Knight of a Trillion Stars (19 page)

Deana was appalled.

Rejar sent his thought only to his brother.
{What nonsense are you telling her?}

Lorgin threw a wicked grin to his brother over Deana’s head.

Deana wasn’t paying attention now to Lorgin’s hand. She was contemplating a world where monsters roamed the streets looking for snacks, the weather was horrid, and the food, by all accounts, sucked. Terrific vacation spot. She wondered if she’d survive to show the snapshots. She’d have to talk Lorgin out of taking her there.

“Lorgin, we don’t have to go—”

“Yes, we do,
zira.
” Deana hunched her shoulders, staring straight ahead into the desert. Blasted male!

Hours passed as they traveled the land. It was hot. The
beasts didn’t seem to mind as they plodded along. Once, they saw a caravan in the distance, but it quickly disappeared from view. Distances were deceiving in the desert. They did not stop to eat. Lorgin handed her a rolled flat bread, something that resembled cheese, a piece of fruit, and a skein of water.

They continued on. Deana drifted off to sleep.

Rejar surveyed the unending desert before him with a mournful eye. Not a female in sight!
{Do you think it will be long before we reach an outpost?}

“Ages,” Lorgin teased Rejar. They rode on.

{I wonder what the women are like here?}

“Of this I am certain, Rejar; it will not take you long to find out.”

Rejar grinned, his thoughts going to pleasantly rounded hips and curving thighs.
{Perhaps we are not too far from an outpost.}

“Far enough.”

Like everything else on this planet, Rejar’s good mood evaporated.

Deana woke up in Lorgin’s arms a few hours later to the same unending vista. She leaned back into his chest, yawning. Lorgin’s low voice rumbled in her ear.

“Did you enjoy your rest,
zira
?”

“Mmm. Did I miss anything?”

“Sand. Then there was…sand; and let me think—ah, yes, more sand.”

She smiled faintly. “Are we near an outpost yet?”

“I have been hearing this question all afternoon.” He glanced toward Rejar. “No, not for a while—maybe not this day.” That meant camping out overnight in the desert. Big yuck! Deana made a face.

{Did I hear you say not this day?}
The life seemed to wilt out of Rejar.

Since Deana was now awake, Lorgin decided to pick up where he had left off. He began by rubbing her midriff with his palm under her cloak. She fidgeted on the
prautau.
Then he ran his hands down the outsides of her thighs and back up the insides.

“Cut it out,” she gritted out. He smiled into her hair.

It was when he cupped her breasts in his palms, sending her a little frisson of desire, that Deana decided enough was enough.

She removed his hands. He playfully returned them.

Deana was getting irritated. He was dealing the cards but there was no game. In an effort to make him stop, she turned, saying to him, “Look, either put up or shut up.”

Lorgin’s flashing gaze dropped to her mouth; slowly his lashes raised and his incredible eyes locked with hers. A shiver of desire raced through her. Without breaking his visual hold on Deana, he spoke to his brother.

“Rejar, go on up ahead and scout out the area.”

Rejar immediately kicked his mount, galloping ahead. Lorgin reached under her cloak, his nimble fingers going to the fastening of her pants. She felt his other hand between them, unfastening his own.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked.

“I am about to ‘put up’ as you so aptly phrased it.” He easily pushed her pants down.

“You can’t be serious? Not here!”

“Put your legs up on the
prautau’s
neck.”

“No!” She was mortified.

“Very well, let us try it this way.” He lifted her onto his lap, smoothly hooking each of her legs over his own.

“You can’t do it this way!”

In the next instant he proved to her
he could.

He pushed her slightly forward, then pulled her back onto him. His hands firmly planted around her waist, he sank into her. Deana sucked in her breath.

“My God!”

The only place skin touched skin was where they joined. It was an intoxicating, erotic sensation. Material slid against material; velvet stroked honey.

Initially, Lorgin let the pack animal set the pace; its rolling, rocking gait provided more than sufficient movement. Deana gasped for breath as he surged into her with every step the prautau made. She felt Lorgin’s hot lips on the back of her neck, the puffs of heated breath against her skin. The desert was silent except for the plodding thuds of the
prautau’s
hooves and their combined labored breaths.

Lorgin began working into the forward motion with every step the beast took. She was well aware of his powerful thigh muscles controlling the animal beneath him as well as his own movements.

“How—how far does sound travel in the desert?” she gasped.

“What?” Lorgin was somewhat preoccupied and could not believe her question. “Why…do…you…wish…to…know?” His voice was ragged. Was he actually attempting to carry on a conversation with her now? By Aiyah, this woman—

He groaned as she unexpectedly augmented his movement.

“Because I think I’m going to scream and I don’t want Rejar to hear,” she panted.

Lorgin’s low chuckle vibrated against her neck. “Scream all you like. I am sure Rejar will understand.”

“Lorgin!”

He nipped the nape of her neck. “What do you think he thinks we are doing?”

Deana tried to turn around. “He doesn’t!”

Lorgin paled significantly at her movement. He quickly turned her back around. “Please. Do not turn again. This could be an…intricate…situation. I do not wish to be
unmanned on the back of a
prautau.
And I assure you, he does.”

“How could he? This is a standard mating position here? Backwards on the back of a beast crossing the desert?”

Lorgin started laughing behind her.

“Adeeann, you are going to make me lose…this
mood.
”

Deana pushed back into him. “You put in the ante, Lorgin, don’t you dare fold on me now.” She rubbed against him, feeling him twitch inside her.

“Ah, as I suspected, a bluff.”

Lorgin’s hands at her waist pulled her down, tight against him. He wasn’t laughing now; he was quite
focused.
With a couple of incredibly sensuous moves, he took them both over the edge.

Deana’s head fell back against his chest as she fought to regain her breath. Lorgin refastened her pants, then his own. He leaned over and sweetly kissed her on the mouth before he softly whispered against her lips.

“Be warned, Little Fire. I always answer a challenge.”

“Yes, I have noticed that about you,” she mumbled as his mouth once more covered her own.

They made camp shortly before sundown. Once the two sleep huts were set up, Lorgin brought out some rather bland fare for their evening meal. No one was very excited about it. Even Lorgin lamented the deprivations one had to endure while on a quest.

Rejar seemed pretty forlorn, enclosing himself in his hut soon after they finished the meal. Deana and Lorgin entered their hut soon after, having no desire to be out in the desert after darkness fell. Deana was relieved to see that the hut had a floor, and once the door flap was closed, they were completely sealed from the outside.

They quickly undressed, getting under the fur of their pallet. The temperature was rapidly dropping, and it
seemed the hut didn’t protect them from the temperature change. It was getting cold. They snuggled together cuddling under the fur. Until Deana felt something.

“Lorgin, something’s moving under the pallet!”

He grinned rather raunchily at her. “What do you mean?”

She gave him a double take. “Not that! I mean
under
the pallet.”

“Do not concern yourself with this. Nothing can penetrate the hut.”

Something squished under her. She shuddered, horrified.

“But it’s moving!”

His arms came around her, partially lifting her onto him. “Here. Is this better for you?”

It was. Marginally. “Yes,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Good.” His hands cupped her face. He raised his head, brushing his mouth across hers. “Is this better?”

“Yes, but—”

His hands moved down to her derriere, cupping her buttocks, gently squeezing the rounded globes as he enticingly brushed her mouth again. “Is this better?” he breathed close to her parted lips.

“Lorgin, I hear shuffling sounds outside and I thought I heard—”

He swirled his tongue inside her mouth, his large palms stroking her back as he whispered against her. “I could show you another way of riding that is just as pleasurable as the one we shared earlier—”

She broke away from his roaming lips. “Lorgin, I hear something out there!”

There was a distinct shuffling sound.

Lorgin instantly raised his head, lowering her beside him. He was just reaching for the Cearix when the hut door was unfastened and four heads peered in. They did not look friendly. Lorgin uttered what Deana assumed was a potent epithet in Aviaran.

One of the heads spoke. “Come out now, Off Landers, and no tricks.”

Lorgin faced the man, towering over him. “Let my woman and me clothe ourselves first.”

The man grinned, showing an assortment of odd teeth. “And why should I let you do that, Off Lander?”

Lorgin regarded him coolly. “Because I will kill any man who gazes upon my naked wife.” Deana raised her eyebrows. That was succinct. A little extreme, but then, this was Lorgin.

The other man’s eyes flicked to their clothes on the floor, widening slightly as he noticed Lorgin’s cloak. “So, you are of the Charl. No tricks from you, now, Off Lander. Give me your word and you may clothe yourselves.”

“My word.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Your word as a Charl or we kill you both, and then the Familiar.”

“My word as a Charl.”

“Be quick about it.” The men retreated, and the flap closed, but did not seal.

Lorgin did not seem happy at having been maneuvered by the man into the promise. Deana wondered why Rejar hadn’t sent them a warning telepathically. A horrible thought entered her head. She clutched Lorgin’s arm.

“Are they Oberion slavers?” Her worry was mirrored on her face. Lorgin reached up, brushing her cheek.

“No,
zira.
They are desert nomads. Very fierce, very brave, and very greedy. They will try to steal everything we have, and then leave us in the desert to rot. They will take Rejar and sell him to the slavers.”

“What can we do? Why didn’t Rejar warn us?”

“They must have rendered him unconscious somehow. A small number of them have the Sight. One of them must have seen a Familiar amongst us. That alone would have
prompted them to pursue us. He would be quite valuable to those who live a hand-to-mouth existence.”

A harsh voice penetrated the flap. “Stop that talking! Hurry up in there or we will come in and get you, Charl, threat or no threat.”

Lorgin clenched his powerful fists. “If you do, I will take many down with me—starting with you. And if you know anything about the Charl, foolish man, you know we never make threats…
only promises.
”

Dead silence followed that remark.

Lorgin took her hand, leading her into the desert night. Deana tried not to look down as she walked across the sand. She felt Lorgin kick something away from her path. A slithering sound came from her right. She started to shake. Lorgin picked her up in his arms.

His steely gaze went to the same man he had talked to earlier. “Let my wife sit upon a
prautau.
”

The leader nodded curtly.

Once she had been placed on top of the beast, Deana drew a deep breath to calm her failing nerves. Her gaze raked over the campsite, searching for a glimpse of Rejar. Her hand went to her mouth in horror when she spotted him.

He was lashed to a
prautau.
Even from this distance she could see that his phenomenal eyes were glazed and disoriented. They obviously had drugged him.

Deana had seen Rejar in many moods: happy, mischievous, smoldering, anguished by his brother’s poisoning, courageous, and selfless. But she had never seen him like this.

He was a wild tiger.

He thrashed at his bindings, his eyes spewing venomous hatred at the men who had captured him. Deana could feel his rage. It was a palpable thing. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he began howling at the moons. But his was a calculated rage. His glazed eyes noted each man as they sat
around the campfire they had lit, as if marking them for a future hunt. Many a man, noticing the Familiar’s penetrating stare, turned nervously away, marking a sign in the air. She supposed it was a sign against the evil eye.

Lorgin, too, had noticed his brother. His expression was at once angry and deeply empathetic. “Above all else, Familiars cannot abide to lose their freedom.”

“Why doesn’t he transform himself to escape?” she whispered.

“This drug they have given him disorients him so that the transformation is impossible for him.”

“You mean he can’t change?”

“He can. But to do so would most likely result in death, for the drug debilitates him. He cannot focus on the process and could possibly lose the ability to become his cat self, or the ability to change back into a man. The result would be disintegration.”

“This is terrible!” Her heart went out to the man who was tied up like a wild animal.

Lorgin squeezed her hand. “I have heard stories of male Familiars choosing disintegration, rather than be taken as slaves.”

“You don’t think Rejar would—”

“No, for he also has the blood of Krue, and a son of Krue would not take this path. It would not be honorable to the Lodarres line. Rejar will fight—to his death if need be.”

A powwow appeared to be going on between several of the men, including the leader, a man they called Searan. Some arguing ensued. Finally Searan got up and approached Lorgin.

“Your Familiar is making some of my men nervous. They will not travel the night desert with him for fear he will call to the beasts to attack them. We will remain here until daybreak, then head east. There is a small oasis often frequented
by Oberion traders on their journeys. All of us agree it would be wise to unload the Familiar as soon as possible, even if we could get a better price for him elsewhere. My men feel the risk of keeping him contained is too great. We have decided to sell the woman as well.”