Rebel Pax (Shifters of the Primus Book 2) (3 page)

W
e leave shortly
after I finish embarrassing myself with my nerdy laugh. He has agreed to take me to the Toltek clan, but I can barely bring myself to look at Pax after all the compromising situations I’ve put myself in around him, and in such a short period of time.

I feel guilt creeping into my mind as well. After all, am I just using him? If all he wants is my safety, the right thing to do would be to choose the safest path. But I can’t bring myself to do it. He was willing to take me back to the Umani and I refused. And why? Because I didn’t want everyone back at the human settlement to think I was as weak as they say. I didn’t want Liandra or Kato to think I am a coward. Instead, I’ve made Pax, who has done nothing but risk himself to protect me, take another risk. I nearly ask him to stop and take me to the Umani, but I don’t. And I hate myself for it.

I promise myself that I will make it up to him. I don’t know when or how long it will take. But Pax deserves better than to be a tool.

We reach a portion of the jungle where the bridges formed by branches are relatively flat. It’s as if we’re walking along a wooden road that floats miles above the planet’s surface. I can’t help appreciating the beauty of Markul and its jungles. Greens, purples, and yellows glow in the sparse rays of sunlight that penetrate the canopy above. There are ant-like creatures that Pax says will burrow beneath the skin and lay eggs if you make camp too close to their nests. Once, we see a bird about five times Pax’s size. It has one leg that dangles below its thick torso. Pax says it picks up its victims and slams them into trees at top speeds. I breathe a sigh of relief when it veers away from us.

Pax moves through the trees with a fluid grace I can’t help but envy. It’s strange though, not quite the way a dancer might move. Instead, he moves as if each twitch of his muscles is precisely calibrated to be as efficient as possible. There is no wasted energy—no wasted space. Liandra said these Primus males have no lifespan. Their bodies are so strong that they just keep living until something manages to kill them. And because something
always
seems to be trying to kill Primus males, age is a statement of power. I wonder how old Pax is. . .

He kneels a few times, inspecting strange marks on the trees and branches. At the last mark, he pauses for a while, looking into the distance while he twirls a broken twig in his hands.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s strange. As if someone has been through here recently.”

“Is that so unusual?”

He regards me. “Yes. Even the Primus do not stray into the wilds alone. And this is not a known hunting area. The beasts that frequent this stretch of jungle are too deadly to make hunting work the risk.

“Yet. . . Here we are,” I say nervously.

“I am not most Primus. You are safe with me.”

Coming from most men, I would take the words as false bravado. Coming from him, I believe it. I really do. And that same fact makes it hurt all the more when I think of how I’m using him. I put the thought from my mind. I
will
make it up to him, even if it kills me.

“We will follow these trails and see where they lead. Perhaps the same Primus who shot down your shuttle are still hunting for you.”

I laugh. “I’m not that important.”

He meets my eye. For that moment, I feel as if I am his world, that nothing else could ever draw his attention away. I don’t want it to end. He seems about to speak but closes his mouth and continues forward.

Though he didn’t say it, I
feel
what he wanted to say.
Yes you are.
But why am I so certain that was on his mind? Probably because the look on his face said it all. No man or alien has ever looked at me that way. . . After his gaze left me, I felt like crying out and clutching myself from the sudden cold. To be in his mind and in his eyes, that was warmth and happiness. Did I really just think that? After only knowing Pax for a few hours? I need to get a grip and stop letting the hormones do the thinking.

The image of Pax dripping his blood over my wounds returns to me and I can’t help wondering if something more than fluid passed between us. I notice that I have been feeling extra energetic for the past few minutes and the ache from the venom is all but gone. It’s probably just the near-death experiences coming in rapid succession and being in the presence of Pax. Or maybe something else. . .

We reach the edge of a wooden branch several dozen feet wide. It terminates in a broken burst of wood, like something crashed into it. I try not to imagine what kind of beast could break a branch this size. When I look over the edge, my head spins and I nearly lose my balance. It is
miles
down and there is nothing but a green expanse of leaves and open air. And now I know what nightmares wait for any who fall to the jungle floor. It would be better to die from the fall.

Pax’s strong hand steadies me. He looks at me, concern creasing his features. “Are you well?”

“It’s just a long way down. I’m fine though. Are you sure that branch can hold us?”

He reaches up to grab it, the muscles across his bare torso stretching and flexing with the effort. He grips it tight and pulls down with an explosion of power. There is a sound like a thousand leather straps being twisted, but the vine holds. He tugs it several more times for good measure.

“You’re right.” I say, trying not to stare any more than I already have at his muscles. “It looks pretty steady.”

He pulls me to his body again and I reflexively wrap my arms around him and my legs around his waist. “Hold tight,” says Pax.

I didn’t need a reminder. I think if I hold any tighter my fingers will break. I’m so scared that I don’t even spare a thought for how good the warmth of his skin against mine makes me feel. Okay, maybe I spare one or two thoughts for it. I close my eyes tight and feel his body begin to swing. He sways, lurching forward every second for what feels like minutes. Though I don’t look, I know we are swinging from vine to vine above a
very
long drop. I can’t bear to open my eyes so I press my face into his chest and keep them squeezed shut. I vaguely become aware that my leg is pressing against his firm ass.

Then we are still. I open my eyes and realize, to my embarrassment, that he is standing still while I still cling to him. I let go so quickly that I nearly fall, but his hand snaps out and steadies me. I see something pass over his features. He squints, looking past me.

I turn to see what he is looking at. A splash of red in the otherwise green and purple environment catches my eye. We move closer until I can make out what it is.

“This is a missile casing,” Pax says. He puts his hand to it. “Still warm.”

“That means this was from the missile that shot down my transport shuttle?”

“Yes. And I would have heard if any other missiles had been fired recently. This is one of them. But. . . It is strange. Do you see this mark?”

I lean closer. There is a square of grey paint with a yellow skull inside. “Some sort of clan’s sigil?”

He nods. “Yes. The Toltek.” He sniffs deeply and then frowns. But this other scent. It is like you, but not. There is a smell of humans too.

“So. . .” My mind races, gut wrenching when I realize what it means. “One of my own people worked with the Toltek to have me killed? But only a handful of people even knew when our shuttle was leaving and where it was headed. And even less knew who would be on board.”

I see an intelligence behind Pax’s eyes that I didn’t realize was there as he thinks of what to do. It’s not a scholarly sort of intelligence. It’s almost like he has so much willpower that he just overpowers problems through sheer force of will and strength alone.

“We will go to your people. Seek answers.”

I didn’t want to return to New Hope as a failure. I wanted to complete the mission and prove that I could do it, but now. . . It feels like there’s something more. Something greater pulling at me. If I have to look like a failure to piece it together and make things right, then I will do just that. With a sinking heart, I realize that I am once again going to be using Pax as a tool to reach my goals. I am going to bring him with me and take advantage of the protection he provides until I find out who wanted me dead.

What other choice do I have? And why in the name of the ancestors would humans work with the Toltek to have me killed? Unless. . . No. There was no one so power-hungry, even among the humans. I push the thought that nearly bubbled to the surface back before it can burst. I refuse to think one of my own would be so selfish.

I
watch
Mira as she looks down at the missile casing. Her small body looks so fragile amongst the monstrous Loris trees. In my world of violence and hard edges, she is a strange but beautiful creature that has wandered too far from its home. I know how quickly she would perish if I did not protect her. And yet. . . She possesses a strength of mind that moved beyond her small frame. A strength of attraction that bends even my will to hers. I look at her soft hair and the fullness of her lips. I feel the beast within me taking the reins of my thoughts, vowing to crush anything that dares to harm this woman. Tempting me to claim her and take her as my own, bring her to climax after climax until she cannot even think of any other man for the rest of her life.

But it must not be. When I have brought her to the end of this and broken all those responsible for trying to harm her, I will return to the jungles and find my end.

We reach the Umani outer limits shortly before dusk after a long afternoon spent climbing while Mira clutched to my back. We stopped several times so her arms could rest. The village we enter is relatively isolated, so it is carved into a tree rather than set atop the open branches. Wild beasts will be less likely to notice or explore such a place.

We enter the cave-like structure where several levels of homes are cut into the walls around us. Vines dangle for easy climbing up and down. Warm yellow lights wash the town center, which bustles with activity despite the hour. There is some sort of market where Primus males and a handful of other species mingle. I look to Mira and see her eyes wide with astonishment.

“Is this your first time seeing aliens other than Primus or Kolari?”

She shakes her head, “I’ve seen a few Kolari women, but. . . What is
that?
”

She points to a Grabbakt male, at least I think he is male. I am never quite sure when it comes to their species. I imagine what she must think seeing one of the creatures for the first time and surprise myself by laughing. It looks like a fat worm with arms coming out of its head. “That,” I say. “Is a Grabbakt. Useless in a battle but they have long provided us with valuable weaponry.”

“In exchange for what?” asks Mira.

I shrug. “The Primus may not develop technology of our own, but we know how to use it. There is always a use for our species as bodyguards, assassins, and soldiers. The organs, furs, horns, skins, and venoms of Markul’s beasts are also sought. And when that fails, some just resort to intimidation and blackmail.”

Her eyes light up. “What’s that smell?” She clasps her small hands to her breasts and sniffs deeply, closing her eyes and lifting her chin.

My eyes trace the smooth line of her starkissed skin down to the soft, white skin of her chest. I can see the hint of her breasts before her torn shirt covers them. The memory of her skin and the taste filling my mouth floods my mind.

“That is Klasan meat,” I say, nodding to a thin Kolari male beneath a green sign. He flips long sticks that skewer several fist-sized lumps of meat. They burn red and black across the coals. The smell rouses my hunger, as I have eaten nothing but raw meat and scavenged vegetation for years. I remember from the years before my exile that Klasan meat is rich and was tender, absorbing whatever seasonings the cook chose for the day but maintaining a savory and slightly sweet flavor of its own. “Come, I will buy us some.”

“What do you have to trade? You’re kind of, well.” She gestures to me.

It is true that I wear only a torn pair of leather pants, but she will see the currency I carry. I approach the Kolari man. He has soft skin of pink and a languid, weak sort of grace that makes my lips curl. No man should be so soft and so untrained in combat. He looks as though the only exercise he gets is twirling the small kebabs.

“Yes?” he asks, voice guarded when he sees my huge frame. His faces tightens in slight confusion when they find my golden eyes. He has likely never seen an exiled before.

“We would like two
Klasan
kebabs,” I say.

He swallows hard, apparently deciding that I must not be carrying anything to barter with. “Will you strike me down if I refuse?”

I pull a small pouch free of my pants. It clatters as I toss it down on the counter and pull free one of the fangs within. It is smaller than one of Mira’s fingernails, but worth enough to buy half the village. The merchant looks at it dully for a moment and then his eyes go wide.

“How did you… I don’t have change for that.”

“No need. I say,” sliding the venomous tooth toward him. The outside of the tooth is clear and a small collection of purple liquid can clearly be seen inside. The liquid can be extracted and used in a complicated process to manufacture some of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy. To me, it is just a tooth I pulled from one of the many beasts I battle every day. To this man, it’s probably enough to retire and live a life of excess.

Hands shaking, the merchant scoops up the tooth, clearly not interested in giving me a chance to change my mind. He practically throws two
Klasan
kebabs at us with a huge smile plastered on his face.

Mira gives me a searching look. “Why do I feel like you just paid way more for these than you should have?”

“Money is not an object to me. Perhaps the weak must worry over it. But on Markul, there is nothing that strength can not gain me.”

“What about happiness?” she asks.

I think for a moment and then nod, thoughtfully. “You are right. It is my strength that denies me happiness.” If I were weaker, the death I seek would come easily.

Her face softens. “Pax. . .” She places her small hand on my forearm. “If you weren’t so strong, you couldn’t have saved me. I don’t think anyone in this galaxy could have done what you did,” she pauses face reddening. She begins talking more quickly, as if she is speaking out of nervousness. “And hey, maybe
I
will make you happy. And then it all works out! Your strength could bring you happiness afterall. Problem solved.”

She smiles up into my eyes and if I wasn’t as certain as stone before, I am now. There is nothing I would not give to protect this female, to keep her safe and keep her mine. I bite into my
Klasan
and groan with happiness. “Delicious.”