.  He stepped into the tub and sat, the cool water sinking into his bones.  She tried to move away, but he pulled her slowly to him.

“Join me.”  His voice was harsh with desire.

She smiled and gave a slight tug on her hand.  He let her go.  She untied her robe and shrugged.  The garment slipped off her shoulders, pooling at her feet.  The door burst open and he stood, blocking the female with his body.

“Leave us.”  Lola stood in the doorway.

The girl grabbed her robe, darting from behind his back and out the door.  His eyes watched her retreating form.  He’d needed her.  He’d wanted her.  He would have her.

Lola kicked his clothes toward him.  “Get dressed.  Your father is here for you.”

“My father is dead.”  He pulled on his pants.  If there was going to be an issue he’d rather be dressed.

“Then your uncle,” she said.

“I don’t—”

“I don’t care.  An Almighty is here threatening to have my business closed if we so much as touched you.”  She looked him up and down.  “Funny.  You seem capable of taking care of yourself.  I wouldn’t think you needed to hide behind your papa.”

He picked up his shirt.  “Did he give a name?”  He already knew the answer.  Cal had tracked him down.  The captain was a dead man.

“I did not,” said Conguise.

The shirt slipped from his fingers and heat flooded his face.  “Professor.  How did—”

“Put on your shirt and let’s go.”  Conguise turned and walked away.

He pulled on his shoes and shirt and followed the professor down the hall and into the carriage.  As they pulled away from the brothel, he stared out the window, shame warring with his desires.  The professor wouldn’t understand.  He didn’t understand.  “How did you know where I was?”

“All Guards in the Protective Services have tracking devices.  As soon as Captain Folgrant realized you’d left, he sent an Avion to let me know to expect you.  When you didn’t arrive, I searched the tracking database for the Guard who’d accompanied you.  I cannot describe how...disappointed I was when I realized exactly where you were.  You couldn’t find an Almighty whore?”  His words dripped with disdain.

He turned, not flinching at the anger in the professor’s face.  He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.  He stank of blood and death and his temper still simmered, satiated by food but twitching for water and sex.  He’d needed the bath, the female and a night’s rest.  “I don’t know where an Almighty whore house is.  If you do, please tell me so that I won’t disappoint you next time.”

“I do not.”  The words were sharp like daggers.

“Then I guess Guards will have to do.”  Had the man never been young?

“It is illegal.”

“Arrest me.”  Interclass mating wasn’t enforced.  It hadn’t been in years.

“You’re better than this.”

“Obviously not.”  He stared back out the window.  Part of him wanted to explain that he didn’t understand this attraction to Servants and Guards, but another part wanted to jump from the carriage and return to his bath.

“Your father would be disappointed.”

He inhaled sharply.  He’d spent weeks trying not to think about that.  His father had believed that relations with the other classes were worse than disgusting.

“I thought you had more self-respect but you are nothing more than a randy boy.  I believed you were a man.  A man with honor.  Purpose.”

“Don’t question my honor.  My purpose.  I fought and killed for you and your army.”  His father would’ve given him a chance to explain.  Would’ve at least tried to understand why he’d needed a brothel tonight.

“It takes more than physical strength to be a man.”

The urge to wrap his hands around the professor’s neck and squeeze until no more words of disgust and self-righteousness came out of that sneering mouth, was almost overpowering.  He took a deep breath and braced himself against the seat.  “So says the man without physical abilities.”

“Child,” snapped the professor, turning toward the window.

Silence descended on the carriage which was a blessing but the confinement was making his skin prickle like someone was sticking him with tiny needles.  He was trapped.  He needed air.  Freedom.  He opened the window and rested his head against the side of the carriage, shutting his eyes.  They’d better arrive at the professor’s house soon or he’d jump and take his chances.

Eventually, the carriage stopped and the professor strode toward his house.  He hopped out and hesitated, glancing at the nearby brush.  He should flee.  He wasn’t sure he could withstand the coming lecture, not tonight.

The professor opened the door.  “Go upstairs.  You need to clean up.  You stink.”

“You interrupted my bath.”  He stared into the forest.  The dark night was calling.

“The Supreme Almighty wants to see you.”

“Later.”  He could barely tolerate Conguise right now.  There was no way he could sit through a meeting with Jason.  His eyes met Conguise’s.  “I can’t.  I need to blow off steam.”  Find a fight or a woman.  It didn’t matter which one.

The professor studied him, his expression changing from anger to concern.  He walked back to the carriage, stretching out his hand.  Jethro twisted away from his touch.

“Let me feel your forehead.”  Conguise voice was calm, soothing.

He forced himself to hold still as the professor came closer and touched his forehead and face.  Conguise’s hands were cool on his skin.

“You’re burning up.”

“I run hot sometimes.”  But the professor was right.  He wanted to yank his clothes off.  They rubbed and chafed.  He wanted to run or better yet, swim.  Be free.

“Please, come inside.”  The professor took his arm.

“I...I can’t listen to your lecture.  Not now.”  He couldn’t.  He’d hurt the older man and he didn’t want to do that.

“No lecture.  I promise.”  Conguise’s eyes twinkled.  “At least not tonight.”

He let the professor lead him inside to the study.  Conguise guided him to a chair and then crossed the room, opening his cabinet and pulling out a syringe.

“I don’t want the shot.”  He stood, backing away.  “It’s not time yet.”  The shot made him sleepy.  He didn’t want to sleep.  He wanted to mate and fight and eat and run and swim, anything but sleep and wake up weak and dull.

“I should have anticipated this.  Your behavior is my fault.  Not yours.”  The professor walked toward him.

“No.  Please.  I’m not due for a few more days.  I just need to fight or exercise.  Then I’ll be better.”  He stumbled backward until his back hit the wall.

“Calm down.”  The professor’s voice was soothing.  “Trust me.  I only want what’s best for you.”  He rolled up the sleeve on Jethro’s shirt.  “When did the fever start?”

He jerked his arm away.  “Can’t sleep.”  He’d become weak and sick.  “Not safe.”

“Nonsense.”  The professor loosely took ahold of his arm again.  “You’ll stay here tonight, like before.  You’ll be safe.”

“Promise?”  He let Conguise straighten out his arm, but he trembled, fighting his instincts as the syringe edged closer.

“I promise.  I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”  The professor plunged the needled into his arm.

The effect was immediate, as a wave of peace slipped through his body.  He no longer wanted to leave.  All he wanted was to sleep.  His eyes drooped.  The professor helped him to a bedroom and into bed, removing his clothes and covering him with a thick blanket.  The door closed.  He was alone.  It was dark, but he didn’t mind the dark.  Dark was for hunting and eating.  Dark was good.  His eyes drifted shut and then flew open.  He couldn’t sleep.  It wasn’t safe to sleep.  Not here.  He needed cover and even then it was only safe to doze—staying alert, half-awake—but his body screamed for sleep.  He struggled to sit up but the blankets weighed him down.  He was trapped, something was coming for him but he was too tired to move, too tired to fight.  His eyes closed and he slept the sleep of the dead.

CHAPTER 39:  JETHRO

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JETHRO WOKE SUDDENLY.  HE was in a bed but not home.  He was naked and alone.  He was at Conguise’s house.  It was dark.  There was a tray with food next to the bed.  His stomach roiled at the thought of eating.

He got up and walked to the window.  The moon was high in the sky.  A shiver ran through him from the cold and he rubbed his hands up and down his arms as he went into the bathroom.  He turned on the light, looking in the mirror.  His face and hands were covered in dry blood.  Flashes of the battle zipped through his head, sparks of sounds, smells, visions and rage spinning him backward in time.  He stumbled to the toilet and sat, dropping his head into his hands until the dizziness passed.  He took a deep breath and stood.  He needed a shower.  A hot one.  He turned on the water and when steam poured out from the curtain he stepped inside, groaning as his body absorbed the warmth.  His skin turned red but he was still cold, chilled beyond the bone.  When the water started to cool, he got out and wrapped a towel around his waist.  He stumbled into the bedroom and dropped onto the bed, exhausted.  Eating would help but the odor of the food made him want to puke.  He rolled away from it, curling into a ball for warmth.

Yesterday’s battle and everything after it was hazy, more like snapshots than actual memories.  His face heated as his mind tripped over Conguise finding him with the female Guard.  That was going to be fun to explain, especially since he didn’t understand it himself, and yet there was only a twinge of guilt over his actions.  They hadn’t been hurting anyone.  Actually, interclass mating was safer than same-class relations.  No unwanted offspring could result.  Thank Araldo, because their world was messed up enough without adding mixed breeds to the picture.

He hadn’t agreed with how his father had treated the Guards, maybe this was another area that he’d disagree with his father and the professor.  It didn’t mean he didn’t love and respect them.  Plus, if it were so disgusting, why was there an entire section of the city created for that purpose?  He obviously wasn’t the only Almighty wanting to experiment.  Conguise would have to accept that they were going to disagree on this point.  His eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep.

When he awoke later the sun was setting.  There was a new tray of food by his bed.  His clothes had been washed and were neatly folded on a chair across the room.  He sat up and stretched.  He’d slept the day away, but he felt better.  Good actually.  He pulled the tray over and ate.  When he was done, he dressed and headed downstairs.  He needed to thank Conguise for taking care of him, let the professor lecture him about the whore house and go home.  It’d been weeks since he’d seen his mom and Kim.

The library door was closed.  There were voices coming from inside—both male.  He hated to bother the professor but it’d be rude and cowardly to sneak away.  On the bright side, the professor’s company might delay his lecture.  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” said the professor.

He opened the door and stepped inside.  He should’ve left a note.  The professor’s visitor was Jason.  His lecture wouldn’t be delayed.  “Sorry to bother you.  I wanted to thank you for...for everything and then I was going to go home.”

“Sit,” said Jason, who stood near the window behind the desk.

This was a command from the Supreme Almighty.  The jovial, drunk Jason was not around at the moment.  He crossed the room and sat on a chair near the desk.

“Are you feeling better?”  Conguise opened a desk drawer.

“Yes, much.  I guess I needed the rest.”

Conguise pulled a syringe from the drawer and moved from behind his desk.  He felt Jethro’s forehead.  “The fever is gone.  I need to get a sample of your blood.”

He rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm, glancing at Jason who watched them closely.  The professor drew some blood and went to sit at his desk, placing the needle back in the drawer.

“As I was saying,” he continued.  “I really need to go home.  I haven’t seen my mom in weeks and I’m sure she’s worried about—”

“She should be.”  The Supreme Almighty strolled closer.  “The mission didn’t go well from what I heard.”  There was steel in his voice.

It appeared that Cal had already reported the incident at the Stockers’ Village.  He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done, but he was sure Cal had told a different story.  “It did not.”  He raised his head, looking Jason straight in the eyes.  “It could’ve gone much better had someone other than Cal been in charge.”

Jason’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment and then narrowed as he pointed at Jethro.  “You’re now a soldier, but, once again, you disobeyed a direct order.  I could have you executed for that.”

“I did not.”  He was smarter than Cal.  He was smarter than Jason.  Neither of them realized it, but they would soon.

“Do you think we didn’t interview Cal and the Guards?”  Jason shot Conguise a disbelieving look.

“I hadn’t given it much thought, but if you did interview the Guards who were there and not Cal’s chosen few then you know—”

“That you saved their lives?  Yes.  Do you think I care about that?”  Jason strode closer until he was towering over Jethro’s chair.  “They are expendable.  Why can’t you get that through your head?”

He struggled with the urge to stand up and shove the Supreme Almighty.  He was lucky they hadn’t had this conversation last night.  He wouldn’t have been able to remain calm, but calm and cunning was what this situation called for not brute force.  “What I was going to say is that if you spoke with the Guards you know that I did not disobey a direct order.  How could I?”  He tried but he couldn’t quite keep from smirking.  “I was in charge.”

“What?”  Jason glanced at Conguise who shrugged, studying Jethro with an amused gleam in his eyes.

“Talk to the Guards again.  Before Cal fled like a coward he put me in charge.”  He smiled.  It wasn’t friendly.  “He couldn’t leave a bunch of Guards alone without an Almighty to command them, could he?”

“No.  Well, I mean...”  Jason stormed back to the window.

“The captain left you there to die?”  Conguise’s voice was low and deadly, whisper smooth like a snake in the grass.

“We can discuss that later, Peter.”  Jason turned away from the window.  “My first concern is the battle.  Even if you were in charge, you still made a mistake.”

“How?  By not dying as Cal intended?  The way I see it, I saved you the cost of replacing dozens of Guards.”

“Saved us?”  Jason’s face flushed bright red.  “You cost us respect.  We are Almightys.  We cannot allow a village of Stockers to defeat us.”

“Then send in more troops and—”

“Now, he’s a general,” Jason said to Conguise, but his eyes never left Jethro.  “Do you think we haven’t done that already?  Do you think the world stops while you sleep for days like a pampered princess?  Do you think we are so dependent on your abilities that we wait, holding our breath until you’re awake so we can carry on with our missions?”

“Days?”  His eyes flew to the professor.

“You slept for two days, Jethro,” said Conguise.

“How is that possible?”  He ran his hand over his face.  It’d seemed like only hours.

“You were sick.  I’ve explained that to Jason.  It’s our fault.  We should’ve monitored you closer.”  His eyes met Jason’s for a quick moment.  “When you’re in the field, there’s more stimulation, more stress.  You’ll need more medication to counter that.  Since we can’t wait and see when you’ll require it by tracking your moods and blood,”—he opened a drawer and pulled out a brown paper package—“I’ve increased the dosage.”  He pushed it across the desk.  “You’ll need to take this on the fifteenth of every month.  No exceptions.”

Jethro opened the bag.  There were six syringes in it.  “I’m going somewhere for six months.”  He didn’t want to go back into the field.  He didn’t want to fight or kill anything any longer.

“Not necessarily,” said the professor.  “I still want you to come by my house monthly, but I understand that you may not be able to make it into town every month on the fifteenth.  You’re to take that shot regardless of where you are or what you’re doing.  Then, when you can get away, come and see me.  We can’t take the chance of anything happening like it did the other day.”

He looked from one to the other.  “Did something happen that I don’t remember?”  He’d fought valiantly, saved the lives of dozens of Guards and then ended up at a whore house.  Nothing horrible.

“Disobeying an order.”  Conguise held up his hand, stopping his argument.  “You can sugarcoat it all you like, but you know as well as we do that Cal wanted the Guards to stay at the Stocker Village and fight.  Technically, you may have been in charge and therefore not insubordinate, but you knew what your captain’s orders had been.  And let’s not forget where you ended up.  You left camp on the flimsy excuse of needing your shot, but instead of coming to see me, you went to a whorehouse.  A Guards’ whorehouse.  I believe these actions were sufficiently disappointing that you shouldn’t want to repeat them.”

He pushed the tickle of guilt aside.  He’d done nothing wrong.  He’d done his job and had sought relief.  He and the female Guard would’ve hurt no one.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” asked Jason, his tone less angry than before.

“Not entirely, sir, no.”

“How will we remain in control if we allow anyone to form their own community, disavowing our authority there?” asked Jason.

“I never believed the Stockers should be left with their misconception.”  Honestly, he hadn’t given it much thought, but the fact that they stated the Supreme Almighty had no authority over them, did mean they had to be dealt with at some point.  “However, I also didn’t believe that a troop of soldiers in the Protective Services being killed by the Stockers would’ve enforced our rule.  I made the right choice.  If we’d stayed, we would’ve died and the Stockers would’ve been victorious.  Word would’ve gotten out and fueled the rebellion.”

“And you don’t think your retreat will have the same effect?” asked Conguise.

“If we were to retreat and never go back, then yes, but if we were to retreat, gather more Guards and return in force, then no.  That shows intelligence.”  At the time he hadn’t considered going back but they would’ve had to eventually.  They couldn’t let it be known that the army of the Supreme Almighty ran from Stockers.  “Didn’t you say you sent more troops to the Stockers’ Village?  I’m sure our retreat has been forgotten with their surrender and the Stockers no longer believe they are under their own rule.”

Jason snorted.  “They no longer believe anything.”

“I don’t understand.”  He glanced at Conguise but the professor’s face was inscrutable.

“We returned in force and killed everyone who was there.”  Jason’s eyes were hard.  “That is how we handle insurrection and you’d do well to remember it.”

“Yes, sir.”  He wasn’t a fan of the Stockers but killing them all, females and young, was stupid.  It’d put fear in the hearts of the other classes but it’d also sway more to the side of the rebellion, both the lower classes and Almightys.  However, he was in enough trouble and the deed was done.  No good would come from arguing about it.  If only Cal had listened to him, none of this would’ve happened.  He’d known it’d been a trap.  He’d felt it in his bones.  “I see your point about following orders.”  He didn’t and wouldn’t if the orders were stupid.  “And the Stockers have been taught their lesson, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my family before heading back to camp.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for keeping you.”  Jason’s face was so red Jethro feared the Supreme Almighty might drop dead from a heart attack.  Jason moved closer until their faces were only inches away.  “The problem is that the Stockers left.  Most of them packed up their things and moved on.  The only ones still in the village were the elderly and those too injured or sick to travel.”

“And you killed them.”  Cold washed through him again.  No wonder the other classes were uprising.

“Strung them up as an example to the others.”  Jason moved back a little, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

He tried but his mouth would not stay shut.  “What did you prove by killing the old and the sick except that Almightys have no mercy for the innocent?”

Jason’s jaw dropped open in disbelief, his eyes flying to Conguise.

“Jason, calm down.”  The professor shot Jethro a look that said to shut up.

“No, Peter, that’s it.  He may be your...protégé but I’m not going to put up with this any longer.”  Jason turned toward Jethro.  “You’re done.  You and your family.  The Producer Camps are mine.  I’m tired of playing this game.”

It was as if a weight had been lifted from him.  He’d been sure that eventually they’d assign him to run the camps and even if they didn’t his mother was going broke trying to care for the growing number of Producers.  This was better for everyone but the Producers and it was the fate of their kind.  The bargain their ancestors had made for their protection.

“I can see that you don’t care.  You never wanted to run the camps anyway, but once again you aren’t seeing the entire picture.  You think you and your family will be fine.  You’ll work odd jobs.  You’ll make it, but what about your children and your children’s children.”  Jason moved closer.  “You are sealing the fate of Remores for generations to come.  No one will let them succeed.  No one will give them a chance at any profession.”  He sneered.  “I mean, why would they?  You failed at running Producer Camps.  Lost the business your family has held for centuries.  Add to that humiliation the fact that you had to live with the Guards and your sister...Well, we all know what she does with Guards.”

“Leave my sister out of this.”  He stood, the rage from the other night beginning to simmer in his veins.

“Oh, but we can’t.  If she doesn’t marry soon, you may get to visit her in that section of the city you went to last night.  The other classes are just as curious about Almighty women as young, Almighty men are about female Servants and Guards.”

He was either going to beat Jason to a pulp or leave.  Prison didn’t appeal to him so he turned and headed for the door.

“You’ll need to be out of your house within a week,” said Jason.

He grinned as he turned around, praying his mother was right.  “I spoke with my mom about that.  It seems you’re”—he glanced at the professor—“both mistaken.  She’s only a little behind in her payments.  She talked to the people at the bank and they added a late fee, nothing more.”  He took a step closer.  “I find it hard to believe you were so misinformed.”

Jason laughed and Jethro’s instincts screamed for him to seek cover.  Here was the blow he hadn’t seen coming, the one that would end his life or his hope for one.

“Your mother has deceived you, not us.”  Jason’s eyes lit up in triumph.  “She may be only a little late, but she is late every month.  It’ll only take a whisper from me and the loan is foreclosed.”

“How much does she owe?”  His stomach hit the floor.

“More than your home is worth,” said Jason.  “You’ll be living on the street soon—you, your mother and sister.  All because you couldn’t obey orders and let a few Guards die.”

Conguise stood and walked over to Jethro, taking his arm and escorting him from the room.  “Wait here.  I’ll talk to Jason and see what can be done.”

He nodded and dropped onto a nearby chair.  What was he going to do?  How could he tell his mom that she’d have to leave her home?

Conguise went back inside the study.  Heated whispers drifted through the door.  He leaned closer, but his hearing was dulled and he couldn’t make out any of the words.  He rested his head against the wall and prayed.  All he needed was one more chance.  He’d do whatever they told him.  He’d run the camps.  He’d send Producers to the Warehouse District, anything as long as he didn’t have to tell his mom that they’d lost the house because of his temper.  And her mortgage.  The same creatures who should be putting cash in their pockets were bleeding them dry.  The door opened.

“Come inside,” said Conguise.  “And apologize.”

He nodded, his throat too tight to comment, and followed the professor into the study.

Jason was sitting in a chair across the room.  By his flushed face, he was still angry.

“I’m sorry for my outburst, sir,” he said.

“No you’re not.”  Jason’s eyes met his.  “You’re sorry your mother is an idiot, financially speaking.”

The Supreme Almighty could insult him all he wanted, but Jason needed to leave his mother and sister out of this.

Conguise grabbed his arm, giving it a quick squeeze.  “Jason has kindly agreed to give you one more chance”

“Thank you, sir.”  He’d be relived if it were that simple, but he knew Jason well enough by now to know this was a trap of some sort.  The problem was he had no option but to walk straight inside and be captured.

“Don’t thank me, thank Peter.  He’s the one who pointed out how, although you disobeyed orders, you did fight valiantly and well.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“So, since you seem to think you can run a team, I’ll give you that chance.”  Jason studied him closely.  “And when you fail, as I expect you will, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.  You’ll be the reason your family is ruined.  You and you alone.”

The words were supposed to frighten him, but they didn’t.  He could lead a team of Guards in his sleep better than Cal.  “What is my mission, sir, and when do I leave?”  He needed to plan.  Unlike Cal, he wouldn’t leave his hunting up to chance.

“The same as before.  Capture the escaped.  I’ll have a Guard collect you from your home in a couple of days.”  Jason’s eyes lost their hard edge.  “Everyone deserves some time with family.”

He nodded and then hesitated.  He was pushing his luck, but whether he succeeded in this endeavor or failed, he’d be in the same boat as he was now—the axe of the mortgage still hanging over his head.  “How much of a raise do I get?”

“Raise?”  Jason glanced at Conguise.  “You’ll receive the same salary as before.”

“Sir, I’m grateful for this opportunity, but I’ll have more responsibility.  It’s only logical that I should receive a larger salary.”  He’d barely make the mortgage payments on what he was currently making.  He glanced at both of the other men, trying to seem grateful but not stupid.  “I want to be able to pay off my mother’s debt.”

“An increase is only natural,” said Conguise.

“Yes, but with that mortgage...”  Jason shook his head.  “Even with an increase it’d take your lifetime to pay that loan in full.”

He swallowed.  He’d never be able to move out on his own.

“Perhaps a bounty would be in order.”  Jason looked at Conguise.  “What do you think, Peter?”

Conguise frowned but nodded.  “That could be the incentive that’s needed.”

Jason tapped his fingers against the chair.  “We’ll grant a monetary sum for the capture and arrest of every Producer, House Servant and Guard who escaped.”

“The reward could go to anyone not only soldiers.”  Conguise looked at Jethro.  “Let’s see how loyal Hugh’s friends are when there’s a large sum of money on his head.”

He hadn’t meant anything like that.  He’d only wanted a paycheck.

“What do you think about a thousand a head?” asked Jason.

“I’d say that’s a bit much for a Producer,” said Conguise.  “Maybe five hundred for a Producer and a thousand for a Guard or House Servant.”

“I agree that the amounts don’t need to be the same,” said Jason.  “But I disagree with your figures.  A Producer is worth something.  They’ll be sent to the Warehouse District and will produce a product.  The Guards and House Servants will be punished and eventually executed, producing nothing but a body to burn.”

“Switch it around then, but the real question is, what will we offer for an Almighty?” Conguise moved to the chair behind his desk.

“That’s a good question.”  Jason tapped his fingers against his chair again.  “We’d need to offer more, of course, but some businessman who is supplying information to the rebels is not worth as much as Hugh.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Conguise.

“If Hugh is captured the war will end—”

“Maybe not.  There’s a lot of talk about that female, the one who claims to be part House Servant and part Producer.”  Conguise’s gaze landed on Jethro in challenge.  “Trinity is her name, correct?”

He nodded.  Conguise hated Trinity.  As far as the professor knew Trinity and Hugh were the ones responsible for Viola pretending to be a Producer and her subsequent death.

“I think a half ounce of thermite dust for Hugh and a quarter ounce for Trinity should end our little war pretty quickly,” said Jason.

Jethro’s breath caught in his throat.  Thermite dust was worth more than gold.  He cleared his throat.  “What about a Tracker or Handler?”  It wasn’t right that Conguise and Jason would have their revenge but his father’s death would go unpunished.  Plus, if he could get them to offer enough for Mirra he could capture the Tracker, pay off his mom’s debt and then warn Trinity.  Hugh was on his own.

“Good point.  I was never satisfied with the outcome of our Tracker hunt.  That left a black mark on my reign as Supreme Almighty,” said Jason.  “A quarter ounce for each of them also.”

“They’re more dangerous than the others.”  At that price he’d still have to capture both to pay off his mother’s loan and have a little left over.

“I’m not pricing them the same as Truent, no matter how much you hate them,” said Jason.

“Jethro is right, though,” said Conguise.  “The eradication of the last Trackers and Handlers would be a major coup for your office.”

“Okay, a half ounce of thermite for a Tracker or Handler,” said Jason.

“Then we should offer two ounces for Hugh and an ounce for Trinity.  We have to make them our top priority,” said Conguise.

“We don’t have an unlimited supply.  Are you offering to chip in with some thermite from your collection?” asked Jason.

“It isn’t coming out of your pocket,” said Conguise.  “Anyone who earns the thermite will sell it back for cash.”

“I’ll still be the one who’ll have to raise taxes to buy back the powder,” said Jason.  “And the people don’t like higher taxes.”

“They’ll be so happy that they’re safe from Trackers, Handlers and stray Guards and Servants that they won’t grumble too much,” said Conguise.

“There is a lot of concern about traitorous Servants and Guards since the Petersen spies were uncovered,” muttered Jason.

“Add to that, the reduction in meat prices and you’ll be the most loved Supreme Almighty in history,” said Conguise.

“Agreed.”  Jason’s eyes gleamed with the thought.  “Two ounces of thermite dust for Hugh and one for Trinity.  Now, let’s finish this war.”

“With respect, sirs, I’d like to be given time to set a trap for the bigger game.”  All he had to do was capture one Tracker and the mortgage would be paid.

Jason and Conguise looked at each other and they seemed to come to an unspoken agreement.

“You have a month,” said Jason.  “After that, you’ll go into the field.”

He didn’t need a month but he wasn’t going to argue.  “May I pick my team of Guards?”  He needed ones he could trust.

“You may pick most of them.  I’ll assign some,” said Jason.

The Supreme Almighty didn’t trust him, but that was okay.  Any Guard picked by Jason would be susceptible to a kind word and fair treatment.  The Guard should be loyal to him in no time.  “Thank you, sir.  I won’t disappoint you again.”  He turned and left.  Mirra would die for killing his father and all he had to do in order to capture her was to trap Trinity.

CHAPTER 40:  JETHRO

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JETHRO SAT AT MIKE’S pub nursing a beer.  It’d taken a few weeks but everything was in place.  It was time to bait the trap.  Indy wandered into the bar and sat across from him.

“Don’t you have better things to do on the first sunny day in over a week?”  He was playing the part of surly drunk.  It wasn’t hard.  It’d done nothing but rain for days which had left him cooped up indoors.  He was restless, but he didn’t want company at least not of the male variety.  His eyes met those of a waitress he’d been flirting with since yesterday.  A few more days and she’d be ready to mate with him, but unfortunately, he’d run out of time.  He couldn’t delay the hunt any longer.

“Nope.”  Indy waved at the waitress.  “Bring me what he’s having.”  He turned back toward Jethro.  “I was with the others but they weren’t in the mood to drink this early.”  He grinned.  “I figured I’d find you haunting one pub or another.”

“I haven’t been drinking that much.”

Indy rolled his eyes.

“Okay.  Maybe, I have.”  Again, this was part of their plan, but it wasn’t all an act.  He had to go somewhere because he hated being home.  If he wasn’t arguing with his mom or sister there was nothing but tense silence.  Once they’d discovered he was heading his own team, they hadn’t been happy and they’d made it known in every way possible.  Silence, glares, lectures and his mom had even refused to wash his clothes.

“Is it true?” asked Indy as he paid the waitress for his drink.

She walked to a nearby table and started wiping it down.  This was perfect.  She was a known gossip.

He leaned closer to Indy, speaking softly.  “Yeah, but it hasn’t been announced yet.”

“Does your mom know?”

He took a sip of his beer.  The waitress had slowed down her cleaning and her head was tipped toward them.  “Not yet.  She won’t be happy, but it’s for the best.”

“How is having your family business taken from you a good thing?”

“Keep your voice down.”  He glanced at the waitress.  She smiled innocently and moved to the next table.  She was still within hearing distance.  She was a Guard after all.  “We can’t afford to care for all those Producers.  Having someone else take over the camps is a blessing.”

“The price of meat should go down.”  Indy leaned back, tipping his chair on two legs.  “Whoever gets the camps won’t have your mom’s beliefs.”

“No kidding.  The first thing the new owner will do is clear out a bunch of those Producers.  He has to.  The Supreme Almighty wants functioning camps.  I warned Mom this would happen, but she didn’t believe me.”

A hand slammed down on the table—a female, Almighty hand.

“What have you heard?”  Kim was furious.

His eyes met Indy’s and the Guard shrugged.  This hadn’t been part of their plan.  He’d wanted the rumors to spread naturally, not to get into a fight with his sister.  If she or Mom questioned the authorities, they’d learn that the camps still belonged to them, at least for now.  “We can talk about this later.  At home.”

“No.  We’re going to talk about it now.”  Kim’s arms were crossed over her chest and there was a militant look in her eye.

“Isn’t that?”  Indy dropped his chair back down and waved his hand in a general direction away from their table.  “It is.  I have to talk to him...her.  I haven’t seen—”

“Coward,” he said under his breath.

Indy smirked as he jumped from his seat and hurried across the room.

He’d love to follow his friend but Kim would never let him escape that easily.  There was no getting around her when she had her mind set on something.  He actually felt bad for Jackson.  The Guard hadn’t stood a chance against his sister.  “Kim, this isn’t something we need to discuss in public.”

“Then let’s go home.”  Kim grabbed his shirtsleeve and tugged.

“I’m not done yet.”  He held up his almost full mug of beer.  He wasn’t going to let her order him around like a child.

She yanked his glass from his hand, downed the beer in a couple of gulps and slammed the empty mug on the table.  “Now, you are.”

They had the attention of everyone in the bar.  Some were trying to hide their curiosity but many were blatantly staring.  He could use this to his advantage.  Their fight and her anger would add truth to the tale.  As long as he could keep her and Mom from confronting Jason, this was perfect.  Better than perfect.  He was sure she was in contact with Trinity.  That one time in the basement couldn’t have been a fluke.  He stood, taking her arm and leading her to the door.

“Sorry Davies, but your date is over.”  He dragged Kim past Dave Davies who stood at the bar watching them.

Davies threw money to the bartender and followed them outside, grabbing Jethro’s shoulder.  “Let her go.”

“This doesn’t concern you.”  He shrugged out of the other Almighty’s grasp like Davies was an insect.

“If it concerns Kim, it concerns me.” Davies stepped in front of him.

His temperature rose, churning his blood.  He could use a good fight.  Davies was in shape and looked like he worked out but it still wouldn’t be a challenge.  He took out a passel of Stockers—one Almighty wouldn’t even make him sweat.  However, there were no Stockers around and he wouldn’t hit his sister, so Davies would have to do.  He dropped his hold on Kim.  “I’d suggest telling your boyfriend to back off before I beat the crap out of him.”

“I’d like to see you try.”  Davies stepped closer.

“Stop it.”  Kim pushed between them.  “You’re causing a scene.”

“Like you weren’t.”  His sister was unbelievable and this was working out better than his plan.  Most of the bars patrons were either at the window or standing outside watching.  It wasn’t every day they got to witness a fight between Almightys.

Kim pulled Davies to the side, whispering to him as he continued to glare at Jethro.

“You better listen to my sister.  You wouldn’t want to handle this like a man.”  He wanted a fight.  It hadn’t been in his initial plan but he wanted one now.  He was going to make Dave Davies bleed.

“Jethro, shut up.”  Kim had both hands on Davies’ chest, holding him back.

Indy made his way through the crowd of patrons and over to his side.  “If you fight that Almighty, that’s all anyone will talk about.”

“Shit.”  He tried to rein in his temper.  Indy was right.  A fight was a lot more interesting than the Remore family losing their business.

“Let’s pretend I’m talking some sense into you.”  Indy grabbed his arm and pulled him a few feet away.  “Not that it’s possible.  Araldo knows I’ve tried before.”

“Like you have any sense to pass along.”

“The Almighty’s furious but he’s going to his carriage,” said Indy who was facing Kim.  “Uh-oh, here she comes and she’s more than pissed.”  He patted Jethro on the shoulder.  “Gotta run.  Good luck.”

“Coward,” he muttered again.

Indy shot him a cocky grin as he merged into the crowd.

“You’re an ass.”  Kim stopped in front of him, arms crossed.  “Who told you we’re losing the camps?”

“Shut up,” he said in a harsh whisper, glancing at the customers who were still watching them.  “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been talking about it while you were drunk in a bar.  You weren’t as quiet as you thought.”

“You’re right.”  He grabbed her arm and started for their house.  “I’ll tell you everything when we get home.”  He wanted to kiss her.  Word would spread like wildfire.  He needed to ditch his sister and go to the Producer camp.  That’d give her a chance to warn Trinity and once she did that, Trinity and her friends would move quickly.

The walk home was quiet and fast, but as soon as they stepped into the house, the silence was over.

“Who’s taking our camps?” Kim’s temper hadn’t improved by the delay.

“How am I supposed to know who they’re going to give them to?”  The best defense was offense with his sister.  “All I know is we’re losing them and I need to get back to work before I lose that job too.”  He headed upstairs to get his things.  He’d been packed for over a week.

“You can’t leave now.”  Kim followed him.  “We need you to talk to the Supreme Almighty and the Council.  Convince them not to take the camps.”

“I’ve tried.  They’ve made their decision.  I told you and Mom this would happen.”  He couldn’t stop from adding the last dig.  He’d argued with them for years about sending the Producers to the Warehouse District.

“Well, they’ll have to unmake it.”

“Let it go.”  He pulled on a clean shirt.

“They’re doing this to us and you’re still fighting for them.”  She dropped on his bed.  “How can you work for them?”

“I’m working for us, not them.”  He strapped his knife to his side.

“Nothing you’re doing is for us.”  She stood and grabbed his arm.  “I can’t understand how you don’t see that what they’re doing is wrong.  You grew up with Jackson.  You were friends with Trinity.  Do you want to eat her like we all did Viola?”

“She’s a House Servant.  No one will be eating her.”

“What about her mother, her friends?  Even if you’re right—and you’re not—about her being full-blooded House Servant, the female who raised her, the one she’s called mom her entire life is a Producer.”

“Producers have their place in society.  Guards have their place and we have ours.  That’s how it is.  How the world works.”

“But that doesn’t make it right.”

“I don’t have time to argue with you about this.”  He pulled from her grasp, flung his backpack over his shoulder and headed down the stairs.

“Don’t you dare leave until you tell me why you’re doing this?  Why you’re betraying us.”  She was right on his heels.

He spun around and they were face to face on the stairs.  “Betraying you?  I’m saving you.”

“By capturing and killing our friends?”

“I don’t need this shit.”  He headed down the stairs toward the door.  He wasn’t capturing their friends.  Trinity was bait.  He’d turn her loose as soon as he had Mirra.

“Jethro, where are you going?” asked Mom as she stepped into the house with a small bag of groceries.

“He’s going to kill more innocent Guards and House Servants for no reason other than they want to be free,” said Kim, trailing after him.

“I’m leaving.”  He kissed his mom on the cheek.  “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Don’t come back.” Kim’s words were soft and controlled but her hands trembled at her sides.

“Kim,” gasped Mom.  “You don’t mean that.”  She turned to Jethro.  “She didn’t mean it.”

“I do mean it.  I won’t live with a traitor and a sniveling kiss-ass.”

Her eyes were locked with his.  This was a challenge, a war of wills.  She’d given the ultimatum.  If he left, she’d never forgive him.  Their relationship would be over, but he had no choice.  They’d lose everything if he didn’t get the money for the house.

“Don’t listen to your sister.  This is my house and all my children are welcome here,” said Mom.

“Then I’ll move out.”  Kim continued to stare at him, her jaw jutting out stubbornly.  “I’d rather live on the street than under the same roof as him.”

The pain was almost like losing his father again, sharp and deep and twisting.  She was his sister, the one who’d always been there for him, and she was turning her back on him.  She was choosing Jackson, Trinity and Hugh over him.  “No, I’ll go.”  His lip curled in disgust as if she were something vile.  “If she leaves there’s no telling what sort of low-class creature she’ll hook up with.”

Kim slapped his face.  He saw it coming and could’ve moved or stopped her hand, but he didn’t.  This was the physical pain that sealed the end of their relationship.  He touched his lip.  There was a bit of blood.  She hadn’t held back.  He hadn’t expected her to.

“We’re done.  Don’t beg me to take you in when this house is gone.”  He walked out the door.

“Don’t you dare threaten our home!”  Kim stood in the doorway.

He turned around.  “I’m not the one threatening to take our home.”  He glanced at his mom.  “Why don’t you ask Mom about that?”  Mom’s face paled and it was another blow to his gut.  “Ask her where she got the money to take care of your precious Producers?”

“Jethro, I told you I had it under control.”  Mom’s eyes darted to Kim.  “We can discuss this later.”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Kim.

“There’s no reason to discuss it later.”  His voice softened.  “The Supreme Almighty has friends at the bank.  He can call in the loan anytime he wants.”

“Oh.”  Mom’s eyes were haunted.  “He wouldn’t.  Why would he do that?  We’re not hurting anyone.”

That was the problem.  No Producers were going to market.  He walked over to his mother and hugged her, whispering, “I’ll take care of everything.  I promise.”  He let her go and turned to Kim.  “I’ll be back to pick up the rest of my stuff after my mission is complete.  If my luck holds, the war will be over, I’ll have enough to pay off our debts and all your friends will be in prison.”

CHAPTER 41:  TRINITY

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TRINITY SAT ON A log, whittling and waiting.  Her dad came out of Hugh’s tent, walked over to a group of House Servants and led them toward the forest.  As soon as Hugh was alone they were going to talk.  She’d been wrong about him getting over his pique about her coming to the war camp.

The first few weeks, every time she’d tried to talk to him, he’d glared at her and walked away.  Now, he’d chat with her for a moment before making up a flimsy excuse and leaving.  On top of that, it wasn’t a coincidence that he met with the others to discuss strategy while she was training the recruits in the forest.  He didn’t even tell her about their victories.  She had to hear about them through the camp grapevine.

All of that annoyed her, but yesterday when she’d tried to lure him into the forest by mentioning that she was going, alone, to forage for food, he’d sent Curtis with her.  That’d hurt.  She was tired of this impasse between them.  She missed talking to him.  She even missed arguing with him.  She missed him.  She sighed.  She’d done it again.  She’d fallen for an Almighty who’d decided that he wanted nothing to do with her.  Well, he wasn’t living in the city or away at college.  She’d make him talk to her.  He obviously wasn’t attracted to her any longer, but there was no reason they couldn’t be friends.  She sighed again.  The thought of only being his friend made her want to cry or scream but the idea that he might even refuse her friendship made her queasy.  She’d felt closer to him than to anyone.  She bit her lip to keep from crying as she straightened her shoulders.  She’d survived worse than some stupid, male Almighty’s temper tantrum over not getting his way.  No matter what happened today, she was going to insist that he let her help with the war effort.

Gaar came over and sat by her.  “I’m leaving.”

“Great.  I’ll go with you.”  She’d talk to Hugh and then leave.  It’d give them both time to think.

“No.  It won’t be safe for you.  I’m going to meet Tatania and we’re going to talk to the other Handlers to try and get them to fight with the AC.  Some are close to agreeing, but they need a little more convincing.”

“Please.  I promise, I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Not this time.”  He pulled out his large knife, grabbed a nearby stick and began to whittle.

“Where’s Mirra?”  Maybe she could hang out with the Tracker for a few days.  As much as she wanted to talk to Hugh she was afraid she’d discover that for him there was nothing left between them and no matter what she told herself, she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Gone.  The serum makes her weak and tired.  She’s probably resting somewhere safe.”

They whittled in silence for several moments.  She’d miss him.  She always did when he left.  She was so alone here in the middle of everyone, especially without Hugh.  She had no idea how Gaar had handled years of solitude.  There were deep lines in his face.  He looked tired, older.  Ever since Mirra had found Nirankan, he’d been even more alone, but maybe not for long.  “Do you not want me with you because of Tatania?”  She stared at her stick.  She was happy for him, but it made her loneliness even more potent.

“What difference would that make?”  He stopped whittling.  “She seemed to like you well enough.”

“Yeah, but”—she turned toward him—“I thought you might want to be alone with her and if you do, I understand.”

“It’s not like that.”  His cheeks reddened a bit.

“You don’t find her attractive?”

“No.  I mean, yes, but it doesn’t matter.  She’s too young.”  His voice was gruffer than usual.  “She won’t be interested in an old Handler like me.”

“Are you sure?”  Her eyes drifted to Hugh as he stepped out of his tent with Jackson.  “Sometimes a younger female can be attracted to an older male.  They’re more settled, more...I don’t know...in control.”

“I thought that was the way your wind was blowing.”  He stared at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  She blushed and focused on whittling.

“Are you sure about him?  It was just a little while ago you were crying about Jethro.”

“I wasn’t crying.”  She had been, but he hadn’t seen it.

He stopped her hands, taking her stick.  “If you decide to go Hugh’s path, have a care.”

“What?  You think I’m not good enough for him...an Almighty?”  She’d thought Gaar, of all people, had seen her differently—not a tainted mix-blood but special, unique.

“I should make you do lessons.  You’ve obviously not learned a thing about yourself or me.”  He squeezed her hands.  His were big and warm, his callouses comforting in their roughness, promising safety and strength.

“Sorry.”  She wanted to put her head on his chest and cry.  Why couldn’t she like someone who liked her?

“You know no one is good enough for you.”  He lifted her chin.

She smiled.  It wasn’t true but she was glad he felt that way.

“But, Hugh Truent is a good man and I don’t think he could live through another blow to the heart.”  He tapped her chin and handed her back her stick.  “So have a care with him.”

“Me?  What about him?”  Her eyes landed on Hugh.

He must have felt her stare for he looked their way and gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.  She nodded back and then shifted so she couldn’t see him.

“Hugh has gone through more than anyone should ever have to.”

“So have I.”  The last few years hadn’t been easy on her either.  Her entire life hadn’t been easy.

“Yes, but everything worked out for you.  You were lucky.”

“In a way, I guess, but finding out you’re everything’s dinner isn’t easy.”

He shrugged.  He never seemed to understand the gravity of that, probably because he was no one’s dinner.

“Hugh lost everything—his belief in his kind, his place and trust in his society and the female he loved.”

Her temper flared.  “I lost Jethro but you don’t seem to think that’s a big deal.”

“It’s not.”  His black eyes met hers.

She stood.  She’d had enough.

“Stop acting like a child.”  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

She shot him a glare as she settled beside him.  He’d force her to stay if she tried to leave and that’d be embarrassing.

“You lost the dream of a man.  Sure, that’s hard but not as hard as losing someone you love.”

“Jethro wasn’t a dream.  He cared for me and I cared for him.”  She wouldn’t admit to loving him, not when he despised her.  She had some pride.

“You didn’t even know him.”  He pinched her lips together to keep her from arguing.  “You will hear me out.”  At her nod, he dropped his hand.  “You knew a boy for a fraction of a time in his life and built up a fantasy world around that memory.  Hugh lost the woman he loved.  Loved.  Do you understand that?  Viola wasn’t perfect but he loved her, not some ideal of her.”

“I didn’t think Jethro was perfect,” she said.  Gaar had no idea how she’d felt about Jethro, what he’d meant to her.

“Take your parents for example.”  He glanced at her dad who still talking to the Servants near the tree line.

That was the last thing she wanted to hear.  She scraped the knife across the stick too hard and the point broke.

“Do you think they wanted to love each other?  Neither of them is stupid.  They knew it’d be hard.”  He grabbed another stick.  “There are things that your father does which drive your mother crazy and vice versa, but they stay together.  You know why?  Because those things that annoy them about the other also makes them love the other.  Really love the other person, faults and all.”

“Yeah, my parents are perfect.”  She wanted to barf.

“That’s exactly the opposite of what I said.”  He cuffed her upside the head.  “Pay attention.”

“Ouch.”  She rubbed her ear.  “I was.”  She wanted to glare at him, but that’d get her another slap.  “They’re both flawed and yet they love each other, but like I said, I knew Jethro wasn’t perfect and he knew I wasn’t perfect so why is mine not love?  No, don’t say anything.  I’ll answer that for you...because you’re treating me like a child who doesn’t know her own feelings.  You’re acting just like my parents.”

“Maybe, we’re treating you like a child because you’re acting like one.  You barely knew the boy and yet”—his voice heightened to a falsetto—“oh, I’m so sad.  I love him but he doesn’t love me.”  His voice went back to normal.  “Well, boo-hoo.”

The only reason she didn’t walk away was because he’d stop her.  “I get it.  My feelings are nothing.  Are you done?”

“That’s not what I said either.”  His voice was soft now.  “But remember, if you decide you want to choose Hugh, be sure about it because if he decides to accept you as a mate, he’ll do so with his entire heart.”

She glanced at Hugh.  “It doesn’t matter how I feel.  He doesn’t like me like that.  He doesn’t even talk to me anymore.”  She dug her toe in the dirt, trying not to cry.  “Why do I always pick the wrong guys?”

He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.  “If you think he doesn’t like you in that way, you’re blind.  He’s going crazy staying away from you, but he can’t stop watching you when he thinks no one is paying attention.”

“Really?”  That was the best news she’d heard in weeks.

“Look for yourself.”  He let go of her chin.

Jackson was talking to Hugh, but Hugh was staring at her.  He averted his gaze when she looked at him.  She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

Gaar grabbed her head and turned her toward him again.  “Have a care with him.  I mean it.”

“You seem to like Hugh a lot better than before.”  It was her heart that she was worried about, not Hugh’s.

“Like I said, he’s been through a lot.  When someone goes through adversity like he did, it changes them.  Tests their mettle.  He changed for the better.”  He paused, looking at Hugh again.  “Sarah took in many strays and orphans but her greatest gift to the other classes was raising Hugh.  He’s in a position to do more good for the rest of us than five hundred Sarah’s could in a lifetime.”

CHAPTER 42:  TRINITY

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AFTER TRINITY SAID HER goodbyes to Gaar, she continued to whittle and think about what he’d said.  She’d noticed Hugh glancing at her a couple of times before he and Jackson went back into his tent and she was even more confused.  If Gaar were right and Hugh did still like her, why wasn’t he talking to her or including her in his strategy meetings?  If he was still mad at her for leaving base camp he needed to get over it.  The recruits were better trained by being here.  She’d even incorporated the last few days of rain into her training, teaching them how to hunt and hide in a torrential downpour.  It hadn’t been pleasant but it’d been effective.  That alone proved he needed to listen to her about how to best use the forest for protection.  Plus, if there were any hope for their relationship, he needed to accept her help and utilize her knowledge.  That’s what partners did.  They relied on each other’s strengths.

It was dusk when Jackson finally left Hugh’s tent.  She put the finished spears in her quiver and stifled a groan as Jackson headed toward her.  She was about to get another lecture.  She wasn’t sure about what, but she recognized the look on his face.

He stopped in front of her.  “We’re gathering a small group.”

It wasn’t a lecture.  They were finally going to include her.  She may even get to go on a mission.  “Great.  I have some free time.  Training has gone better than expected.  Everyone is ready to be assigned to teams and start fighting and Leena hasn’t sent us any new recruits.”  She hadn’t told Leena to do that, but she would later.  First, she’d go on a mission.  She almost purred with anticipation.  Training was boring.

“You’re going with them,” said Jackson.

“Perfect.”  She sheathed her knife and stood.  “When and where are we going?”

He stared over her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes.  “You’re to leave for base camp tomorrow and you’ll stay there until you receive further orders.  You’re to—”

“What?  No.  Why would you...”  Her eyes narrowed as he flinched.  “Hugh wants me to leave.”  She stepped closer to him, studying his face.  “You disagree with him, don’t you?”  At least someone knew her value.

He continued to stare into the distance.  “Your orders are for you to take over the training at base camp and—”

“I handle the advanced training.  Here.  I’m not going to be sent away to hide.”  She shoved past him, but he grabbed her arm.

“He wants you safe.”

“I’m safer on my own in the forest than here or at base camp.”  She pulled free and strode to Hugh’s tent.  There was no way she was going to let him send her away and forget about her.  They were going to have this out once and for all.  Her heart raced as she got closer to the tent.  If he decided there was nothing between them, even friendship, she’d deal with it but him ignoring her was over.  She was a valuable member of this team, of this war effort, and it was time he accepted that.  She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Hugh was bent over the table, staring at the map. He glanced at her and a deep, weary sighed slipped from his lips as he straightened.  “I’d hoped you’d take the order like a good soldier.  I was very specific with the wording so there wouldn’t be a misunderstanding this time.”  He turned around, running his hand through his hair, smiling slightly.  “I don’t know why I wasted the wish.”

“I won’t be sent away like a child or the infirm.”  Or someone you can’t stand to see or be near.  The last thought made her chest twist like a dishrag being wrung dry.

“I’m the leader.  You wanted that.”  His smile was gone.

She wouldn’t back down about this.  She couldn’t.  “We wanted you to help not—”

“Which I have.  Right?”

Grudgingly she nodded.  Hugh’s plans were working exceedingly well in the forest and the fight in the city was also going their way.  In short, they were winning the war, at least according to Townsend.  Birdie or one of his family members flew in at least once a week with an update.

“You have to trust me on this.”  His eyes shifted a bit.  “You’re the best one for this job.”

“To instruct basic training?  That’s a waste of my skills and you know it.”

“That’s not exactly...You didn’t give Jackson a chance to tell you all your orders.  Did you?”

Her face heated as she looked down at her feet.  He touched her hand, a slight brush of his fingers against hers.  She felt it all the way to her toes.  It’d been weeks since he’d touched her and she missed it—the way her blood raced, hoping for more than an innocent caress.

“I want Leena to take over the advanced training.”

She inhaled sharply.  That hurt.  She’d been working hard and had thought she’d been doing a good job, but obviously he didn’t.

“This isn’t a reflection on you.”  He reached for her but stopped and ran his hand through his hair instead.  “I can’t have only one person responsible for training.  Leena has mastered basic training.  She needs experience with advanced training.  While she learns, I need you to take over the basic training at base camp.”

“Fine.”  Cross-training made sense but he was hiding something from her.  He was having a hard time looking her in the eyes.  “I agree, but there should be more than the two of us with training knowledge.  Let her come here and let someone else handle basic training.  I can help Leena with the advanced training until she’s up to speed.”

“No.”  He took a deep breath.  “I mean, that’s a good idea about promoting someone else to lead basic training.  You can pick out the two best candidates and teach them.  I’ve had reports and Leena is more than capable to take care of advanced training on her own.”

He was trying to manipulate her but she wasn’t falling for it.  She’d gotten to know him too well for that to work anymore.  “She’s familiar with the forest but I’m better.”  It wasn’t arrogance.  It was the truth.  “Why are you sending me away?  Wouldn’t you rather have me here where you can keep an eye on me?”  That’s what he used to say when he’d follow her into the forest.  She wanted to ask if he were doing this because he didn’t want her near him, but the words wouldn’t pass her lips.  Something inside of her would shatter if he said yes.

“No.  I mean, yes, but I won’t...”  He ran his hand through his hair and actually gave it a hard tug.  “I need you at base camp.  It’s an order.”

She took a deep breath.  Knowing the truth was always better even if it hurt so much she’d rather die.  “Why don’t you want me around?  Are you still angry with me for coming here?  It was a good idea and you know it.  The soldiers are better trained because we’re here.”  She took another deep breath to steady her nerves.  “I want the truth.  I won’t go to base camp unless I know everything.”

“Can’t you, for once, just follow my orders without an argument?”  He stepped closer to her, reaching out like he was going to grab her shoulders before letting his hands drop to his sides.

She shook her head, afraid to say anything because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack.  She’d thought...Gaar had said, but they’d both been wrong.  Hugh didn’t like her.  He couldn’t even stand having her in the same part of the forest as him.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re too stubborn and curious for your own good.”  He opened his eyes and his gaze met hers.  “Definitely for my good.”  He walked back to the table and leaned against it.  “We’ve been working with Ray.  He has spies, loyal to the AC, who work in the homes of Almightys.  There are whispers of a large scale attack.  Retaliation for our victories.”

“Then I need to be here.  I can be more use—”

“No.”  It was firm and final.

“You can’t just tell me no.”  She crossed her arms over her chest.  She’d forgotten what a bossy ass he could be.

“That is exactly what a leader does.”  He pushed away from the table and strode over to her.  “You wanted this.  I’m leading your armies.  You’re a soldier.  Obey your orders and go.”  His breathing was heavy and there was a hint of desperation in his tone.

“No.”  She moved closer and poked him in the chest with her claw.  “You don’t treat me like a soldier.  You keep me out of everything.  You don’t send me on missions, tasks that I’d be very good at.”  She stood on tiptoe so that their noses almost bumped.  “You can’t start treating me like a soldier now and expect me to obey.  It doesn’t work that way.”

His gaze roamed down her body and back up.  His jaw hardened as he stared over her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes.  “Fine.  Stay here and be bored.”

“No.”  The word was growing on her.  It was concise and it made the muscle in his jaw twitch.  “As far as I’m concerned you’re no longer my leader.  So, our previous agreement is over.”

“Exactly, what do you mean by that”—he held up his hand to silence her—“and think very carefully about what you’re about to say.”  His eyes were almost black.

He was pissed but so was she.  “It means I don’t have to stay around here and be bored.  I can leave—”

He grasped her shoulders, his grip tight.  “You will not leave this camp—”

“I will and you can’t stop me.  Assign Guards to watch me or even House Servants.  It doesn’t matter.  I’ll figure out a way and sneak out.”

“Two spies were caught.”  His grip loosened but he didn’t let go of her.  “They were executed.”

The breath stilled in her chest.

“The war will start in earnest soon.”  His eyes locked with hers.  “The Almightys will launch a real attack, not a search and capture and we’ll also be attacking.”

“I can help with that.”  There was no way she was leaving him now.

“I can’t risk it.”  He shook his head as he dropped his hands from her shoulders.

“You aren’t.  I am.”

“You don’t understand.  Those two spies—”

“It wasn’t your fault.  These things happen in war.”  She touched his cheek.  There was a weariness in his eyes that she wanted to wipe away.  “You did everything you could.”

“I did nothing.”

Her hand trembled near his face.  “You didn’t find out in time.”  It was more a question than a statement.  That had to have been the reason he did nothing.  She knew him.  He helped everyone no matter the cost to himself.

“I did know and yet, I did nothing.”

“What?  Why?”  She lowered her arm.  She wished he was lying, but he wasn’t.  The truth was reflected in the sadness that surrounded him.

“Everyone knows the risks involved.  Everyone who agrees to fight or to spy agrees to do so at the possible expense of his or her life.”

“Why didn’t you help?”  Her hands clenched at her sides.  He had to have had a good reason.

“I couldn’t.  Not without risking too many others.”  He began pacing.  “Your father, Jackson, Bo and I spent days trying to figure out a way to help them, but it wasn’t possible.  “It’s the price of war.”  He stopped pacing.  “They understood that.  As long as we win, their deaths won’t be in vain.”

“What if it’d been Jackson or my dad who’d been captured?”  Her heart twisted at the thought.  It was a difficult fate to accept.

His eyes met hers.  They were filled with resignation and regret.  “In this situation, the end would’ve been the same.”

Her shoulders drooped.  He couldn’t have done anything to help them.  He’d never leave Dad or Jackson if there’d been any chance.  “I understand.”  She exhaled deeply.  “I accept that risk too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why?”  Now, she was confused.

“You’re different.”  He glanced away, running his hand through his hair.  “There are many in our group, key players, who’d risk everything to save you even if there was no hope.”

Now, she understood.  He didn’t want to take the chance of losing Gaar and Mirra, her Dad and probably even Jackson.  “I’ll talk to them.  I’ll explain that the war is the most important—”

He laughed.  It was a brittle sound.  “Like that’ll make a difference.”

“I won’t be hidden away like some prize.”

“But that’s what you are.”  His eyes pierced hers, begging her to understand.  “Do you actually think that if the Almightys catch you they’ll execute you?  They know your importance.  They’ll use you to get to us.”  He turned away.  “To me.”

She touched his shoulder.  He’d spoken the last two words in a whisper, obviously still not understanding how good her hearing was.

“Please.  This one time.  Do what I ask and go to base camp.”  His voice was low and raw, scared.

“No.”  She really liked that word.  “I have as much honor and integrity as the rest of you.  You’re also a prize but I don’t see you hiding.  So are Gaar, Mirra, Dad, Jackson and others.  If any of them are captured the Almightys will use them to get to us too.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again.

He turned around, his face filled with anger, pain or fear.  She couldn’t quite place the emotions.

“It is the same,” she said.  “We all take the same risks.”

He ran his hand through his thick, black hair.  She hated when he did that.  It made her fingers itch to touch his hair again.  It was so soft and silky.

He took a deep breath and stepped back.  “I’m begging you.”

“Not until you explain why it’s different for me.”  She moved toward him and jabbed him in the chest again.  “Do you think I’ll break under the Almightys’ torture because I’m a female?  Or is it because I’m part Producer?”

“I’m not good at this.”  He shook his head and began to pace.  “I’m not good with the words.  I never have been.”

She snorted.  “You’re excellent with speeches.  You’re a natural or haven’t you seen any of your propaganda videos?”

He strode over to her, stopping closer than he’d been before.  He breathed deeply and his chest brushed against hers.  His face was hard with anger.  She’d never seen him so mad.  She took a step back.  She wasn’t afraid of him but there was something in the way he was looking at her that made her stomach jittery.

“I’m not explaining this right.”  He took a step forward, his eyes gleaming.  “So, I’m going to have to show you.”

He reached out, his fingers stroking over her cheek as his hand slid around to the back of her neck.  She stared up into his blue eyes.  He was going to kiss her.  He was finally going to kiss her.  She wanted this more than anything in the world.  He leaned down and their lips met.  His were firm and yet gentle.  She reached up, running her hands through his hair.  It was softer than rabbit fur.  He groaned, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.  She’d been kissed before but this was different.  This was Hugh.

His hands wandered up and down her back, sending sparks through her blood.  His kiss was making her head spin but she didn’t want it to stop, ever.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him.  He groaned against her mouth and his kiss deepened even more.  A few moments later he pulled away, dropping his hold on her.

“Now, do you understand?”  His voice was ruff with passion.

She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.  She wasn’t sure about anything except she wanted to kiss him again.  “Why did you stop?”

He smiled.  It was pure male and it made her toes curl.  “Not because I wanted to.  I could kiss you forever.”  His eyes dropped to her mouth.

“That sounds good to me.”  She blushed and stepped closer.  That was the best kiss she’d ever had and she wanted to do it again.

“You have no idea what you’re saying.”  He moved backward, his eyes still on her mouth.  “Not until we talk to your father.”

“What does Dad have to do with this?”  She didn’t tell her father about every kiss.  She didn’t tell him about any.

“Do you really think all I want to do is kiss you?”

“Oh.”  Her cheeks burned.  She hadn’t thought about that.  She wasn’t sure if she was ready to take him as her mate.  “I...I...”  She was at a loss for words.

“It’s okay.”  He ran his hand up and down her arm.  “If you’re not ready, that’s fine.  We’ll go slow.  Just kisses for a while, but I’m a man not a boy.”

Her eyes roamed his body.  She wouldn’t argue with that.  He took her hand, his was rough and warm.  It felt right.

“I want you to be sure about this before we do anything else.  Okay?”

She nodded.

“No rushing.”  He tipped her face up so that her eyes met his.  “But that means when I stop, we have to stop.”  His lips tipped up at the corners in a half smile.  “The only reason I’ll be stopping is because if I don’t I won’t be able to.  Understand?”

She nodded.  She didn’t but there was no way she was going to admit that.  This conversation was embarrassing enough.

“Ah, shit.”  He leaned down and kissed her again.

This one was long and slow and she didn’t keep her hands around his neck.  They wandered down his back and arms.  He was so lean and muscular, so different from her.

His lips moved to her ear.  “Please go to base camp.  For me.”  He kissed a path down her neck.

She tipped her head giving him better access.  She’d do whatever he said.  “Okay.”

He stopped.  “Really?”

Her eyes opened and met his, her mind foggy from his kisses.  What was he asking?  She bit her lip.  She’d agreed to leave.  She couldn’t do that.  She shook her head.  “No.  I’m sorry.”

“You said you’d go.”  His voice was angry, hurt.

“I...I can’t.  I wasn’t thinking.”  Because of him.

“That’s good to know.”  He grinned.

She couldn’t stop herself.  She had to kiss that smile from his face.  She’d been wanting to for months now.  She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his.  He pulled her close and quickly took command of the kiss.

Too soon, he pulled back, his eyes dark with passion.  “That’s enough.”

She grinned, feeling confident in her femininity for the first time in her life.  If she kissed him again he’d lose control.  Her eyes moved to his mouth.

He shook his head.  “Unless you want to talk to your father, don’t even think about it.”

She flushed.  She wasn’t ready for that.  She liked Hugh, a lot, but she wasn’t sure she wanted him as her life’s mate.  They fought all the time.

He studied her for a moment, his eyes growing a little guarded and then he led her to a chair.  He sat on the one next to her, holding both of her hands.  “Please go to base camp and stay safe.”  He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, sending shivers across her skin.

“Hugh, I can’t.  I won’t hide.  It isn’t me.”  She brushed her lips against his, unable not to.  “You know that.”

He kissed her again, but it wasn’t like his other kisses.  This one was slow and warm, coaxing more than demanding.  He stopped, resting his forehead against hers.  “Please.  I can’t risk losing someone else that I lo...”  He pulled his head away from hers and cleared his throat.  “Someone that I care about.  I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

“And you don’t think I feel the same way?”  She couldn’t imagine her world without him in it.

“No.”  He smiled but it was self-deprecating.  “If you did, we’d be talking to your father.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it, not sure what to say to that.  Had he just admitted that he loved her?  A warm flush, different than the one when they were kissing, filled her body but it was quickly followed by guilt and questions.  Did she want him as her mate – for life?  Did she love him?

He raised her hands and kissed her knuckles.  “I’m begging.  Go to base camp until we figure out how the Almightys are going to retaliate.”

“I’d be back to fight?”

He closed his eyes and sighed.  “If that’s what I have to agree to in order to get you to leave fine.”  His gaze met hers.  “But, I won’t promise that I won’t try and persuade you to stay at base camp.”

She could do that.  It shouldn’t be long before they got word from Townsend on the Almightys’ plans.  Plus, getting away from him for a bit would be a good thing.  She needed time to think, to decide how she felt about him and having him around where she could kiss him wouldn’t help her make her decision with a clear mind.  “Okay.  Just until we find out what the Almightys are going to do or until we decide to attack.”

“I should’ve known you’d add conditions.”  His tone was hard but his eyes were smiling.

“That wasn’t a condition.  That was more of an amendment to our agreement.”

“Wow, who’s political now?”

“But, I do have one condition.”  She smiled at him.

“Why does that not surprise me?  You never,”—he gave her a quick kiss—“never”—he kissed her again—“make things easy.”

She wanted longer kisses than those.  The quick ones were teasers and she didn’t like being teased.  “Now, I have another condition.”

“That’s not fair.”

She shrugged.  “Life’s not fair.  You guys keep telling me that.”

“What do you want?”  He leaned back watching her closely.

If her conditions were different she’d fear that she’d have to fight for them.  As it was, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t have any trouble with either stipulation, especially the second one.

She ran her thumb over his knuckles. “One, don’t tell my dad anything, not yet.  I want us to figure out what we have between us before involving him and mom.”

“If you need time...that’s okay with me.”

His eyes were shadowed like she’d hurt him somehow.  She wasn’t sure what she’d said but she had to remove the pain from his face.  It made her heart ache.

“Two, you need to kiss me again and you need to kiss me enough to make up for the days I won’t be here.”

He grinned, all the hurt replaced with anticipation.  “I can do that.”  He pulled her onto his lap.  “I can definitely do that.”

CHAPTER 43:  TRINITY

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WHEN TRINITY AND HUGH came out of his tent, it was dark and the camp was quiet, everyone else having already retired for the night.  She hadn’t realized it was so late.  Kissing sure made time fly.  That’d be a definite benefit of having a mate around on long winter days and nights.  She flushed as she imagined evenings filled with kissing Hugh.

He turned on his flashlight.

“Turn that off.”  She shifted her head away.

“I can’t see,” he said.

“I’ll lead.”  She took his hand.  “Trust me.”

“Fatal last words, I’m sure,” he muttered as he turned off the flashlight.

“Hey.”  She raked her claws gently against his hand.

“Do that again and we’ll be back in my tent.”  He whispered in her ear,

“That’d be fine with me.”  She hadn’t wanted to leave anyway.  She was very curious as to what came after all the kissing and touching.

“You’re killing me.  You’re really killing me.”  He gave her a gentle nudge forward.  “Talk to your father and we’ll stay in my tent for days, weeks even.”  He grinned and her insides melted.  “But until then, we both need to get some sleep.”

She led him across camp, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes.  He was so handsome and honorable, too honorable.  If he were a little less principled, they’d be in his tent and she’d know what came after the kissing and touching.  She had no idea why she was hesitating about talking to her parents.  She liked him, a lot and he was a good male who’d treat her right, but she still wasn’t sure.  Gaar’s words rang in her ears.  Choosing a mate, choosing him, was forever and that was a long time.  She didn’t want to make a mistake.  She should talk to Kim.  She glanced at him again.  He’d kill her if she went to see Kim, but if he never found out...It’d be easy to sneak away from base camp.  She wouldn’t be gone long.  A twinge of guilt stabbed at her conscience.  She should share everything with her potential mate.  Her parents didn’t keep secrets from one another, but that was only one relationship.  She had no idea how it worked for others.  She needed to talk to Kim.  She stopped at the door to her tent.  She didn’t let go of his hand.  She should, but she wanted to lead him inside for more kisses.  It wouldn’t be smart though.  It was late and if anyone saw him, they’d question why he was in her tent.  Her being in his tent wasn’t abnormal.  Plus, everyone would expect her to seek him out to argue about being sent to base camp.  No one would believe he’d sought her out for that discussion.

“Is anyone around?”  He moved closer.

She glanced over his shoulder.  Camp was mostly dark but there were soft lights coming from a few of the Producer tents and the mess tent.  One of the first things Hugh had done was delegate the largest tent as a meeting and eating place.  This way all the classes would be forced to mingle at least a little.  His plan had worked.  It was taking time, but the groups were starting to realize they had some things in common, like family and cards.

“No.  It’s only us,” her voice was a soft whisper.  He was going to kiss her again, in the open and she couldn’t wait.

He leaned down.  She closed her eyes and tipped back her head.  He kissed her on the nose and stepped away.  Her eyes flew open.

“You should see the look on your face,” he said, laughing.

She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close as she stood on tiptoe her lips almost touching his.  “Don’t be a tease.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and touched his lips with hers.  The amusement fled from his face as he pulled her flush against his body and kissed her.  After a few moments he stopped.  His eyes were dark and hooded.  He took a deep breath and moved away.

“Goodnight.”  His voice was rough.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”  He turned on his flashlight and headed across camp.

She stared after him.  She wanted to make sure he was safe.  It had nothing to do with watching him walk, although, he did have a nice butt and it felt even better than it looked.  Her face heated.  She couldn’t believe she actually knew that for a fact.  She smiled and turned to go into her tent when a slight movement in the bushes caught her attention.  “Who’s there?”  Someone had been spying on them.  She’d been distracted by the thought of more kisses and now she was caught.

“Shhh, someone will hear you.”  Travis stepped out of the trees.

Holy Araldo!  Travis had seen her kissing Hugh.  “It’s not what it looked like.”

“I’m not stupid, Trinity.”  He came to stand beside her.  “You grabbed Hugh and kissed him and trust me, it wasn’t your first kiss.  I mean, with him.  I know it wasn’t actually your first-first kiss.”  He snapped his jaw shut, blushing a bit.

She flushed too.  They’d shared a few kisses over the years.  “You can’t say anything.  I mean—”

“Yeah, I know.  You made me promise when we—”

“I don’t want my parents to pester me about this.”

“Are you happy with him?”

She shrugged.  “I’m not sure how I feel about him.”

“From what I saw, you kind of know how you feel.  We never kissed like that.”

“It’s not like that.  I mean...this thing between Hugh and me...It was a surprise.”

“You’re kidding, right?  Everyone with eyes knows how he feels about you...and how you feel about him.”

“Please, tell me it’s not that obvious.”  If everyone knew, then her parents knew.

“Well, I doubt that everyone knows.”

She almost collapsed in relief.  If her parents pushed her to bond with Hugh, she would, whether she was ready or not.

“But it’s obvious to anyone who...who cares about you.”  He glanced down at the ground.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”  He looked back at her, his brown eyes sad.  “And...you were right.  We’re better friends than we’d ever be mates.”

She touched his hand.  “Sometimes, I wish it could be different.”  Life would be easy with him.  Nothing would be easy with Hugh.

He smiled, giving her hand a quick squeeze before pulling away.  “Me too, but if you’re going to bond with someone it should be the right one.”  His face flushed again.

He was set on Mirabelle.  It killed her, but he was her friend.  “I’m glad for you and Mirabelle.  Have you told her how you feel?”

“No.  It’s nothing serious.  Not yet.  I mean, it could be.”  His eyes met hers.  “I wish you’d give her a chance.  She’s not as bad as you think.  She’s grown up a lot.  She feels bad about the Finishing Camp and everything.”

“Oh, okay.  I guess.”  She doubted that Mirabelle felt too badly about anything, but if she didn’t make peace with the other female it’d be the end of her friendship with Travis.

He pulled her into a big hug.  “You should have dinner with us.”

“Us?”  Were they living together already?  She really needed to pay more attention around camp.

“Yeah, we have dinner together whenever we’re both at camp.  Not on patrol.”

“Oh.  That’s great and I will as soon as I get back.  I’m leaving for base camp in the morning.”  She wasn’t looking forward to sitting through an entire meal with Mirabelle, but she’d stomach it for Travis.

“Oh.”  His face fell a little.

“What’s wrong?”  Her eyes narrowed.  “When did you get here?”  She hadn’t seen a group of the different classes arrive today.  Hugh had arranged it so that the groups on patrol only worked for a couple of weeks.  It was difficult for most of them to live in the forest day after day, always being on alert.  Once they finished their tour of duty, they were given downtime at this camp or base camp.  Travis had been sent to base camp.  “Who came back with you?”

“I don’t know their names.”

“None of them.”  She watched him closer.  Travis was trying very hard to get along and meet all the people in the other classes and he was pretty good with names.

“We can talk about it tomorrow.  I’m tired.  It was a long trip.”  There were bags under his eyes and he looked older, weary.

“Yeah.  Sure.  I’m sorry.  I’ll find you before I leave.”  She was asking too many questions again.

“Oh, Jackson said he might send some of us out early.  I doubt it’ll be me since I just got here, but...”  He turned to leave.  “I’ll find you at base camp if I miss you tomorrow.”

“I thought you just came from base camp?”  She grabbed his arm.  He wouldn’t be creeping around outside of her tent unless something was wrong or he needed to talk to her.  “What’s going on?  And don’t bother lying to me.  I can tell when you’re lying.”  She’d known him all her life.  He’d never been a good liar.

“Nothing.  I wanted to talk to you about something I heard but...never mind.”  He shook her hand off his arm.

“You can talk to me about anything.  We’re friends.”  She smiled at him.  “I’m willing to have dinner with Mirabelle for you.”

“Stop talking about her like that.”  His tone was angry but he smiled slightly.  “Although, I guess for you that is a big step.”

“You have no idea.”

He glanced around.  “You have to promise not to say anything to Hugh.”

“Why?”  She didn’t want to keep secrets from Hugh.  Well, unless they were her secrets and it was for his good, like her sneaking over to see Kim.

“I heard rumors when I was at base camp.  A couple of Servants had snuck into town and they’d overheard some Guards in the Protective Services talking about how there’d be more meat in their bellies soon.”  His face paled.  “The Supreme Almighty is taking the Producer Camps away from the Remores.”

“Oh, Travis.  We have to tell Hugh.”  She turned and he grabbed her arm.

“No.  Not yet.”

“But he needs to know.  We need to do something.”  She tugged but he only tightened his grip.  She could scratch him and get free but the desperation on his face halted her.

“I agree, but he won’t.  It’ll be too risky.  That’s why I was waiting for you.  You promised to help me get my family out.  Stuart’s mate had to have had the baby by now.”  His words tumbled out in a panic.

“And we will.  I promise.”

“You can’t tell Hugh.  He won’t let us go.”  His eyes were wild as he let go of her arm to clasp onto her hand.  “I have to save them, Trin.  You understand.  You have to understand.”

“I do and I’ll help.  I promise.”  She would help, but it might not be in the way he wanted.

His breathing calmed and he loosened his hold on her hand.  “And you won’t tell Hugh?”

Her throat tightened.  She hated lying to Travis.  He’d been her friend forever, but she couldn’t keep this from Hugh.  “No.  I won’t tell him.”  She could tell Jackson and he’d tell Hugh.  That way she wouldn’t actually be lying to Travis.

“We should go.  We need to—”

“Tomorrow.  We’ll leave in the morning.”

“Trinity...”  He watched her, uncertainty in his eyes.

“I promise.  When have you known me to break my promises?”

“Never.  I guess.”

“You’re exhausted and traveling at night isn’t easy for you and won’t be easy for your family either.”  She touched his cheek.  “Get some rest.  We’ll leave tomorrow.  I’ll sneak away from the group that’s heading for base camp and we’ll go free your family.”

The relief on his face made her stomach twist.  Tomorrow, she’d betray her oldest friend.  She’d try and convince Hugh to let her go with Travis and whoever else he assigned to free the Producers, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t agree.  He’d insist she go to base camp like she’d promised.  Heaviness settled in her chest.  She hated the idea of hiding at base camp while her friends risked their lives for the war, but she’d give it a try, for Hugh.  However, if they didn’t learn how the Almightys were going to retaliate within a week or two, she and Hugh would have another conversation and that one probably wouldn’t end in kisses.

CHAPTER 44:  HUGH

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HUGH STRETCHED AND SAT up, tossing his legs over the side of his cot.  He tried but he couldn’t quit smiling.  Trinity liked him and he liked her.  It didn’t matter if she still had feelings for Jethro.  His smile faltered a bit.  Okay, it mattered a little but by her response to his kisses last night, he’d have no problem making her forget the boy even existed.  He pulled on his shoes and socks.  All he had to do was end this stupid war and then the two of them could move forward.  He’d court her.  He almost laughed out loud.  It was an old fashioned word but it fit.  He didn’t want to date her.  Dating was ambiguous, as if the outcome didn’t matter and it did.  He wanted her for his wife, his mate.  They could live in the forest and raise their family.  Hopefully, their kids would take after her with her gorgeous eyes and...

A female cleared her throat.  “High Hugh Truent, what, or should I ask who, puts that smile on your face so early in the morning?”  Meesus prowled across the room and ran her claw down his bare chest.  “I know it wasn’t me or any nighttime activities, since you were alone in your lonely bed.”

“You’re early.”  He looked for his shirt, but it was on the other side of his tent in the pile of clothes that needed to be washed.  “You weren’t supposed to be here for another week.”  He’d prepared Jackson to take over leading the army the best that he could, but he’d hoped for another few days.  He stood, his chest almost brushing against hers.  He stepped to the side, trying to put distance between them.

“Most males are happy to see me.  Early or late.”  Her lips jutted out in a pout, but her eyes were curious as she watched him.

He didn’t have time for her games.  He needed her gone, or hidden, or something until Trinity left.  “The lab’s ready?”

“Yes.”  She strolled back to the table where she’d been sitting and picked up her purse.

He dug in his sack of clean clothes for a shirt, not bothering to ask how she’d found this camp.  She wouldn’t tell him.  He’d tried that the last time.  He’d had Tim snoop around but they’d met with nothing but dead ends and closed lips.  Ray didn’t know or wasn’t telling and her companions were loyal to her.  His money was on Say.  The little creep disappeared too often for his comfort.  He’d asked Townsend to see what he could dig up on the little Servant.

“We should leave soon, but we have a little time.”  She glided over to him, her hand caressing his arm.  “I know how lonely it must be out here for a”—her eyes roamed his form—“young, healthy male.”

He stepped away from her, clasping the first shirt he found.  “I’m sorry.”  This wouldn’t go over well if Trinity stopped by before she left.

“It was only an offer.”  She shrugged, but her eyes were calculating.

She was up to something.  A scorned female could be dangerous.  “And I appreciate it, I do.”  He smiled, buying himself some time to come up with an excuse.  Telling her he was interested in someone else wouldn’t be the wisest course of action.  “But, I’m eager to leave for the lab and there isn’t much privacy here.”  He slid his arms into the shirt.  It was a dress shirt and not warm enough for the weather, but it’d have to do until he had a moment alone.  He glanced at the flap that was his door.  Guards and Producers walked past as he spoke.

“Of course,” she smiled.  “We shall leave now.”

“Not quite yet.”  He took her hand and guided her to the table.  “Please, wait here while I let the others know I’ll be leaving today.”  He moved to the door and glanced out the tent.  “Where are your companions?”  She hadn’t traveled alone and he couldn’t afford for Trinity to see any of Meesus’ friends.

She sauntered over to him.  “They are resting in your large tent.  Playing cards and eating.”  She slipped past him out the door.  “You cannot hide me in your tent, High Hugh.  I shall wait for you with my friends.”

“Please don’t call me that.”  He followed her as he buttoned his shirt.

“I think that is the least of your problems.”  Her eyes gleamed as she stared across the camp.

He didn’t need to look.  He knew what he’d see.  He’d planned on Trinity being gone before he left.  He hadn’t wanted to lie to her but he had to make sure she was safe while he was away and giving her orders hadn’t worked the last time.  When he raised his eyes and met hers, his knees almost buckled.  Her large, golden gaze was hurt and confused and then her eyes narrowed.

“Shit,” he muttered.  So much for his plans.

CHAPTER 45:  TRINITY

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TRINITY STRODE ACROSS THE camp.  Hugh’s hair was messed as if someone’s fingers had run through it and his shirt was unbuttoned.  His eyes darted to Meesus, guilt written all over his face.  Her heart twisted and she stopped, halfway between her tent and his.  Meesus moved closer to Hugh, smiling in a smug manner.  Part of her wanted to crawl back under her covers and never come out but another part wanted to slice them both to shreds.  Her eyes narrowed and Meesus’ smiled widened.  He’d said that he was a man not a boy and she’d dragged her feet about bonding with him, but if he thought he could mate with someone else and it’d be okay with her, he was wrong.  Anger pushed her hurt aside as if it were no more substantial than a whisper of smoke on a stormy day and she continued toward him.

She wanted...No, she demanded fidelity and there were no second chances.  She wanted a relationship like her mom and dad’s and nothing else would do.  She and Hugh had not paired yet but she wasn’t getting involved with someone who’d go from kissing her to mating with someone else.  It was over between them.  Her heart skipped, hollow at the thought of her life without him, but those feelings burned like kindling for her rage.  She hadn’t been sure about him last night.  It was probably her instincts.  Now she knew.  He was a Grunt’s ass.

The closer she got the guiltier he looked.  Good, because she wasn’t going to let this go.  Oh no.  He’d hear what she thought about him, the...the...jerk.  She snorted.  He probably hadn’t figured she’d be up this early.  She stopped in front of them.  “Well, this is your unlucky day.”

“Excuse us for a moment.”  He glanced at Meesus.

Meesus nodded and walked a few feet away.

“Trinity, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?  That’s all you have to say.  You go from kissing me to mating with her.”

A few of the others came out of the mess hall, her tone drawing everyone’s attention.  He grabbed her arm, tugging her toward his tent.

“Don’t touch me.”  Her claws popped out.  If he didn’t let go, she’d scratch him and she wasn’t sure she’d stop until his handsome face was a mess.

He pulled her closer, whispering, “You’d better keep your voice down if you don’t want your parents to hear all about this.”

She jerked free from his grasp.  There was no way she could risk letting her mom and dad find out about last night.  They were so eager to have her mated that they’d side with Hugh and try to force her to bond with him.  She shoved him out of her way and pushed inside his tent.  He followed, his warm breath on the back of her neck, causing a shiver of desire and then anger to burn through her.  She hated him.  She was not attracted to him.  She was not.

She spun around, stepping back to put some space between them.  “It doesn’t matter what my parents know.  Not now.”  It did but that was the first thing she’d thought to say.  “There is no way I’ll ever bond with you...you...Grunt’s ass.”  She wished she knew better swear words.  That wasn’t descriptive enough for what he was.  “I’d rather die.”

He shook his head in exasperation.  She was used to that look.  She’d seen it on his and Gaar’s faces many times.

“I didn’t mate with Meesus,” he said.

“What?  But I saw you...”  Her mind raced.  She’d seen them leaving his tent.  He’d been buttoning his shirt.

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I didn’t mate, breed, bond, make love, or whatever you want to call it with Meesus.”  He took her hands.  “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Oh.  You didn’t...”  Her anger was turning into confusion and something else, something warm.

“No.  I didn’t.”

“Did you want to?”  She glanced down at her feet, her cheeks on fire.

“Only with you.”  He moved closer until barely an inch separated their bodies.

“What if...you start to want someone else?”  She didn’t think it was possible but her face heated even more.  She must look like an overripe tomato.

“We may not have decided what we are to each other, but I’d never hurt you like that.”  He kissed her ear.  “I’d tell you first, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.  I’m a one-woman kind of guy.”  His fingers found her chin and tipped her face up until their eyes met.  “Understand?” he asked, his lips only a breath away from hers.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding through his hair.  He hadn’t betrayed her.  He still wanted her.

He pulled back his head but kept her flush against his body.  “The team will be leaving for base camp soon.  Are you packed?”  His hand roamed down her back and he kissed her again.

“Yes,” she said as his lips moved to her neck.  She tipped her head, giving him better access.  “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay?”  She wanted to stay right here, kissing him.

He sighed.  “No.  You need to go.”  He gave her a quick kiss before leading her to the door.  “I want you safe.”

“Okay.”  Her tone was petulant and he laughed.

“It won’t be for long.  I promise.”  His eyes dropped to her mouth.  “I don’t think I could stand being away from you for too long.”  His lips twitched, fighting a smile.  “There’d be no one to drive me crazy and argue with me.”

“Hey!”  She slapped his arm.

He laughed and pulled her close again.  “I’ll miss you.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.  It was long and deep and she never wanted to stop, but too soon he moved away.

“They’ll be waiting for you.”  He stepped out of his tent and she followed.  “I’ll see you later,” he said, his eyes warm.

She bit her lip.  She’d really like to stay with him, but if he wanted her to go to base camp, she would.  Right now, she’d do almost anything for him.  She leaned in close and whispered.  “You’ll owe me a lot more kisses for this.”

“Changing our deal already?”  His eyes were teasing.

“No.  You haven’t kissed me enough to make up for one day of me being gone.”

His eyes darkened.  “We kissed for hours last night.”

She shrugged.  “Not enough.”  She grinned up at him.  “I like kissing you, so I plan on doing it a lot.”

His eyes wandered up and down her body.  “That can be arranged.”  He cleared his throat and glanced away.  “Take care and be careful.”

The teasing was gone from his tone.  She glanced over her shoulder and her dad was watching them.  “You too,” she said and then hurried across camp.

Everyone was ready to leave but her.  The team was waiting near the trees.  She ran into her tent and stopped.  Meesus sat on the bed studying her claws.  She’d forgotten to ask Hugh what Meesus was doing there.

Meesus looked up a smug smile playing about her lips.  “Ah, you and Hugh have finally...”  She waved her hands in the air.  “I thought perhaps that is why he refused my offer to mate.”

“You tried to mate with him?”  She was going to claw the other female’s smug smile from her face.

“Do not get upset.  I only offered for you.”

“For me?”  This was unbelievable.  “Please, don’t do me any favors.”

“I knew you liked him and he liked you.  I offered so you would know what kind of male he is.”  Her eyes hardened.  “It is good for a female to know this before she falls too deep in love.”

“I’m not in love with him.”  The words flew out by habit.  “Ah, well, I mean, I don’t know if I love him or not.”

“Ah.  Then you must protect yourself.  Do you know how?  I should have mentioned it before.”  Meesus shrugged.  “But I forgot.  Hopefully, it is not too late.”  Her eyes drifted to Trinity’s stomach.

“No.  I mean, we haven’t.”  Her cheeks heated.  “Please don’t tell Ray.  He’ll tell my dad and my parents will try and force me to pair with Hugh.”  She clamped her mouth shut.  She hadn’t meant to say so much.

“You could do much worse than Hugh.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”  She stared down at her feet.  She was messing this up and there was a good chance Meesus would tell Hugh everything she said.  “I like him, a lot, but I’m not sure.  Bonding is for life.”  She looked up into the older woman’s eyes.  “We’ve only kissed.  I swear.”

“You do not want to mate with him?”

“I do want to.”  Her face felt like it was on fire.  “I mean, I never have and I’m curious but he won’t until we talk to my parents.”

Meesus laughed.  “He is too good a male, perhaps.”

“You can say that again.”  She didn’t know of many, if any other males who would’ve made that a consideration before mating.  She moved over by her bed and grabbed her backpack.

“Where are you going?”

“Base camp.”

“I would have thought one such as you would be of better use in the field.”

So did she but it felt disloyal to question Hugh’s orders to someone else.  She’d already told the older female more than she’d planned.  She shrugged.

“So, this is not your decision.”  Meesus glided across the tent.

She kept her eyes averted.  “Hugh thinks it’d be best.”  The words tasted bitter on her tongue.  It may be best for him, but not for her and not for the AC.

Meesus touched her shoulder and she glanced up.  The other woman’s eyes were usually sultry like they held the secrets to life, but now they were hard.

“Come.”  Meesus took her hand and led her to the bed.  She sat and pulled Trinity down next to her.  “Take some advice from someone who has too much experience.  Do not let a male change you.”

“I won’t.  I’m not.”

“Then you too think you would serve best at base camp?”

“I...no.”  She glanced away, cringing at her disloyalty.  “But, Hugh’s our leader and it’s what he wants.”  She turned back to the other female.  “And it’s only for a little while.”

Meesus ran a finger down Trinity’s cheek.  “So soft, so innocent.”  She patted Trinity’s hand.  “Males will try and change you.  They all want to mold you and take away your power over yourself.  Do not let them.”

“That’s not what this is.”  It wasn’t.  He wanted her safe.

“Listen.”  Meesus smiled to take the sting out of the word.  “Males cannot help it.  They think they know better than us.  They do not.  We know us better than they ever will.”

“He’s trying to protect me.”

“I’m sure that is true.  Hugh is a good male, but he is a male.”

“Mom says that being paired is a compromise.”

“Your mother is right.  Somewhat.  If your male likes you in red, wear red.  If he likes your hair short, cut it, but if he wants you to change”—Meesus tapped Trinity over the heart—“who you are, don’t let him.  He will try.  He will say it is for your own good or to protect you, but do not let him.  You know what is best for you.”

“Hugh isn’t trying to change me.”  But he was asking her to do something that didn’t sit well with her.

“Perhaps not, but if you let him convince you to do things you do not want to do, you will change and eventually, you will hate him for turning you into someone else.”  These words were spoken with a hint of sadness.  Meesus kissed Trinity on both cheeks.  “Hugh loves you.  The girl you are right now.  Do not let him change what he loves about you.”

“Hugh never said he loved me.”  But he did want to talk to her father and that meant bonding.

Meesus smiled, running her hand down Trinity’s face again.  “So young.”  She headed for the door.

“Meesus.”

The other female stopped, turning toward her.

“Thank you.  I...I think you’re right.  I’ll talk to Hugh.  I don’t want to go to base camp.”  She didn’t want to hide while others were risking their lives.

“You had better hurry.  We leave soon.”

“What do you mean?”  A chill ran down her spine.  “Why are you here at camp?”  It was a stupid question.  She knew the answer.  She’d known it all along but she’d refused to think about it.

“Oh, you poor girl.  Hugh didn’t tell you.”  Meesus laughed.  “What did he do, sidetrack you with kisses?”

She blushed.  He’d distracted her and convinced her to leave, but why?  They’d agreed that he’d go to the lab and make the serum.  Dread trickled from her mind to her gut.  “No.  It wasn’t like that.”  She was beginning to believe that it was.  “I knew he was going to the lab.  We have a deal.  He’s going to make the serum and return to fight the war.”

“No.”  Meesus’ eyes were like jade.  “He has a deal with me.  He’s staying at the lab until my job is done.”

“He promised me.”

“Did he tell you I was coming?”  Meesus’ lips quirked up on the sides.  “He’s known for weeks.”

“No, but he wouldn’t break his word.”  She stood.  She had to talk to him.

“He is breaking his word to one of us.”  Meesus stepped in front of the door, stopping Trinity from leaving.  “And it is not me.  You were supposed to leave for base camp today.  Yes?  I was supposed to arrive next week.  I am early.  That is why he distracted you with kisses.  He wants you gone so he can leave and you would never know.”

She shook her head but the truth in Meesus’ words echoed through her.  He’d convinced her to go to base camp by using his kisses last night.  He’d distracted her today with his kisses.  She was a fool.  He didn’t want her.  He didn’t love her.  He was breaking his word, breaking his deal and he’d hoped she’d never find out.

“I am sorry.  It is a hard lesson for us females to learn but all males break their word to us like we are nothing.  They use kisses to distract us and words of love to convince us to follow their commands.  No males can be trusted.”  Meesus cupped Trinity’s cheek.  “You should put a few drops of the potion I gave to you on your claws and kiss him again.  It is what he deserves.”  Her eyes were bitter.  “I would insist, except we need to travel fast and dragging a sleeping Hugh through the forest would not be fast.”

It was clear now.  Hugh’s lab was ready and he was leaving.  Leaving the forest.  Leaving the war.  Leaving her.  That’s why he’d looked so guilty and she’d thought he’d mated with Meesus, but instead he’d deceived her in a different way.  If he’d planned on honoring their deal he would’ve told her the truth, but instead he’d made up a story about needing her at base camp and when she didn’t fall for it, he’d used his kisses to sway her.

“I am sorry,” said Meesus.  “Truly I am.  We females are fools and will do anything for the males we love.”

“I don’t love Hugh.”  Right now, she hated him.

“Of course not.”  Meesus smiled but this time it was sad.  “Shall I tell him you need to speak with him before we leave?  It is good to get all that anger out.  Yell at him.  Curse at him.”  Her eyes gleamed.  “Scratch him.”

“No.  I don’t want to talk to him.”  Ever again.

“Are you going to base camp?”  Meesus tipped her head, studying her.  “Males can be deceitful creatures, but so can we.”

She met the other female’s eyes.  She had no reason to follow his command, not now.  Hers lips curled in a snarl.  She refused to feel guilty about breaking her word when he was doing the exact same thing to her.

“If you are not going to base camp, please do not tell Hugh.  That would make our journey difficult.”  Meesus sighed.  “The Victor is here, so Hugh will be leaving with me, but it will be an easier trip if he travels on his own two feet.”

“Don’t worry.  As I said, I don’t want to speak with him.”

“Don’t be too hard on him.”  Meesus squeezed her hand.  “He is a good male but he is only a male.”

As soon as Meesus left, Trinity’s body trembled.  She needed to get out of there.  Run through the forest, vent some steam and she knew exactly where she’d go.  She’d keep one promise.  She’d help Travis free his family.  Hugh’s distracting kisses had backfired.  She’d been going to talk to him about Travis and the Remore Producer Camps but she’d forgotten all about it. Now, she could leave with Travis and free some Producers.  She wouldn’t tell Hugh but he’d hear about it and he’d be as mad as she was.  It’d serve him right.

“Trinity, the team’s waiting for you.”  Jackson stood in the doorway.

She took a deep breath, trying to appear calm.

“What’s wrong?”  The Guard stepped inside, watching her closely.

“Did Hugh tell you he’s leaving?”

“Yeah.”  He glanced away, guilt all over his face.

“And I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Jackson continued staring past her.

“Why?  What did you think I’d do?”  It hurt that her friends had so little faith in her.  Forget Hugh.  It didn’t matter that he didn’t trust her.  She didn’t trust him either.

Jackson took a deep breath.  “We were a little worried you’d do something stupid.”

“Stupid?  Like saving Hugh or helping you when Crazy had you in the water?”

“Yes.  You tend to act first and think later.  Hugh...We thought you’d be upset that Hugh was leaving so—”

“You decided to send me away so I wouldn’t find out.”  She flexed her hands, claws slipping in and out of her fingertips.

“You knew he was leaving eventually.  He has to make the serum.”  Jackson still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

It was like a punch to the gut.  Jackson knew Hugh was breaking his deal with her and he wasn’t going to tell her.  “When did he find out his lab was ready?”  This was the pivotal question.

“What difference does it make?”

It made all the difference.  If he’d known last night when he’d been kissing her, then it’d all meant nothing.  He’d known she was attracted to him and had used that attraction to get her to obey.  He didn’t like her.  He didn’t care for her.  Her throat tightened, but she choked back the tears.  “I can ask Meesus.”  Jackson had no idea the other female had already told her everything.  She headed for the door.  “She might even tell me a few other things.  Hugh did mate with her once.”

“Why are you acting like this?”  He grabbed her arm, staring down at her.  “He’s worried about you.  He cares for you.”  He tipped her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes.  “He’s not going to mate with Meesus.”

“When did he find out he was leaving?”  She needed to hear it.  Her heart wanted to believe in Hugh so she had to hear the words.

He sighed.  “Several weeks ago.”

She pulled away from him, her spirit so damaged and brittle that a soft wind could break her into thousands of tiny shards.

“He wanted to tell you.  We talked about it, but we didn’t want to upset you.”

Yes, they’d talked about it.  All the males.  They’d met and discussed things that pertained to her and her life without speaking with her.  They’d shut her out.  Well, she wasn’t going to sit around letting Hugh decide what she should or shouldn’t do.  She kept her gaze averted.  “He should’ve told me.”

“Maybe, but the decision was made and he stuck with it.  He’s responsible for more than himself.  He has to take everyone into consideration.”

Everyone but me.

“Are you okay?”  He ducked his head, trying to meet her gaze.  “You should talk to him before you go.”

“I don’t need to talk to him.  Ever.”  She grabbed her backpack.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid are you?”

“No.”  Her definition of stupid and his varied greatly.

“Curtis reported that Travis was here last night.  He’s supposed to be at base camp.  I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find him.”

Travis was going to pay for leaving without her.  He must’ve guessed that she was going to tell Hugh.  She blinked, keeping her thoughts from her face.

“Have you seen him?”  Jackson watched her closely.

“I haven’t seen Travis in weeks.”  She looked him right in the eyes as she lied and she refused to feel badly about it.  Jackson would be heading up the army in Hugh’s absence, so he had to know Hugh was planning on doing more than making the serum and returning.

“Are you sure?”  He frowned, suspicion in his gaze.  “Curtis said you were speaking with Travis late last night.”

“Curtis is wrong.”  She poked her claws into her thighs.  Jackson could’ve told her that part earlier.  He was trying to trap her in a lie.  Well, she’d spent a lot of time around Hugh and he was an expert liar.  She’d do what he did.  Brazen it out.  “I was with Hugh last night.”  Her faced heated at Jackson’s widened eyes.  “Not all night and not like that.”  But she’d wanted it to be like that.  It would’ve been like that if Hugh had really liked her.  The only reason he’d refused wasn’t because he’d wanted to speak with her father, but because he didn’t actually want her at all.  She blinked back tears.  “We were...arguing about me going to base camp and then he walked me to my tent.  I didn’t speak with anyone but Hugh.”

“Okay.  I’ll talk to Curtis again.”  He didn’t sound like he believed her, but his face was red.  He must also not believe that she and Hugh had only argued last night.

“I should go.”  She flung her backpack over her shoulder.  “Like you said, the team is waiting and I need to get away from here.”

He stepped in front of her.  “Give him a break.  He’s only doing this to keep you safe.”

“Like you did with Kim.”  She picked up her quiver of spears as she walked out of the tent.  Males were so frustrating.  Always thinking they knew what was best.  Well, she knew what she needed to do and it wasn’t going to base camp.

Jackson followed her.  “You may not agree but leaving Kim was the best thing for her and sending you to base camp is the best thing for you.”

“You’re right.”  She looked back at him.  “The last time I was at Kim’s she seemed happy.  Oh, that’s right, you were there too.  Didn’t she look happy kissing that Almighty?”  She almost felt bad when his eyes dimmed with pain, but he’d broken up with Kim for a stupid reason and it was time he realized it.  “Where’s the team that’s going to base camp?”  She needed to mix in with them until they were out of sight.

He pointed to a group of about fifteen House Servants, Guards and Producers, his mouth drawn and tight.

“See ya.”  She strolled over to them.  Her eyes met Hugh’s for a moment.  She smiled, trying to hide her anger.  He looked guilty for a moment and then smiled back.  She was getting better at lying.

She pulled her gaze away from him.  They could both have their secrets.  Maybe, they were perfect for each other.  She snorted.  Not on her life.  She’d rather die alone than be with someone she couldn’t trust.  He could sneak off to his lab and she’d ditch this group and find Travis.  Once she had him and the other Producers safely back to base camp, she’d go find Mirra.  The Tracker should be due anytime now and she needed a break from all of this.

CHAPTER 46:  TRINITY

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TRINITY STOPPED RUNNING.  THE Producer Encampment was up ahead, but something didn’t feel right.  She climbed a tree and studied the area.  Everything looked okay but Gaar and Mirra had taught her that her survival instinct was strong.  If she listened to it, she’d be fine.  She moved to another tree a little closer to the camp.  There was movement in the brush.  It was Travis.  He was almost at the fence line.  Stuart wasn’t around but that wasn’t unusual.  It wasn’t safe for him to wait at the fence, so he’d wander past the area until he saw Travis.

The wind picked up a little.  She shifted to catch the breeze.   Guards were nearby.  Her heart started racing, but she couldn’t let panic set in.  She scanned the area again, slower this time.  Three Guards were making their way through the forest toward Travis.  If she yelled to warn him the Guards would hear and Travis would never outrun them.  She had to get him out of there without tipping off the Guards.  She steadied her breathing and studied the Guards.  They were spreading out to surround Travis which left small openings between them.  If she moved fast she could get to Travis before the Guards.  She dropped to the ground and darted through the brush.  She zipped through the forest, making sure to stay hidden in the vegetation, but the Guards must’ve seen or heard her for they started moving faster, no longer trying to be quiet.

“Travis!  Run!  It’s a trap,” she yelled.

Travis turned in her direction, eyes wide.

“Go!  Now!”  She stopped and spun around, spear and knife in her hands.  He’d get caught if he didn’t move.  “I’ll catch up.”

A large, male Guard skidded to a halt in front of her.  “Take it easy.  We aren’t going to hurt you.”

Another Guard lunged out of the bushes to her right.  She jumped, kicking him in the face.  He hit the ground, unconscious, but a live enemy was a future threat.  She raised her spear to end his life when the other two Guards rushed her.  Travis rammed into one, sending him flying through the air as she hit the other one upside the head with the side of her spear.

She shoved Travis.  “Run, you idiot.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“We don’t have time to argue.”  There were noises in the bushes.  More Guards were coming.  “Please.  Just go!”  She moved toward the unconscious Guards, to make sure they’d never hunt again.

“I’m not leaving without you.”  Travis grabbed her arm, dragging her into the bushes.

She could’ve freed herself and killed the Guards, but it would’ve wasted time they didn’t have, especially since Travis wouldn’t keep going.  She sheathed her knife and slid her spear into her quiver as they raced through the forest.  They were moving fast, but they were being followed.  She couldn’t tell how many were chasing them but it sounded like more than three.  She shoved Travis into some thicker brush.  “Go.  I’ll find you later.”

“No.  I’m not a coward.”  He had that stubborn look on his face that she knew too well.

“Then you’d better move.”  She took off running.  He tromped along behind her but he couldn’t keep up and that meant he was slowing her down.  She stopped.  “They’re gaining on us.  We need to split up.”

“What?  No.”

“We have to.  Trust me.  It’s our only chance.”  She gave him a gentle shove.  “You go that way.”  She turned and ran in the other direction.

She stopped after a few feet and crept back through the brush.  Travis stood there for a moment before taking off in the direction she’d told him to go.  She waited.  He’d never outrun the Guards, but she could.  The only problem was making sure they followed her and not him.  Her hands trembled as she moved out of the vegetation, making herself completely visible and vulnerable.

A few minutes later four Guards burst through the bushes, eyes gleaming when they saw her.  Three of them were the ones she’d already fought and they looked eager to catch her.  She should’ve taken the extra few minutes to kill them.  She turned to run in the opposite direction from where Travis had gone and slammed into something large and hard.  Strong hands grabbed her shoulders steadying her.

“I got you.”  Jethro smiled down at her.

She stared up into his blue eyes.  She’d forgotten how mesmerizing his smile could be.

“Find the male,” he ordered.  “Don’t hurt him, but bring him back before he warns the others.”

“Jethro, let us go.  Please.”  She hated to beg, but this was Jethro.  He’d been her friend once.  He couldn’t have changed that much.

“Oh Little One, I wish I could.”  He started leading her back toward the encampment.

The four Guards took off after Travis.  There was no way he’d evade them.

“Then take me.  Let Travis go.  Please.”

“What kind of a deal is that?  I already have you.”  His eyes traveled down her body.

Her claws came out.  That’s what he thought.  She spun toward him, the heel of her hand connecting under his chin and snapping back his head.  His grip loosened.  She slashed his arm, yanked free and raced off into the bushes after Travis.

“Gruntshit,” he yelled and then he was after her.

She’d outrun him without any problem.  He was an Almighty, but she still had to contend with the four Guards.  Hopefully, a few were slower than the others and she wouldn’t have to deal with all of them at once.  A rustle in the bushes behind her caused her to glance back.  It was Jethro, but that was impossible.  She picked up her pace and so did he.  He was fast, faster than Hugh, possibly even faster than most Guards.  It wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought to lose him.  The trees were too far apart here for her to travel that way, so it’d be a foot race.

She lengthened her stride, but for every step she took he seemed to take two.  If she didn’t do something soon, he’d be close enough to grab her and he didn’t look happy.  “Give up, Jethro.  You’ll never catch me and you know it.”

“I’m just getting started,” he answered.

They were going farther and farther into the forest, but he was still on her tail. Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped looking for tracks left by Travis and the Guards.  Hopefully, Travis had been able to lose them.  If he hadn’t, she’d go back and free him, but first she had to ditch Jethro.  She veered into the thicker brush.  He followed close behind her, too close, but soon the forest grew denser.  Relief trickled down her spine.  She’d made it.  She launched herself onto a tree and scurried upward.  She grabbed a branch and jumped to the next tree.  This was her home, her forest.  No Almighty would catch her here.

She moved from tree to tree, her breath coming in pants and her heart thudding in her chest, trying to get out.  There was no way he’d be able to keep up.  She was moving fast and he was on foot.  She stopped.  The next tree was too far.  She’d have to go to ground.  She waited, listening to the forest.  It was quiet.  She’d lost him.  She didn’t have to go to ground.  She could wait.  She inhaled deeply, slowing her breathing.  Now was the time to be silent.  He’d never find her concealed by the foliage.

The birds chirped and the squirrels chattered.  Normal forest sounds.  She’d have to go back to see if they’d captured Travis, but not yet.  She needed to wait a little longer.  She tipped her head.  There was a faint sound coming from somewhere behind her.  She strained to hear but couldn’t quite place the noise.  Since it wasn’t heading her way, she moved out on the branch.  Knowing the forest’s sounds and smells was as important as knowing the landscape.  She moved to the next tree, closer to the noise.  She should be able to recognize the sound soon.  She moved to the next tree and stopped.  Fighting.  She sniffed.  Death.  Blood.  Something was fighting for its life.

A scream of agony rent the air.  It was Jethro.  She raced from tree to tree toward the sound.  She shouldn’t.  He was her enemy.  But she moved faster.  She should leave him to his fate, but she couldn’t.  Everyone was right.  She was a fool.

CHAPTER 47:  JETHRO

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JETHRO CLOSED HIS EYES as he inhaled deeply.  Nothing but damp earth.  He was deep in the forest where the sun barely penetrated and the previous days of rain had left the earth moist and odiferous.  Trinity had been right in front of him before she’d vanished.  She couldn’t get away, not yet.  He should’ve taken her up on her deal and let the Producer go, but he’d been too cocky.  It’d been so easy to catch her.  He smirked.  His Guards wouldn’t agree with that.  They had to be furious that a young, female House Servant had beaten them all.

He inhaled again.  Still nothing.  He continued through the brush.  He’d pick up her scent eventually.  He stopped and sniffed, again nothing but musky, damp earth.  A tingle ran down his spine.  He knew that scent.  Cold Creepers.

Before he could draw his knife, something slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground.  He grunted, choking on a mouthful of dirt, as claws sank into his shoulder.  He rolled, pulling his arms from his backpack, leaving the creature clinging to the sack as he scrambled to his feet.

The Cold Creeper was fast but he was faster.  It snapped at his leg but he jumped aside and planted the heel of his boot in its face.  He kicked it again and again, blood and flesh coating his leg, as he pulled his knife from the sheath.  He had time for one more kick before...He spun almost tripping over his backpack as his knife slid into another Cold Creeper who lunged at him.  It screeched and disappeared into the weeds.

Three more crept from the bushes, eyeing him.

“Come on.  I don’t have all day.”  He grinned as he flung his backpack over his shoulder.  He had to find Trinity, but a quick battle would sooth his mood.

They moved toward him as one.  He stood his ground, looking for an opening as others slithered from the surrounding vegetation.  There were at least nine of them.  He backed up.  Three he could’ve handled, but nine...He could do it if they came at him one or two at a time but—he glanced behind him—he needed to find something to protect his back.  If he could make it to the large tree, he had a chance.

He continued moving backward as they closed ranks following him.  He hesitated.  Something was wrong.  These creatures should be surrounding him.  He glanced over his shoulder.  There was nothing behind him but the tree.  He ignored his instincts and continued moving until his foot stuck.  He jerked his leg but it wouldn’t move.  Neither of them.  He glanced down.  He was on grass and there was nothing holding onto his legs.  He tried to move again, but couldn’t.  The Creepers crept closer, moving to both sides of him.  Their eyes darted to the ground as they avoided the path he’d taken.  He looked down again.  The grass shimmered with dew or something thicker and sticky looking.  He grabbed his leg and tugged.  There was a slight shift but not enough to pull free.

A large Creeper darted forward, stretching out its neck and sinking its teeth into his thigh.  He screamed and jabbed at it with his knife but it was gone before his weapon could connect.  He put his weight on his other foot.  Another creature raced toward him from his good side, causing him to shift his weight to his injured leg and almost losing his balance.  The Creepers hissed as he righted himself.  They were trying to make him fall.

“It’s not over yet, my friends.”  He bent, watching to make sure none of them attacked.  A bite to the head or throat would be his end.  He unlaced his boots.  Traveling through the forest without shoes wouldn’t be fun, but it’d be better than dying.  He started to pull his foot from his shoe.

“Don’t do that.”  Trinity sat on a branch high up in the tree behind him.

“Little One.”  The words escaped his lips without thought.  She didn’t hate him.  She’d come back to save him.

“Don’t call me that.  Only my friends get to call me that.”  She held a rope in one hand and a spear in the other.  It was pointing at him.  “You need to move.”

“Promise you won’t impale me.”  His eyes darted to the weapon in her hand.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

He swallowed.  Okay.  She hated him, but she wasn’t going to kill him, unlike the Cold Creepers.  He pulled his foot from his shoe.

“Stop!  If you touch the Slugmug’s glue, you’ll be paralyzed.  Not forever, but long enough for the Creepers to get you.”

His eyes widened and he rested his foot on his boot.  “I’m not even going to ask what a Slugmug is, so is there any way to get...unglued?”  He jabbed his knife at a Creeper who got too close.

“Nope.  It has to dry on its own and that takes days.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have days.”  He stabbed at another Creeper.  “Or did you come back here to kill me yourself?”  He nodded at the spear in her hand.

“What?”  She glanced at the weapon.  “No, but I should leave you.”  She tossed one end of a rope toward him.  “Catch.”

He snatched it from the air.  She tied it around the tree, tightening until there was no excess.

“When you jump, make sure to avoid the glue.  It’ll seep through your socks.”

“And the Cold Creepers.  I really need to avoid them too.”  He pulled his other foot out of his shoe, and swayed.  His leg throbbed from the bite.  He needed to move fast because if he stumbled, he was dead.

“I’ll handle them.”  She flung a spear, barely missing his head and scattering the nearest two creatures.

“Hey!”  He glared at her, as he shifted his weight to his uninjured leg.  “You did that on purpose.”

She smirked down at him.  “I’d hurry.  They’re pretty hungry.”  She threw more spears, forcing the Cold Creepers back.

He took a deep breath.  It was now or never.  He jumped, grabbing as high on the rope as he could and tucking his legs up to his chest.  A Cold Creeper launched itself at him, clamping down on the rope with its teeth as its claws dug into his chest, sending him careening off course.  Another spear buzzed by his head, missing the Creeper.

“Watch it!”  He yelled as he hit the ground, praying he’d missed the glue.  The Creeper fell onto the grass, having chewed through the rope, and raced toward him.  He fumbled for his knife as he kicked at it.  Pain raced through his body as the Creeper bit down on his foot, shaking its head.  He unsheathed his knife but before he could sink it into the creature’s skull it screeched and let go of him as it ran into the brush, a spear sticking from its side.

“Hurry!  Get up here.”  She threw more spears.

The good news was he’d landed out of the Slugmug’s glue.  The bad news was that since he wasn’t in the glue the Creepers were charging.  He limped to the tree, flinching as spears fell all around him.  They were usually accompanied by a squeak or squeal.  She had great aim.

“I can’t reach the branch.”  He tried to jump but with his hurt foot and leg, it was impossible.

She launched a handful of spears and leaned down, wrapping her legs around the branch and extended her hand to him.  He grabbed ahold and with her help, climbed into the tree.

“Thank you.”  He smiled at her.  He hadn’t expected her to come back.

“Go farther up, out of sight,” she ordered.

His smile faded at her command although he wasn’t sure why.  All the females in his life ordered him about.  He should be used to it.

“Are you deaf?”  She shoved him.  “Move or do you want to die?”

“I’m going.”  He climbed upward until he couldn’t safely go to another branch.

She followed after a few moments and they sat watching the forest below them.  More Cold Creepers had wandered out of the brush.  There were over two dozen of them.  Some were feasting on their dead companions and others wandered under the tree, sniffing.  A couple of the smaller ones started to climb, their long claws sinking into the bark like a knife through bread.

“Shit, they can climb?”  They were dead if the big ones made it up here.  “Give me some spears.”  He’d use his knife if he had to but spears he could throw.

“You’re fine.  Only the littler ones can make it up here.  Those are too big but they don’t know it yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”  The ones climbing had to be about five foot long.  That wasn’t little.

“Watch.”  After a few feet the Cold Creepers fell to the ground and scurried away before one of the others thought it was hurt and therefore a ready meal.  “They get too heavy or too disproportionate to climb.”  She shrugged.  “It seems that once they start traveling with the big ones, they can’t climb anymore.  The little ones climb to hide from the larger ones.”  She pointed to the dead Creepers.  “They’re cannibals as you can see.”

He didn’t care about the Creepers cannibalistic tendencies.  He couldn’t take his eyes from her.  She was gorgeous, even more so than when she’d been a teenager.  His eyes raked over her body.  It was long and lean and supple, he shook his head.  She wasn’t for him.  Even if he wanted her more than any other female, she’d never forgive him for what he was going to do.  “Why did you save me?”

“I don’t know.”  She turned to face him, frowning.  “I guess, I am a fool.”

He leaned a little closer.  He couldn’t help it.  He wanted to touch her and since he couldn’t do that, he’d get as close as she’d let him.  “I don’t think you’re a fool.”

“You wouldn’t, but everyone else will.”  She leaned against a branch.  “Believe it or not, I pride myself on not making the same mistake twice.”

“Well, thank you for making me your exception.”  He’d forgotten that she could be funny.

She nodded, acknowledging his gratitude.  “So, how does this work?”

His eyes met hers.  They were more stunning than in his dreams.  “That’s a bit of a problem.  I can’t let you go.”

“Like you can stop me.”  She turned to look at the Cold Creepers.

“I can’t wait to try.”  The chase and the attack had made his blood hum.  Too bad she wasn’t a bit more receptive.  He’d love to spend hours getting to know her better—the two of them alone in the forest where they both belonged.

“As soon as they’re gone, you’ll get your wish,” she said.

“That’s not my wish.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking his view.  He raised his eyes slowly until they met hers and then he grinned.  He didn’t care if she knew he wanted her.  His desire for her had been a constant since the day she’d pulled him from the Lake of Sins and he was tired of fighting it, if only Mirra didn’t stand between them.

“Don’t think that because I saved your life, I care what you want.  You’re my enemy.”

It was true.  Life had put them on opposite sides but the word still stung.  “We were friends once.”  His voice was barely a whisper but she heard him.

“Were we?  I thought so at one time, before you ignored me, before you realized I was a Producer.”

“That’s not fair.  I knew what you were before you and Viola switched places.”  She could blame him for a lot of things and they’d be true, but not that.  “Your class made no difference to me.”

“Do you still eat meat?”

He didn’t answer.  It would annihilate any chance he had with her, not that he had much of one, but maybe they could be together for a while, until she figured out that he wanted Mirra captured and killed.

“You know what?  You’re right.  My being a Producer didn’t make any difference to you at all, or, as I thought, we were never really friends.”

She had him neatly trapped.  He looked down at the Cold Creepers, unable to stand the hurt in her eyes.  “How long do you think they’ll stick around?”

“Several hours.  They’ll eat and nap and then eat again, until all the meat is gone.”

He dug in his backpack and pulled out a couple of sandwiches and water.  He offered her one of each.  “The sandwich is a bit smashed from the Creeper landing on me, but it’ll still taste good.”

She ignored him.

“Peanut butter and jelly.”  He leaned forward and placed the items on her lap, his fingers brushing her leg above her knee.  He wanted to let his hand rest there for a moment, but her eyes weren’t friendly so he let it seem accidental.  He opened his sandwich and began eating.  After a few moments she did the same.

He studied her covertly while they ate.  She’d grown up.  Of course, so had he, but she was exquisite.  It was a shame he had to capture Mirra, but it wasn’t like the two of them could have a real relationship.  She was from another class and he did want children someday.  She might be open to something less permanent.  The other classes, especially House Servants, weren’t known for their long-term relationships and it might be the only way he could get her out of his system.  “So, do you...”

He didn’t want to know if she had a boyfriend.  The idea of someone else touching her made him want to smash his fist into the other male's skull, but he did need to know if she’d ever had a mate because if she’d enjoyed mating, it’d be easier to persuade her to take a chance with him.  His eyes raked over her body.  She had to have some experience.  A female who looked like she did wouldn’t be alone long, but if he came right out and asked her if she’d ever had sex, he was pretty sure she’d push him from the tree.

“Do I what?”  She tossed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and washed it down with a long swallow of water.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the movement of her throat as she drank.  He more than wanted her, he needed her.  He had to figure out some way to make her understand that they were meant to be together, at least for a while.  “Ah, do you want something else to eat?”  He dug in his backpack and pulled out a bag of chocolate chip cookies.  He’d started carrying them as soon as he’d decided to trap her.  She was supposed to be his bait but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be nice to her.  “I remembered that you really liked these.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“They’re not poisoned.”  He stuffed one into his mouth.  “Not as good as homemade, but better than nothing.”  He took another one.  “You’d better hurry.  I’ll eat them all.”

She snatched the bag from him.  He jumped a bit at her speed.  He’d never realized how fast she was.  She pulled one out and took a small bite, closing her eyes.  A look of sheer pleasure came over her face.  The breath caught in his chest and he fought to keep from reaching for her.  He wanted to be the one to put that look on her face, not some stupid cookie.  As she continued to eat, she opened her eyes, her lips curving in a slight smile.  He couldn’t take much more.  In another second he’d be kissing her and then he’d be dead on the ground.

“Are you”—he cleared his throat—“going to save me any?”

She glanced down at the two cookies that were left.  She took one and handed the bag back to him.  He let his fingers slide over hers.  She jerked her hand away, her eyes wide.  He fought a smile as he ate the last cookie.  Good.  She was as aware of him as he was of her.  He could work with that.  He relaxed against the tree.

“How have you been?” he asked.

She looked over at him, her eyes hard.  “Fine.  Better than fine.  Even though you’ll never believe it, I don’t need an Almighty to take care of me.  I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry you heard that.”

“But not sorry you said it.”

“I didn’t mean you.”  He looked into the forest.  She was different.  She’d always been different but he wasn’t sure how to explain himself without making her angrier.  He’d been raised to believe the other classes needed Almightys to rule them.  That was how their world was designed.  It’d always been that way.

“Right.  Everyone else in all the other classes needs Almighty guidance, but not me.  Do you even hear yourself?”

“I never thought of you like that.  Like one of the others.”  It was a lie.  The fact that she was a Servant and his anger had been the only things keeping him away from her for all these years.  It was wrong to want to be with her, but he was tired of fighting it.  If only the world would pause for a few days or weeks.  He could win her back and get her out of his system.

“Yeah, right.”  Her face was tense with hurt or anger, he wasn’t sure which.

“Look, we’re stuck here for a while.  Can’t we try and have a pleasant conversation?”  He smiled.  “I could tell you more stories.”

“I’ve heard enough of your lies.”  She stood.  “And, you’re stuck here, not me.”

“What?”

The Cold Creepers were still below, some chewing on the remains of their companions and the others napping.

“I can travel by tree.  Remember?”  She moved toward the end of a branch.

“Wait.”  He didn’t want her to go.  He had to keep her talking.  “Why did you stay this long?”

She shrugged.  “I figured I’d leave as soon as I smelled your Guards.”

“They’re not here yet.”

“You’re right, but I don’t want to be here.”

“I see.”  He had to think of something else to say.  “Why were you going to stay until the Guards arrived?  I’m safe up here, right?”

“You should be, but you keep getting in situations that are deadly and for some idiotic reason I keep saving you.  I figured I’d stick around to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.”

“I could still do something stupid.”  Maybe, he’d almost fall from the tree.  That might make her stay.

“Yeah, I suppose, but I don’t care anymore.”

“Ouch.”  He touched his chest in mock pain, but the truth was that her words had pierced him deep.

“Jethro, what happened to you?”  Her voice was soft.

This was not a topic he wanted to discuss, but if she were asking him questions, she wasn’t leaving.  “I grew up.  Sometimes in life we have to do things we don’t want to do.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to fight with the Protective Services?  That you don’t believe the other classes, including me, are less than Almightys?”

He leaned his head against the tree, shutting his eyes.  “I didn’t make the rules.”

“The rules need to change.  It’s not right the way your kind treat the rest of us.  You used to know that.”

“I was naïve.”  He opened his eyes and stared at her.  “Life is messy and hard.  You’ll understand one day.”

“You think I don’t realize that?  My life has been nothing but hard.  I’ve lost my siblings and so many others—Producers who I saved from your kind but couldn’t save from the forest.”  Her gold eyes shimmered with tears.  “And yet,”—she placed her hand over her chest—“in here where it matters, I know the difference between right and wrong and I’ll fight for right no matter how hard it is.  You used to be like that too.”

“It’s not as simple as right and wrong.”  He wanted to hold her, to stop her tears.  He wanted to be the boy he used to be but responsibility and reality got in his way.

“You’re wrong.  If you look hard enough, it is as simple as that.”

He stared into the forest.  She’d never forgive him for capturing Mirra.  “You should go.”

She sat back down.  He wanted to laugh.  Of course, she’d do the opposite of what he’d said.

“No.  I’ll wait for your Guards.”  She dug in her backpack and handed him some crushed herbs.  “Mix these with water and apply to your wounds.  They’ll help to fight infection.”

“Thanks.”  He hadn’t expected more kindness from her, but he should’ve.  She’d always been kind.  She couldn’t seem to help it.

She nodded and turned away from him, looking into the forest.  He watched her for a long time.  She was sad.  It was written in her face and posture.  He’d done that to her.  He wanted to move closer and hold her as a friend, but now wasn’t the time.  He’d hurt her too deeply.  He needed time alone with her.  As soon as the Cold Creepers left, he’d convince her to travel with him.  His Guards wouldn’t come looking for him for hours.  Their orders were to catch the Producer and keep him safe.  He was supposed to bring Trinity back, and he would...later.  Much, much later.

CHAPTER 48:  TRINITY

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TRINITY GLANCED AT JETHRO.  He was still sleeping which was good because he was safer up here.  She climbed down to a lower branch.  The Cold Creepers had scurried off into the bushes, leaving a bit of meat still on the carcasses.  That could mean only one thing.  There was something more dangerous nearby.  She inhaled, trying to catch the scent of the new threat, but all she could smell was death and the musky, earthy odor of the Creepers.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Shhh.”  She put her finger to her lips.  Almightys were such idiots in the forest.  “Something scared off the Cold Creepers.”

He climbed down by her, pulling out his knife.  “What?”  He inhaled deeply.

“Why’d you do that?  You’re an Almighty.  You can barely smell garlic when it’s under your nose.”

“Believe it or not, my sense of smell is pretty good.”  He inhaled again.  “All I can smell is the musky scent—”

“That’s the Cold Creepers.”

“I know that.”

“Shhh.  Are you trying to get us killed?”

He gave her a dirty look but stayed silent.

“We need to get out of here.”  Nothing moved and nothing made a sound.  There was definitely something around.  “Quick and quiet.”  She jumped to the ground and headed toward the forest.  She’d rather move from tree to tree but that’d be difficult with an Almighty and even though it was foolish, she couldn’t leave him.  They were no longer friends but she didn’t want him dead.

“Wait.”  He dropped from the tree.  “Help me get my boots.”  He leaned over the trail of Slugmug’s glue and grabbed a shoe.

“We don’t have time.”

“I can’t run through the forest without shoes.”  He tugged.  “Help me.”

She hesitated, glancing into the brush before grabbing a leg bone from one of the Creeper carcasses.  She poked at the bottom of his boot, getting a wedge under it.  “Pull.”

“I am pulling.”

“Pull harder.”

He glared at her as he yanked and she pushed forward with the bone, prying the boot loose.  It shifted and he fell backward.

“Hurry up.”  She glanced around.  Still nothing, but the silence of the forest screamed danger.

He shoved his foot in his boot and grabbed the other one.  “Whenever you’re ready.”

She tugged but the bone was stuck in the glue.  She snatched another bone from the carcass, shaking off a hunk of flesh and wiggled it under his boot.  “Now.”

He pulled, but it didn’t budge.  “Get the bone under there more.”

“I’m trying.”  Sweat trickled down her cheeks, from the effort or fear, she wasn’t sure.  She jabbed and the bone slid between the boot and the sole.  “Try now.”

He tugged and the shoe tore free from its heel.  He stumbled backward but didn’t fall this time.  He glanced at the destroyed boot and then at her, his brow raised.

“Better than nothing,” she said.

He gave her an exasperated look before putting it on and limping toward her.

“Follow me and try to be quiet.”  If whatever scared off the Creepers was hungry, they were in trouble.  Almightys couldn’t navigate the forest quietly.  Hugh had gotten better at it but he was still too loud.  The thought of him caused her stomach to twist in anger and regret.  It was too soon for him to have realized she’d disobeyed his orders.  More than likely he was oblivious, thinking about his lab and how he’d tricked her.  He was probably patting himself on the back and celebrating.  Her heart skipped a beat.  He’d be alone with Meesus and her Servants for days.  The other female had propositioned him once.  She’d have plenty of time to do it again.  A surge of jealousy thrummed through her and she forced it aside.  He’d lied to her.  Even though he hadn’t actually said the words, a lie of omission was just as bad.

“Listen.”  Jethro touched her arm, stopping her thoughts.

There was no sound.  No birds.  No squirrels.  Nothing.  She glanced at him.  Not even his clumsy footsteps.  He moved quietly for an Almighty.  She’d only been around Hugh and Kim.  Perhaps, she’d misjudged all Almightys on their inabilities.

“It’s too quiet,” he said.  “Whatever was back there is still following us.”

She nodded, impressed with his survival skills.

He grabbed her hand and headed toward the river.  She wasn’t sure why, but she let him lead her.

He stopped at the shoreline.  “We need to get across.  Most predators won’t cross the water.”

“That’s because of the River-Men.”  She was the expert in the forest, not him.  “We’d be dead before we made it to the other side and don’t argue with me about their existence.”

“Not if we build a raft.”  He grinned.  “We have some experience in that, if you remember.”

His smile accompanied with that memory sent her hurtling back to their few days together.  It’d been the most fun she’d ever had.  He’d been cute and funny and kind.  It’d be easy to hide in those moments, but it’d be dangerous.  Even more dangerous than whatever hunted them.  She pushed the memories into the past where they belonged.  He’d set a trap to catch Travis and the other Producers.  He was her enemy now.  She wouldn’t forget that, couldn’t forget that, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t join forces and work together to escape this current threat.  “Okay, but let’s see if you can make it last the entire trip this time.”

He laughed and headed toward the forest.  “That was entirely your fault.  If you’d let me cut the rope the raft would’ve stayed together.”

“You can cut the rope this time.  I don’t need it to sleep in the trees anymore.”  She could mention that he was once again blaming her but she was tired of fighting with him.

“I wondered why that rope was so important.”  He bent down and lifted a large log.  The muscles in his arms bunched as he straightened, tossing it over his shoulders.

Her eyes raked over his body as he headed toward the river.  His arms and chest were well defined.  He’d grown into a very attractive, adult male.  He dropped the log and she hurried over to a large, tree branch before he could catch her staring.  She was not attracted to him.  She just appreciated a nice male form like any healthy female.  She grabbed the branch and pulled it toward the river, passing him on his way back to the forest.  She dropped the branch and turned.

“Jethro, stop.”

A Tracker sat in a tree almost concealed by the leaves.  In another few steps he’d be right under it.

“We need more wood.  I saw another big branch over here.”

“Come back here.  Slowly.”  She pulled a spear from her quiver.  She’d never throw it that far.  She should’ve practiced more with the bow and arrow like Hugh had suggested.

“How close is it?”  He moved toward her, slow and steady.

“Close.  We had to have walked under it the last time.”  She should’ve known it was there.  Mirra would kill her.  If this Tracker didn’t do it first.

He stopped next to her, turning and staring into the brush.  “What is it?”

“Tracker.”  She lowered her spear and used her finger to point at it, aiming the spear might give it a reason to attack.

“A friend of yours?”  His voice was tight.

“No.  I haven’t seen that one in years.”  She glanced at him.  He had no reason to be angry.  She’d probably saved his life once again.  “Not since I freed it from your dad’s camp.”

“Leave my father out of this.”

“Yeah, sure.  I wouldn’t want to say anything that might make you believe the truth.”

He shot her a glare.  “We need more wood.”

“I think we’re going to have to make do with what we have.”  The Tracker was watching them closely.  It probably wasn’t hungry or they’d be dead, but sometimes Trackers killed for fun.

“Our legs will be in the water.  Won’t the River-Men attack?” he asked.

“I don’t think we have a choice.”  Her eyes met his and under his fear was a glimmer of excitement.

“Let’s give it a shot.  Give me your rope.”  He pulled a rope from his backpack.

“You need two?”  She handed him hers.

“Better secure than not, if you recall.”  He cut the ropes and began tying the segments around the two pieces of wood.

The Tracker had stretched out on the branch and was half-dozing.  She hoped that was a good sign.  She glanced at Jethro.  He was almost done.  This was so similar and yet so different from that day at the Lake of Sins.  The boy was gone, replaced by a man, a stranger who was strong and capable.  The boy had held her close the Night of the Trackers and even though he’d been angry, she’d felt safe with him.  The man was working for the wrong side, but deep down she trusted him.  She needed to use this time together to convince him that he was wrong, to get him to fight with her and to accept her for who she was.  Not that it meant there was anything but friendship between them.  Even though Hugh had betrayed her, she missed him and wanted to be with him.  A whisper of sound made her turn.  The Tracker had left the tree and was prowling on all fours through the brush toward them.

“You’d better hurry.”

He glanced over his shoulder and straightened.  “Ready as we’re going to be.”  He lifted the raft.  “You keep an eye on the Tracker while I get this to the water.”  He moved toward the river.  “Stay by me though.”

They’d never win in a fight with the Tracker, but if it’d wanted to attack, it could’ve done it already.  Instead, it’d followed them.  Something moved in one of the nearby trees.  “Oh, no.”

Say sat high in the branches, staring down at them.

“What is it?”  Jethro dropped the raft and spun around, knife out.

Say stared at her for a moment and then moved from tree to tree farther into the dense brush of the forest.  She searched but couldn’t find him.  She needed to give him time to disappear.  “I thought I saw something.”  The Tracker was still prowling toward them but they had a few minutes.

“What’s out there?”  He scanned the area, head tipped back sniffing.

The Tracker moved closer, in no hurry.  It looked different than the others.  Its body had changed.  His back legs were shorter and more muscular and its back was straight as it prowled on all fours.

“We need to go.  By the looks of it, that thing can move fast.”  Jethro picked up the raft.

Hopefully, they’d stalled long enough for Say to make it safely away from here, but there was nothing more she could do.  The Tracker was getting too close for them to delay any longer.

“Come on.”  Jethro hadn’t moved.

She nodded and followed him to the water.  He shoved the raft into the river and took her hand, helping her onto the logs.  She straddled the raft, the icy water numbing her calves.  He climbed on behind her, the warmth of his body, seeping into her back.  He’d broken off two sections of the branch she’d found and was using them as oars.

They were moving fast, letting the current do most of the work.  The Tracker trotted after them along the shore.

“He won’t be able to keep up for long,” said Jethro.  “He’ll grow tired or bored soon.”

Bored maybe, but tired...She wasn’t so sure about that.  Mirra could run for hours and barely be breathing heavy, but she wasn’t giving him any information about the Trackers.  He hated them, especially Mirra.

“Let me help.”  She reached for one of the sticks.  He’d grow tired before the Tracker.  He was an Almighty.

“You keep an eye on the Tracker.  I got this.”

She tugged on the stick but he refused to let go.  “You’re going to wear yourself out.”  She had no idea how long they’d be stuck following the river and when they did go to shore she’d have to lead him back toward the Producer Camp.  She knew her way around the forest but he didn’t and she couldn’t leave him on his own.  She should, but she couldn’t.

“I’ll be fine.”  He grinned.  “Trust me.”

She shook her head.  Males could be so stubborn and stupid.  She glanced over her shoulder, watching the Tracker.  It continued to follow them, not seeming to tire.  After a while it stopped.  Its eyes meeting hers for a long moment before it wandered toward the forest, no longer interested in them.

“I think we lost him.”  This was great.  They could stay on the river for another mile or so.  They’d have to cut through some thick brush but they weren’t that far from the Producer Camp.

“We’ve got a bigger issue than the Tracker.”

She glanced back at him.  Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to steer the raft.  She followed his gaze.  There was white water up ahead and the current was growing faster and stronger every second.  The recent rain must’ve strengthened the river.

“To the shore.”  She yanked an oar from his hands and paddled as hard as she could.

“Gee, I hadn’t thought of that.”

She ignored his comment, too focused on the danger ahead to bother with his attitude.  A few miles downstream was Lazaretto Falls.  They both used the sticks to try and steer the raft but the sticks weren’t wide enough.  The water tugged at her legs and she slipped to the side.  His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his body.

“Get your legs up,” he yelled right as the front of the raft hit a rock and bounced into another one.

“No, we need to get off this river before we get to the falls.”

“Too late.”  He grabbed her arm, stopping her struggles.

She froze as the white waters rushed all around them.  “This can’t be.  We’re nowhere near Lazaretto Falls.”

“We must be closer than you think.  The rain probably caused the river to run faster.”

“I know where we are.”  She pointed to the trees.  “I know the forest and we are not near Lazaretto Falls.  We’re not!”  This couldn’t be happening.  The falls were huge.  They’d never make it over them and live.

“I don’t care what you call it.  There is a waterfall right up ahead.”  His voice was strained as he struggled to fight the current and buy them some time.

“There are no other falls.”  Her words were hollow because he was right and so was she.

They hit another rock and the raft spun, slamming her leg against the stone.  Pain shot through the numbness but the icy water quickly dulled it to an ache.

“Get your legs out of the water,” he repeated as he grabbed her thighs, pulling upward.

She lifted her legs, placing them on the raft in front of her as she dug the oar into the water in one last effort to move them toward shore, but it was no use.  The water was moving too fast and the current was too strong.  There was no way to avoid this path.  They were going to ride a rickety raft through the white waters and over an unknown waterfall.

CHAPTER 49:  TRINITY

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TRINITY’S HEART TRIED TO climb up her throat as their raft raced toward the falls.

“Drop the oar.”  Jethro pulled his legs onto the raft, placing one on each side of her as he yanked on her quiver.  “These have to go.”

She forced her fingers to release the stick.  He was right.  Any objects in the water would become weapons.  She shifted, helping him remove her quiver from her shoulders.

“Backpack too.”  He tugged on the straps as the raft hit another rock.  He bent over her, shielding her with his body as they tipped to the side and yet, somehow managed to stay afloat.

As soon as the raft straightened, she pushed him away.  She appreciated the gesture, but she had to focus on surviving and that meant she needed to see.  “No.  I’m not losing my backpack.  We may need it.”  If we survive.

“It’ll add extra weight you don’t need.”  He slipped his arms from his own backpack, dropping it into the water.

“I’ll take it off if I have to.”  She wasn’t giving up her backpack.  It had everything she owned in it.  It had her drawings of Hugh.  Her body trembled as she realized that she may never see him again.

“You don’t have any of that brown bread in here do you?  You’ll sink like a rock.”

“No.”  She tried to smile at his joke but her lips wouldn’t obey.  Gaar was going to be so mad at her.  He’d never stop looking and that meant he’d never find a mate.  She’d ruined his life too.

“It’ll be okay.”  He touched her cheek.  “I’ll keep you safe.”

She swallowed.  She had a better chance of surviving this than he did, but, as selfish as it was, she was glad she wasn’t alone.  She looked over her shoulder at him.  “Thank you.”

He wrapped one of his arms around her waist, pulling her close.  She turned to face the water and her heart stilled.  The rocks were gone.  Up ahead were the falls.  She tightened her backpack on her shoulders, tying the bottom around her waist.  She looked up at him, not sure what to say.  These could be her last words.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day you pulled me from the Lake of Sins.”  He bent and kissed her.

She stiffened for a moment and then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.  This was Jethro.  They were probably going to die in a moment and she’d loved him forever.

His lips trailed from her mouth to her ear.  “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”  He tugged her close, surrounding her with his body, keeping her as safe as possible.

She rested her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, inhaling his scent before turning around.  She couldn’t protect herself and him if she buried her head.

“Hold on to me,” he yelled over the roaring of the water.

She clasped his arms to her chest, her claws digging into him as they went over the falls.  She wanted to shut her eyes, pretend this wasn’t happening but she couldn’t.  One minute there was water ahead of them and then nothing but sky.  The raft slipped from beneath her and icy water surrounded her.  Jethro’s arms were the only solid thing in her world as they fell.  She plunged into the water and it was like being slammed against a brick wall—a cold wall that buried her in its grasp.  Her teeth rattled at the impact as she submerged.  Her shoulder hit a rock and the water spun her around, her head connecting with something hard and solid.  Blackness threatened, but she struggled to stay conscious.  If she passed out, she was dead.  Jethro grabbed her arm, yanking her to the surface and she gasped for air as the freezing current tugged at her.  She grasped at his arms but the water was too strong, tearing her away.

She slipped under the waves and was dragged down river.  She fought to the surface, gasping for air and went under again and again.  She slammed into a rock, pain ricocheting through her side as the current dragged her downward, the water swirling and dark.  She tumbled over and over as if a River-Man held her in his grasp as he performed his death roll.  Suddenly, she was no longer spinning.  The water had twisted her up and spit her out.  She searched for light, but there was only darkness and cold.  Her lungs screamed for air, but she had no idea which way was up.  She had to choose a direction but the wrong choice meant death.  She swam hard searching for the surface, following her instincts and praying they wouldn’t betray her.  She had no idea how deep she was or how soon she should expect to see light, if she’d chosen the right path.

Something grabbed her ankle.  She kicked at it and swam faster but she was no match for whatever was chasing her.  It clasped onto her leg, pulling her backward.  She screamed, losing the little oxygen she had left, but she couldn’t help it.  This was her nightmare and her fate.  No matter how hard she’d fought she was going to end up dinner for something.  Her arms flailed, as blackness swarmed passed her eyes, like thousands of bees.  This was it.  No one would ever find her.  The River-Man grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close.  Instinctively, she reached for her knife but her fingers wouldn’t move and then the River-Man bent and kissed her, but it wasn’t a River-Man it was Hugh.  Somehow, he’d found her.  She had no idea how, but she wasn’t afraid anymore.  Dying in his arms wasn’t so bad.  He blew air into her lungs, giving her life as his arms tightened around her and he swam upward.

His grip was strong, holding her close as he flew though the water.  The air he’d breathed into her mouth had helped but she needed more and soon.  She squirmed and he paused, bending and kissing her again, but it wasn’t Hugh.  It was Jethro’s mouth covering hers and giving her more of his air.  A moment later he was swimming again, rushing them both to the surface.  They burst from the water, his arm loosening as they both gasped in air, sweet, sweet air.

“Th...thanks,” she said, teeth chattering.

“We n...need to get to sh...shore.”

He grabbed her around her chest.  She started to fight, to say she could take care of herself, but her arms were heavy and her legs were barely kicking enough to keep her head above water.  She leaned back, making it easier for him to drag her to land.

Jethro stopped swimming and she shifted in the water.  It was shallow enough to stand.  Her legs wobbled as he bent, lifting her in his arms.

“Put me down.  I can walk.”  She struggled but it was half-hearted because she was pretty sure she’d fall face first into the water if he actually did put her down.

Lucky for her, he ignored her and strode onto shore.  He stopped a few feet away from the river and gently placed her on the ground.  He dropped down next to her, his chest heaving.

She’d almost died.  If it hadn’t been for him she would’ve.  She’d picked the wrong way in the water.  Her instincts hadn’t failed her like that in years.  It wasn’t comforting and she didn’t like being in his debt.  Although, she’d saved his life twice, she still didn’t want to feel anything for him.  He’d tried to capture her and Travis.  He wasn’t her friend, but he’d saved her life.  She was confused and tired and she wanted to go home and talk to Hugh, but that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

He turned his head toward her and smiled.  “Wait.  I won’t hurt you.”  He leaned up on his elbow.  “My name’s Jethro, what’s yours?”

She laughed.  She couldn’t help it.  This was so similar and yet so different than that day at the Lake of Sins.  He shifted closer, leaning over her.  His eyes dropped to her lips and his smile faded.  He was going to kiss her again.  She should stop him, but he’d just saved her life and...she wanted to kiss him again.  She’d dreamt of kissing him for so long and the other times didn’t count.  Two of them hadn’t been real kisses; they’d been an exchange of oxygen and the other had been too quick.  Plus, all she’d been able to think about was going over the falls.

He moved closer.  She stared up at him.  His hair was wet but starting to curl around his face.  His eyes were a deep, dark blue and his body blocked the sky from her view.  All that existed was him and her.  He leaned closer, his lips meeting hers in a soft caress.  When she pushed up a little, encouraging him, he deepened the kiss, his body pressing down on hers, solid and real.  Her fingers trailed across his cheeks.  This was Jethro.  She was kissing Jethro.  After all these years and all her dreams, it was finally happening.  Her fingers went into his thick, wet hair, pulling him closer.  His hand drifted down her side, exploring her body.  She tensed.  This was Jethro not Hugh.  She couldn’t do this.  She turned away, breaking the kiss.

He didn’t move.  She could feel his eyes searching her face but she refused to look at him.  She was too confused.  She’d wanted him for so long and they’d both almost died but she cared about Hugh and Jethro was fighting for the other side.  He flopped back onto the ground next to her, grabbing her hand and holding it against his heart.  It beat strong and steady under her fingers.  A few months ago this was all she’d wanted but now, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

A few moments later, he stood, pulling her up with him.  “We should get moving.”  He kissed her hand before dropping it.  “Do you know where we are?”

“Yeah.”  She scanned the river and the brush.  “Ah, I think I do.  I mean...I know every place in the forest, or I thought I did.”  This was strange.  She had no idea where they were.  Nothing was familiar.  “Let’s move up the hill.”

She untied the backpack from around her waist.  That’d been the only thing keeping it on her.  She pulled the straps over her shoulders and started walking.  They climbed the hill in silence.  He didn’t seem to want to talk and that was fine.  She needed time to think anyway, her head was a mess of feelings and thoughts and regrets.  At the top, they stopped.  The area was still strange.

“Anything?” he asked.

“No, and I don’t understand.”  She turned toward him.  “I’ve been through this forest, this entire forest dozens of times with Gaar and Mirra.”

His jaw clenched at the mention of their names.  He still hated them, blamed them for his father’s death and that was understandable.  Mirra had killed his dad, but Benedictine had also been responsible for what’d happened that night.  According to Kim, Jethro refused to accept that.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he said.  “We should find somewhere to camp for the night.”

“The trees are the safest place.  How are you at sleeping up high?”

“Not good,” he said.

“That’s why you shouldn’t have cut both ropes.”  She started walking.

“If I hadn’t, the raft would’ve broken sooner and we would’ve been bashed against the rocks.”  He trailed after her.

“Maybe, maybe not.  We’ll never know.”

“Oh, I know.  We’d never have made it if I’d only used one rope.”

“You don’t know that.  You think that’s what would’ve happened.  You tend to do that a lot, don’t you?  Confuse what you think with facts.”

“Don’t start.  This isn’t about you and me or even the war.  This is about the raft, which held up at least until we went over the falls.  It may still be together.  We might find it, intact, on the bank somewhere.”

“My point is that we’ll never know if you needed both ropes.  There are some things you can’t know for sure, Jethro, but you don’t understand that.  For you it’s either wrong or right.  There is no in between and the world doesn’t work that way.”  She wanted to shake him.  He was so stubborn and frustrating.  He refused to see that his father’s actions had caused the attack of the Trackers and the beliefs he was raised with were wrong.

“That’s exactly how the world works.  There are laws we have to follow whether we believe in them or not.  They’re the structure that holds our society together.  Without them there’d be chaos,”—he stared at her, his eyes hard—“war and death.”

“The laws were made by Almightys centuries ago.  It doesn’t make them right.”  She stopped, glaring up at him.  “You truly believe what your kind does to my kind is right?  You believe we deserve to be deceived, slaughtered and eaten?”

“Give it up, Trinity.  You’re no more Producer than I am.”  He pushed past her.

“What do you mean by that?”  She caught up with him, grabbing his arm and stopping him.

“You can stop pretending.  I’ve seen your claws and fangs.  Remember?  When we first met, I’d never seen any Producers so I believed what you told me.”  He put his hands on her shoulders.  “I’m not mad at you for lying to me.  I understand.  You were raised to believe you were a Producer but Producers don’t have claws and fangs.”  His fingers ran over her cheekbones.  “And over the last few years, I’ve met a few of them and none of them are as beautiful as you.”

She’d wanted to hear those words from him for so long.  He lowered his head to kiss her again, but she stepped away.  This wasn’t the time for kisses.  This was the time to convince him that he was wrong.

“That’s exactly it.  I look different from them because I am different.”  She pointed at her face.  “I have teeth like Servants but my eyes are a mix of both classes—lighter than Producers but not the right color for Servants and...and my body...”  She flushed as his eyes roamed up and down her, lingering on her breasts.  “I’m too tall for a Servant but not as tall or as strong as Producers.”  She touched his face, forcing his eyes back to hers.  “Look at me.  Really look at me.  I’m a mix.”

“No, you’re not.  It’s not possible...”  He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips.  “You’ve been lied to.  You’re a Servant, but that’s okay.  I don’t care.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, I don’t care that you lied to me.”  He tugged on her hand until she was in his arms.  “And I don’t care that we’re from—“

“I didn’t lie to you.”  She pushed free from his hold.

“Stop.  Please.  We both know what you’re claiming isn’t possible.”

“What isn’t possible?”  A feeling of dread slithered through her blood like oil in water.  His words were going to hurt and she’d never be the same again.

“Interclass breeding.”  He stepped closer to her.  “But that makes interclass mating all that much better.”  His put his hands on her hips and pulled her flush against his body.  “We don’t have to worry about unwanted pregnancy.”

She shoved him and he stumbled backward.

“Ouch.”  He rubbed his chest.  “You didn’t have to scratch me.”

She hadn’t realized her claws were out, but she didn’t retract them.  He was unbelievable.  He didn’t believe anything she said. “It’s possible for two different classes to have offspring.  You’re looking at the second generation of one.”

“Really?  So what is your mother part Servant too?”  His tone was mocking.  “Is that the lie they told you?  Because the truth is your mother was pure House Servant just like your father.  I don’t know why or how you ended up at the Producer Camp, but somehow you did.  I’d love to talk to your father and mo...the woman who raised you.  They have a lot of questions to answer.”

“You’re such a stubborn fool.”  She poked him in the chest.  “My mother is Producer, full-blooded.  My father, however, is half Almighty.  How’s that for we don’t have to worry about pregnancy.”  She hit him again and he grabbed her wrist.

“That’s not possible.”

“Hugh proved it or haven’t you been paying attention.”  She jerked, trying to free her hand from his grasp but he only pulled her closer.

“He’s a liar.”

“He is not.”  She almost hissed.  He could say what he wanted about her but he needed to leave Hugh out of this.

“I understand why all of you want to believe him.  He’s charming and—”

“All of us?  You mean all of us lower beings?”  This time she managed to free herself from him and she stumbled backward.

“I didn’t say that.  You did.”

A tremor ran through her body.  Pain or anger she wasn’t sure which.  He stepped closer and she backed away from him.

“Little One, don’t do this.  I don’t think of you like that.”  He continued toward her.

“I told you not to call me that.”  It was an endearment and she couldn’t let him use it.  It wore at her defenses.  “You think I’m a fool who doesn’t know what she is and”—her voice cracked—“someone who is good enough to mate with but not good enough to be your mate.  Not good enough to carry your offspring.”  She couldn’t let him touch her.  She was too fragile now.  The last of her childish dreams had been shattered and the pieces would never go back together the same way.  A part of her would always be broken, changed.  Her back hit something solid and she spun around, moving aside the bushes.

“Harbor Point,” she whispered as she glanced over her shoulder and then back at the wall.  “This can’t be.”

He stopped behind her.  “You’re not a fool and—”

She turned, facing him as her heart slammed against her chest.  “We’re on the wrong side of Harbor Point.”

CHAPTER 50:  TRINITY

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“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING about?”  Jethro dropped his hands from Trinity’s shoulders, an edge of wariness in his voice.

“Harbor Point.”  Trinity pointed at the wall.  “We’re on the other side.”  This wasn’t possible.  She turned around again, her fingers running over the stone.  She wasn’t wrong.  This was Harbor Point.

“Are you sure.”

“The sun always sets behind Harbor Point.”  Her words were flat, her body numb.  “No one, not even Gaar and Mirra have ever been on this side.”  She stared up.  The vegetation covering the rock wall stretched for miles before disappearing and leaving only sheer stone.  “They’ve climbed it before but they never came down.  It was too steep even for them.”

“You didn’t know about this waterfall?”  He turned and stared at the river.

“No.  Gaar would’ve told me.  I wouldn’t have gotten on the raft if we were that close to the falls.  I’m not an idiot.”

“When we were on the river,”—he turned back toward her—“while you were watching the Tracker, I steered us away from some large boulders.  I think the river split around there.”

“The river doesn’t split, not in that area.”  Her voice was getting shrill, panicked.  She took a deep breath.  “I know the forest—”

“Rivers change all the time.”  He turned and pointed to the falls.  “The rain must’ve made the river rise and it dislocated rocks or wore through boulders, creating an opening to the other side of Harbor Point.”

“How will we get back?”  Dread like she’d never known settled in her gut.

His blue eyes were wide as he stared up at the wall.  “Let’s worry about that tomorrow.”  He took her hand.  “Right now, we need to get dry and find somewhere safe to sleep.”

She nodded and let him lead her along the wall.  His hand was the only source of warmth in the world right now.  She was wet and cold and her soul was frozen.  She was trapped.  Even Mirra couldn’t track her over here.  She’d never see Mirra’s babies.  She’d never see Gaar, her parents or Jackson again.  Her breath hitched in her throat.  She’d never see Hugh again.  She’d never kiss him again or discover if they were meant to be together.  He’d wonder what had happened to her.  He’d blame himself.  Her chest tightened and she gasped for breath.

Jethro stopped, turning around.  As soon as he saw her face he pulled her into his arms.  “It’ll be okay.  I promise.”  He spoke against her head, his hands rubbing along her spine, soothing her fears.  “You need to get warm and rest.  Everything will be better in the morning.”  He moved back a little, leaving his hands on her shoulders.  “Wait here.  I’m going to search this cave.”

This section of the wall was built on top of a natural rock formation, making it even taller and more dangerous.  The top was sleek and steep, the bottom, riddled with boulders.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him.  She couldn’t fall apart.  It’d do neither of them any good.  He was right.  They needed to sleep and rethink this in the morning. “I should do it.” At his frown, she added, “I can see in the dark.”

“You’re not going in there alone.”

She wanted to argue that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.  She’d saved him twice, but right now, she didn’t feel capable.  She felt hollow.  She nodded as she pulled her knife and entered the cave.  He was so close behind her that his chest brushed against her back with every step.  She should elbow him in the gut so he’d give her some space, but she couldn’t find the energy.  She was trapped in a new world with a stranger who looked like the boy she’d once loved.

The cave was cool and dark.  She took a deep breath.  She had to focus or they’d end up dead.  She inhaled again, trying to catch any odor that might warn of danger.

He sniffed.  “What do you smell?  I don’t smell anything dangerous.”

She sent him a glare over her shoulder.  “You’re an Almighty.  You wouldn’t smell a Cold Creeper until it was biting you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Please.”  She snorted her disbelief as she moved farther into the cave.  It was dry and clean, the walls smooth and cool to the touch.  She peered into a long, dark crevice but there was nothing lurking inside.  There were a few boulders scattered about but nothing hiding behind them.  The small cave was empty.  “We’re good.”  She sat down, leaning against the wall.

“I’m going to gather a few sticks.  We can start a fire.”

“No,” she said.  “The light will attract predators.  We don’t know what lives over here.”  She had no idea about anything on this side of Harbor Point, even him.  He’d set a trap to capture her kind so he could kill and eat them.  He’d admitted he thought she was a liar and that although he was attracted to her, he could never consider her mate material.  She swallowed, fighting back the tears.  That should be enough for her to hate him, but she didn’t.  A small, stupid part of her still loved him, or at least the boy he’d once been.  A tremor ran through her, from the cold or her situation, she wasn’t sure.

“We’ll figure this out tomorrow.  I promise.”  He sat down next to her and started to put his arm around her.

“Don’t touch me.”  She scooted away.

“What?  I didn’t mean...I was only going to hold you.  Nothing else.”

“You made it perfectly clear how you feel about me.”  She hadn’t moved because she’d been afraid he’d kiss her or try to mate with her.  That she could handle.  That she wouldn’t allow, but if he touched her in kindness, in comfort, she’d break.  She couldn’t let that happen.  She had to stay strong or she’d never make it out of here.

“Little One—”

“I told you not to call me that.  Only—”

“Yeah, I remember.  Only your friends are allowed to call you that.”  He was angry now and that was easier to deal with than his hurt.

“Exactly.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek.  “I think we should get some sleep.  We’re both exhausted.  Everything will be better in the morning.”

He was right, but she didn’t want to rest.  If she rested, she’d think and if she thought she’d cry.  This situation was hopeless.  They couldn’t swim up the falls.  They couldn’t climb the rock.  They were stuck and she didn’t want to be stuck over here with him.  “This is your fault.”

“My fault?  How is this my fault?  You could’ve left me at any time.”

That was true and it made her angrier.  “You set a trap for us.”

“No, I set a trap for you.”  His mouth snapped shut so quickly that the clanking of his teeth reverberated through the empty cave.

“What?”

“Nothing.  Forget it.”  He shifted to lie down as she stood.  “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.”  And she was.  The pain was like a blow to the chest but she was going to leave him here to die.  “You set a trap for me.”  Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.  “You were going to turn me over to the authorities.”

“No.”  He jumped to his feet, grabbing her hand.  “I’d never hurt you or let anyone else hurt you.”  His eyes met hers.  “I swear.  You have to believe me.”

“Then why did you set a trap for me.”  She stepped away from him.  She didn’t want him touching her.

He took a deep breath.  “I...I knew you’d been at the camp before.  That day the younger ones escaped, you were there.”

“How...how did you know?”  She’d wondered if he’d seen her, but that was impossible for an Almighty.

“I told you my sense of smell is very good.”  He turned away, staring into the darkness.  “I wanted to talk to you.  Ever since that night at my house, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”  He turned back toward her.  “I think about you all the time.  I dream about you.  Shit.”  He leaned his head against the wall of the cave.  “I even try and find other females who remind me of you.”

“You do?”  That wasn’t a compliment, but somehow it felt like one.

“Yeah.”  He looked at her again.  “So, I set a trap.  It was the only way I could think of to talk to you.”

“You weren’t going to turn me over?”

“Never.”

She eyed him warily.  This all sounded too good to be true and she had a rule about that.  “What about Travis?  Why’d you send your Guards after him?”

“I wanted to be alone with you.  I swear.  I was never going to turn either of you over to the authorities.”

“I...I don’t know if I believe you.  You said you were taking me back to camp.”

“I was.”  He looked her straight in the eyes.  “I wasn’t going to let you go until we talked.”

“You were going to keep me prisoner.”  She almost spat the words.  She’d never be a prisoner again.

“It wasn’t going to be like that.  Once we talked, I would’ve let you go.”  He started to reach for her but stopped at her glare.  “Say something, please.  I...I swear I’d never hurt you.  I couldn’t.”  He took a step in her direction.  “I don’t understand any of this myself.  I shouldn’t feel like I do about you.  I tried to stop, but I can’t.”  He paused.  “Please say something.  Tell me you don’t hate me.  Please.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of his confession.  He liked her.  It was all she’d ever wanted, but she didn’t know if she wanted it any longer.  She wasn’t sure about anything right now, so she said the only thing she did know.  “I don’t want to be anyone’s prisoner.”

He studied her for a long moment and said, “Okay.  Promise we can talk about...things and I’ll promise to never force you to stay with me.”

“You should promise that anyway,” she said.  Hugh would never force her to do anything.  He’d made that perfectly clear.  No, instead, he’d trick her with kisses.  It wasn’t much different.

“I should, but I can’t.  I need...I need you.”  His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

Part of her wanted to pull him close and wipe the sadness and worry from his face but another part warned her to be careful.  He’d hurt her before and there was Hugh to consider.  She was mad at Hugh, furious with him, but it didn’t mean she didn’t like him.  “Jethro, I...I can’t—”

“I don’t mean like that.  I need you as a friend.  We were friends once can’t we try again?”

She was tired.  Tired of fighting.  Tired of loving and being hurt.  Tired of being alone.  She leaned against the wall and shivered as the rock pushed her wet clothes against her body.

“You’re cold.”  He took her hand.  “Litt...Trinity, trust me, please.  I don’t want you to get sick.”  He pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms.

She struggled.  She wasn’t ready to be this close to him.

“Stop it,” he said.  “You need to get warm.”  He tipped his head to meet her eyes.  “Let me do this for you.”

He was warm, very warm and his heat felt good, soaking into her chilled bones.  “Why are you so hot?  You should be freezing too.”

“I run hot.”  He lifted her and sat, placing her on his lap.

“Hey!”  This was way too close.

“Relax.”  He coaxed her head to his shoulder.  “You trusted me enough to let me hold you while you slept once, can’t you trust me again?”

She sat up, surprised he remembered.  “I...I don’t know.”

“Try.  For tonight.”  He pulled her to his chest.  “You can hate me again tomorrow.”  His words were a whisper across her ear.

This time she didn’t move.  He was so warm.  His heart thudded next to her ear, a comforting sound that coaxed her to relax.  She was tired, but she couldn’t sleep.  This was Jethro.  She was sitting on his lap, in his arms.  She’d wanted this for so long, but he’d hurt her so much.  She was confused and all she wanted was to talk to Hugh, but he wouldn’t understand this.  This would hurt him and she didn’t want to hurt him.

CHAPTER 51:  JETHRO

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JETHRO STOOD AT THE entrance to the cave.  Trinity was still sleeping which gave him time to think.  His life had just gotten a lot more complicated.  He needed the money, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle her hating him and she would if he used her as bait to capture Mirra.

He stepped outside.  It was beautiful here.  The forest was wild and untamed, the air crisp and clean.  Birds flew from tree to tree.  Too bad they couldn’t stay on the other side of Harbor Point.  Alone.  Just the two of them.  They’d be happy.  He’d make sure she was happy.  A soft sigh made him turn around.  She had her arms over her head in a stretch, eyes closed.  His gaze lingered a moment on her chest and slowly moved up to her face.

She opened her eyes and they widened a bit in surprise when she saw him.  “Good morning.”

“Morning.”  It came out more of a grunt.  She looked amazing, soft and warm, rumpled and approachable.  If he didn’t look away, he’d go back inside and kiss her.  Then, he’d get clawed...unless, she wasn’t as angry with him after a good night’s sleep.  She’d kissed him on shore.  Her response had made him move too fast, but he’d wanted her forever, dreamt about her forever.  He should’ve never ignored her all those years, but he couldn’t undo the past.  So, he’d move slowly.  Prove to her that she could trust him.  Make her realize she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“You sound like Gaar.”  Her lips twitched in amusement.  “I take it you’re not a morning person.”

“I do not sound like Gaar.”  He didn’t want her to compare him to the gray, hairy Handler.  Gaar was her friend.  He wanted to be more than that.

“Then don’t grunt at me.”  She sat up and dug in her backpack, pulling out two apples and some other items.  She opened a package and laughed a little.

The sound drew him like a bee to sugar.  He squatted down by her.  “What’s so funny?”

She held out the package.  It was bread, or had been.  Now, it was mush.  “Too bad this hadn’t been Gaar’s bread.  It’d actually be moist enough to eat.”

“Yeah, but you would’ve sunk from the weight.”

“True.”  She laughed and her eyes met his.

He couldn’t help it.  He had to kiss her.  Going slow had been a good plan when he’d been across the cave, but now that he was close and could smell the sleepy warmth of her skin, it was the stupidest idea he’d ever had.  He leaned forward and she turned away from him.  His lips curled in a smirk.  She’d have to do better than that to stop him.  He had no problem starting with her cheek or the side of her jaw.  He’d kiss his way to her lips and enjoy every minute.

“Here.”  She shoved an apple in his face, almost knocking him over, as she jumped to her feet and hurried to the entrance of the cave.

“Trinity, we need to talk.”  He wasn’t going to be waylaid by a piece of fruit.

“I need to gather some herbs to clean your wounds.”  She stumbled outside and stopped.  “Look,” she whispered.

He moved behind her and followed her gaze.  The Tracker roamed the woods near the water, sniffing around the rocks on the bank.

“That’s the same one who was following us yesterday,” she said.  “There has to be a way through Harbor Point to the other side.”

“Are you sure?  It could be a different one.”  He prayed she was wrong.  Staying here would be easy.

“I’m positive.”  She looked at him, barely containing her excitement.  “Trackers don’t like water, so there has to be an opening in the wall.”

“An opening in the wall?  You mean like a cave or tunnel?  No.  That Tracker didn’t crawl through the rock and over here that fast.  It’d take at least a day to get through Harbor Point.”

“It’s possible.”  She almost vibrated with excitement.  “We traveled on the river for several miles.  Harbor Point is wide where we got on the raft, but it narrows as you get closer to Lazaretto Falls.  The Tracker had to come through the rock.  It’s the only way.  The tunnel has to be around here somewhere.”

“We’ll look as soon as it’s gone.”  He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.  If they found a way back he’d have to make a decision that he wasn’t ready to make.

“I’ll grab my backpack.”  She slipped around him into the cave.

He glared at her over his shoulder.  She didn’t have to be in such a hurry to leave.  His company wasn’t that bad.  He shoved aside his irritation.  He’d set a trap for her and they’d done nothing but argue.  And kiss.  He couldn’t forget that.  He’d never forget that.  As she stuffed her somewhat dry items into her backpack, he turned back toward the forest.

The Tracker poked around in the bushes.  Harbor Point stretched from coast to coast.  It could take them days or weeks, or maybe even months, to find a way to the other side.  His mood improved.  She was still attracted to him.  He’d seen it in her eyes and had felt it in her kiss.  All he needed was time alone with her and searching for a tunnel to the other side would be perfect.  They’d have to work together and she’d learn to trust him again.  Once she trusted him, everything else would fall into place.

She came outside and stood by him.  “Here.”  She held out the paper full of the wet bread.  “We should save our apples.  The bread will mold.  We don’t have time to let it dry.”  She stuffed some of the mush in her mouth and shivered as she swallowed.  “Yum.  Delicious.”  She tried to hide her grimace.

“I’ll pass.”  He handed her the apple.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“At least eat the fruit.  You can’t go without eating.”

“I’ll find something.”  He opened her backpack and dropped the apple inside.  “But, I swear, I’ll never be hungry enough to eat cold, wet, mushy bread.”  He shot a disgusted look at the mess.

“Don’t whine to me when your stomach’s growling.”  She stuffed more in her mouth.

“I won’t whine to you ever.”  He gave her a slight grin.  “I might beg you, but I’ll never whine.”  He leaned down.  It wasn’t a great moment to attempt a kiss, but he had no idea how much time he had.

“Don’t.  Okay.”  She shifted away.

“Why?”

“I...we...you don’t like me.  Not really.”

“What?”  He moved closer.  “That is the exact opposite of the truth.  I like you too much.  I can’t stop.  I’ve tried, but it doesn’t do any good.”

“You’re attracted to me.”  She took a step back, her face paling.  “You want to mate with me, but you don’t like me.  You can’t.  You blame me for your father’s death.”

Leave it to her to get right to the point.  “No, Little One, I don’t.  I never did.”  He leaned against the rock wall and watched the Tracker as it continued to poke around the river.  This wasn’t easy to admit, but he had to tell her the truth or she’d never trust him and if she didn’t trust him she’d never let him touch her and he needed to touch her more than he needed his pride.  “I was a fool.  You never would’ve brought the Trackers to my home.  I knew it even then, but I was angry.”

“Yeah, at me.”

“No.”  He glanced at her, not wanting to say the words, to admit his failure and to see agreement in her eyes.  “I...I should’ve done something that night.”

“You couldn’t have done anything.  You would’ve been killed.”

“At least, I would’ve died trying to save my dad.”  He paused, the thought, the memory making his skin flush.  “Instead, I was carried away like...an invalid.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she moved closer to him.  “You are not an invalid.  You never were.”

His throat tightened.  She reached out, her hand close to his cheek.  He stopped breathing.  He needed her touch more than air.  She’d never treated him as a cripple.  She was probably the only one other than his family who’d seen him for the person he was on the inside and not the boy in the wheelchair.  She dropped her hand and his heart constricted.  She turned away and he stared at her.  He’d been such a fool, clinging to his beliefs and his culture instead of following his heart.

“The Tracker’s gone.”  Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Let’s go see what it found so interesting down there.”  He pushed away from the cave.

“Some of your stuff may have washed ashore.”  She followed after him.

His serum was in his backpack.  He tripped over a clump of weeds, but quickly righted himself.  He had to have it.  He hurried to the river and stopped at the spot where the Tracker had been sniffing.  Relief and hope washed through him.  His backpack was upside down, caught on a rock.  He grabbed it and pulled out a shirt, tossing it to the ground.  There was nothing else inside.  He searched the pockets, turning the entire bag inside out, but it was empty.

“Well, you got a shirt back.”  She was trying to sound upbeat but failing.  “Sorry about your things.”

He shrugged, trying to hide his panic.  If he didn’t have his shot he’d lose his ability to walk.  He couldn’t burden her like that.  They had to find a way through Harbor Point before he became a cripple again.  He fought down the bile that rose in his throat.  He couldn’t go back to living without his legs.  She’d never leave him and he couldn’t stand to see the pity in her eyes.  She’d try to hide it, but without a chair she’d have to drag him everywhere.  He’d be completely helpless.  He straightened, struggling with his panic.  He had a few weeks before he was due for his medication and it’d probably take time for him to lose the use of his legs.  Fear tapped at his skull.  It’d taken only one day to make them work.  Why would the reverse be any different?

“Are you okay?”  She was staring at him, concern in her large, golden eyes.

When he’d been in the wheelchair, it hadn’t been only his legs that hadn’t worked.  He had to be with her at least once.  He grabbed her and kissed her.  It was hard and desperate.  She struggled in his arms but he held her tighter.  He couldn’t lose this, lose her.

“Please,” he mumbled against her lips.  “Let me touch you.  Hold you.  Love you.”

“Jethro, stop.”  She dug her claws into his chest and pushed.

The pain didn’t stop him, but the fear in her voice caused him to let her go.  He stepped back, his heart pounding.  “I’m sorry.”  He’d made a mistake, a miscalculation that moved his pursuit of her backward and he couldn’t afford the delay.  Either they found a way through Harbor Point or he lost his ability to have sex.  Either way, he was running out of time.

“Don’t ever do that again.”  She was almost spitting mad and he wanted to pull her into his arms and redirect that passion, but that’d be a bigger mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She shot him a glare.  “The Tracker came from over here.”  She pointed in the opposite direction of where it’d gone.  “We should start searching the wall in this area.”

He nodded and followed her, watching the way her pants clung to her backside.  She may be mad now, but she wanted him.  It’d been clear in her kiss yesterday, and he wasn’t going to let her hide from that fact.

They searched all day and found nothing but a few other caves and none of them led anywhere.

“We should camp here,” he said.  “This cave is deeper than the others so we can light a fire.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Her tone was defeated.

His irritation spiked.  She didn’t have to sound so sad about spending another day with him.  She bent and started gathering sticks.

“I’ll do that.”  He rested his hand on the small of her back and she jumped, moving away from him.

“Okay.  I’ll get some water.”  She headed down the hill toward the river.

She’d been jumpy and quiet all day and he was tired of it.  She had no reason to be afraid of him.  He began picking up sticks and tucking them under his arm.  He’d kissed her and it’d been a bit rough and spontaneous, but it hadn’t been their first kiss.  Shit, he hadn’t even been the first one to kiss her.  It’d been clear by the way she’d responded to him yesterday on the riverbank that she’d been kissed before, numerous times.  A flush of jealously raced through him.  He straightened as she came up the hill, a full water bottle in her hands.

“How many other guys have you been with?”  It was the wrong thing to say, but his mouth refused to listen to his brain.

“What are you talking about?”  She glanced at him, her cheeks reddening.

“You know exactly what I mean.  Mine wasn’t your first kiss.”

“Do you think I did nothing but pine for you the entire time you ignored me?”  She was pissed, and her anger made her even more attractive.  Her eyes sparked golden fire and her face flushed with color.

His hands twitched with the urge to grab her and kiss her again.  To show her that she belonged with him, but the claws peeking from her fingertips made him pause.  She had a temper, always had.  She’d probably slice him to ribbons.  So, he gave her a sheepish smile instead.  “It would’ve been nice if you had.”

“Well, I didn’t, and it might surprise you to know that I had experience kissing even before I met you.”  She shoved past him.

“Who?  Who have you kissed?”  He followed her inside the cave, dropping the sticks in a pile.  He was being irrational but he couldn’t help it.  She was his.  “Is that why you’re fighting your attraction to me?  Is there someone else?”  He didn’t want to hear the answer but he had to know.

“Why do you care?  I’m not an Almighty.”

The pain in her eyes made him wince.  He’d hurt her and all because of some stupid belief.  Somehow, he had to make her understand that he’d been a fool.  That he didn’t really believe they shouldn’t be together.  That was his father’s belief and Conguise’s not his.  “I’m sorry.”  His hand cupped her cheek.  “Give me another chance.  Please.”  He grinned.  “We can start again.”  The last time he’d used words from the past, it’d made her laugh.  “My name’s Jethro.”

“You don’t even believe me about who I am.”  Her voice cracked as she moved her face away from his touch.

His fingers caressed her cheek, wiping away a tear.  “I was wrong.  I was stupid.  I...I don’t feel that way anymore.  I never really did.”  He needed her to believe him.

“I’m sorry.  It’s too late.  There’s too much hurt between us.”  Tears welled in her eyes as she squatted and began working on the fire.

He couldn’t breathe.  His chest constricted and his head pounded.  He wanted to hold her until she admitted that she belonged to him, but instead he turned and went outside.  If only they could stay here, he was sure he could make her forget.  Make her forgive him.  But if they stayed, he’d become a burden.  He’d lose his ability to walk.  She’d take care of him but it’d kill him to be helpless around her.  He took a deep breath.  He still had some time.  He’d have to be careful around her, curb his instincts but he’d make her his because they belonged together.  He knew it like he knew blood flowed through his veins.

CHAPTER 52:  HUGH

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HUGH WAITED OUTSIDE OF what could only be called an estate.  Whoever lived here was very rich and that meant the owner was powerful.  He glanced around.  Hopefully, Tim hadn’t been lost during the trip.  They’d traveled through the forest and then around the outskirts of the city for several days.  They’d moved about in zigs and zags.  At first, he’d thought Meesus had known someone was following but after a while he’d realized it was her way of being careful.

Meesus had scaled the bars on the fence surrounding the estate a while ago, leaving him alone in the dark.  Her traveling companions waited in the woods nearby.  If she didn’t return soon, he was leaving.  Her daughter-in-danger story could be a trap.  Tim had confirmed most of what Matilda had told them.  Meesus had given birth to a little girl years ago, but the stories differed on what had happened to the child.  Some said she was sold, others that she’d died and a few said she’d been given away.

A cloaked figured moved toward him from the shadows.  It wasn’t Meesus.  It was bigger than her, probably male, and it moved like an Almighty.  The time had come.  Soon, he’d know if this was a trap.

The man stopped by the fence, pressing buttons on a nearby control panel.  The gate clicked open.  “Follow me.”  The man gestured for him to come forward.  “Hurry.  It can only stay open a few moments.”

He took one last look around and darted past the other Almighty and onto the estate.  The other man shut the gate and moved quickly across the manicured lawn, staying in the shadows.  He followed.

The estate was immaculate.  Not a plant out of place and the buildings were all large and well maintained.  Before his arrest, he’d been connected, at least somewhat, but he’d never even heard about this place.  He’d thought he’d realized how little he’d actually known about the workings of the more influential Almightys when he’d been betrayed and railroaded for treason, but obviously he still underestimated what he didn’t know.

They stopped at a building toward the back of the property.  It was a one-story, brick structure without windows.  It didn’t look inviting.  The figure opened the door and they slipped inside.  They were in a lab.  A nice one too.  Relief washed through him.  Meesus hadn’t betrayed him.

The man took off his cloak.

“Parson?  I thought you died?”  He and Steve Parson had worked together at Conguise’s lab years ago.  Parson was younger than him and had less experience, but the other man had gotten the promotion to the fifth floor.  He’d quit soon after that to work on his first tracking device, but he’d kept in contact with some of the other scientists.  He’d heard that Parson had drowned on vacation.

“Don’t call me that.”  Parson’s eyes darted around.  “My name is Rosenblur.  Dean Rosenblur but you’ll call me Rosenblur or sir.”

He lowered the hood of his cloak.  “It’s me.  H—”

“Your name is Bob.  You are never, never, under any circumstances to reveal or answer to your real name.”  Parson’s thin frame quivered with anger and nerves.  He’d been a neurotic, nervous, young man and he’d only gotten worse over the years.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m Bob, but how are you still alive?”

“Do you think Conguise would’ve let me leave?”  Parson glanced around again.  “I worked on the fifth floor.  No one leaves after seeing what goes on up there.”

“I saw what he did to his Guards.”  In hindsight, he was glad he hadn’t been promoted.

“I heard about the ones they found on your property.”

“They weren’t mine.  I didn’t do that to them.”

“I know that, but if you think that was bad, you know nothing.” Parson’s eye started to twitch.  “There are things a lot worse than what was planted at your cabin, living, breathing, hungry things.”

He swallowed a lump of fear in his throat.  What he’d seen had been bad enough.  “So you faked your own death?”

“I had to.  I didn’t want to end up like Ableson or the others.”  A tremor ran through Parson’s body, causing his hands to shake.

“I take it Abelson’s injury wasn’t an equipment accident as reported.”  He’d forgotten all about Ableson losing his arm.

Parson giggled.  It was a nervous sound.  “In Conguise’s mind it was an equipment accident.  His equipment is monsters.”

He took a deep breath.  They were getting way off topic and heading into creepy territory.  “Okay.  So, I’m Bob and you’re Rosenblur.”  He hesitated.  “Why are you doing this?”  By helping him, the other man was risking his new life.

“Not for you, trust me.”  Parson began digging in a cabinet.

“What does Meesus have on you?” he asked.  Parson had never struck him as the kind to go for illegal sex with Servants.  Plus, that wouldn’t be enough to risk this.  “Does she know your real name?”

“No and you can’t tell her.”  Parson’s voice broke.  “Please.  I know you never liked me but if you tell her she’ll....She’s ruthless.”

“I won’t tell her anything, Rosenblur.”

“Thank you.”  Parson quit trembling.

He nodded.  He’d never seen anyone this scared.  Whatever Meesus had on Parson, it was big.

“You need to put these on.”  Parson handed Hugh some clothes.  They were typical lab clothes, loose and plain.

“Is there somewhere I can shave?”  His beard was itchy and scruffy looking.  Meesus had barely allowed them time to sleep while traveling through the forest, let alone bathe.

“No,” Parson’s eyes widened.  “Bob’s a Guard, not an Almighty.  So, make sure when others are around you follow my orders and don’t look too familiar with the lab equipment.”

“How often are others around?”  He wouldn’t pass for a Guard under close scrutiny.  He had no fangs.

“Not often.”  Parson walked across the room.  “The other scientists work during the day, so you’ll need to stay away from the lab except at night.”

That worked for him.  He followed Parson out a door and down a narrow hallway.

“Change your clothes and leave your stuff here.”  Parson opened a small door at the end of the passageway.  “Meet me back at the lab.”

The room was small.  There was a narrow cot in the corner, a cabinet, a closet and a small table and chair.  It wasn’t great, but it’d do.  He wasn’t here to rest anyway.  He stepped inside and started to put his backpack on the bed.

“Oh, no.  The cot is mine.  You’ll sleep on the floor.  You’re a Guard, remember?”  There was a smirk in Parson’s tone.

He could push the issue.  He knew Parson’s big secret but the other man knew his too.  They were at a stalemate and sleeping on the floor wasn’t a big deal, not anymore.  He dropped his backpack in the corner.  Jail had been worse than this.  He pulled off his shirt.

“Oh, you need this too.”  Parson tossed him a small bottle.  “Put two drops in each eye ten minutes or so before coming to the lab.”

“What is it?”  The container was unmarked.

“No one usually comes to the lab at night but if someone does, the clothes will cover your skin and your beard will hide enough of your face, but Guards don’t have blue eyes.”

“Thanks.”  He’d forgotten about his eyes.  “What about tonight?”

“My shift is over in a couple of hours and I doubt anyone will show up, but put them in just in case.”  Parson turned and left, closing the door behind him.

After he changed into the scrubs, he put two drops in each eye.  It burnt but temporarily changing the pigmentation in his eyes shouldn’t feel good.  He pulled on the pair of gloves that’d been with the clothes.  Now, everything was covered.  His only problem was there were no pockets in his scrubs.  He needed his samples.  He was going to have to take his backpack with him.

Parson was already at work at his station when Hugh entered.

“Do Guards or Servants come in here at night?”  His disguise would never fool them.  They’d know by his scent that he was an Almighty.

Parson turned toward him, not happy about being interrupted.  “You can’t have that in here.”  He pointed at the backpack and stormed toward him.  “I told you to leave your stuff—”

“There are things in here I need.”  He shifted, keeping the backpack away from Parson.  There was no way the other guy was getting his samples.  He’d kill for them.

Parson stopped, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.  “I don’t want to know anything about what you’re doing, but you can’t have that in here.  It’ll draw attention.”

“From who?  You said it’d only be us in here.”

“I said the other scientist weren’t around often.  Barely ever, but once in a while some of them work late or pop in.  Your backpack has to stay in the room.”

“I don’t have any pockets.”

Parson fidgeted, his face scrunching up in thought.  “I don’t know what to tell you.  We can’t cause anyone to be suspicious, not even a little.  We can’t.”

He couldn’t argue with that, but he needed his samples.  Without them he might as well be back at camp.  He’d rather be there with Trinity anyway.  He missed her already and that wasn’t good.  He had to finish this, make the world safe for her and then he could be with her, but not until.  He glanced around.  The machines he needed were toward the back of the room.  “Is there a drawer that no one uses?  Some place I can keep my things while I’m here?”

Parson nodded and went to the other side of the room, passing a large, locked door and stopping at a row of three filing cabinets.  “I’ve never seen anyone use these.”  He opened one drawer.

The cabinets were big and had some files inside but the papers were yellowed with age.  It didn’t look like anyone had looked at this stuff in years.

“Yeah.  This’ll work.”  He opened a few more of the drawers.  “What are my duties supposed to be?  Which equipment will I be using?”  There were no locks on the cabinets.  If he had to work too far away, he wasn’t leaving his stuff over here.  He’d have to figure something else out.

Parson laughed.  “You’re a Guard.  You won’t be using any of the equipment.”  He handed Hugh a box of garbage bags.  “Your job is cleaning the lab.”

“Isn’t that a Servant’s job?”

“Not here.”  Parson couldn’t keep the smirk off his face.  “Servants can read.  Our boss doesn’t trust them.”

“That’s perfect.”  He grabbed a small garbage bag and stuffed his backpack into it.  Then he took a larger bag, putting the smaller one inside of it.  “Now, if someone happens to see me they won’t suspect anything when I move my things back and forth between the lab and the room.”

The smug smile slid off Parson’s face and he spun around going back to his station.

Obviously, Parson hadn’t realized how much Hugh had changed.  The old Hugh - High Hugh - would’ve been livid about being on cleanup duty, but losing everything had a way of putting life in perspective.  “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”  Parson, who was once again working, barely glanced his way.

“Who comes in here?  My disguise won’t fool Guards or Servants.”

“Just other Almightys when they need to work.”

“They don’t have Guards working with them?”

“No.  There are Guards patrolling the estate, of course, but the only Guard that comes in here is...you.”  Parson’s smirk returned.

“What happened to the other Guard?  The one who was here before me?”  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Don’t know.  Meesus took care of it.”  Parson glanced at him.  “Still have that fondness for Guards I see.”

“Yeah.  Believe it or not, they aren’t all that different from us.”

“So you claimed, right before your arrest.”  Parson turned back to his task.  “I don’t think Meesus hurt the Guard.  She knows this is temporary.  The Guard will have to return when you leave.”

“Thank you,” he said.  Parson hadn’t had to tell him that.  Maybe, the other Almighty had changed a little too.  “When does the morning shift start?”

Parsons sighed, turning away from his work again.  “Getting me fired isn’t going to help you.”

“Sorry.  Last question.  I promise.”  At least for now.

“They start around seven.  You should make sure you’re out of here by six to be safe and before you interrupt me again, my shift starts at six in the evening so you’ll want to start around seven.  Everyone should be gone by then.”

“Won’t they be suspicious if they never see me?”

Parson laughed.  “Still full of yourself, I see.  No...Bob, no one will think twice about not seeing the Guard who cleans the toilets.  As long as the work gets done no one cares what you do or where you are.”

“Perfect.”  It was, but he couldn’t help feeling bad for the real Bob.  It must be a lonely life for him.

Parson turned back to his work and he needed to do the same.  He didn’t have time to start analyzing the serum that Gaar and Mirra used, but he did have time to run a few DNA tests.  There were several machines capable of performing the necessary analytics.  He’d start with his control groups—samples from Producers, Grunts, Servants, Guards, Avions and Almightys who were pure-blooded.  Those tests should run fast, faster than the mixed-breed blood and the comparisons between the classes.

“What are you doing?”  Parson glared at him from across the room.

“What I came here to do.”  He put a sample into the machine.  He wasn’t going to discuss his experiments with anyone, least of all Parson.

“You don’t have time tonight.  You need to clean this place up.”

He glanced around.  The lab was a mess.  The garbage bins were full.  There were beakers and vials that needed to be washed.  He glanced longingly at the computer as Trinity’s voice whispered through his mind.  He was in unfamiliar territory.  The first thing he needed to do was to figure out his entrances and exits.

“You need to get this place clean or there’ll be questions.  You don’t want questions.”  Parson’s voice was getting shrill.

“I’ll get it done.”  He loaded another machine with samples.  Trinity would be disappointed but learning about his surroundings was going to have to wait.  “It’ll only take a minute to get these started.”

“Well, you’d better have the bathrooms cleaned and the trash bins emptied at the very least.  I can tell them you were ill but the place had better be spotless tomorrow.”

“It’ll be spotless tonight.”  He couldn’t afford any questions.  He had to meet with Bruno tomorrow.  If everything went as planned and Tim had been able to follow him, the Servant would report Hugh’s location to Townsend and Bruno would arrive the next evening.  He hoped to have the first set of DNA printouts ready for the reporter.  Once the analysis was complete on the pure-blood samples, he’d start the mix-breed printouts and the serum.

CHAPTER 53:  HUGH

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THE NEXT EVENING, AS soon as Hugh had the DNA machines analyzing another set of samples, he moved to the computer.  He had to find the exits and the pattern of the Guards patrolling the grounds before he slipped out to meet Bruno.

“Don’t break that.”  Parson glanced at him.

“I know how to use a computer.”  Obviously, he’d been wrong.  Parson hadn’t changed.  The other Almighty was still a Grunt’s ass.  “You do recall I created the Tracking Device program?”

“I have a few questions about that.”

“What interest do you have in my software?”

“It isn’t yours anymore, is it?”

That was true.  The patent now belonged to the Supreme Almighty and the Council.  There’d been a legal battle over who owned the property of a traitor and, of course, the Council had decided they did.

“I’m working on a project and the functionality of your tracking device would be a perfect base for my prototype.”  Parson waved his hand, dismissing him.  “We can talk about it later.  I’m behind, thanks to your late arrival last night.”

There’d be a lot more questions about Parson’s project before he agreed to help.  He wasn’t going to assist with anything that’d further subjugate the other classes.  He sat down and turned on the computer.  When he’d been arrested they’d removed his access from all the systems, but what they hadn’t realized was that like any good programmer, he’d built in a back door.  They also didn’t know he’d helped the Almighty who’d designed the National Health Assurance Registry System (NHARS) database.  They’d been college rivals turned friends and his friend had, of course, also built in a back door, but he’d hack into that later.  First order of business was his surroundings.  Trinity would be proud of him for focusing on the most eminent threat.  He rolled his shoulders and started to work.  All he needed was to get inside and he’d have access to everything.  It took a few attempts, but as soon as he was in, he opened the mapping application and zoomed all the way out, showing everything, forest, city, suburbs, etc.

“What’s the address here?”

“Why?”  Parson’s tone was cautious.

“Do you really want to know?”  He glanced over his shoulder at the other Almighty.

“No, and I don’t see why you need to know.”  Parson headed toward him.  “What are you doing?”  He gasped when he saw the monitor.  “Close that down.  They track who accesses that program.”

He slapped Parson’s hands away from the computer.  “It’s fine.  They can’t track me.”  He hoped.  In the past entering through the backdoor had left no trace on the server.  He doubted they’d added any extra security.  There was no way they’d guess that he’d get access to a computer.

“I don’t care.  Turn it off before we both get in trouble.”

“Tell me the address and I’ll be out of here in a minute.”  That was a lie.

Parson stiffened.  “I don’t know the exact address.  It’s not like I get mail here.”

“How long have you worked here?”  He shook his head.  It didn’t matter.  This was typical of many of the scientists he knew.  They could tell you in detail the molecular structure of a rabbit, but they had no idea how to make a sandwich.  “Never mind.  Who do you work for?”

“I can’t tell you that.”  Parson backed away.  “I won’t tell you that.”  He glanced around.  “That could get me killed.”

What had Meesus gotten him into?  He couldn’t stop himself, he also looked around, but the place was empty except for the two of them.  He scanned the room slower.  “Are there cameras in here?”  He was a dead man if there were.

“In here?”  Parson shook his head, laughing nervously.  “Are you crazy?  There’s no way he’d allow that.”

“Good.  Then we’re safe inside the lab, right?  No one will know what we say or do.”

Parson tipped his head slightly in agreement.

“What about outside this room?  The hallways, the other rooms, outside the building?”

“Oh yeah, there are cameras all over the estate, but none in this building.”

The vise around his chest loosened.  He’d had his cloak on outside.  “But in here, no one knows what goes on, right?”  Now, he was extremely curious as to what was happening in this lab.

“Right.  We’re safe.  No one knows about you or me.”  Parson glanced at the computer.  “Unless you’re wrong about that system.”

“I’m not wrong, but I think you’ll agree that the sooner I leave, the better.”

Parson nodded.

“Then, tell me who owns this place and I’ll be able to finish what I have to do on the computer and move on to my other tasks.”

“You want to know who owns the estate?”  Parson’s face was incredulous.  “Why didn’t you ask?  I would’ve—”

“I did ask and you almost had a panic attack.”

“No,”—Parson  gave him a smug look—“you asked who I worked for not who owns the estate.”

He frowned.  Now he was confused.

“Wickerwood owns this place.”

“Wickerwood?  Wilt Wickerwood?”  He blinked and blinked again.  That couldn’t be right.  Wickerwood had been in charge of distributing the serum before he’d retired and the job had been handed over to Hugh.  The man wasn’t very bright and hadn’t been rich.  Something was definitely going on around here.  This was the nicest lab he’d ever seen.  It had all the newest and best equipment.

“Yes.”  Parson waved his hand at the computer.  “So, hurry up and get whatever you’re doing done.”

“Wickerwood owns this place but he’s not your boss?”

Parson laughed.  “You know the man.  Do you think he could mastermind this...”  His face paled.  “I have to get back to work.”  He spun around and scurried to his workstation.

He started to follow but stopped, squashing his curiosity.  It was none of his business what was going on here.  He had other more important tasks to finish.  He turned to the computer and ran a search on property owned by Wilt Wickerwood.  Once he had the address he entered it into the mapping application.  He zoomed into the location and ran a search on tracking device numbers assigned to Wickerwood.  He activated those numbers and watched the dots appear on the map.  There were a lot of dots, but that wasn’t unusual.  An estate this size would have numerous House Servants, Guards and even some Grunts.  There were three dots moving about the perimeter.  He clicked on them.  They were Guards, probably doing their rounds.

He zoomed in to the building where he was and started panning around the nearby locations.  He stopped on one of the buildings Parson had pointed out last night as places to avoid.  Parson had said it was the Guards’ quarters and by the number of dots, the other man hadn’t lied.  He opened the report section of the application and paused.  Parson didn’t work for Wickerwood.  This lab wasn’t run by Wickerwood.  There was a good possibility that some of the Guards assigned here belonged to Parson’s boss.  He clicked on the mapping application and activated one of the custom tools he’d built a few months before his arrest.  He added the extents of the estate and hit enter.

He waited, watching for new points to highlight on the map.  This query would show the tracking devices in the area, not only those assigned to Wickerwood.  There were no new points in the Guards quarters.  He panned over to the house.  Most of the dots congregated toward the back of the home which was where the Servants’ sleeping quarters were situated in most homes, but there was one dot that wasn’t with the others.  He zoomed in closer and brought up the floor plans.  This point was in what should be the master bedroom.  His lips twitched.  Conguise would be so disappointed to know that interclass mating was alive and well even in the upper echelons of society.

He zoomed in closer on the house.  Meesus may have brought him here for more than the lab.  He clicked on the dot that represented the House Servant who was in the bedroom.  Odd.  This Servant had the older model tracking device, the one which only tracked where the Servant was at that moment.  He did a query and realized that there were three House Servants who had the older devices.  All the rest had the newer ones.  These three could be older Servants who hadn’t been given the upgrade.  He ran his hand through his hair.  Doubtful, since one of them was in the master bedroom.  His stomach twisted.  No customer would purchase a Servant for sex if she had a device that tracked every location she’d been and no procurer would want that information out there either.

He tried to bring up more information about the three House Servants with the old devices but the only data was the device numbers and the sex.  They were all female.  There was supposed to be age and DNA information about them but it was missing.

He scratched his chin.  If this place had something to do with Meesus’ daughter, why hadn’t she told him?  He glanced at Parson.  The Almighty had to know something about what went on around here, but he’d worry about that later.  It was almost time to go.

He looked back at the screen.  The Guards on duty were nearing their quarters.  He ran another query and said a silent prayer of gratitude.  All the Guards had the newest devices which meant he could run reports on their patterns of movements.  It’d save him a lot of time trying to figure out their routines.  He clicked a button to print the report.  Now, he had to find the exits out of this place.  There were no reports or query tools for that, so he zoomed around the perimeter of the estate, making a rough sketch of the area.

There was a secluded section in the back where the fence was concealed by large bushes.  He jotted the coordinates down.  This is where he’d meet Bruno the next time.  The area he’d entered last night was too open but it’d have to do for their first meeting.  He panned over a large, brick building on the back of the lot.  It was plain and square and didn’t fit with the rest of the architecture.  It reminded him of the slaughterhouses in the Warehouse District.  He zoomed away from it.  Right now, he had to focus on his safety and his experiments, not what was happening at this facility.  Of course, knowing if there were illegal activities going on here might be to his benefit.  Not that he could do anything about it, but information was power and he could pass along anything he found to Townsend.

One-by-one the dots meandering around the perimeter entered the barracks.  The perimeter check was done.  The time for snooping for information was over.  After clearing evidence of his searches and turning off the computer, he grabbed his garbage bag and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”  Parson glanced up from the microscope.

“Clean the bathrooms.”  He made a face.  “I’d like to get that task out of the way.”

“Have fun.”  Parson smirked.

He sent the other Almighty a glare and left.  He slipped into the bathroom, grabbing his cloak, knife and reports from last night out of his garbage bag before shoving the bag into an empty cabinet.  He pulled on his cloak and strapped his knife to his waist as he made his way out of the building.  Hopefully, Tim had been able to get his location to Townsend so that Bruno would be waiting for him.  If not, he’d have to decide if he should stay and finish his tests or if he should attempt to go back to camp on his own.  He could head for Townsend’s house, but traveling through the city alone was as dangerous as the forest.  He shoved those worries aside.  Bruno would be waiting for him, he had faith in Tim.  He almost laughed out loud.  When had that happened?  Six years ago, he would’ve rather jumped out of a ten-story building than put his faith in the House Servant, but now he had more trust in his friends from the other classes than Almightys.

He darted across the lawn, staying behind shrubbery as much as possible.  He stopped at the fence where he’d entered last night.  This was their rendezvous point.  He glanced around.  Everything was quiet.  Bruno should be waiting in the woods nearby.  All he had to do was open the gate.  He moved over to the panel and raised his hand to push the button that’d open the gate...

“I wouldn’t do that, High Hugh.”

He jumped, stumbling backward and reaching for his knife as The Victor moved out of the shadows on the other side of the fence.

“Shit!  Victor, you startled me.”  He took a deep breath as he withdrew his hand from under his cloak.  He’d scanned the area and hadn’t seen anything.  Trinity wouldn’t be happy with him.

The Victor’s lips curled.  “It’s The Victor and you were frightened before I said anything.  You reek of fear.”

“That’s great to know and I’ll call you The Victor when you stop calling me High Hugh.”  He glanced behind him, hoping the Guards wouldn’t catch his scent.  He started to press the button again.

“Don’t.”  The Victor’s voice was sharp.  “Unless you want to get caught.”

He snatched his hand away from panel.

“The opening and closing of these gates are monitored.”  The Victor moved over to the fence.  “And, you aren’t leaving here.  Not until your job is done.”

“I wasn’t leaving.  Not for long anyway.  I need to meet a friend.”

“Too bad.  Meesus found you a lab.  Now, you hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I will, but I need to get these reports to my friend or having a lab means nothing.”

“You should’ve included that in your deal with her.”

“I didn’t expect to be held prisoner,” he said as Jackson’s laughter echoed through his head along with the Guard’s smug I told you so.

“Tell you what.  Since you’re working for the good of us all, I’ll deliver your reports for you.”  The Victor’s eyes gleamed as he held out his hand.

“Thanks, but no.”  He wasn’t risking it.  The Victor would give the reports to Meesus or Ray and they may decide to turn them over to the Allied Classes or they may not.

“You’re not leaving.”  The Victor crossed his arms over his chest.

“He can if he wants to.”  Bruno stepped out of the brush from several yards away and headed toward them.

The Victor hissed as he spun toward the Guard.  “Not without going through me first.”

“That isn’t a problem.”  Bruno’s fists were clenched and his lips curled, showing his fangs.

“Stop it, both of you.”  He glanced behind him.  These two weren’t being quiet.  “I’ll be the one dead if we draw attention to ourselves.”

The Guard and Servant snarled at each other but seemed to agree with him because neither of them took another step toward the other.

“Good.  Bruno, come here.  The Victor, please give us a minute to speak in private.”  At The Victor’s narrowed eyes, he continued, “I’m inside the fence.  I’m not going anywhere.”

The Victor moved back several yards, but continued to watch them.

He handed Bruno the reports and the paper with the coordinates he’d marked.  “These are some of the baseline DNA reports and my notes on areas that’ll be of interest when I have the other reports.  I’ll have them”—he glanced at The Victor—“the next time.”  He tapped the piece of paper with the coordinates, hoping Bruno would understand that this was the location for their meeting next week.  He didn’t need The Victor hanging around every time they met.  He’d help Meesus’ daughter when the time came, but he wasn’t going to be a prisoner ever again.

“Do you need me to get you out of here?”  Bruno stuffed the papers in a satchel.

“No.  As soon as I figure out how to get past the security measures, I’ll leave a note in the reports telling where we should meet.”

Bruno nodded.  “Until next time.”  He snarled at The Victor and then disappeared into the brush.

“Goodnight, T...Victor.”  He had no reason to use the Servant’s title, now that Bruno was gone and there wouldn’t be a fight.

“You can rest easy, High Hugh.  I’ll be watching to make sure you stay...safe,” said The Victor.  “You’re gonna be here a while so you may want to find something to occupy your days.  Pacing in your room and sleeping is going to get old.”

“Thanks.  I’ll find a book.”  All day locked in his room would be a perfect time to analyze the reports.

As soon as he snuck back inside, he finished cleaning the bathrooms.  They were disgusting.  How do so many people miss the toilet?  He shivered, pushing those thoughts from his head, as he returned to the lab.  He was torn between discovering how to disable the alarm system and working on the serum.  Trinity’s face popped into his head.  He’d do the serum first.  The sooner he could get that to Tim, through Bruno, the better.  It was important for everyone’s safety, plus he’d promised Trinity.  It’d only been a few days, but he missed her.  He missed talking to her and seeing her.  He shook his head as he pulled a sample of the serum from his garbage bag.  He’d never had a female stick in his head like this.  It was annoying and it had to stop.  He pushed all thoughts of her from his mind and started working.  The sooner he got this and his reports done, the sooner he’d get to see her again.  He smirked.  So much for not thinking about her.

CHAPTER 54:  HUGH

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HUGH STARED AT THE reports on the serum.  They were the same as the ones he’d run before and it didn’t make sense.  The serum was little more than vitamin water but how could vitamins make Gaar stronger and Mirra weaker?  He added the serum to the Tracker and Handler blood again and put it into the mass spectrometer, even though he was sure of the outcome.  He hadn’t missed anything.  He couldn’t have.  He’d spent days running these tests over and over again, and they always came back the same.

He pulled up the mapping application and verified that the Guards were done with their perimeter check.  He had the reports and knew their routines, but checking before he left was the careful thing to do and he was always careful.  “I’m going to clean the bathrooms.”

Parson grunted at him as he headed into the hallway.  It was time to meet Bruno.  Townsend wouldn’t be thrilled with his lack of progress.  He’d run the reports on the mix-breeds but hadn’t analyzed the data yet.  He’d been too busy trying to figure out the serum.  Making a batch of it wouldn’t be too difficult.  He’d already verified that the serum Meesus had given them matched the original, so all he had to do was duplicate it, but he’d gotten sidetracked on how it worked.

After leaving his samples in the bathroom, he headed out into the night, darting around to the back of the estate.  He moved through the bushes up to the fence and waited.  He hated this part—waiting in the dark, not knowing if a Guard was going to catch him.  Something moved in the brush across the street.  He sighed as Bruno jogged over to him.

“Bruno...”

The Guard held up his hand, silencing him.  Bruno’s ears were perked and his nostrils quivering.  “Damn.”  He spun toward Hugh.  “Why did you tell the Servant where we were meeting?”

“What are you talking about?”  He glanced around.  He hadn’t told anyone anything.  The smell of alcohol drifted toward him.  “Are you drunk?”

“What?  No.  I had a few at the pub while waiting for our meeting, but I ain’t drunk,” growled Bruno.

The Victor slipped out of the shadows.  “High Hugh and”—his lips curled upward—“the Guard.  You can’t hide from The Victor.”  His eyes narrowed on Hugh.  “So, stop trying.”  He moved closer.  “You won’t escape.”

“I...I’m not trying to escape.”  He wasn’t, not this time, anyhow.

“Gruntshit!”  The Victor bared his teeth.

“I really wasn’t.”  He straightened.  Characters like The Victor preyed on the weak.  He wasn’t going to be prey.  “But informing you of everything I do wasn’t part of my agreement with Meesus.”

“It is now.”

“That’s not going to work for me.”  Bruno stepped toward the Servant.

“Stop.  Both of you.”  He didn’t need this.  “Isn’t it clear why I didn’t want you around?”  He waved his hand.  “The two of you want to fight.  That’ll get me captured and killed.”

The Victor shrugged and Bruno glanced away.

“I have to meet with him”—he nodded at Bruno—“in order to get my reports to the right people.  This has nothing to do with Meesus and everything to do with the war and why I made this agreement with her in the first place.  If I can’t run my tests and deliver my reports there’s no reason for me to be here.  No reason for me to need a lab.”

“Too bad.  You made the deal.  You’ll see it through,” said The Victor.

“And I will, but I have to meet with Bruno.”

The Victor shrugged.  “I suppose that’s okay, but I’m going to attend your meetings.”  He moved a fraction closer, keeping one eye on Bruno.  “I don’t trust you not to run.”

He took a deep breath.  The Victor’s instincts were good.  He was leaving as soon as he was done.  He’d promised Trinity to help with the war and he wouldn’t break that promise, bend it a bit, but never break it.  Meesus could find him when she needed his help.  “Fine.  But you have to agree not to antagonize Bruno and to let us talk in private.”  He still had plenty of work to do.  He’d figure out a way to escape The Victor’s presence later.

“You don’t have to agree to this, Hugh.”  Bruno snarled.  “I can take care of the Servant.”

“I made a deal with Meesus and The Victor is protecting her interests.  It’s fine.  Really.”  He turned toward The Victor.  “We’ll be meeting again next week.  Right here.”

The Victor eyed them suspiciously but nodded.

“Now, can you give us a minute?”

The Victor grudgingly moved away.

“I don’t like this,” said Bruno.  “How’d the Servant find us if you didn’t tell him?”

“I don’t know.”  The estate was too big for The Victor to monitor the entire thing, unless the Servant had access to the outside cameras.  Although he avoided them as much as possible, he may have missed one or two.  He’d have to look into that right away.  If Guards were watching the cameras he may get caught by someone besides The Victor.  “I’ll figure it out.”  He handed the reports through the bars of the gate.  “I’ll have more next week.”

Bruno nodded.  “Until next time, High Hugh.”

He started to say something but hesitated at Bruno’s laughter.

“You need to stop letting that bother you.  It’s never too good to rile easily.”  Bruno turned and disappeared across the street and into the brush.

“Take your own advice and apply it to House Servants,” he mumbled as he waved at The Victor and headed to the lab.  He needed to find every camera on this property.

CHAPTER 55:  HUGH

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AS SOON AS HUGH finished cleaning the bathrooms, he went back to the lab, pushing all thoughts of The Victor from his head.  The serum’s effect on the Tracker and Handler blood was driving him crazy.  The mass spectrometer was still chugging along, so he pulled out samples of the Tracker and Handler blood from before they’d had their serum and samples from after they’d been given the shot.  He prepared slides and put the first set of samples into the two available machines.  He grabbed notebooks and pens, stuffing them into his bag.  He’d spend all day tomorrow analyzing the data.  That he could do in the bedroom.  Actually, he could do that in the forest.  Whatever he discovered had no bearing on the war.  He’d give himself one more day, but he wouldn’t stay here forever trying to figure out how the serum worked.  Right now, all he needed was to duplicate the original.  He’d worry about understanding how and why it modified the DNA, if he lived through the war.

He grabbed his cleaning supplies and started straightening up the lab.  Scientists were slobs.  He owed his former Servants an apology.  By the time he was done, his second set of Tracker and Handler blood analyses were done.  He gathered the reports, opened the garbage bag and put them in with the others.  He glanced at the clock.  He still had time before he had to go back to the room, but not enough to start another set of samples or to make sure he’d found all the cameras on the estate, but he did have enough time to do a quick DNA search.  This wasn’t top on his list but he’d like to let Tim know for sure if Sarah was his mother and he wanted to verify what Little Sarah had told him.

He’d already run analyses on his, Tim and Barney’s DNA along with the samples his sister had sent to him.  The blood had been Little Sarah’s and the hair his moth...Sarah’s.  The hair had been too degraded to give a full DNA report, but he was pretty sure that along with him and his sister, Sarah had been full-blooded Almighty.  Tim was mixed and Barney was pure Servant.  Nothing unexpected.

He entered the NHARS database, using the back door his friend had programmed into the system.  He uploaded his, Tim and Barney’s DNA data into the database.  It’d be a waste of time to upload Sarah’s due to the poor sample and Little Sarah’s was already in there.  He searched for his sister’s record.  If she were Sarah’s daughter it’d show a maternal similarity to Tim’s but not paternal.  He ran a comparison report.  Their mitochondrial DNA was a match.  They were both Sarah’s children.  He compared his mitochondrial DNA to Little Sarah’s.  No match.  His stomach twisted a little.  Apparently, he’d harbored some hope that Sarah had been his mother.  His hand froze above the keyboard.  If she had been he’d be Trinity’s uncle.  Suddenly, he was very glad Sarah wasn’t his mother.

He compared Barney and Tim’s DNA.  Barney was Tim’s father.  He was happy for both of them.  To be thorough, he ran Little Sarah’s DNA against General Hugh Truent’s.  Just because she was Sarah’s daughter and believed the General was their father didn’t make it true.  Araldo, he hoped the General’s DNA didn’t run through his or Little Sarah’s blood.

So much for hope.  Little Sarah was General Hugh Truent’s daughter.  Too bad for her.  He hesitated.  He didn’t want to do it, but he had to know for sure.  He ran his DNA against the General’s, closing his eyes and praying Little Sarah had been mistaken about his paternity.  The machine beeped.  He forced himself to open his eyes and face his fate.  His hand shook as he ran it through his hair.  His sister hadn’t been mistaken.  He was related to that bastard after all.  He took a deep breath.  It was time to find his mother, if she were in the system.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do with the information.  A lot depended on who she was.  If she’d been young or if his father hadn’t given her a choice, he might find her one day, if they won the war.  Otherwise, she was better off continuing to have nothing to do with him.

He entered a search on his DNA for any matches and clicked the button before he could change his mind.  His father’s name came up right away and his grandfather and a few uncles and then Martha Remore’s name popped onto the screen.  That wasn’t possible.  She wasn’t old enough to be his mother.  She could be a distant cousin or something, but why hadn’t his....Sarah said something.  Cold dread swept through him.  She couldn’t be his mother.  She couldn’t.  His mind froze but his hands kept working.  He ran the report.  His mitochondrial DNA matched Martha’s.  His finger pressed down on the keyboard and the screen changed.  Her maiden name was Price.  Her father had been in the military.  She was forty-seven.  He ran his hand through his hair.  That meant she’d been fourteen when she’d had him and thirteen when she’d gotten pregnant—the preferred age for his pervert of a father.

“That son-of-a-bitch!”  He shoved away from the desk, his mind racing.  His father had raped her.  Even if she’d been willing, she’d been too young to consent.  She wasn’t the girl in the story he’d heard when he was in college.  He’d already been born when that had happened.  It seemed that raping young girls had been a habit of his father’s.

“Be careful with the equipment,” snapped Parson.

“It’s fine.”  He snarled at the other Almighty.

“It’s time for you to go.”  Parson turned back to his work.

“In a minute.”  If his father had sired more children the search would find them, as long as they were in the system.  He waited but the only other names that came up were distant family that he’d already known about.

“You really need to leave,” prodded Parson.

He glanced at the clock.  This time, Parson was right.  He printed out copies of the reports and stuffed them into the garbage bag.  He deleted his, Tim and Barney’s data from the system and cleared his search history.  He shut down the machine and gathered his things.  Martha had to know he was her son.  Had that been why she’d sent the clothes after he’d escaped from jail?  Why hadn’t she ever said anything to him?  They’d met socially on several occasions.  He headed for his room.  He had so many questions and no one to answer them.  Had seeing him in society been a reminder of what his father had done to her?  Did she hate him?  He looked a lot like his father.

Most Almightys weren’t in the NHARS, so he hadn’t actually expected to find his biological mother, but he’d never thought she’d be someone he knew.  Someone he’d known for years.  He wanted to talk to Trinity about this.  She’d help him understand what he should do but she was miles away at base camp.  They may as well be in different worlds.

CHAPTER 56:  TRINITY

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TRINITY GATHERED THE CLOTHES she’d washed in the river yesterday and stuffed them in her backpack.  She shoved a few of the roots they’d cooked for dinner last night into her mouth and put the rest aside for Jethro.  He hadn’t been eating much.  She was sure he’d been doing it so there was more for her and although it was sweet it was also stupid.  He was bigger than her, a lot bigger and he needed his strength.

“Good morning.”  Jethro stood at the entrance to the cave, his dark hair damp from his bath in the river and his wet shirt hanging in his hand.

“Morning.”  It came out kind of like a squeak.  She couldn’t pull her eyes away from his chest.  They both washed up every morning or evening but she’d never seen him half naked.

“It was starting to stink.”  He shook his shirt.  “Actually, not starting.”  His words were playful, but his eyes were darkening with desire as he watched her.

She had to quit staring.  She was sending him the wrong message but it was getting hard to fight her attraction to him.  Over the past few days, they’d spent almost every moment together.  They hadn’t found anything remotely resembling a passage in the rock wall, but they’d talked while searching the caves and at night, alone in the dark.  She’d told him about growing up and he’d told her about his childhood and college.  He’d told her some of the other stories about the statues at the Lake of Sins and they’d been scary and funny and poignant.  Then, when she couldn’t stay awake any longer, he’d pull her close and hold her while they slept.  She shouldn’t have let him, but even when the caves were deep enough to light a fire, it was warmer in his arms.

His eyes locked with hers and he dropped his shirt as he moved toward her.  She should get up or say something, anything to stop him, but she didn’t.  He sat down next to her, his hand cupping her cheek.  His lips touched hers.  She froze, not sure if she wanted to kiss him or run away.  He deepened the kiss and her body swayed into his.  He must’ve taken it as a sign because he pulled her close, his arms holding her tight.  She tried to remember why she shouldn’t be kissing him, but couldn’t.  This was the Jethro she remembered; the boy she’d loved.

He shifted laying her back against the ground, his body covering hers.  His lips moved to her neck and his hand wandered up from her waist.  She grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Please.”  He kissed her ear.  “I need to touch you.”  He trailed kisses over her lips and cheeks.  “I’ve wanted you for so long.  Dreamt of you.”

She shivered, from nerves and his nearness, but she tightened her grip.  His lips moved down her throat and she let go of his hand to grab his hair, stopping him again.  He rested his face against her neck, his warm breath making her shiver.

“Please, Little One...Trinity.”  He whispered against her skin.  “I’ll make it good for you.  I promise.”  He let his body press more heavily against her as he moved to kiss her again.

She didn’t want to mate with him, but she didn’t want him to stop either.  She turned her head.  His lips found her neck and tingles ran through her body.  This wasn’t right but it felt so good.  His hand moved under her shirt and Hugh’s blue eyes and mocking grin flashed through her mind.  She shoved Jethro on the chest.  None of this meant anything to him.  On the other side of this wall he was still her enemy.  “Stop.”

He braced himself more firmly on his arms, but he didn’t move away.  His breathing was heavy and his eyes searched her face, but she couldn’t meet his gaze.  He’d look all rumpled and attractive and that’d make her want to kiss him and he wanted more than kisses.  She wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment, not with him.  She needed to know how he truly felt about her.  This could all be a game to him, like kissing her had been to Randy.  She rolled away and sat up.  On top of that, even if he did care for her, there was Hugh to consider.  She wanted to curl up and cry.  She missed Hugh.  She missed talking to him.  He’d tell her if she were being a fool where Jethro was concerned.

Jethro sat up and moved over by her.  “It’s okay, Little One.  We can go slow.  We won’t do anything you don’t want to.”  He kissed her cheek, his lips moving toward her neck.  “I promise.”

“Your cuts.  From the Cold Creeper.”  She turned, but he didn’t stop kissing her.

“They’re fine,” he mumbled against her throat.

She pulled away from him, her fingers examining the scars on his chest.  “They’re healed.”

“I heal fast.”  His hand covered hers, forcing it against the rapid beat of his heart.

“No one heals that fast.”  All passion fled as she tugged on her hand and he let her go, sighing a little.  She leaned closer to the wounds.  “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know.  It’s been like this ever since my surgery.”

“It’s amazing.”  She touched the marks again.  The bite of a Cold Creeper was bad.  Their teeth were long and serrated, leaving huge gashes in the skin, but a scratch was just as bad.  Their claws were usually covered in dirt and could easily spread infection.

“You’re amazing.”  He leaned forward and captured her mouth.

She couldn’t fight it anymore.  He pulled her to him and her fingers trailed up his bare chest and around his neck, his skin warm and smooth.  His hands were everywhere and she couldn’t think, didn’t want to think about why she shouldn’t be doing this.  He gently pushed her back to the ground, his large body covering hers once again.

“My Little One.”  He deepened the kiss and then stopped.  “You’re mine.  You’ve always been mine.”

But she wasn’t his.  She wanted him, wanted this, but how could she when she loved Hugh?  She stilled.  She loved Hugh.  There it was.  The feelings clear like they’d always been there, waiting for her to see them, like a Tracker waiting in a tree—hidden in plain sight.

“What’s the matter?”  He leaned up.

She rolled out from under him.  “I...I can’t...”  She couldn’t tell him.  It’d hurt him and she didn’t want to hurt him.

He ran his hand down her arm.  “It’s okay.  We can wait.  Take it slow.”  He grinned at her.  “It’ll kill me, but I’ll do it for you.”

Her heart ripped in two.  She loved him too.  What was she going to do?

“Don’t cry.”  He sat up and wrapped his arms around her.  “It’s okay.  We can do or not do whatever you want.  I swear.  Just don’t cry, please.”

She cried harder.  How had she gotten herself into this mess?  This wasn’t fair.  With every comforting word and stroke of his hand on her hair, she fell in love with him a little more, but her heart ached for Hugh.  She had to decide who she wanted.  She had to pick one.  Her breath caught in her throat.  She didn’t know what Jethro honestly thought of her and the other classes.  Her heart raced as she wiped her eyes and moved out of his arms.  “I have a question.”

“Okay.”  He was wary.  He’d gotten good at sensing her moods.

“When we get back to the other side, what’s going to happen?”  Her heartbeat stalled to slow thuds.  His next words would cause pain no matter what.  Either she’d have to decide between him and Hugh, hurting both her and one of them, or he’d prove to her that this, that she, meant nothing to him but a quick mating with one of the lower classes.

He stiffened, his eyes growing tired like a huge weight was pressing him down.  “You’re going back to your camp.”

“What about Travis?”

“I’ll do what I can, but I may not be able to help him.  They might have already turned him over.”

The words were like a knife, twisting her insides.  Travis, her friend, could be dead and she’d been kissing the man who’d been responsible.

“I don’t think anything happened.”  He took her hand, his heat sinking into her suddenly cold skin.  “They were my Guards who chased him.  They knew the plan.  I don’t think they would’ve turned him over.  I swear.”

“What was the plan?”  All warmth had gone.  Over here it was another world and she’d let herself forget that he was her enemy.

“I already told you.”  He took her other hand.  “I wanted to talk to you.  I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, my dreams since the day we met.  I didn’t mean any harm to come to you or your...or any Producer.”

“I believe you.”  Her stomach sank as her heart lifted.  Now, she had to decide if she wanted to be with him or Hugh.

He almost deflated with relief and then he kissed her again, but she pulled back after a moment.  She couldn’t start that again.  She had to sort out her feelings first.

“We should get moving.  I saw another crevice down the wall a bit.”  She stood and brushed off her pants.

He jumped to his feet and helped her, his palms lingering on her butt and thighs.

“Stop it.  I don’t need your help.”  She swatted at his hands which were doing more caressing than brushing.

“Are you sure?  I’m always here if you need anything.”  He leaned in and whispered in her ear.  “No job is too small.  There’s not one spot on your body that I wouldn’t gladly”—his eyes roamed over her—“help you clean.”

“Thanks, but I can manage on my own.”  Her cheeks flushed.

“If you insist, but the offer stands.”

She turned and led the way out of the cave.  If she stayed in there much longer, she’d do something she wasn’t ready to do.  She’d loved him forever and he’d changed over here.  There were glimpses of the kind boy she’d fallen in love with mixed with the man he was now—capable, strong and determined.  It was a heady combination and she needed some space to breath, to think.

She stopped at the crevice.  It was small.  “It might be better if you wait here.”

“You’re not going in there alone.”

“We haven’t found anything dangerous over here.”

“Except the Tracker.”

“You have a point, but if I encounter the Tracker or anything dangerous, having you stuck behind me isn’t going to help.”  She turned and looked up at him.  “Stop being so stubborn and wait here.”

“No.”  He kissed her nose and bent down.  “The opening is wider at the bottom and if it does lead to the other side it’s big enough for the Tracker, so I shouldn’t have any problems.”  He grinned up at her.  “I knew you’d bring me to my knees one day, I just hadn’t figured it’d be like this.”

She flushed.  He had to stop saying things like that.  He was making it hard for her to think and she needed to be sure how she felt about him and Hugh before she made her choice.  She didn’t want to do anything she’d regret later.

“Get moving.  We’ve got more tunnels to search.”  He gave her a slight pat on the butt.

“Stay close.”  She crawled into the crevice.

“Don’t worry.  You’re stuck with me now.”  He trailed along behind her.

“If this leads out, what are you going to do?”  Part of her wanted to invite him to go to camp with her, but Hugh might be back by now, if he was even coming back and not spending the rest of the war in the lab.

“Not sure.  What are you going to do?”

“I need to find....”  She wasn’t ready to talk to him about Hugh.  All she knew for certain was she needed to see Hugh before she made her decision.

“Find who?”  His tone was sharper than before.

“My parents and Gaar.”  She held her tongue on Mirra.  Jethro still hated the Tracker.  There were so many things she couldn’t say around him.  With Hugh, she could say anything.  “We should be quiet.”

He sniffed.  “There’s nothing in here but us and you know it.”

He was right.  The cave smelled of rock and earth, nothing else, just like the other caves.

“You were going to say something else before you lied and said your parents.  Are you involved with someone?”  His tone was angry and slightly hurt.

This wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have.

“Answer me,” he said.

“I may be one of the lower classes, but I don’t belong to you.”

“Don’t start that lower class crap again.  I didn’t make the rules.”

“No, but you enforce them.”  She glared at him over her shoulder.

“It’s not as simple as you think.  There are other issues, other people involved.  You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I do.  There’s always a good reason to do the wrong thing.”

“I...I care for you, a lot.  That should mean something.”

Not enough.  He wasn’t willing to help her change the world—to help her and the others to be treated fairly, to stop her kind from being slaughtered and eaten.  He didn’t really care for her at all.  The tiny bubble of hope, that’d lodged in her chest and grown ever since he’d seen her at the Producer camp and hadn’t reported her, burst like a boil.

“Say something.  Don’t pretend I’m the only one who has feelings involved.”

“Let’s change the subject.”

“No.  Answer my question.”

“Silence it is then.”  She wasn’t going to let him bully her into talking about something she wasn’t ready to discuss.

He pestered her for a while to tell him what she’d been going to say but finally fell silent.  That didn’t last long, but instead of fighting with her he started telling her another story about growing up with Kim.  It was an amusing tale about when they were little and she used to dress him like a girl.  They continued to chat, keeping the subject matter light as they crawled through the cave.  This one was large and her knees and back ached, not to mention her hands were getting scratched up.  She wasn’t looking forward to making the return trip when this tunnel ended at a rock wall like the others had.

She stopped.  There was hint of fresh air.  “Do you smell that?”  She’d quit questioning his sense of smell.  It was good, sometimes better than hers.

“Yeah.  This might actually be a way out.”  His voice held a hint of sadness.

She understood.  Being stuck over here was easier, but her friends, her life was over there and she wanted to see Hugh.

As they continued forward, every now and then one of them would start telling another childhood story but the ease from before was gone.  Everything would change if they made it to the other side of Harbor Point.

“There’s light up ahead.”  She moved faster, excitement overcoming her sadness.  The air got fresher and the light brighter.  They’d found the opening.  She hurried forward.  The tunnel was getting wider.  She couldn’t wait to see Hugh.  He probably wasn’t back at the camp yet, but she’d find him even if she had to ask Meesus for help.  She needed to see him, to touch him.  She’d missed him more than she’d realized.

She crawled out of the tunnel and stood—her back and knees aching in protest.  She glanced around.  This was familiar.  This was home.  She took a deep breath and bent to peer into the opening.  She’d left him behind when she’d picked up her pace.  She hollered into the cave.  “This is it.  We found the right tunnel.”

He crawled through and she helped him to his feet.  He smiled down at her.  Soon, they’d separate and become enemies.  It hurt, but she stepped away.  He’d made his opinion about her clear in the tunnel.

“We should go.”  She couldn’t meet his eyes.  “I’ll escort you back to the Producer camp and then I want Travis released.”

“Wait.”  He grabbed her hand.  “I need you to know that I don’t think of you as lower or less because you’re not an Almighty.”  His hand caressed her cheek.  “You’re so beautiful and...perfect.”  He pulled her close.  “You can slap me if you want, but there’s no way I’m not kissing you.”

She hesitated.  “You’re with me, then?  With us?”

“Always.”  His head dipped toward her.

“Then I won’t slap you.”  She reached up, running her hand through his hair.

His lips met hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tight.  She refused to think about Hugh.  This moment was theirs.  She’d loved him forever and still did.  She wasn’t sure he should be her mate.  She wasn’t sure he even wanted that, but she wanted this—this final moment to live the dreams of her youth.

Someone cleared his throat.  “Uhmm, Jethro.”

She spun around, reaching for her knife.  Jethro grabbed her arm, stopping her.

A young, male Guard stood in the brush.  He looked her up and down.  “You really do have a type.”

“Indy, what are you doing here?”  Jethro pushed her behind him.

A couple of other Guards appeared in the bushes, surrounding them.

“Over here,” yelled one of the Guards.

“We should get out of here.”  There weren’t that many.  She could get past them and so could Jethro, but they had to go now.

His grip tightened on her arm. “Indy, you and the others need—”

An Almighty, dressed in military uniform, pushed through the brush, stepping between the Guards.  “Jethro, we’d almost given up on finding you but good old Indy”—he slapped the young Guard on the back—“swore he’d heard your voice.  Several times, as a matter of fact.  He insisted on staying by Harbor Point, searching for you.  I was sure he was imagining it, but we followed him anyway.”  He sauntered forward, his eyes roaming over her frame.  “Not only was he right, but it seems you’ve succeeded in your quest to capture one of the main players in this little game.”

She would’ve sworn that her heart had been ripped from her chest, but each painful breath proved she was alive.  This had all been a trap.  Everything had been a lie—his kisses, his feelings.  All lies.  She exposed her claws and dug into his arm, tearing at his flesh, her aim to give him a taste of the pain that almost brought her to her knees.

“Shit,” he yelled, letting her go as he turned toward her.

She withdrew her knife and aimed for his heart.  It’d be fitting.  He’d destroyed hers; she’d stab his.  He dodged the blow, but the blade caught his hand, slicing through his palm.  That wasn’t good enough, but before she could strike again, he grabbed her wrist, blocking her thrust and spinning her around, her arm behind her back and her back pressed to his front, squeezing her wrist until she dropped her weapon.

“I need a rope.”  He yanked the backpack down her shoulders and off her arms, letting it fall to the ground.  He unhooked the strap for her knife and sheath, dropping it next to her backpack.

She slammed her head backward, hitting his chin, but he only grunted and tightened his hold.  She kicked and tried to elbow him but it was no use.  He was stronger than her.  It was Troy in the Producer Camp all over again.  She took a deep breath.  She had to calm down or she’d never get away.  There’d be an opening somewhere, sometime and she had to be ready for it.

Indy handed him a rope, he pulled her hands in front of her and tied her wrists together.  She wanted to scream at him, to beg him to explain why he was doing this.  She needed to know what she’d ever done to him, except save his life, but he refused to look at her, focusing instead on his knots.

When she was secured, he tossed her over his shoulders.  “Grab her things and let’s go.”

Indy picked up her knife, belt and backpack.  “We have the Producer.”

“Good,” he said.

She hung upside down, her face against his back and his hand on her thighs.  Tears pooled in her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry.  Not over him.  She’d kill him as soon as she had a chance and even then she wouldn’t shed a tear.

CHAPTER 57:  TRINITY

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THROUGHOUT THE TRIP TO Jethro’s camp, Trinity refused to speak.  Although to be honest, Jethro hadn’t tried to talk to her either except to give her orders.  Eat.  Sleep.  Stay close.  That last command really annoyed her because as much as she hated him, she was glad he was there.  The way some of the Guards and the other Almightys looked at her made the hair stand up on her neck.  If given the chance, they’d take what only she should give.  She now understood what her parents and Hugh had tried to explain.  She was in a very dangerous situation and even though it made her skin almost itch with irritation, Jethro and a few of his Guards were the only things keeping her safe.

During the day Jethro either carried her or made her walk alongside him.  At night, she slept between him and the Guard called Indy.  She’d fall asleep as close to Indy and as far away from Jethro as possible, but every morning she’d wake wrapped in his arms.  Her only joy came from the elbow in the gut she gave him as she rolled away.  If her hands had been untied, she’d have gladly ripped out his throat.

When they arrived at a camp in the middle of the forest, Jethro put her down, not winded in the slightest.  His eyes met hers for a moment.  He seemed sad, but that couldn’t be true.  She had to stop her imagination or he’d used it against her again.  He’d known she’d wanted the friend she’d lost, so he’d tricked her into believing that boy still existed but he’d died the Night of the Trackers along with his father.

“Put her in the cage next to the other one.”  He turned toward another Guard, dismissing her.  “I need to speak with Cal.”

Indy led her to the enclosures in the center of camp.  Both were metal and about eight feet wide and almost as tall.  It’d be spacious for her, but Travis’s head brushed the top of the cage.  The Guard opened the door and she climbed inside.  The floor was also metal, so there’d be no escape that way.  She grasped the bars as the door slammed shut, making her tremble.  The metal was strong.  She wouldn’t be able to break free.

“May I have my backpack?”  She had her lock picking tools in there.

“It’s up to him.”  Indy nodded at Jethro.

Jethro glanced their way.  “Make sure it’s locked.”

“Can you at least untie me?”  If she pushed the backpack issue he’d get suspicious.  She’d try again later.

He nodded at Indy before heading across camp and entering a large tent, her backpack in his hands.

Indy made sure the door was locked and pulled his knife from his belt.  She stuck her hands through the bars and the Guard freed her in one quick slash before following Jethro into the tent.  As soon as he was gone, Travis moved over by her, grasping the bars between the cages.

“Trinity, I’m so sorry,” said Travis.

She couldn’t look at him.  If he’d stayed away from the encampment like she’d told him, neither of them would be here.  She sat in the center of the cage and wrapped her arms around her knees.  This way the Guards couldn’t accidentally touch her.  All they could do was leer at her as they passed.

“Are you okay?  They didn’t hurt you did they?”  Travis was at the edge of his cage, as close to her as possible.

“Leave me alone.”  She was glad he was alive, but all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die which was close to the plans Jethro had for her.  Thankfully, Hugh was safe at a lab somewhere.  Hopefully, he wouldn’t find out about this until it was too late for him to do anything stupid.  He’d told her he’d turn himself in for her.  That he’d sacrifice everything for her, and she’d kissed Jethro.  She was such a fool.  She didn’t deserve Hugh.  She had to do something, anything so he wouldn’t come for her.  If he were caught the war would end.  She couldn’t be the cause of that and she couldn’t be the reason he died.

Indy left the tent, went into another one and came out with a tray of food and water.  He brought it to her cage and pushed it through a small opening at the bottom of the enclosure.  “Jethro said to bring this to you.”

“Thanks.”  She looked at him from under her lashes, smiling slightly.  Flirting couldn’t hurt and it might give her an opportunity to escape.

Indy inhaled sharply, as his eyes glanced down her body.  “I can see the attraction.”  He moved closer and lowered his voice.  “I don’t think anyone else saw”—he glanced around—“the kiss.  You might want to keep it that way.”

“Would talking about it make it harder on me?”

“Don’t know.  It might.”  He nodded at a tent where several other Almightys in uniform stood talking.  “Some of the Almightys have weird thoughts on that kind of stuff.”

“Would it make it harder on Jethro if they found out?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.  I’ll tell the world.”  She smiled, showing her canines.

“I wouldn’t.  He’s the only one protecting you from...”  Indy glanced at the Guards lingering nearby.  “It wouldn’t be smart.”

He walked away, frowning as he stopped outside Jethro’s tent and stood guard.  Jethro was in charge which meant no one was forcing him to do anything.  She glanced at Travis.  Maybe, she could offer to keep quiet if he let Travis go.  She wanted to make life as hard on him as she could, but she had to be practical.  Travis wasn’t a big player in this war.  She was.  Maybe, she could make a deal with the monster that Jethro had become.

CHAPTER 58:  JETHRO

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JETHRO SAT IN HIS tent while Cal blathered on about how they’d relentlessly searched for him and how Cal had refused to give up.  If he didn’t have more important issues to deal with he’d call the other Almighty out on the lies, but he couldn’t afford to make Cal angry.  Not yet.  Not until he figured out what he was going to do.  This entire situation was a disaster.  There was no way he could let Trinity go, not even if he followed through with his plan to capture Mirra.  He’d never wanted anyone besides his four Guards to know he’d ever had Trinity.

Indy popped his head into the tent and nodded.  Trinity had been fed and she’d be safe in the cage.  He tipped his head in understanding and the Guard went back outside to watch the door and Trinity.  He hadn’t been able to say anything to Indy yet, but the Guard wasn’t an idiot.  Indy had seen them kissing.  The big question was had anyone else.  Cal hadn’t said anything so he assumed the Almighty hadn’t seen their embrace, but if someone else did and they told Cal, he’d never convince the other Almighty to leave and he really, really needed Cal to leave camp.

“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” said Cal, finishing his speech on how he’d single-handedly saved Jethro.  “I never thought you’d catch anyone let alone her.  She’s something of a legend with the other classes.”  He sat on the chair across from Jethro.  “How did you catch her?  She’s renowned to be quite evasive in the forest.”

“I chased her down the river.  Servants don’t like the water.”

“After your Guards came begging for my help,”—Cal repeated for the third time—“they followed your scent to the river where they lost all trace of you.  How did you—”

“Raft.”  He’d never admit they’d spent days together.  Cal was a foolish leader but he wasn’t a stupid man.  The sooner the other Almighty was gone the better.  He stood.  “Now that I’m back, there’s nothing keeping you here.”

“Of course.”  Cal stood, pulling a set of keys to the cages from his pocket which he must’ve taken from Jethro’s Guards while Jethro had been missing.  “I’ll take the female and be on my way.”

“She’s mine.”  His words came out low and hard.  He didn’t even try to hide the threat.  He’d kill Cal with his bare hands before he let the man touch one hair on her head, but he couldn’t let the other Almighty know that he cared about her.  “The reward is mine.”  He held out his hand.  “Give me the keys.”

“I assisted.”  Cal dropped the keys into his pocket.

“Gruntshit!  I chased her for days.  The money is mine.”

“I disagree.  We can take her in together and let Jason decide.”

“No.”  Once she was out of the forest, he’d lose her.  He sat down.  “I’m not done with her yet.”

“I hadn’t realized you were one of those, although maybe I should’ve by how close you kept her on the trip here.”  Cal sat across from him, a sly grin on his face.  “Your pal Conguise will be so disappointed if he finds out.”  He leaned forward.  “But don’t worry.  It’ll be our secret.”  He glanced toward the door.  “She is an attractive one.”  He looked back at Jethro.  “I have no problems waiting a day or so.”  He shrugged.  “Send her to my tent when you’re done with her.”

He breathed through his nose, his fists clenching and unclenching on his lap as he focused on why killing Cal right now was a bad idea.  One, the man had too many Guards loyal to him and two, he’d never kill Cal, free Trinity and make it to his mother and sister before the Guards stopped him.  He forced himself to smile.  “I didn’t mean that.  I need her to set another trap.  It’ll take more than a few days.”

“Really?  What are you hunting?”  Cal leaned back in his chair, unaware of how close to death he’d just come.

“Tracker.  The one they call Mirra.”  This should get rid of the other Almighty.  Cal was a coward hiding behind a uniform.

Cal’s face paled but he leaned forward, eyes gleaming.  “You’ll need help.  Your Guards won’t be able to handle a Tracker.  I’m not opposed to sharing that profit as well, although since most of the work will be done by my Guards, we should split it eighty-twenty.  Eighty going to me, of course.”

Damn.  He hadn’t taken Cal’s greed into account.  This wasn’t going to work.

“You need time to think.”  Cal stood.  “And I need a little amusement.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a Servant.”

He shoved the table, hitting Cal mid-thigh.  The other Almighty gasped and bent over, grabbing his legs.

“Stay away from her.  She belongs to me and I’m not sharing anything with you.”

Indy entered the tent, grabbed the pitcher of water, a rag and an almost empty bottle of whiskey from the side table.  “Sir, sorry to interrupt, but we should clean your wounds.”

“My wounds are fine.”  He stepped closer to Cal.  Killing the other Almighty wasn’t smart, but it’d feel so good.

Indy pushed between them, giving Jethro a slight shove with his shoulder.  “A cleaning in the river is not sufficient, sir.  Servant’s claws carry disease.”

“See to your wounds,” said Cal.  “Later, we’ll talk about what you will and will not be sharing with me.”  He strode out of the tent.

Indy shifted, stopping Jethro from following Cal and beating him to a pulp.  “You need to calm down.  You can’t let him know you care for her.”

Indy was right but the thought of Cal touching her or even speaking to her made him want to plant his fist so far into the other man’s gut that it came out the other side.  Indy pushed him toward the chair and he sat.

“She sure did a number on you.”  Indy emptied the alcohol onto the rag and started cleaning Jethro’s hand and arm.

“Ouch.”  The alcohol on the rag was reopening the wounds.

“She’s got spunk.”  Indy grinned.

“You have no idea.”

The Guard’s smile died.  “I think she would’ve killed you.”

His chest constricted, making it hard to breath.  “So do I.”  She’d been aiming for his heart and he didn’t think she’d planned on pulling back at the last minute.  “I need to speak with her.”

“About what?”  Indy’s eyes were wary.

He could trust Indy.  He had to.  He had no one else.  “I can’t turn her over to the authorities.  I won’t.”

“What are you going to do?”  Indy dropped on a chair, the pretense of cleaning his wounds gone.

“I don’t know.  You guys coming across us was a bit of surprise.”

“I’ll say.  You were...busy.”  Indy smiled.  “I had to clear my throat a couple of times before you heard me.”

“Who saw us besides you?”

“No one.  I was ahead of the others.”

“Good.  I trust you.”

“You should.  I owe you my life.”  Indy’s brown eyes were completely serious for once.

He’d already dismissed that debt but the Guard didn’t seem inclined to let it go.  So, he’d use it now.  He needed all the favors he could get.  “I need you to warn my mother and sister.  The Supreme Almighty isn’t going to be happy when he learns I turned Trinity loose.”

“What are you going to do about Cal and his Guards?  If it were only him, I’d say kill him, but he has over fifty Guards here.”

“Kill an Almighty.  Indy, you blaspheme.”  He raised his brow in mock challenge.

“It’s only blasphemous if one of us in the lower classes talks about killing an Almighty.  I’m telling you, an Almighty, to kill one of your own kind.  That’s not blasphemy.  It’s murder.”  Once again, Indy’s eyes sparkled with mischief.  “The way I see it, if you’re going to be a fugitive you might as well be the most wanted one.”  He stood.  “I’m assuming you’re joining the rebellion.”

His heart slowed.  That’d never been his intention.  “I won’t have a choice after I turn her lose.”

“Are you still planning on capturing the Tracker?”

He shrugged.  He wanted Mirra dead but right now saving Trinity was his top priority.  “I’m going to have to set the trap.  Pretend to follow my plan at least until Cal leaves.”

“What if you actually catch the Tracker?”

“I don’t know.”  He hated Mirra but Trinity would never forgive him for hurting the Tracker.  It was going to be hard enough to earn her trust again.  He didn’t need that between them too.

“The Tracker might be enough to get you out of hot water for losing the female Producer or House Servant or whatever she is.”

“She’s a House Servant who was raised with Producers.”  He held up his hand, stopping Indy’s questions.  “I don’t know why.  So, don’t ask.”  He stood.  “I doubt the Tracker will show before I can get rid of Cal.”

“But if she does?”

“I’ll deal with it then.  Right now, I need you to warn my family that I may be in trouble with the authorities and they should leave town for a while.  That’ll give me time to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“May be in trouble.”  Indy snorted his disbelief and left.

He dropped onto the chair.  He had to come up with another plan in case Cal didn’t leave, but all he could think about was the hurt in her eyes.  It’d torn him apart.  The entire trip back to camp, he’d wanted to explain, to beg her to trust him but there’d been too many ears around to take the risk.

He picked up her backpack from where he’d tossed it.  Returning it would give him an excuse to talk to her.  Maybe, if no one was around he could let her know that this was all an act.  He stepped outside his tent and stopped.  She sat in the center of the cage with her arms wrapped around her knees and her head down.  The food was still on the tray, untouched.  She looked lost and defeated.  He’d done that to her.  She glanced up, turning her head as if she could feel his gaze.  She glared at him, hatred making her beautiful golden eyes as hard as topaz.

He had to explain, to give her hope.  He strode to her enclosure and opened the backpack.

“Give me that.”  She moved to the front of the cage.

“I will as soon as I remove your weapons.”  He met her eyes as he pulled out two small knives.

“You found them.  Now, give it to me.”  She bit her lip and her eyes kept darting to the backpack.

“In a minute.”  There had to be something else.  She was too anxious.  As he moved aside her bag of herbs, his fingers passed over a hidden pocket.  He opened it and grinned as he removed two long, thin pieces of metal, holding them up for her to see.  “What’s this?”

“Okay.  You found everything.”  She reached through the bars of the cage.  “Can I please have my stuff now?”

He slipped the lock picks into his pocket and slid the knives into his belt.  “Hmm.  You still seem kind of eager.  Is there something else in here I should know about?”  He glanced at her again.  At least she was talking to him now.  “I’d better double check.”

“There’s nothing else in there except clothes and food so look all you want.”  She moved to the center of the cage and sat.

He frowned as he shoved her clothes aside.  This wasn’t any fun with her ignoring him.  He pulled out her notepad and she flew across the cage.

“Give me that.  It’s mine.”  She clung to the cage, one of her hands extending through the bars and trying to grasp the notebook.

He took a step back, looking at the pad of paper.  It was the one he’d given her.  A spark of happiness zipped through his veins.  It was old and it’d seen better days, but she’d kept it all these years.  He opened it, careful with the pages.  The trip down the waterfall caused many of them to stick together.  He struggled to keep his face impassive as he looked at drawing after drawing.  She’d been a horrible artist almost five years ago, but the images improved as he moved through the book.  “You’ve gotten really good.”  He turned another page.  “I think you’re better than I am.”

“Stop looking at that.  It’s mine.  Give it to me.”  She squeezed the bars of the cage, her knuckles white.

He stilled for a moment.  It was her book, but why did she care if he saw the drawings?  Did she have images of her camp in here?  If so, this was perfect.  He looked at her.  “Trust me.  Whatever’s in here”—he flipped another page—“it’ll stay between you and me.”

“Please, give me the book.  Please.”  There were tears in her eyes.

He lowered his voice.  “It’ll be okay.  You have to trust me.”  He turned another couple of pages and couldn’t stop his smile.  There were pictures of him, a lot of pictures.  He glanced up at her.  “Is this what you didn’t want me to see?”

Her face paled and she nodded.  “Yes.  Now, give it to me.”

“I’m glad you thought about me.”  He turned another few pages.  The fact that he’d been on her mind this much made him almost grin.  It was only fair.  He’d thought about her over the years.  He flipped past a section of blank pages and then there was a picture of Hugh.  He turned another page and there was Hugh again by a tent.  His hand trembled as the relief and hope he’d felt only moments before disappeared.  In the tunnel, she’d refused to tell him who she’d wanted to see as soon as she got back home.  The answer to that question was right here all sketched out in perfect lines.  He turned the pages faster.  By the skill level, these were her most recent drawings and they were all of Hugh, image after image of him—smiling, smirking, standing, sitting in a tree.  She might as well title this section, “Hugh Truent The Man I Want”.  It was clear from the drawings that he’d never had a chance with her, not once Hugh had shown up.  Jealousy filled him, fighting with anger and hurt for control.

“So, this is who you wanted to rush back to see?”  The reason she’d stopped his kisses.  Anger shoved jealousy aside as if it were a dried, fall leaf on a winter’s breeze.  He’d been ready to risk everything for her—his family, his honor, his life—and she was in love with Hugh.  He raised his eyes as he closed the book.  “I don’t think Viola intended for you to take her fiancé when she switched places with you.”

Her eyes widened in shock before narrowing.  “I hate you.  I’ll hate you forever for this.”

The urge to grab her and pull her to him, to show her she belonged to him, made his hands tremble.  It’d be foolish to do that front of everyone.  He shoved the backpack through the bars and turned, striding to his tent, her notebook crumpled in his hand.  He tossed it on the table and went to his footlocker.  He grabbed a full bottle of whiskey and took a long swallow.  He should turn her over to Jason.  She’d never be his.  She’d proven that when they’d been on the other side of Harbor Point.  He dropped onto a chair and took another long pull on the bottle.  She’d teased him with her kisses all the while she’d planned on running to Hugh as soon as she could.  The thought of the other man sent anger rippling through him.  Hugh had been with Viola and now Hugh had Trinity.  Jethro took another drink.  When he’d been younger he’d had a crush on Viola, nothing real, but still Hugh had been with her too.  Well, Hugh couldn’t have Trinity.  She was his.  His!

He strode to the door.  She was once again sitting in the middle of the cage, head on her knees.  He took another drink.  She glanced up, as if feeling his eyes on her.  Tears had cleaned paths down her cheeks and there was a slight twinge near his heart.  He shoved it aside.  He wouldn’t feel bad for making her cry.  She deserved that for letting him think he had a chance, letting him hold her every night while they slept.  He tipped the bottle in her direction and took another swallow.  She glared at him before putting her head back on her knees.  She may not realize it yet, but she belonged to him.  He even had her in his cage to prove it.  He continued to watch her, unable to stop.  He should capture Hugh.  Then she’d have no choice other than him.  He laughed.  That was the stupidest thing he’d ever thought.  She’d never forgive him if he captured Hugh, Gaar or Mirra.  He took another drink.  Of course, her forgiveness didn’t matter any longer.  He didn’t want friendship from her.  That’d never be enough, but he didn’t want her dead either which meant he couldn’t turn her in or leave her with Cal.  He exhaled, letting some of the hurt and anger go with the air.  He was going to be a fool and ruin his life for a female who didn’t want him.  Nothing could change that and nothing would make it better.  Well, this would.  He took another drink and stared at the bottle in his hand.  That was it.  If he couldn’t get rid of Cal and his Guards, he’d get them drunk.

CHAPTER 59:  JETHRO

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JETHRO WAS SITTING AT the table when Cal stormed into the tent as if he owned the place.

“You cannot summon me.”  Cal stared down at Jethro, his lips curved in a sneer.  “I’m still your commanding—”

“I’ve considered your offer and I agree to share the reward for Trinity’s capture.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.”  The tension left Cal’s shoulders as he sat across from Jethro.  “Between her and the Tracker we’ll both have a nice little sum.  Eighty-twenty, right?”

“Sixty-forty.  Sixty for me.”  He couldn’t make it too easy or Cal would be suspicious and he needed the captain happy, not wary.  He’d caught Indy before the Guard had left to warn his mother and sister and had instructed him to bring back booze and plenty of it.

“No.  You’ll be using my Guards—”

“It’s my plan and without the prisoner, who I captured without your help, there won’t be a Tracker.”

“Seventy-thirty.  Seventy for me.”

He pretended to consider it and then shook his head.  “I have to get at least forty percent.”

“Sixty-forty then. Forty for you.”  Cal could barely contain his grin.

He stared at the other man for several moments before nodding.  “Your Guards will follow my orders.”

“Yeah, sure.”  Cal stood.  “We should get the Guards started on the trap.”

“About that, they deserve a day off.”

“A day off?  They’re Guards.  They don’t get days off.”

“I disagree.  They’ve worked hard for weeks now.  Many may not live through the capture of the Tracker.”  His eyes met Cal’s.  “She may arrive with the Handler and...that’ll make things difficult.”  That was an understatement.

“I hadn’t considered the Handler.”  Cal sat back down, his face paling.  “They’re still together?”

“Yes.”  He had no idea if the two were together but according to legend a bonded pair never broke.  He glanced out the door at Trinity.  She was still in the center of her cage, her breakfast uneaten beside her.  He had to do something soon or she’d make herself sick from lack of food.

Cal shifted in his seat.  “Perhaps, we should skip the Handler and Tracker.  We could focus on Hugh Truent.  He’s worth more.”

“There’s no guarantee Hugh will come for her.”  He barely kept from snarling.  Hugh would move the moon to save her.  Hugh was a male and if Trinity had feelings for him, they were returned.

“Are you kidding?  He saved the Guards.  He’ll try to save her.”

“One trap at a time.”  He didn’t want Hugh anywhere near her.  He was going to have a hard enough time convincing her to forgive him.  He didn’t need Hugh around to confuse her feelings.  “If Hugh is captured, the war is over.  No more bounty.”

“You think?”  Cal shook his head.  “Nah.  I’m sure Jason would still pay for the head of a Tracker or Handler.”

So was he, but he shrugged.  “Are you willing to risk it?  Plus, as soon as we capture Hugh, we’ll have to go into town.  He’s too big of a fish to risk as bait in a trap.  And once she’s turned over to the Supreme Almighty, the Handler and Tracker will disappear and that money will be gone.”

“Hmm.  You could be right.  Okay.  Tracker, Handler and then Hugh.”  Cal held out his hand.

Jethro wanted to break the man’s arm but he shook hands instead.  “You should inform Jason of our success and our plans.  I’ll wait until you return to set the trap.”  This would give Cal the opportunity to take all the credit.

“After the celebration.”  Cal smiled and headed for the door.  “I could use a day off too.”

He scrambled for a reason Cal should leave today, but his mind went blank.

CHAPTER 60:  JETHRO

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A FEW DAYS LATER, Jethro gathered everyone together outside the mess tent.  “We were successful in capturing this escaped Producer and this House Servant.”  He pointed at Travis and then at Trinity, ignoring her glare.  “She’s the one who was raised with the Producers.  The bounty on her head is substantial.”  He paused for effect.  “Alive, she’s worth one ounce of thermite dust.”

Trinity gasped as whispers flew through the crowd.

“Yesterday, I agreed to share the reward with Captain Folgrant.”  He hesitated again.  Cal wasn’t going to like this part which made it especially fun for him.  “Since every one of you had some part in her capture, we agreed to give you each a share.”

The Guards roared their approval.  Cal stiffened and his face reddened, but he remained silent.  Even the captain wasn’t stupid enough to disagree in front of the Guards.  They were raised to put up with a lot of abuse, but they’d revolt if the money was promised and not given.  He shifted a bit.  He wasn’t going to be popular when he let her escape.

After the Guards quieted, he continued, “However, she’s not the only one worth a fortune.  She has friends.  I’m particularly interested in two of them—a Tracker and Handler who have a bad habit of coming to her rescue.”

There were murmurs throughout the crowd.  Many Guards glanced into the surrounding forest as if the Tracker and Handler waited nearby.

“I know they’re dangerous and many of you didn’t anticipate a task such as this, but lucky for us, unlike her”—he nodded toward Trinity—“and Hugh Truent, the Supreme Almighty doesn’t care if the Trackers and Handlers are delivered dead.”

There were whispers of relief from the Guards.

He looked at Trinity.  It was a mistake.  She was pale and the pain in her eyes when she met his gaze almost made him take a step backward.  She truly hated him right now.  Not anger.  Not disgust.  Hate.  His heart slammed against his chest with the desire to go to her and explain but instead he straightened and looked over the crowd, holding his hand up to silence the whispers.  The Guards were still worried and he didn’t blame them.  Mirra and Gaar weren’t going to be easy to capture.  His father was proof of that.  “We shall set a trap for them.  In honor of those killed during the Night of the Trackers.”

There were some yells of approval but mostly the voices were worried.  This wouldn’t work.  He needed them cocky and excited.

“I know you’re concerned.  Trackers and Handlers are dangerous, but so are we.  We fought and won against Cold Creepers.”

A group of younger Guards yelled in agreement.

“We defeated a village of Stockers and left none of our soldiers behind.”  He punched himself on the chest.  “We are dangerous.  We are fighters.  We are warriors.”  It was working.  With each declaration, the Guards were getting more and more frenzied.

“There are more Trackers and Handlers than the two I mentioned.  For each one we catch we earn a half ounce of thermite dust and I do mean we.  Every one of you will risk your life for these captures, so Captain Folgrant and I agreed that we’ll split the bounty evenly amongst us all.”

The Guards roared, their unease gone with the promise of riches.  Cal turned and stormed into his tent.

This might be enough to send Cal scurrying into town to tattle.  He faced the crowd again.  “Tomorrow night, we set the trap, but today...today is for celebrating.”

Indy and two of Jethro’s other Guards moved through the crowd handing out bottles.

“There is food”—he pointed to the large tent behind him—“and more booze and...some females.”  Indy had gone above and beyond orders by bringing some of Lola’s girls back to camp with him.  The Guards would be busy and tired tonight.  “Enjoy your day off.  Tomorrow, we catch a Tracker.”

CHAPTER 61:  JETHRO

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JETHRO DOUBLE CHECKED HIS bag, making sure all his serum was packed.  He usually left some behind just in case, but this time he wouldn’t be coming back.  If it didn’t make him so weak, he’d take a shot now.  It’d give him another month of mobility.  He wasn’t sure what he’d do when all four vials were gone.  He supposed he’d raid Conguise’s house if he had to.  He’d do anything to not lose his ability to walk, anything but hurt Trinity.

A loud burst of laughter drew his attention outside.  It was time to go back and join the Guards.  Drink a little more.  Act social.  He ran his hand over his face, trying to wake up as he left his tent and sat on a log next to a group of Guards.  He was glad it was late and the celebration was dying down.  Most of the Guards and Almightys had eaten and drank their fill and were now sleeping it off in their tents.  Soon, he could free Trinity and they’d make their escape.

Duke leaned back, taking a swallow from the bottle, and fell off the log.  Indy grabbed the bottle and handed it to Jethro.  He took a small sip.  He couldn’t afford to drink much.  The alcohol was affecting him more than usual due to his lack of sleep.  He’d spent the last few days watching over Trinity.  While Indy had been in town, there’d been no one else who he’d trusted with the task, but it hadn’t been fear of her escape that’d kept him guarding her all evening.  Cal had the other key and had been spending too much time talking to her and bringing her gifts—fruit, a blanket, clean water.  His gaze drifted to the enclosures and his hand tightened on the bottle as he stood.  That son-of-a-bitch was at it again.  Cal hid in the shadows on the side of the cage talking to Trinity.  This stopped now.  He took a large gulp of the whiskey and handed the bottle to Indy.

“Don’t,” said Indy, looking at Cal and Trinity.  “She’s fine.”

The captain offered her a bottle of alcohol.  She reached through the bars, her long fingers caressing Cal’s hand as she accepted the liquor.  She took a small swallow and coughed.  Cal chuckled and said something low and soft.  She glanced down and smiled.

“Let it go.”  Indy jumped up, grabbing Jethro’s arm.  “She’s in the cage.  He can’t do anything.”

“She’s mine.”  He broke free from the Guard and strode across the camp.  She was his.  Not Hugh’s.  Not the Supreme Almighty’s and not Cal’s.

“He’s only talking to her.  Don’t do anything stupid.”  Indy staggered after him.

He stopped only inches away from Cal.  “Leave her.”  He’d crush the man’s skull if Cal touched her again.

“She wants to go to my tent.”  Cal’s fingers fumbled from too much alcohol as he attempted to pull his key from his pocket.  “Don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes.”  She looked straight at Jethro, her eyes shining like emeralds in the dim light.

“You’ll have to kill me first.”  He shoved Cal out of his way.

“No problem.  Open the door.”  Her smile and tone were sweet, but her eyes sparked with hatred.

He didn’t need to glance behind him to know they’d drawn the attention of all the Guards who were still awake.  “As you wish.”  He pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the cage.  He held out his hand.  Her eyes darted to the forest and his muscles tensed.  Run.  Go.  She’d make it without any problems and he could grab his things and follow on a pretense of catching her.  They’d easily out run the drunken Guards.

She exhaled, her shoulders sagging as her gaze landed on her Producer friend.  “I’m not going with you.”  She faced Cal.  “I’m going with him.”

“See.  I told you.”  Cal pushed past Jethro, his hand reaching for her.

“She’s mine.”  He grabbed Cal by the throat, lifting him off the ground and tossing him into the air.  Before Cal could fall, Jethro punched him in the face.

Cal flew several feet before hitting the ground and skidding another few inches.  There were a few drunken claps of appreciation from some of the Guards and a low groan from Indy.

“You bastard!”  Cal scrambled to his feet, his hand covering his face as blood poured between his fingers.  “You broke my nose.  This is insubordination.  I’m your superior officer.  I’m reporting this.”  He staggered toward his tent.

“Why did you do that?”  Indy shot Jethro a dirty look.  “Can’t you control your temper, just once?  Just once.”  He snatched a bottle of whiskey from a sleeping Guard and trailed after Cal, a bottle in each hand.  “Captain Cal, wait.”

Thanks to his little fight, there were now more Guards watching them.  They’d be talking about this for hours which meant he had longer to wait before he could free Trinity and her friend but he wasn’t leaving her out here.  She belonged to him and the rest of these fools needed to stay away from her.

He turned toward the cage and extended his hand again.  “Come with me.”

“No.  You can beat up everyone here, but I still won’t be yours.”

He wanted to prove to her that she belonged with him that she wanted to be his, but instead he shrugged.  “Believe what you want.”  He paused, his eyes locking with hers.  “But you will come with me.  One way or another.”  Forcing her went against everything he’d been taught, but he’d do it to keep her safe.

“Trinity,” whispered Travis.

She turned toward the Producer who was shaking his head slightly.  “I’ll be fine.”  She slipped her backpack over her shoulders.

“Give me your hands.”  He grabbed the piece of rope that hung outside her cage.  He was in no mood to get clawed.

“Is that really necessary?”  She held out her hands.

“Knowing you?  Yeah.”  He tied the rope around her wrists and took her arm as she hopped out of the enclosure.  She glanced up at him from under her lashes and a shiver ran across his skin.  She was flirting and since she hadn’t forgiven him that meant she was up to something, but she’d never get away from him.  He was stronger and faster than she was.  As long as he kept her from the trees, she was his and they’d be alone in his tent until everyone was asleep.  He led her across camp, anticipating the next few hours more than he’d anticipated anything in his life.

CHAPTER 62:  TRINITY

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TRINITY HATED THE GUARDS and their rude comments.  She hated Jethro.  She hated that her parents and Hugh had been right about her vulnerability around a group of males, but mostly she hated that she’d been such a fool and if she didn’t fix this, it’d be her fault Gaar and Mirra would be captured and killed.  She took a deep breath as she stepped inside his tent.  There was no turning back.  She held up her hands.  “Now that we’re alone, can you untie me?”

Jethro stared down at her, his eyes searching hers for something, but she’d die before she gave herself away.

“You think I’m going to try and escape?  There are at least twenty Guards watching this tent now.”

“I find it hard to believe you’d be concerned about twenty, drunken Guards.”

“I’m not.”  Lying to him about this would make him more suspicious.  “But I won’t leave Travis.”  She scanned the tent, becoming familiar with her surroundings.  It was small—a table with two chairs, a trunk, a large pallet on the floor, and a water basin and pitcher for bathing.

“I’m surprised you haven’t concocted some sort of...ill-advised scheme to free him.”  He continued to watch her closely.  “You’ve had days to do nothing but think.”

“I’ve tried to come up with one.  Trust me, but I haven’t figured out how to get the keys or my lock picks from you without my weapons.”  She tipped her head toward the door.  Her knife and sheath hung on a hook nearby.  They were close, but he was fast.  She had to stick with her plan.  “And if I did manage to get either of them, I’d still have to avoid the Guards while freeing Travis.”  She moved a step closer to him.  “Then, we’d have to flee through the forest and although I’d make it, Travis wouldn’t and, like I said, I won’t leave him.”  She forced herself to meet his eyes.  “So for right now, I’m stuck here and as much as I hate you, I’d rather be with you than out there with that group of Guards.”

“What about Cal?”  A muscle twitched in his cheek.

“What about him?”  If she’d made it to Cal’s tent it would’ve been so much easier.  She could’ve played the weak, subservient, female House Servant and Cal would’ve believed every second, until it was too late.  Jethro wouldn’t be so easy to fool.

“Why did you want to go to his tent?”  He stepped closer to her.  “Figured you’d kill him and escape, didn’t you?”

She remained silent at first and then shrugged.  “He does have a key.”

He smiled and then his face grew serious.  “I’m not weak.  You know that.”  He grabbed her hands and pulled a knife from the sheath at his side, slitting the rope around her wrists.  “Don’t try to escape or attack me.  You won’t like the outcome.”  He strode over to the trunk and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.  He walked to the table, put the items down and held out a chair.  “Please, have a seat.”

She moved cautiously across the tent and sat, rubbing her wrists where the rope had pinched her flesh.  She didn’t drink much.  She’d seen too many friends, especially Sassy, incapacitated from alcohol.  Getting like that was dangerous, but a drink or two could steady her nerves and tonight, they needed steadying.

He took her hand in his.  She pulled back at first and then stopped.  She had to get used to his touch.  There was going to be a lot more of it later.

“It’s going to be a long night.  You might as well get comfortable.”  He pulled the backpack from her shoulders and tossed it over by the bed.  He took her hand again, his fingers caressing the red welt on her skin.  “I’d kill whoever did this to you.”  He smiled.  “Except, it was me.”

“You could still kill him.”  She grinned, but she was afraid it was more a baring of her teeth than a smile.

“I think I’ll let him off with a warning.”  He dropped her hand and sat down across from her.  “He’ll be punished enough by you, I’m sure.”  He poured whiskey in both glasses and slid one across the table.

He had no idea how right he was.  She was going to make him pay for his betrayal.  She picked up the glass and took a large gulp.  She coughed, gasping for air as a fire burned a trail into her belly.

He moved away from the table and returned with a cup of water.  “Here.  Drink this.”

She took a sip.  It soothed the burn in her throat.  “Thanks.”  Immediately, she regretted the word.  She owed him nothing, not even gratitude.

He sat back down and took a swallow of his own drink.  He opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it, glancing at the door.  He leaned across the table.  “You have to believe that I’d never hurt you.”  His blue eyes stared into hers, seeming sincere.  “Ever.”

Her heart softened a bit and she tamped down her tender feelings.  He’d lied to her, betrayed her and was going to use her to capture her friends.  “Right.”

He leaned back, a hint of pain in his gaze.  Good.  He deserved all the pain she could inflict and she was about to give him a lot.  All she had to do was stall until the Guards passed out or went into their tents.  It shouldn’t be long.  They were all pretty drunk.  She took another sip of her drink.  It went down smoother this time, so she had some more.  It was making her warm and giving her courage.

“You may want to slow down on that.”

“I’ve drank before.”  She took another larger gulp to annoy him.

“Okay.”  He sounded smug which irritated her even more.

“Cal was going to let me wash up.”  It was time to start her plan.

He snorted and coughed, choking on his drink.  Maybe, he’d choke to death and she wouldn’t have to go through with this.  His coughing subsided.  She frowned.  It was just like him to be so disagreeable.

“Did you honestly believe that was all he was going to do?”  He was angry now, but she didn’t care.

She shrugged.  “I figured I’d worry about the rest later.  Like I said, he’s weak.”  She plucked at her shirt, accentuating her breasts.  “And I haven’t bathed in days.  I stink.”  She brushed her shirt and dust billowed out around her.  “Can I wash up?”  Please.”

His eyes were on her chest and her face heated.  It was what she’d wanted, but the desire in his gaze was making her blood hum.  She had to remember that he wasn’t the boy she’d known or even the man he’d pretended to be on the other side of Harbor Point.  He was her enemy.  She hated him, but that didn’t make her any less nervous.  If she didn’t time this right, she’d be doing things with him that she’d never done.

“Please, Jethro.”  She reached across the table and touched his hand.  It was only a small gesture but his eyes darkened even more as he raised them to her face.

He grunted and stood, walking across the room.  He grabbed a blanket off the bed and carried it to the basin of water.  He strung it up, creating a makeshift curtain.  “Behind here.  The water is fresh.”

“Thank you.”  She stood, almost knocking the chair over in her haste.  She could do this.  She could.  She had to.  She took a step and stopped.  “My clean clothes are in my backpack.”

He walked over to his bed and picked it up.  He held it out to her.  She took a deep breath and glided over to him, her eyes darting to the large pile of blankets on the floor.  They looked soft and comfortable, like she could sink into them and go to another world.  When she looked back at him, he seemed almost in pain.  It went against who she was, but she reminded herself why she hated him and how she didn’t care if she hurt him.  She took the backpack.

His fingers captured hers.  “Trinity,” he whispered.

“Don’t.  Don’t act like you care.”  She jerked her hand free and stumbled backward.  She shouldn’t have said it.  It didn’t fit with her plan, but the words were out now.

“I...I...please.”  His eyes darted to the door.  “Trust me.”  His voice was so low, she almost didn’t hear it.

“Hah.  Even I’m not that big of a fool.”  She turned and hurried to the curtain before she cried.  She shouldn’t feel anything for him except hatred, but she did.

She heard more liquor being poured in a glass as she stripped off her clothes.  They were unrepairable, filthy and torn.  She kicked them out of her way as she dipped a washrag in the water and shivered.  It was cold but better than nothing.  She ran the cloth over her body washing away the sweat and grime.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I should’ve offered you the chance to clean up as soon as we arrived.  I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you were planning.”  She couldn’t hide the sadness in her voice but that was okay.  He knew he’d hurt her.  If she pretended otherwise, he’d be suspicious.

His footsteps moved toward her.  “We can’t talk now, but I need you to trust me,” he whispered before moving back to the table.

He sounded so sad and sincere.  Perhaps, he was still her friend and she could trust him.  She forced those thoughts aside.  They weren’t from her gut or her instincts.  They were from her stupid, soft heart.  Mirra had warned her that her heart would get her into trouble one day and she’d been fine with that.  She had to be true to herself, but this time if she listened to her heart and was wrong, her friends would pay the price not her.

She dropped the cloth in the basin and put on her clean underwear and shirt.  She dug in her backpack, shoving her pants aside, and pulled out her bag of herbs.  She opened it and grabbed the vial that Meesus had given her.  Her hands shook as she opened the bottle.  She had to do it.  It was the only chance she had to escape with Travis.  She coated her claws with the potion and waved her hands until it dried.  She dropped the vial back in with her herbs and stuffed it into her backpack, pushing it underneath her pants.  She slipped her shoes and socks into her backpack and took a deep breath.  She couldn’t delay any longer.  She stepped from behind the curtains, tugging on the bottom of her shirt, trying to cover more of her legs, but there wasn’t enough cloth.

Jethro inhaled sharply and leaned against the table as his eyes caressed the length of her bare legs.

“I want to make you an offer.”  She clutched her backpack to her chest.  “Let Travis leave and don’t go after Mirra, Gaar or...anyone else.”  Her instincts warned that mentioning Hugh would be a mistake.

“Keep your voice down.  The Guards are drunk, not deaf.”  He glanced at the door, as two Guards passed nearby.

Her hands trembled but she forced herself to put her backpack down.  She moved until she was only a few inches away from him.  “Please.  Let Travis go,” she whispered as she ran her finger down his cheek and across his lips.  “Leave the others alone.”

He caught her hand before she could move it and kissed her palm.  “And what do I get in return?”

“Me,” she whispered.  “You can have me.”

CHAPTER 63:  JETHRO

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JETHRO COULDN’T THINK—HIS mind dizzy with the scent and sight of her.  His eyes roamed down her long, long legs.  He had no idea what game she was playing and he didn’t care.  He’d play.

She pulled her hand free from his and unhooked the top button of her shirt, exposing more of her smooth skin.  “Please, Jethro.  Promise you’ll let Travis go.”  She lowered her gaze.  “I’ll do anything you want.”

His heart pounded so loud he was surprised the Guards outside didn’t hear it.  This couldn’t be happening.  Not now.  They needed to leave as soon as the Guards passed out and he didn’t want her like this, on a deal.  She unbuttoned another button.  Who was he kidding?  He wanted her however he could have her.

“Agreed.”  His voice was hoarse.

A slight tremor went through her, as if she were surprised he’d accepted her offer.  He wanted to grab her and throw her on the bed.  Make her his right now, but he had to make their first time special.  This was his chance to prove to her that she belonged with him not Hugh.

She took a step toward the bed and he grabbed her arm, fighting the urge to pull her to him.

“Shouldn’t we...”  She waved at the pallet on the floor.

The smell of fear wafted from her.  He didn’t want her frightened.  “This isn’t a game.”  He tipped her chin up so she met his gaze.  “Are you sure?”  He wanted her so badly that if she changed her mind, he’d die.  No, he’d drop to his knees and beg, weep even, anything to get her to consent.

“You agreed to let—”

“Keep your voice down.”  He couldn’t afford to have the Guards become suspicious.  They’d probably think that anything he said to her was a lie to coax her into his bed, but he couldn’t take that chance.

She lowered her voice to barely a whisper.  “If you promise on your father and mother that you’ll let Travis go and not hunt any of my other friends, then...I’m yours.”  She straightened as if on the way to her execution.  “You can do whatever you want to me.  Turn me over to the authorities.  Kill me—”

“Worship you.”  He took her hand, his fingers caressing her soft skin.  She trembled at his touch.  “You have no reason to be afraid of me.  I’d never hurt you.”

“I’m not.”  She averted her eyes.

He kissed the pulse point on her wrist.  “Then what are you afraid of?”  He could smell her fear, it was covering his lust.  He wanted her, but he wanted her willing.

“It doesn’t matter.  I said you could have me.”  She tugged on her hand but he refused to free her.  “Unless you don’t want me.”

“I want you more than I should.”  He pulled her close.  “More than you’d understand.”

She stared into his eyes, hers still frightened.  “Then we have a deal?”

“If you tell me why you’re frightened?”  A twinge of conscience poked at him.  He should confess his plan, but she was offering what he wanted.  What he’d fantasized about for years.  If he let her go she may never speak to him again and it wasn’t like he was lying.  He was going to do exactly as she asked.

She tipped her head, avoiding his eyes.  “I’ve never”—she waved her hand about—“you know...”

That wasn’t possible.  He had to be misunderstanding her.  “What?  What have you never done?”

“This...you know...mate.”  She flushed a deep red.

“Really?”  He tipped her chin up with his fingers.  “Not even with Hugh?”  As soon as he said the name, he knew he’d erred.  Her eyes hardened, shooting hatred at him.

“No.  He wanted to wait.”

“He’s a fool.”  A surge of desire raged through him as he lowered his face to hers.  He’d be her first and her only.

She trembled as his lips met hers and he stopped.

He had to make this good for her and that meant helping her to relax and taking it slow.  He stepped away and sat down at the table.  His hand shook as he lifted the bottle of whiskey and refilled the glasses.  “Have another drink.”

She tossed back the whiskey.  He’d never seen anything sexier than her throat as it worked to swallow the liquid.  He’d seen naked women—beautiful, naked women—but they were nothing compared to her.  She stared at him, waiting for him to make the first move.  He should.  He wanted to.  He would, but he didn’t.  If he did this now, like this, it might ruin any chance they had and he wanted more than one night.  He didn’t care that society and his father said it was wrong.  None of that mattered.  All that mattered was that she was his.

CHAPTER 64:  TRINITY

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TRINITY WANTED TO STAMP her foot in annoyance.  This shouldn’t be so hard.  He may have lied about a lot of things, but he did find her attractive.  From her understanding, males would mate with any willing female, especially attractive ones.  So why was he just sitting there?  They needed to get on with this.  She had no idea how long the stuff on her claws would be potent.  She should’ve asked Meesus more questions but she hadn’t thought she’d ever use it.

He continued to stare at her, his gaze hot.  If he wasn’t going to do something she would.  She put the glass on the table and moved to stand between his legs.  She glanced down, and swallowed.  She’d hoped to cut him while they were kissing but it looked like she’d have to go further than she’d planned.  Her hands shook as she touched the next button on her shirt.  It was located between her breasts.  Once undone, she’d be exposed.  Her face heated with embarrassment, not excitement.  She could not, would not be attracted to him.  Her fingers trembled but she managed to unhook the button.

His breathing was labored as he grabbed her hands, stopping her from letting go of the shirt.  “If we do this you’re mine.”

She stared straight into his eyes.  For once she had to be a convincing liar.  She couldn’t let him doubt.  “Yes.  Tonight.”

“If we do this, you’re mine forever.”  His gaze was fierce.

She inhaled sharply.  If the potion didn’t work quickly enough, or didn’t work at all, she’d end up mating with him.  Could she make that promise?  Could she break that promise?  She had no choice.  She nodded and before she knew what’d happened she was on his lap and he was kissing her.  His lips were warm and coaxing as his hands roamed up and down her back, sending shivers traipsing over her skin.  She leaned against him, her hands wandering up his chest.  He was so hard and strong and warm.  His lips moved to her neck and she moaned.  She couldn’t help it.  It felt so good, so right.  She shouldn’t want this, but she did.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her ear.  “You were made for me.”  He stared at her until she opened her eyes.  “Me and no one else.”

His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her like she was his life, his salvation.  She didn’t want to feel anything, but her body softened under his touch.  He pulled her closer and ran his hands down her shoulders, taking the shirt with him.  She had no idea when he’d unbuttoned it the rest of the way.  She had to stay focused.  She couldn’t get lost in the feelings, but oh what feelings he stirred inside her.  She had to slow this down or she’d do something she wasn’t ready to do.  Not with him.  Never with him.  He was her enemy.  She had to remember that, but her body didn’t want to believe it.  She pushed against his chest.  He let her go.  She stood, her breath coming in gasps.  He stared at her breasts, his eyes black with desire.  She blushed.

He took her hand and gently tugged her toward him.  He let go of her and his hands wandered up the outside of her thighs to her hips.  He started to push down her underwear.

“Wait.”  She couldn’t go that far.  Not if she didn’t have to.

He took her hand again, pulling her closer.  His knees were in her way, but he tugged again.  She flushed even more as she stepped forward, straddling his legs.  He leaned up and kissed her as he eased her downward onto his lap.  She struggled to think, to remember why she hated him.  Why what they were doing was wrong.

He must’ve sensed her unease, for he stopped and took a deep breath.  “This is going to kill me, but we need to slow down.”

She stiffened a bit.  It’s what she wanted but she had no idea why he wanted that.

His hands roamed up and down her back, soothing the tension away.  “This is your first time and I promise I’ll make it good for you, but we need to go slow.  Okay?”

Her face was on fire.  She’d never discussed this with anyone, even her mother.  There’d been no reason.  They’d both known she wouldn’t be chosen to breed and once she’d escaped, she’d been too busy surviving or fighting with her mom to talk about mating.

He ran a finger down her cheek.  “You’re even lovelier when you blush, but there’s no reason to be embarrassed.  Not with me.  Never with me.”

Her heart melted at his words and when he kissed her again she couldn’t stop from running her hands through his hair.  It was short, but thick and soft.

“I’ll be your first.”  He shifted her on his lap.  “And your last.”  He stood, lifting her in his arms and carrying her across the room.  “Your only.”

He placed her on the blankets on the floor and lay down, leaning over her.  She tugged on his shirt.  She wanted...no needed to run her fingers over his bare skin.  She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.  She had to remember the plan.  She moaned as he kissed a sensitive spot on her neck.  Meesus had said to act like she was lost to passion.  She was a little afraid she wouldn’t be acting.  He pulled his shirt off and leaned over her again, kissing her.  This one was long and deep and dark.  His skin was hot against hers and his weight pressing her into the blankets felt better than anything she’d ever experienced.  She wanted to touch him everywhere.  He groaned as she ran her hands down his back, so she did it again.  She was in charge, at least for this moment.  He buried his face in her neck and she shivered, a soft whimper coming from her throat.  He nipped her ear and she arched up against him digging her claws into his shoulders.

He half-laughed, half-groaned and said, “Do that again, but not so hard.”

Her breath caught.  She’d done it.  Clawed him.  “I...I’m sorry.”

He nibbled her ear.  “Don’t be.  I like it.  Do it again.  Please.”  His lips found hers as he reached between them to unbutton his pants.

Panic warred with passion, her body fighting her mind.  If they didn’t stop soon, it’d be too late.  More potion in his system wouldn’t hurt, or at least she hoped it wouldn’t.  She sunk her claws into his back again and he groaned, shifting so he was between her legs.  She stilled.  She wasn’t completely naïve about mating.  She knew the basic steps but no one had ever described the feelings.

He kissed her ear.  “I love you, Little One.  Always have.”  He leaned up as one of his hands tugged at her underwear and his other braced him above her.

She had to stall him.  What they were doing felt good but she didn’t want to go any further.  He kissed her again and her thoughts scattered like snowflakes in a winter’s wind.

He swayed a little almost falling to the side.  He braced his hands on either side of her to steady himself.  He shook his head as if to clear it.  His eyes were unfocused and confused but then they locked onto hers, hard and angry and...hurt.  “You...”  He fell on top of her, his heart beating strong and heavy against her chest and his breathing slow and steady in sleep.

The potion had worked.  Meesus hadn’t lied.  Elation and regret tangled her limbs, keeping her in place.  His soft breath teased the hair near her ear.  She pushed her guilt aside.  She’d done what she’d had to do.  She wiggled, trying to squeeze out from under him, but he was like a boulder on top of her, hard, heavy and immobile.  She shoved but he barely budged.  Her heart beat triple time.  She couldn’t stay here.  She had no idea how long he’d sleep.  She shoved again and he shifted.  She pushed and wiggled and finally pulled herself out from under him.

She ran across the room, grabbing her shirt and her backpack.  She dressed and then moved to the door.  She took her belt with her knife and sheath off the hook and slipped it over her shoulder, tying it into place.  Her fingers caressed the handle of her weapon.  She felt better already, more herself.  She glanced outside.  There were two Guards sitting near the fire.  They were both very drunk.  The sound of laughter drew her eye to the mess tent, the fire burning inside illuminated the shadows of three or four Guards who sat around a table playing cards.  The path to the cages wasn’t going to get any clearer.  She stepped outside and stopped.  She needed her lock pick or the keys.

She slipped back inside and searched near where her knife and sheath had been but only found one of her backup knives.  She put that in her backpack and glanced at Jethro.  His soft snores told her he was still asleep, but she had no idea for how long.  She couldn’t waste any more time looking for her lock pick.  Jethro had dropped the keys into his pants pocket after unlocking her cage, but she didn’t want to get too close to him if she didn’t have to.

She glanced around the tent and hurried over to his locker.  She dug through it, but the picks weren’t there.  She turned, staring down at him.  He looked like a little boy in sleep, not like the man who’d tricked and captured her.  The man who’d lied to her and had kissed her and had told her that he loved her.  He was going to be furious when he woke.  His final look of betrayal was carved into her memory.  She knelt next to him and ran her hand through his thick hair.  She was sorry.  Sorry it had to end this way, but he’d betrayed her first.  She kissed his cheek and then stuck her hand in his pocket.

He shifted a little and mumbled, “Little One...”

Her heart broke but she couldn’t undo what she’d done and this wasn’t the time to second guess herself.  She dropped the keys into her pocket and stilled.  Jethro’s backpack was sitting near the top of the bed with her notebook stuck in the front pocket.  She pulled it out and searched the pocket, finding her lock picks and her other knife.  She stuffed all three items into her backpack and hurried to the door.

The Guards in the mess tent were still playing cards.  One of the two Guards who’d been sitting by the fire outside was passed out.  The other was mumbling to himself.  Jethro snorted and she jumped, glancing at him.  He was still sleeping but if he woke and she was still here...well, she wouldn’t think about that.  She left the tent, keeping to the shadows.  The Guard raised his head for a moment, his eyes searching in her direction.  She didn’t move, her heart slamming against her ribs.  He was too far away for her to attack him.  If he yelled, she could make it to the forest, but not with Travis.  The Guard took another swallow of the liquor, burped and then stared back at the bottle.  She raced to the next tent and then the next until she made her way to the far side of the enclosures.  She was fast and quiet and the cages, although in the center of the camp, were a good distance away from the few Guards who were still awake.

She skidded to a stop, digging the keys from her pocket.  “Travis, wake up.”

“Trinity?”  He crawled over to her.

Her hands trembled as she tried one of the four keys.  It didn’t fit.

“Are you okay?” asked Travis.

“Shhh.”  She glanced at Jethro’s tent.  Nothing moved.  She wanted to get as far away from here as she could.  Maybe then she’d forget his face—the hurt and hatred.  She fumbled with the next key and it slid into the latch.  She opened the door and Travis hopped to the ground.

They made their way into the forest.  She moved as fast as she could without losing him.  She wanted to run, climb, fight, anything to clear her head of the memories of tonight.

“You were in there a long time.  The Guards were saying...You didn’t...He didn’t...I’ll go back and kill him if you want.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  Her feelings were too jumbled.  “We need to move, not chat.”

“You shouldn’t have done...what you did.”

She threw him a disgusted look over her shoulder.  “I didn’t do anything.”  Other than lie almost naked under an half naked male who isn’t my mate.   “But drug him.”

“Thank Araldo.”  He grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her.  “I’d never be able to forgive myself if you let him...you know.”

“You can hug me later.”  She jerked free.  “We need to get out of here.  They’ll hunt for us as soon as they wake.”

Jethro would want revenge.  The rage that’d been in his eyes right before he’d passed out, promised that.  She’d run but she wasn’t sure if she’d be safe anywhere.

CHAPTER 65:  TRINITY

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DAWN WAS COMING.  TRINITY could smell it in the wind.  They’d traveled fast and without stopping, but they hadn’t gone far enough.  Travis was lagging behind, exhausted, but he had to pick up the pace.  There was a soft grunt, barely a whisper of sound, from the brush.  She stopped, pulling her knife from her sheath.  She really didn’t need to deal with any predators right now.

“What is it?” asked Travis, staring in the same direction as she was although in the dark forest he couldn’t see a thing.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.  “Let’s keep moving, but stay close.”

There was another grunt, almost a moan, and there was something familiar about the sound.

“Wait here.”  She turned and moved farther into the brush.

“Don’t.  It could be a trap.”

“They couldn’t have gotten in front of us.  I doubt they’re awake yet.”  She prayed they weren’t, especially Jethro.  His eyes had been so hurt and then so angry.  She forced his face from her mind as she pushed into the underbrush.  She was in the forest.  She had to pay attention or she’d end up dead.  She strained to hear the sound again, to figure out what it was when she caught a hint of pine and herb in the air.  “Mirra.”  Thank Araldo.  Mirra was here.  She could help them escape.

“Mirra.  It’s me, Trinity.”  That was stupid.  The Tracker had to know she was there.  Dread filled her stomach as she moved through the thick brush.  Mirra should’ve come out and greeted her by now.  She stopped, sniffing.  The vegetation was thick, blocking almost all the moonlight.  There was another soft moan and panic clawed at her throat.  That was a sound of pain.  Mirra was hurt.  She had to find her.

Travis crashed through the brush.  “I’m not waiting any longer.”

“It’s Mirra.”  She bent and started searching through the bushes.  “She’s hurt.”

“Where is she?” asked Travis.  “I can’t see a thing.”

“Shhh.”  She stilled, holding her breath and feeling the forest around her.  Trackers weren’t easy to find especially when they didn’t want to be seen.  She needed to think like Mirra.  Find the safest spot to hide from danger.  Her ears tipped.  There was the slightest rustle in the bushes.  It could’ve passed for the wind, but she knew better.  She dropped to her knees, crawling into the thick underbrush.  Mirra was buried in the vegetation in a bed of grass, leaves and twigs.  She pushed away some of the debris, shaking her hand as the grass stuck to her fingers, the acrid smell of blood slipping through the scent of pine and herbs.  “Mirra, what happened?”  Her hands ran over the Tracker, searching for injury.

Mirra’s paws were on her belly. “Babies.”  She panted.  “No good.  No right.”  Her face contorted in a mask of pain, her large fangs shining through the darkness.

“What’s wrong?”  Travis shuffled closer.

“We need to get you to my mom.”  There was a lot of blood.  They had to move quickly.  She stroked the fur on Mirra’s face.  “Travis is going to pick you up, okay?”

“What?” he whispered.  An edge of panic in his voice.

She ignored him.  “Is that okay with you, Mirra?”

“Need Gaar-Mine.”

“I’ll find him.  I promise.”  She stood.  “Travis, pick her up.  Carefully.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”  He shot her a dirty look.

“It’ll be fine.”  She prayed that was true.  She didn’t need both of them hurt.

Travis bent and carefully lifted the Tracker in his arms.  Mirra hissed in pain and he almost dropped her.

“Easy, Mirra.  Everything’s going to be okay.”  She stroked the Tracker’s arm until Mirra calmed a little.  “Let’s go.”  She headed toward the path they’d been on as her mind scrambled for a plan.  Mirra was dripping blood, leaving a trail even an Almighty could follow.  “You lead.”

“I don’t know where to go,” said Travis.

“Go straight.”  She shoved him.  “I’ll tell you when to turn.”  She kicked dirt and leaves over the blood, but that wasn’t going to fool anyone.  They had to get help for Mirra and they had to stop leaving a trail.  “Turn right.”  The river was their only chance.

Mirra gasped in pain and Travis yelped as her long claws sunk into his arm.

“Oh!”  She ran to his side, tugging on Mirra’s wrists.

“Leave her.”  He stumbled forward, his teeth clenched.  “She’ll let go when the contraction ends.”

“Contraction?”  It came out as a squeak.  That was impossible.  That meant the babies were coming.

“Yeah Trinity, she’s in labor.”  Sweat trickled down his face and he sighed as Mirra’s claws retracted.  “We need to keep moving.”

“Right.  Yeah.”  She followed, doing her best to disguise their trail.  Labor.  She was familiar with it.  It usually took a while, but she had no idea how long Mirra had been lying there scared and alone.  She had no idea how long it took Trackers to give birth.  She had no idea how to deliver babies.  She walked faster.  She’d never wanted her mother more than she did at this moment.

Dawn arrived as they traveled and then late morning.  Mirra was still losing blood and Travis was tiring but they kept moving.  She prayed Jethro and his Guards would sleep late in the day.  The Guards would be hung over but she had no idea how long Meesus’ potion lasted.  She hoped it lasted a long time.  She said a little prayer that Gaar would find them soon.  He had to feel by now that Mirra was in trouble.  As soon as he arrived, she could head off on her own, leaving a trail.  Jethro would follow her.  There was no doubt about that.

They stumbled out of the brush, the river running fast in front of them.  They couldn’t cross here or travel in the water.  The recent rain had made the river too deep and too strong.  Mirra moaned again.

“We need to do something for her.”  Travis gently placed the Tracker on the ground.

“What are you doing?  Pick her up.  We can’t stop.”

“We have to.”  He was kneeling beside Mirra as he looked up at Trinity.  “It’s time.  The babies need to come out or she’ll die.”  His voice was calm but his hands trembled as they stroked Mirra’s arm.

The blood drained from her face.  This couldn’t be happening.

“My mom had a problem giving birth once.  Your mom helped her.”

“That’s why we have to find my mom.”  It wasn’t possible.  She knew it.  They’d run out of time, but she couldn’t get her brain to accept it.

“Trin,”—he held out his hand to her—“we have to try.  We’re all she has.”

Mirra gasped in pain, her claws sinking into her own stomach.  Travis grabbed the Tracker’s arms pulling her hands away.  Mirra’s fingers dug into the earth as she groaned, the sound filled with pain and heartbreak.

“I don’t know what to do.”  She was useless, helpless and Mirra would die.

His face flushed and he glanced away from her.  “My mom...the baby was backward.”  He swallowed, his face getting redder.  “Your mom...she put her hand”—he motioned by Mirra’s thighs—“inside my mom and turned the baby around.”

“You want me to do that?”  The words came out almost a shriek.  She clamped her hand over her mouth, glancing around.

“I’m not going to.”  His face was scarlet now.  “She knows you better and...and...your hands are smaller.”

She closed her eyes for a moment.  Mirra moaned again.  It was low and sad and defeated.  She dropped to her knees.  Travis scrambled to his feet, relief washing over his face.

“It’ll be okay, Mirra.”  She took a deep breath.  “This might hurt a little, but you’ll feel better.”  She placed her hands on Mirra’s thighs.  “Travis, I need you to hold her legs open.”  She glanced back at him and shouted, “Behind you.”  She jumped to her feet, unsheathing her knife.

A female Almighty headed their way with two large Guards.  Protection Guards by their size.

She pushed in front of Travis.  “Protect Mirra.  I’ve got this.”  Her spears would come in handy right now, but she could handle two Guards without them, no matter how muscular they were.

Mirra moaned, her breath coming in pants.

“Go away.”  She didn’t need this right now.  Mirra needed her help.

“You don’t want me to do that.”  The Almighty was beautiful with long, auburn hair, a peach hue to her white skin and brilliant blue eyes, bright with intelligence.  She slowed her pace a little but continued toward them.  “I can help.”  Her eyes darted to Mirra.

“Who are you?”  She moved, attempting to block Mirra from the Almighty’s view.

“A friend.”  The Almighty’s voice was calm.  “My name’s Verly, but you know me as the Forest Witch.”

“Gaar said you were old.”

“So, the rumors are true.  You didn’t inherit the Servant’s charm along with the claws and fangs.”  Verly’s lips were drawn in a thin line and a hint of sadness shadowed her eyes.  “Gaar was talking about my aunt.  She died.  Now, I’m the Forest Witch.”

“The Forest Witch left this area years ago.”

“We did.  The Forest Witch no longer participates in Almightys’ wars, but when they take place in one’s backyard it’s hard to stay uninvolved.  So, we left.”

“Then why are you here?”

Mirra cried out in pain.

“I’d heard whispers about pregnant Trackers.  The first time I assumed it was a lie made up by those who fear, but this time I wanted to see for myself.”  Verly moved closer, her focus on Mirra.  “A pregnant Tracker is an impossibility.”

“Obviously not.”  Just like her birth was impossible.  “You Almightys need to open your minds a bit.”

Verly’s gaze darted to her, surprised and slightly amused as she moved closer to Mirra.

Trinity took a step forward, knife out.  “I said go away.”

Verly was within striking distance.  The two Guards moved to each side of Trinity, blocking her escape, but she had no intention of fleeing.  She’d die before she abandoned Mirra.

Travis grabbed her arm.  “Let her help.”

“No.”  Her eyes never left the amused ones of the Almighty.

“Mirra needs help.”  His voice was low.  “She’s going to die without it and we don’t know what to do.”

Mirra’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, as whimpers escaped her lips with every breath.

She glanced back at the Almighty and then stepped aside.  “If you hurt her...”

“I know.  You’ll kill me.”  Verly knelt between Mirra’s legs.  “Trinity, hold her hand.  Talk to her.  Comfort her.”

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

Verly ignored her, already busy spreading the Tracker’s legs.  Mirra moaned and Trinity dropped to her knees.  That was a worry for another time.  She took Mirra’s large paw in one hand, keeping her knife in the other one and shooting glares at the Guards.

Verly motioned and the Guards moved back a few paces.  “I need to get the babies out.  This isn’t going to be pleasant.”  She looked up.  “Travis, I need you to keep her as still as possible.”

His face was whiter than an Almighty’s but he squatted, holding onto Mirra’s shoulders.  Mirra didn’t even struggle.

Trinity glanced once more at the Guards and sheathed her knife.  Right now, nothing mattered but Mirra.  She brushed the fur away from the Tracker’s eyes.  “Everything’s going to be okay.  Hang on.  Help is here.”  She prayed her words were true, but Mirra continued to stare up at the sky, her eyes unfocused.

“We need her to push,” said Verly.

“Come on, Mirra.  Push.  Your babies need to come out.  You can do this.  For Gaar.  He’d want you to be strong.  You are strong.”

Mirra looked at her and bared her teeth.

“That’s it,” said Verly.  “Again.”

Trinity rested her face by Mirra’s ear, inhaling the scent of her old friend.  Mirra wasn’t going to make it.  The Tracker had lost too much blood, but she continued saying words, any words that might help.

Awhile later, Travis patted her back.  “Trinity.”  His voice was soft and sad.

She didn’t want to move.  If she did, she’d discover that Mirra was dead and there was nothing she could do to bring her back.

“It’s over.”  Verly ran her hand down Trinity’s hair in a comforting caress.

She raised her head.  Mirra’s eyes were shut but she was still breathing.  Relief washed through her, as she smiled up at Travis.  He was staring past her and his face was sadder than she’d ever seen it before.  She followed his gaze and her breath caught in her throat.

Two baby Trackers lay in the dirt alongside Mirra.  One was male and the other female.  Their fur was grayish in color, still covered in blood and fluid from the birth.  Neither was breathing.  She crawled to them.  Her fingers caressed the face of first one and then the other.  Travis knelt beside her, pulling her to his chest.  She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.  She cried for Mirra and the death of her babies.  She cried for what she’d lost with both Jethro and Hugh and she cried because it wasn’t fair that these two, innocent creatures were dead and lying in the dirt by the side of the river.  She pulled away from Travis.  That she could change.  That she could do something about.  She took her blanket from her backpack and sliced it in half with her knife.  She wrapped each section around a baby.  “We need to bury them.”

“We’ll take care of the remains later.”  Verly looked back at her Guards and one of them tipped his head in unspoken communication.

“They deserve—”

“Listen.”  Verly held up her finger.

She stilled.  Guards on hunt.

“Get Mirra and follow me.”  Verly stood and turned, heading into the forest.

Travis obeyed.  She didn’t trust the Forest Witch but staying there or fleeing with Travis and an injured Mirra wasn’t an option.  If Jethro and his Guards found her now, they’d have Mirra too.  She followed the others, the babies cradled against her chest.

They traveled a short distance through the woods and then angled back to the river.  A large boat was waiting on shore.  Three Grunts were on it with oars.  She hesitated.  Once she got on that boat, she was the Forest Witch’s prisoner.

“Come on,” said Travis.  “It’s our only chance.”  He climbed into the craft with Mirra.

She didn’t like it, but he was right.  She stepped on the boat.  As soon as she sat, the Grunts began rowing out to sea.  She stared at the disappearing forest, the two dead babies on her lap.  She glanced at Verly who was watching her.  “How did you know our names?”  She might as well figure out what kind of trouble she was in now.

Verly smiled.  “Oh, Trinity, I know a lot more than your name.”

CHAPTER 66:  CONGUISE

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CONGUISE STORMED INTO HIS office and slammed the door.  Jethro had betrayed him.  It was bad enough that he’d found the boy at the Guards’ whore house, but mating with her—the creature responsible for Viola’s death.  He dropped into his chair.  It’d been almost done.  Once she and Hugh were punished, he’d be able to let Viola rest.  He poured scotch into a glass and stared at the golden-brown liquid.  How could Jethro have done this to him and to his father?  That female had been the cause of Benedictine’s death too.  What had the boy been thinking?  He snorted.  He’d been thinking like a young, foolish, horny male which meant he hadn’t been thinking at all.

The youth of today didn’t understand that the other classes were dirty, vile, lower beings.  He pushed away from his desk and went into the kitchen.  He made his dinner and sat at the table, staring at the steak with red potatoes and asparagus, but he didn’t touch it.  Jason’s party was soon.  He needed to stop procrastinating.  He was no better than Jethro.  He pushed the plate away and prepared dinner for the Producer.  He’d do it tonight.

He carried the tray downstairs.  The Producer walked to the table and sat on the chair, hooking her feet and hands in the cuffs.  She smiled at him before closing her warm, trusting, brown eyes and tipping back her head.

He unlocked the cage and put the tray on the table.  He picked up the knife and cut the food on her plate.  His eyes strayed to her throat.  It’d be quick but not painless, but it was the best he could offer.  He raised the knife.  It’d only take one flip of his wrist and it’d be done.  He glanced back at the book sitting on his chair.  He’d started another one the other day.  He’d never finish it before her death, but there was one chapter coming up that he was sure she’d particularly enjoy.  Viola had loved this story and her favorite part had been when the heroine discovers the secret passageway in her closet.  Her violet eyes had sparkled as she’d talked about finding a secret passage in their home.  The Producer sat patiently, throat exposed.

He laid the knife on the table, walked to his chair and sat.  “You may eat now.”

She straightened, opening her eyes and smiling at him.  She was the only creature in the world who liked his company.  Somehow, while trying to ease her passing, she’d become a habit he enjoyed.  These hours together had turned from chore to his favorite time of the day.  He opened the book and began to read.

He kept losing his place, his mind wandering.  He missed Viola.  She’d been everything to him but he hadn’t realized it until she was gone.  He’d wasted so much time over the years with his experiments, time that he could’ve been with her—helping her with homework, playing with her—but instead he’d been in his lab and she’d grown up.  He regretted every moment he hadn’t spent with her, but it didn’t matter.  He couldn’t redo the past.  He found enjoyment in very little these days.  Every day was a routine of gray bleakness.  The only spark in his life was the hunt for that Producer and Hugh.  Once they were destroyed, he could go back to living.

“Are you okay, sir?” she asked.

He glanced up.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there silent.  “Yes.  Just preoccupied.”

“I know it’s not my place but my mom always said a burden shared is lighter by half.”  Her large, brown eyes were filled with concern.

“I appreciate the offer...”  Why shouldn’t he confide in her?  She’d tell no one and she was right, sometimes speaking out loud helped.  He smiled at her.  “Thank you.  I will tell you what’s bothering me.”

She leaned forward but it wasn’t with eagerness.  It was with attention and respect.

“My daughter was murdered several years ago.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”  Her expressive eyes filled with sadness, true sadness.

A lump formed in his throat.  Over the years, everyone who’d heard of Viola’s death had expressed sadness but it’d always been accompanied by curiosity and eagerness to learn exactly what’d happened.  Their concern had been false.  This Producer’s was real.  He cleared his throat.  “She has had no justice for what happened to her.”

“They never found her killer?”

“They know who did it, but the one they’d caught escaped and the other one....She was finally captured the other day.”

“That’s good news, then.”  She watched him cautiously.

“No.  My...protégé caught her, but he...he let her escape.”

“Oh, no.  That’s terrible.”  Neither said anything for a moment.  “I’m sure he’ll catch her again.”

He inhaled deeply.  “I’m not.”

“Why?”

He hesitated, hating to continue.  She was only thirteen or fourteen, still so young, but if the price of meat weren’t so high she’d be mated by now.  “He...he had an interest in her that was...”  There was no reason to coddle the girl...Producer.  She wasn’t an Almighty.  “He mated with her and she escaped.”

“Males can be easily misled when they want to mate.”  Her tone was matter of fact as if she had years of experience with the subject.

“There’s more.  The female is a...”  He hesitated before saying Producer.  He’d been calling her that for years, but now others had seen her and were saying she was a House Servant.  He needed to think of her as a Servant because if he insisted she were Producer it’d cause too many questions.  “She’s from a different class.  She’s a House Servant and the male, my protégé, is an Almighty.”

“That’s illegal and...and...wrong!”

“Yes, it is.”  No one else seemed to care.

“Will he be punished?”

“Not enough.”  There was no punishment severe enough for letting her go free.

“Isn’t the punishment for interclass mating death?”

“That’s the strictest sentence, but they’re usually lenient for such offenses.”

“Why?”

His eyes met hers.  “I don’t know.”  He stood and picked up his book.  “Goodnight.  I promise to read more tomorrow.”

“Only if you want to.”  She blushed a bit.  “I do enjoy the story and the company, but if you have things on your mind, that’s more important.”

He stared at her but she only smiled innocently back at him.  She was sincere, genuine.  She had no guile or trickery.

“May I suggest something?”  Her face grew redder.

He nodded.

“Perhaps, if you spoke with those who decide the punishment and explained about your daughter, maybe they’d punish this male more severely.”

“Yes, perhaps.”  He turned and left.  She had a point.  He didn’t want Jethro’s death.  He had too much at stake in the boy, but no one betrayed him without suffering.  No, Jethro wouldn’t get away with a slap on the wrist.  He’d make sure of that.

Thanks for reading Lake of Sins: Betrayed.  I hope you enjoyed the story.

If you liked the story, please leave a review.  You can find the links on my website:  www.lsodea.com

Don’t forget to check out the next book in the series (below)

Also, check out my other books.  An excerpt from Chimera Chronicles: Rise of the River Man is right after the Characters section on the next page.

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WHISPERS FROM THE PAST

CHAPTER 1:  JETHRO

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JETHRO WOKE SLOWLY, his mind trapped in a dream of mist and fog.  He shifted, inhaling Trinity’s scent on the pillow.  He reached out, searching for her as flashes from last night blazed through his head—her walking toward him wearing only a shirt, her long legs bared for him, her unbuttoning her shirt and exposing her silky flesh, her naked in his arms, her mouth perfect, lush and warm, her fangs—adding a hint of danger.  His skin prickled but his mind drifted to how good she’d felt beneath him, her claws raking down his back.  His eyes popped open and he sat up.  The pounding in his head made him sway and his stomach threatened to revolt.  She’d drugged him.  He flew from the bed and over to the door, zipping up his pants.

One of Cal’s Guards blocked the exit.

“Get out of my—”

“Sir, read this.”  The Guard shoved an envelope against his chest.

He glanced over the Guard’s shoulder.  The cages were empty and more than a dozen Guards waited nearby, glaring at him.  He touched his pocket.  That bitch.  She’d seduced him, drugged him and stolen his keys.  He’d kill her when he caught her.  His fists clenched, wrinkling the envelope as he turned and strode to the table, dropping onto the chair.  He tossed the note down and rested his head in his hands as his blood thrummed an insistent beat behind his eyes.  He’d told her he loved her.  He dropped his head to the table, letting it hit hard but he barely felt it, the wound to his heart and soul making him numb.

“Sir,” said the Guard at the door.  “My orders were to leave as soon as you woke.”

“Give me a minute to change.”

“Yes, sir.”  The Guard stepped outside, but stayed in front of the door.

He picked up the envelope, straightened it the best he could and opened it.  It was a letter from Cal, explaining that Jethro was a prisoner and would be escorted into town for a hearing.  He should’ve never trusted her.  She was a Servant after all.  He snatched his shoes from the floor.  He was in deep shit now.  All he could hope was that his mom and his sister had gotten far away.

He glanced out the door as he walked to his trunk to grab a clean shirt.  He couldn’t win against a dozen Guards especially ones who were itching to beat him to a pulp.  Not only were these Cal’s Guards but because of him, there was no reward.  He walked back to the table, taking in the situation outside again.  He was strong and fast.  If he could get them to look away, just for a moment, he might make it to the forest, but he had no one to create a diversion.  No one was on his side.  He pulled the shirt on over his head.  It was time to pay for his foolishness.  He stepped outside.

“Why didn’t Cal wake me?”  It wasn’t like the captain to let him sleep it off.

“We tried, sir.”

Figures.  The little bitch made sure he’d get caught and he’d been going to risk his life and the life of his family for her.  He snorted.  He was a fool—a dumb, Grunt’s ass fool.

One of the Guards yelled traitor.  His stomach dropped to his feet.  They executed traitors.  He stopped himself from bolting toward the forest.  They didn’t know he’d planned to set her free.  His punishment wouldn’t be that severe.  He’d lose this job and probably the Producer Camps, but they’d survive somehow.

The trip into town wasn’t pleasant.  The Guards weren’t in a good mood.  They were hung over and had lost a lot of money.  They knew who to blame for their misfortune and made sure he understood exactly how upset they were.  He’d traveled with these soldiers for months and he’d never been bumped into, tripped and shoved as much as on this trip, but no matter how much he wanted to bury his fist in someone’s face, he did nothing because he deserved every hit.

By the time they arrived at the offices of the Supreme Almighty he was ready to get this entire ordeal done.  He had a Servant to catch because no matter what his punishment, when it was over he’d find her.

They handed him over to Rex, the Guard who’d escorted him to his first official meeting with the Supreme Almighty.

“Hey, good to see you again.”  For some reason he enjoyed annoying this Guard.

Rex sent him a disgusted look but remained silent as he led Jethro down a maze of corridors before shoving him into a small room and locking the door.

The room had a bed, a chair and table, a pitcher of water and a bucket for a bathroom.  He drank a quarter of the water and dropped onto the bed.  He was exhausted.  The drug must still be working through his system.  It was the only explanation for his physical weariness.  His mental fatigue was a different story.  Last night played over and over in his head, causing him to waver between arousal and anger, but he forced those thoughts aside.  He had to focus on the future—how he’d defend himself and then, when that was done, how he was going to catch her.

He practiced what he’d say to the Council.  She’d been in his tent for her protection.  Everyone had been drunk and she’d been a hated Servant surrounded by Guards.  He’d take a hit on the alcohol.  The Council wouldn’t agree that the Guards had needed a day of celebration, so he’d be punished for that, but it wasn’t illegal to give Guards alcohol.  He’d explain that she must’ve snuck something into his drink, drugging him.  He’d play the victim.  Shit, he was the victim, but he wouldn’t always be.  His mind drifted to what he’d do when the hearing was over.  He’d spend every waking hour looking for her and when he found her, she’d pay.

The door opened and he jumped up, his icy rage replaced by dread.  It’d be okay.  It had to be.  His mind spun through his story again as he followed Rex down the hallway.  He didn’t think he’d go to jail, but he wasn’t positive.  He had let a traitor escape.  He needed to convince them that he was the victim and if they let him go, he’d find her.  He was the best shot they had.  No one else had even come close to capturing her.

Rex stopped in front of large, double doors and opened one of them, stepping aside as Jethro entered the council chambers.

The walls of the room were covered in heavy, dark paneling.  There were no chairs, tables or decorations of any kind.  Even the air seemed oppressive.  There were no windows, the only light coming from a few lamps built into the paneling on the outskirts of the room and the lights from above that highlighted the Council.  They—Jason, Conguise and the five other members—sat at the other end of the room on thrones several feet above him.  For once, he wished he had his ceremonial robe.  He was terribly underdressed in his old jeans and T-shirt.

“Approach,” ordered Jason.

Even though his instincts screamed for him to turn and run, he forced himself to move forward, Rex following a few feet behind him.  If he stuck with his story, he’d be fine.  He stopped several yards in front of the Council.  They wore full ceremonial robes and they all had the same sneer on their faces as if he were something nasty on the bottom of their shoes.  He glanced at Conguise, but the professor’s face was impassive.  He straightened his shoulders.  His strategy was sound.  He’d look like a fool but a live fool was better than a dead traitor.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” asked Jason.

“I was drugged.”

“Where did she get the drugs?” asked Conguise.

“I’m not sure.  I’d guess they were in her backpack.”

“The one you searched,” said a gray haired, councilwoman whose name plate was stamped B. Wilson.

“Yes.”  That didn’t look good, but again, he had no problem being labeled a fool.

“How did she get access to her backpack?” asked Jason.  “Wasn’t it in your possession?”

There was a smug gleam in Jason’s eyes.  They knew the answer to all these questions.  This was a test to see if he lied or tried to blame someone else.  He wasn’t going to do either.  “I took her to my tent to protect her.”

With that comment he received very dubious looks from the council members.  D. Sallers, a chubby councilman with thick lips, actually laughed, but Jethro forged ahead with this tale.  Only he and Indy knew the truth and he still trusted Indy.  Hopefully, he wasn’t doubly a fool.

“We were celebrating our capture of the female called Trinity.  Our plan was to use her as bait to trap the Tracker and Handler who often travel with her, but I believed the Guards needed a little time to relax first.  Many of them wouldn’t live through the capture of the Tracker and Handler.”

“Which you failed to do,” snapped Conguise.

“Yes.”  His eyes met the professor’s.  Conguise was supposed to be on his side.  “The captive drugged me and escaped.  It’s my fault and my fault alone.”

“That’s interesting, since your mother and sister have disappeared,” said Conguise.

“I don’t know anything about that.”  He struggled to hide his relief.

“And yet, you don’t seem worried about them,” said Conguise.

Shit, he’d played that card wrong.  “Of course, I’m worried, but there’s nothing I can do while I’m here.”

Conguise’s brow raised and he glanced at Jason who still studied Jethro.

“So, you took the prisoner into your tent to protect her,” said a rotund, middle-aged female with brown hair, whose name plate said S. Coxer.  “From my understanding, she was caged.  Why was that not protection enough?”

“Ma’am.”  He glanced down, feigning embarrassment.  “The Guards were mostly male and they were drunk.”  He cleared his throat.  “Some were giving undo attention to her.”

“Why didn’t you station Guards at her cage?” asked the same female.

Think, think.  “I didn’t want to take the celebration away from any of them.  They’d all worked hard and had deserved some time off.”

“They’re Guards.  It’s their job to work hard,” said Conguise.

He ignored Conguise and focused on the other council members.  “I decided to forego the festivities myself and let her stay in my tent.”

Coxer raised her brow.  “Then explain how you came to be half-undressed and sleeping in your bed while the prisoner escaped.”  She held up her hand, stopping him from speaking.  “Before you do, you should know we have witnesses who saw the prisoner naked on your lap, kissing you.  The witnesses also state that you have claw marks on your back.  That claim is easy enough to disprove.”

He should’ve turned out the damn light.  “The prisoner and I have a history together.  We met when we were both much younger.”  He struggled with the next words.  “I was fond of her.”

“Are you admitting to having sexual relations with someone outside of your class?” asked Jason.

“No, sir.  We did not...I mean...I passed out before we could...”  His face was on fire.

D. Sallers barked out a laugh and several of the other males snickered.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” said Conguise.

“I have more questions,” said Coxer, earning a hard stare from the professor.  “Did you purposefully let the prisoner escape?” Her eyes seemed kinder now.

“No, ma’am.  I did not.”

“What would you do if you found this female again?” she asked.

“I would...I will do whatever I can to ruin her life.”  He owed her that much.

A few heads nodded.

“You may go now,” said Jason.  “We’ll send for you after we’ve discussed the issue.”

“Sir, may I ask one question?”

“Yes,” said Jason.

“What happened to my Guards?”

“They are working for Cal,” said Jason.

“Sir, with all due respect, Cal will get them killed.  He doesn’t know how to fight in the forest.”

“Your concern for your Guards is less than admirable,” said Conguise.  “Leave us now.”

Rex took his arm and escorted him out the door and to his room.  He sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands.  That hadn’t gone well at all.  He should’ve realized the Guards would talk.  He should’ve turned out the damn light.  No, he should’ve never trusted her.  He’d seen her drawings of Hugh.  She was a deceitful bitch and he was nothing more than a stupid, horny male, but if he lived through this, she’d pay.  His mind drifted, fantasizing about all the ways he would punish her for her betrayal.

Rex opened the door.  “They’re ready for you.”

“That didn’t take long.”  He forced himself to follow the Guard down the hallway, when he really wanted to run away and escape.  “Is that good or bad?”

“Don’t know.  Seen it go both ways.”

“As always, you’re a great comfort.”

“I’m honest.”  Rex opened the door.  “Good luck” he whispered.

He gave the Guard a slight nod as they entered the room.  At least someone was rooting for him.  He stopped in front of the dais.

The Supreme Almighty and the council members didn’t look happy, but Conguise looked angry.  He wasn’t sure if that were good or bad.  The professor hadn’t been on his side earlier and that’d stung more than he’d like to admit.  He’d known Conguise would be disappointed in him for his attraction to Trinity, but the man was like a father to him.  He straightened his shoulders.  It was clear that like was the important word in that sentence because even though his father would’ve been disappointed, Dad would’ve sided with him against the world.

“As you know,” said Jason.  “Participating in the freeing of any rebel is a serious crime.”

He stared straight ahead, gritting his teeth to keep from defending himself.  He was beginning to understand how Hugh had felt when he’d been falsely accused.

“It is treason,” said Conguise.

Sweat trickled down his back.  He’d hang for treason and Trinity wouldn’t rescue him.

“After discussions”—continued Jason—“we don’t believe you meant to aid this House Servant in her escape.”

Rex grabbed his arm, steadying him as his knees buckled and air whooshed from his lungs.  He was safe.  His mom was safe.  Kim was safe.

“However, we do feel you need to be punished.”  Jason’s eyes darted to Conguise.  “It has come to our attention that this isn’t the first time you’ve displayed...a deep regard for someone of another class.”

He swallowed again.  The punishment for interclass relations, although usually not enforced, ranged from community service to death.

“For Araldo’s sake,” said Coxer.  “Stop dragging this out and tell the boy his punishment.”  She smiled slightly at him, her eyes sympathetic.

“Twenty lashes.  To be administered in public.”  Jason’s voice was peevish.

His body jerked, his instincts screaming for him to run, but he locked his legs and asked, “When?”

“Tomorrow,” said Jason.  “You’ll stay here under guard until then.”

He nodded, unable to speak.  Twenty lashes.  He was going to be whipped—strapped up and publicly beaten.  Rex opened the door to his room.  He didn’t even remember leaving the Council Chamber.  He dropped onto a chair.  This couldn’t be happening.  They never punished interclass mating.  Never.

“I’ll be back with some food.”  Rex hovered in the doorway.

“Just say what you want to say.  I won’t tell anyone.”  He tried to smile but his lips wouldn’t obey.  “No reason to get anyone else in trouble.”

“You’ll need your strength so you should eat and rest.  Try not to think about it too much.  You’ll get through it.”

“Have you ever been whipped?”

“With a lash?  No, but I’ve been beaten.”  Rex shrugged.  “Just take it.  Don’t plead and try not to whimper.  It won’t make the pain less but you’ll feel better about yourself afterward.  Plus, pleading and crying only make them happy.  It never makes them stop.”

Find out what happens next.

https://www.books2read.com/u/mgrNPK

Characters

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AC:  stands for Allied Classes.  It is the name used for the rebels.  See also:  Allied Classes.

Adam: A young, male Producer, House Servant and Almighty.  Trinity’s younger brother who was taken when he was three for a special “List”.  Tim and Millie’s son.

Afar:  A middle-aged, male House Servant.  Is owned by Professor Conguise and works as a butler.

Alice:  An Almighty female Hugh once dated.

Allied Classes:  Name of the rebels.  See also AC

Almighty:  The ruling class.  They are between five and six feet tall.  Generally, have dark hair and white skin.

Arthur:  very young, male Producer, House Servant and Almighty. Son to Tim and Millie. Brother to Trinity.

Avions:  Small, winged creatures about the size of a loaf of bread.  They have feathers and beak but can speak.  They are typically very gossipy.

Barney:  An elderly, male House Servant.  Tim’s father and Trinity’s grandfather.

Bell:  A Lead Producer.  He belongs to the Remore family and lives in one of their encampments.  He is the father of Mirabelle.

Benedictine Remore: A middle aged, male Almighty.  He ran the Producer encampment where Trinity lived and the Handler and Tracker camps.  Wife Martha.  He is the father to Jethro and Kim.

Birchwood:  Birdie’s real name.  See also Birdie.

Birdie:  A male Avion with brownish-gray feathers.  See also Birchwood.

Blended-Bar:  A bar that caters to all classes.

Blue:  A young, adult, female Producer.

Bo:  An adult male Guard.  Was once a Lead Guard for the Almightys.  Now, a commanding officer in the AC.

Bob:  Hugh’s alias when he pretends to be a Guard.

Brianna:  An AC Guard.  Works with Bo.

Brick:  A Guard in the Protective Services

Bruno:  An adult, male Guard.  Very large.  Belongs to Townsend.

Callie:  A young adult, female House Servant with black hair.  Friends with Leslie and Miranda. Frequents blended-bars.

Captain Calvin Folgrant:  An adult, male Almighty. A Captain in the Almightys’ armed forces.

Casper:  An elderly, male Guard.  Belongs to the Remore family.

Carla:  A female Guard.  Belongs to the Remore family.

Chapman:  Parson’s boss.

Christian:  The name given to a River-Man by Trinity.

Cold Creepers:  Reptilian-like creatures, about three-feet tall and over six-foot long, walk on all fours.  They are green, gray or brown in color.  They generally hunt in packs.

Conguise, the professor:  A geneticist.  Used to be Hugh Truent’s mentor.  Daughter was Viola.  See also:  Professor Peter Conguise.

Council, the:  A group of Almightys appointed to rule by the Supreme Almighty and the public.

Curtis: An adult, male protection Guard.

Dave Davies: An adult, male Almighty who’s rich and dating Kim Remore.

Doma:  A young, male House Servant and Almighty mix, mother is Libby.  Father is Townsend.

Duke:  An adult male Guard.  Member of the Protective Services.  Captain Cal’s Lead Guard.

Gaar:  A male Handler.  He is the bonded pair to Mirra.  See also Handler.

General Hugh Truent Senior:  A male Almighty.  Deceased.  Brilliant military strategist.  Raised Little Sarah and Hugh with wife Sarah Truent.

Guards:  Belong to the Almightys.  They hunt for the Almightys and protect the Almightys.  They vary in size and hair color.  Their eyes are usually brown.  The males generally wear facial hair.

Grunts:  Are large and strong.  They are bigger than Producers.  They walk on all fours and do not speak.  Their purpose is to haul things for the Almightys.

Handler:  Predators that bond and help to control Trackers.  They are between five and six-feet tall but are extremely wide and muscular.  They have long arms.  see also Gaar.

Hopper:  A Guard in the Protective Services. He works in the medical tent and is friends with Indy and Jethro.

House Servants:  Belong to Almightys.  They manage the households and businesses of the Almightys.  They are slender in build and short, between four and five-feet tall.  They have fangs and claws and their eyes are a vibrant hue.

Howling Hut, The: A Guard’s bar located in the Guards’ section of the city.

Hugh Truent:  A male Almighty.  The youngest Almighty to ever be bestowed the title of High.  Raised by Sarah and General Hugh Truent Senior.  Invented the tracking device.  Sister Little Sarah Norable.

Indy:  A Guard in the Protective Services. Jethro’s friend.

Jackson:  A male Guard.  He is called the hairless Guard because he wears no facial hair.  He used to belong to the Remore family.  He’s in love with Kim Remore.

Jason Dophilez, the Supreme Almighty: A middle-aged Almighty. Rules their government with the Council.  He is fat and likes to drink.  See also Supreme Almighty.

Jethro Remore:  A college age, male Almighty.  Son of Benedictine and Martha.  Sister is Kim.

Kim Remore:  An Almighty.  Benedictine and Martha’s daughter and Jethro’s sister.

Laddie:  An older, male Guard.  Once belonged to Professor Conguise and worked on level five in the professor’s lab.  He is a large protection Guard.

Lazaretto Falls:  A large waterfall in the forest.

Lead Producers:  A title given to a small set of Proudcers.  They are allowed to carry a club and they have interaction with the Almighty who runs the Producer Camp.  They also guard the perimeter of the camp from dangers.

Leelee: A young, female House Servant and Almighty mix, mother is Libby.  Father is Townsend.

Leena:  A young, female House Servant. A member of the Allied Classes.

Leslie:  A young adult, female House Servant with long brown hair and green eyes.  Friends with Callie and Miranda. Frequents blended-bars.

Libby: An adult, female House Servant.  Townsend is her mate. Mother to Leelee and Doma.

Little Sarah Norable:  A middle-aged, female Almighty.  Daughter of the General and Sarah Truent.  Raised with Hugh Truent. Also called Sarah (no longer Little Sarah) since her mother’s passing. Wife to Sam Norable.

Lola:  A female Guard. The madam of a whore house.

Martha Remore:  A middle-aged, female Almighty.  Mother to Jethro and Kim.  Wife of Benedictine.

Millie:  A Producer.  Mother to Trinity and Arthur.  Her mate is Tim.

Mirabelle:  A female Producer.  Daughter of Bell.  She has one leg shorter than the other.

Miranda:  A young adult, female House Servant with short, light brown hair.  Friends with Leslie and Callie. Frequents blended-bars.

Mirra:  A female Tracker.  The bonded pair to Gaar.  She is brindle with yellow eyes and large teeth.  See also Tracker.

Meesus:  An adult, female House Servant. Manages the prostitutes at Ray’s.  Was Ray’s mate. Very pretty, exotic.

Mo:  An adult, male Guard. Member of the AC.  Works with Bo.

National Health Assurance Registry System:  DNA database. Was supposed to be used to eliminate deformities and illnesses in offspring of all classes and to create better offspring in all classes except Almightys.

Nirankan:  A male Tracker.  Russet colored.  Wild born.

Noreese:  An adult, female Handler.  Friends with Tatania.

Pab:  An adult, male Guard of the AC. Works with Bo.

Parson, Steve:  An adult, male Almigty. Works in a lab.  Used to work for Professor Conguise.  Now, goes by Dean Rosenblur.

Petersen:  An Almighty who Servants and Guards were spying for the AC.

Producers:  Large boned and strong.  They stand between six and eight feet tall.  They usually have dark hair and brown eyes.  They work in the fields and produce all the food for the other classes.

Professor Peter Conguise:  A geneticist.  Used to be Hugh Truent’s mentor.  Daughter was Viola.  See also:  Conguise.

Protective Services:  The Almightys’ army.

Randy: A young, male Producer.  He’d lived in the encampment with Trinity and she’d liked him.

Ranger:  A male Guard. Member of the Allied Classes.

Ray:  An adult, male House Servant. Has gray hair but is in his prime.  Is a childhood friend of Tim’s. Runs the Servant section of the city.  Was the mate to Meesus.

Reese:  A young, female Guard.  She belongs to Sarah Truent.  She has long, brown hair and is short and thin.  She is a cross between a hunting Guard and something else.

Remy:  A Producer.  Millie’s sanctioned mate.  He was gay and was Troy’s lover.  He was a father figure and friend to Trinity.

Rex:  An adult, male Guard.  Is a member of the Council’s Guards and works at the Council Building.

Ritco:  Adult, male Stocker.  Leader of the Stockers in the Stockers’ Village

River-Men:  Fish-like creatures.  Can live in or out of water, but prefer to be in the water.  They can breathe both above and below water.  They have scales for skin, sharp teeth.  Hunt from below the water and drag their prey under to drown it.  Also called Fish-Men.  See also:  Christian.

Rosenblur, Dean:  The name Steve Parson is now using.

Sam Norable:  A middle-aged, male Almighty.  Husband to Little Sarah Truent.

Sarah Truent:  An elderly, female Almighty.  Mother to Little Sarah and Tim. Raised Hugh.

Sassy: An adult, female Guard. Friend of Trinity’s. Good at escaping. Brother is Rocket.

Scar:  An older, female Guard who was experimented on by Professor Conguise.  Friend to Laddie.

Sikka:  A female Tracker.  She is black and gray.  She is wild born.

Speck:  A Guard in the Protective Services. He’s very young.

Stockers:  Short and stout, long muscular arms, usually bald and very nearsighted.  They are ill tempered and violent.

Stuart:  An adult male Producer.  Travis’ brother.

Sue:  An older, female Guard.  She belonged to Hugh Truent.  She has long legs.  She is a hunting Guard.

Supreme Almighty:  The main ruler of this society along with an appointed Council.  Currently, this position is held by Jason Dophilez.

Tatania:  An adult, female Handler.  She has long, dark hair, offset by a white streak.  Friends with Noreese.

Timothy (Tim):  House Servant.  Trinity and Arthur’s father.  Millie, a Producer is his mate.

Townsend: An adult, male Almighty. A reporter.  Mate is Libby. Children are Doma and Leelee.

Tracker:  A predator.  Bonds with a Handler.  Stands around ten to twelve-feet tall on its back legs.  Can travel on all fours or on two legs.  Covered in soft fur which varies in color.  Has long sharp claws and teeth.  Can find (track) anything.  See also Mirra.

Travis:  A male Producer.

Trinity:  A Producer and a House Servant.  Daughter of Millie and Tim.

Troy:  A male Lead Producer.  He was Remy’s lover.

Verly:  The Forest Witch

Victor, The:  A large, adult, male Servant.  He works for Ray and Meesus. He is a fighter.

Viola:  a female Almighty.  Daughter of Professor Peter Conguise.  She was a scientist and a lifelong friend to Kim Remore.

Wickerwood, Wilt:  A male Almighty.  Scientist.  He used to be in charge of the serum for the Handlers and Trackers before Hugh.

Rise of the River Man

CHAPTER 1

––––––––

MUTTER WAS IN TROUBLE.  No one wanted a Guard like him.  He was too big, too strong and too ugly.  He stretched out on the concrete floor and winced.  His ribs were definitely broken, but he’d fought and won with broken bones in the past.  He started coughing.  It was this sickness that had cost him the match.  He sat up; the coughing subsided.  He’d pleaded with Vickers, his Almighty master, not to make him fight but the money had already switched hands.  He leaned his head against the bars of the cage.  He’d lost the fight and now he’d lose his life.

The door opened and a male Almighty around thirty years old with blond hair entered the room followed by Satcha, the House Servant who ran this establishment.  The Guards’ Shelter didn’t allow visiting at this hour but Almightys did whatever they wanted.  Mutter didn’t bother to stand up.  He’d learned his lesson.  Right after he’d arrived, he’d trimmed his beard and had tried to look pleasant, but it had done no good.  Every time that he’d run to the front of the cage and had smiled at the Almightys, he’d smelled the fear on them.  Most had tried not to look at him, but he was big and scarred and hard to ignore.

They stopped in front of his cage.

“Ableson, this is the one I told you about,” said Satcha.  “Looks like he was a fighter.  So, he should be used to obeying.  I thought he might work for you, but he does have a bad cough.”

“Just a little tickle in my throat from this damp, rotten place.”  He hated Servants.  They didn’t know when to keep their big mouths shut.

The Almighty remained quiet, his blue eyes never leaving Mutter.

“Come here,” said Satcha.

Mutter wanted to stay where he was to annoy the Servant but Guards like him didn’t get many chances for a home.  He stood slowly, letting the Almighty get used to his size and appearance.

“How old are you?” asked Ableson.

“Not sure.  Been around for a while but not too old.”  That was the safe answer.  He had counted nineteen winters but that might be too old or too young.  He never could tell what an Almighty wanted.

“By his teeth and body we estimate around twenty-five to thirty years,” said Satcha.

Ableson twirled his finger.  Mutter understood that signal.  Before the fights had started, when the betting happened, he was often sized up by the gamblers.  He turned in a circle, giving the Almighty time to study him.

“I’m strong and healthy.”  That was a lie but he would be healthy again.  He just needed a little time and some food.

“I need an obedient Guard.”  The Almighty’s eyes roamed up and down his frame.

“Won’t find one more obedient than me.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.”  Ableson walked down the aisle.  “Is there another Guard who he’s close to?”

“Him?”  Satcha laughed, following the Almighty.  “He’s so big and ugly even the other Guards stay away from him.”

Ableson stopped in the hallway.  “Take this one out.”

The Servant opened the cage and slipped a rope over a young Guard’s neck.  Mutter’s chest pinched.  Typical.  The Almighty’s always chose the young ones.  His only chance was gone.  They would walk out and soon he’d be executed.  He started to sit back down, when the three of them stopped in front of his cage.

“Put her in with him,” said Ableson.

“Ah, we keep the younger ones separated from the older ones, especially the older males,” said Satcha.

The Almighty didn’t say a word, but his look was enough.  The Servant muttered an apology and opened the door, shoving the young Guard into Mutter’s cage.

He glanced at the little Guard who stood as far away from him as possible.  She couldn’t have been older than nine.  She had russet hair and large, frightened, brown eyes.

“Hit her,” said Ableson, his tone conversational.

“Wait,” said Satcha.  “That one’s young and attractive.  I can find a home for her.  Let me get—”

“I’ll pay for both.”  The Almighty’s eyes never left Mutter.

Mutter kept his face a mask but his stomach clenched.  He didn’t want to do this.  He’d fought females before but they’d all been experienced fighters.

“I need an obedient Guard,” repeated Ableson.

The girl trembled in the corner, tears running down her soft, round cheeks.  “Please, don’t hurt me.”

Pleading never changed anyone’s mind.  He knew the game and it would be her or him.  He stared into the girl’s scared brown eyes.  “Bruised, broken or dead?”

Find out what happens next.

https://www.books2read.com/u/mZwWPD

Links to all stores are on my website:  http://www.lsodea.com

Author Bio

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L. S. O’Dea grew up the youngest of seven in a family that uses teasing and tricks as an indication of love (or at least that’s what she tells herself).  Being five years younger than her closest sibling often made her the unwilling entertainment for her brothers and sisters.

Before she started kindergarten her brothers taught her how to spell her first and middle name—Linda Sue.  She was so proud she ran into the kitchen to tell her mother.  She stood tall and recited the letters of her name:  L-E-M-O-N  H-E-A-D.

She’s pretty sure she has her siblings to thank for the demons that lurk in her mind, whispering dark and demented stories.

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Also by L. S. O'Dea

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Breaking the Brush Men

Rage Of Rattus Norvegicus

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Lake of Sins: Secrets in Blood

Lake of Sins: Hangman's Army

Lake Of Sins: Betrayed

Whispers From the Past

Lake of Sins: Escape

Standalone

Lake of Sins Series Box Set Books 1-3

Chimera Chronicles

A Demon's Gift