Shifter Planet (26 page)

“No promises.” She pulled him through the water easily, turning him around with his back toward her, her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him in place. He let his head fall back comfortably as she lathered and shampooed, using her strong fingers to massage his scalp just as she had her own.

“This place is amazing. How’d you find it?”

“Serendipity,” she said. “I had some time after I passed the written Guild exams—with a perfect score, by the way. I knew winter would be closing in before long, so I wanted to explore deeper into the Green while I could. I planned to be gone a couple of weeks, and Fionn had promised to come along—” She smiled at his growl. Shifters were so predictably territorial. “
But
,” she continued, “he never liked going out into the Green with me, and especially not this far from the city.”

“Has Fionn been to this place with you then?”

“Will you let me finish my story, please?”

He gave a little grunt of agreement, and she continued. “Anyway, Fionn didn’t show, which wasn’t all that unusual, so I went out alone.”

“Fantastic. Why bother with those pesky Guild regulations, right?”

She knocked her knuckles on the top of his head. “Quiet, you.” When he didn’t say anything else, she went on. “Without really meaning to, I went farther than I’d ever gone before, especially alone. I saw plants and animals I’d only read about, and even more that I didn’t recognize. I was sketching like crazy, determined to go back and find every one of them in the database.”

“I hated people like you in school.”

She laughed. “You weren’t alone. I wanted to learn everything I could, though, so that I’d be ready for my final trial. Anyway, toward the end of my first week out, I was looking for a place to camp for the night. I climbed a tree to get my bearings, and I noticed a concentration of urwillows down in this ravine. I’d done a lot of hiking that day, a lot of ups and downs, and I was dying for a long soak. I knew urwillows were found near hot springs, so I went looking. Once I got into that rock passage back there…well, I couldn’t find my way out. I hit so many dead ends and lost so much skin squeezing through tight places that by the time I finally stumbled onto this pool, I was thinking I’d never find my way out again.”

“Probably easier for a shifter to come in over the top. Save some fur,” he added darkly.

“Poor kitty,” she soothed, brushing away suds to kiss the back of his neck. “I don’t know if that would work. No one’s ever tried. There’s never been anyone here except me. Not that I know of.”

“No one?”

“Nope.”

“So Fionn
hasn’t
been here?”

She rolled her eyes at the back of his head. “Especially not Fionn. I told you, he’d never come out this far with me.” She tapped his shoulder. “Dunk.”

He sank beneath the water, and she ran fingers through his hair, rinsing away the shampoo.

“Fionn’s an ass,” he commented after resurfacing.

“Don’t be mean,” she said, squirting more shampoo in his hair. “Besides, Fionn’s all right. It’s just that no one ever lets him forget that he’s destined to be the next Ardrigh. I feel sorry for him sometimes.”

His neck and shoulders bunched with tension beneath her fingers, and she wondered at how blind men could be sometimes. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “There must have been one or two court ladies who fancied the de Mendoza clan chief, too.”

He snorted dismissively. “Not a brain between them and they stank of perfume. It took days to get the smell out of my nostrils after one of the Ardrigh’s social events, and I spent most of the evenings trying not to sneeze.”

She felt his muscles relax again, and smiled. “You’re such a charmer, de Mendoza. Dunk.”

When he came up this time, he’d turned to face her, and she had to reach behind him to twist his hair, wringing out most of the water before letting her arms drop around his neck. She gazed up at him, and thought she’d never wanted anything more than to feel his mouth on her again, to have his body moving inside her, taking and giving pleasure. “Make love to me,” she said simply.

He gave a rumbling purr of assent, and his arms closed around her. “So you’ve never had a man here with you before?”

“Never.”

“Which means you’ve never had sex here before?”

“Nope. So you better make this one count.”

“They all count,” he murmured as his lips closed on hers. “Every time with you, Amanda. Every time.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

A
manda lay awake in the middle of the night, breathing in the warm moist air of the hot spring, wondering how long they could reasonably linger in this hideaway. She kept circling back to one concern. What would Rhodry’s family do if he was reported dead? From what he’d told her of them, she didn’t think they’d mourn quietly. They’d raise holy hell, maybe even challenge Cristobal’s government. And who would that serve? Desmond Serna, probably. The very traitor who’d tried to murder Rhodry.

She frowned unhappily, and he reached out to pull her closer, somehow aware of her troubled thoughts. She let herself relax into his big body. Yes, they had to go back, she knew that absolutely. She was so reluctant to give this up, to give
him
up. Who knew what would happen when they returned, when obligations to family and crown laid their heavy hand on him again? Would he still acknowledge her? The de Mendoza clan chief and the unwanted Earther woman? There had to be a reason why he’d put her off for so long. Would she become his shameful secret once they returned to the city?

She laid a hand against his thickly-muscled chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart as she smoothed small circles with her fingers. His breath quickened, even in his sleep, and she smiled, letting her hand roam farther, down over his flat belly and lower still. His shaft rose eagerly at the touch of her hand, and she breathed a soft, delighted laugh. She pushed herself up and pressed her lips against his, sliding her tongue along the crease between his lips, teasing her way into his mouth.

He groaned and stilled her hips, holding onto her with both hands. “You keep this up, and there will be no sleeping tonight.”

“Who needs sleep?” she murmured, kissing and licking his cheeks, his beautiful eyes, and then back to his delicious mouth. “Do your worst, de Mendoza.”

“I’d rather my best.”

The tender twining of their mouths became suddenly fierce as tongues fought and teeth bit into flesh. He growled low in his chest and flipped her beneath him, covering her body with his as he sampled first one breast, then the other, biting hard enough that she cried out, fisting her hands in his long dark hair and groaning as his mouth teased lower. His hands lifted her to him, spreading her thighs, letting his tongue glide into her slit to find her swollen clitoris and suck it into his mouth, his tongue working the sensitive nub until she screamed his name, begging him to release her. He made a rumbling, animal sound of hunger and rose onto his knees, wedging himself between her thighs and pulling her onto his cock as he thrust forward, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove deep into her body.

She clenched around him, holding him in her depths, trapping him with her legs as she reached up to pull him closer. He fell forward, his arms to either side of her as he slammed into her over and over again, the silky wetness of her arousal easing the way, creating a slick friction of heat as he pounded into her, as her sheath caressed his hard length. She felt his sac tighten against her ass, heard his breaths turn to gasps as he drove faster and deeper than she would have thought possible, deeper than any man had ever gone. Her own desire soared, every nerve in her body seeming to come alive at once, her breasts aching with the need to be crushed against him, her mouth hungry for another taste of his flesh. She tugged his head lower.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

He snarled his response, lowering his mouth to claim hers at the last minute, swallowing her scream of climax as he poured his own release deep into her body, filling her, shattering her, and making her whole.

They lay unmoving as breaths eased and hearts resumed a steady rhythm, listening to the trickle of water in the grotto, the rustle of small animals in the trees overhead. She licked dry lips, his and hers, and he responded, kissing her softly, tenderly, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him, before wrapping her in his arms and rolling over.

“What are you thinking?” she asked eventually, already knowing his answer.

“We have to go back.”

She sighed and rubbed her face against his shoulder in a way that always made him smile. He teased that she was becoming more of a cat than he was, that she was spending too much time around him. It hit her again that they might have less time together in the future, and her arms tightened around him possessively.

“How do you think Serna explained your disappearance? Especially to your family. And will Cristobal think you’ve deserted?”

“Regardless of what Cristobal thinks, my family would never believe I’d desert, and Serna’s clever enough to know that. No, he’ll have come up with a tragic tale. An accident or maybe even an ice bear,” he said drily. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever the claim, my cousins won’t take Serna or anyone else’s word on it, and I’m worried what they might do. I have to get back to the city before that happens.”

“Serna and Daly will be surprised.”

“It is my fondest wish to surprise them completely.”

“In the morning, then?” she said quietly.

“Aye,” he breathed, pulling her head onto his shoulder. “Get some sleep,
acushla
. We’ve a long, dangerous journey ahead of us yet.”

Chapter Forty

A
manda watched Rhodry vault into the trees, his muscular legs and scythe-like claws powering up the thick trunk with ease. He paused at the first branching to crouch low and study her with a lazy, predatory stare, and, even knowing who he was, it gave her a little chill to be eyed like today’s lunch. That is, until he opened his jaws in a big kitty grin, flicked his tail, and disappeared into the canopy’s heavy growth.

She waited a while longer, thinking she could hear him moving through the upper branches, but decided it was just the wind. Then, eyeing her own clawless fingers with regret, she picked up her gear once again and, since he couldn’t see her, limped in the general direction of Ciudad Vaquero. No gliding through the trees for her, she was earth-bound with a bad leg, making her way around thick clusters of undergrowth, running up against vines so intertwined among the trees that cutting through them would have added hours to her journey. Easier by far simply to walk around, no matter how far it took her from her path.

The hidden hot spring was already two days behind them, two days spent traveling ever closer to the city. The forest floor here was thick with old leaves and moss, layer upon layer of vegetation gone to mulch centuries ago, spongy and giving beneath her feet.

The usual small ground-bound creatures were scratching through the undergrowth and birds fluttered high above. The birds of Harp were generally a quiet bunch. One would occasionally burst into song, quickly answered from far away. And that was inevitably followed by a loud rush of wings as the whole flock took off for parts unknown, perhaps having been called to a better roosting by the distant advance scout.

The larger predators had stayed out of their path. Mostly, she knew, because of Rhodry drifting around above her. The animals had learned generations ago that shifters were vicious in protection of their human companions. Had she been alone, it would have been a very different story, and Amanda had to admit it was nice to walk through the Green without being constantly on the alert. She no sooner had that thought than she was scolding herself for it. It was dangerous to become too complacent on Harp, even with a shifter standing guard.

Far overhead the sun was shining brightly, sifting down through the trees to create a moving canvas of light. It took skill and experience to filter through the constantly shifting light and distinguish between fleeting shadow and real movement. She had long ago made that leap in ability, and on planets far away from Harp. It was almost like a dance to her, with the shifting light a silent symphony, twirling around a bramble, down a branch and up a vine. For all the encumbrance of traveling on the forest floor compared to weaving above it through the trees, she’d often thought that shifters missed the most basic song of the Green by not getting their paws dirty.

A rustle of leaves overhead drew her idle glance. There was always activity of some sort in the canopy. Any number of the animals who lived out here never touched the ground until death sent them to a final resting place on the forest floor. She continued on, pausing to pick some goldbud she found growing in a huge clump between the roots of a grandfather tree. This far south, the herb grew like a weed, its flavor stronger and more spicy than what she’d found growing near the glacier. She crouched down to pull the plant up carefully, leaving the dirt clinging to its threadlike roots as she rolled it in a broadleaf and tucked it into her pack. It would stay fresher, comforted by the presence of its home soil.

She slapped her hands together to get rid of the dirt, then brushed them down the front of her leggings. The pants had been clean when she and Rhodry had left the hot spring. After two days of travel, they were so filthy that the extra grime from her hands was hardly noticeable. Other than her cloak—and even that would need a thorough cleaning—there wasn’t one thread of her clothing that would be usable after this. She’d probably end up throwing the whole bunch directly into the rag bag. On second thought, they might not even be usable as rags. Shaking her head, she kept walking.

There was that rustling again, distinct enough to draw her attention, and make her aware that she’d been hearing a steady movement overhead for some time. She stopped and leaned her head back, searching the canopy. Between the constantly shifting spectrum of light and the deep shadows of the higher branches, it was nearly impossible to see anything. She scanned slowly, listening as well as looking for anything out of place. Nothing stood out. She thought about calling Rhodry, unwilling to break the silence or even, she admitted, to act like a helpless female. With a last searching look overhead, she shrugged and kept going.

Another ten paces and a big bird took wing above her, its raucous caw of discontent punctuated by the snap of wings as it rose from its perch. She frowned and abruptly wondered where Rhodry was. A wayward breeze brought her the sound of claws on bark and she smiled. It was nearly time to stop for the day. She’d been angling toward the sound of running water for some time now in anticipation of their nighttime camp. She changed direction, aiming straight for the steady splash of water over rocks, wondering how cold it would be and whether she could manage a bath of some sort. What was it her mother always said? Beggars can’t be choosers. And she certainly
looked
the part of a beggar.

She was chuckling at her own thoughts when a shadow fell over her shoulder, casting her into even deeper shade than the rapidly declining sun. She kept walking. Let Rhodi think his little ambush would work. Wouldn’t he be surprised—

She stumbled, crying out in shock as a heavy weight laid a glancing blow across her back and knocked her to the ground. Her knees hit hard on a gnarled root, sending a jolt of agony up her injured thigh, snapping her teeth together to bite her tongue as she fell.

“Damn it, Rhodry,” she snapped, and twisted around, furious that he would try such a stupid stunt. She had only a moment to register the
tawny
cat’s gold-flecked brown eyes before it yowled aggressively and launched itself at her, claws distended, mouth open to reveal very sharp, white fangs.

She shouted in surprise and rolled to one side, away from the tree and its massive roots. The cat’s full weight missed her, with one heavy paw striking her lower back like a fist. She grunted in pain, recognizing in the same moment that he’d pulled his claws. That was curious, but the blow had still hit hard just above her kidney, and it hurt like hell.

She gathered her legs beneath her and pushed to her feet, pulling a knife as she did so. Whether or not he was trying to kill her, she had no intention of letting him beat her black and blue. She tried to scramble back against a tree as she searched for her attacker. The tawny cat hit her again before she’d regained her balance, this time from above, landing full on her back and shoulders and pushing her down into the smothering softness of the forest floor. Her nose and mouth filled with dead leaves and dirt, making it impossible to draw a breath. She fought back, fisting her knife and stabbing blindly backward, struggling to get enough leverage to use her full weight against him. He was heavy, though nowhere near as heavy as Rhodry would have been—younger probably, and definitely smaller.

Her attacker howled as her knife hit its target, the blow glancing off what felt like a rib. It was enough to distract him, and she lifted her face to suck in a breath of precious air. She managed only one, as the angry cat now doubled his efforts, using his greater weight and strength to hold her down while his nose burrowed into the space between her neck and shoulder. She could feel the heat of his breath, the hot wet spittle dripping from his fangs, and she knew if he succeeded in biting her there, he could kill her whether he intended to or not.

A roar of fury echoed through the forest, and her attacker howled in terror as Rhodry dropped out of the trees. The two cats rolled away across the forest floor, their sharp battle snarls punctuated by shrieks of pain as Rhodry tore into the smaller animal. Amanda shook her head, trying to focus. Her ears rang with her attacker’s deafening cry of fear, which had been right next to her head when Rhodry attacked, and black spots danced in front of her eyes from her near suffocation on the forest floor. She spat wet dirt and moss out of her mouth, rubbing her lips vigorously to get rid of the disgusting taste. Lucky for her nothing in this area was poisonous or she’d have been dead.

She was convinced by now that her attacker didn’t want her dead. He’d pulled his claws when he hit her, and even when he had her down on the ground, he hadn’t bitten her, although there had been plenty of opportunity. Instead of pushing her face into the dirt, he could have severed her spine easily with a single snap of his jaws, or one swipe of those powerful claws. She blinked at the battling cats, one huge and black and the other…just a baby.

“Don’t kill him,” she shouted. She jumped up and ran toward the combatants, ducking behind a tree at the last minute to avoid being crushed by the tangle of snarling cats. “Don’t kill him, Rhodi!”

He had the smaller cat at his mercy, bleeding profusely from several deep gashes in his muzzle, and one paw hanging limply as if broken. Her erstwhile attacker was on his back, belly bared, his mouth hanging open and gasping for breath, eyes rolling in fear as Rhodry’s deadly fangs hovered above his throat.

“Rhodry!” Amanda shouted.

His massive head swung toward her, and he snarled angrily.

“Don’t kill him. Please.”

He stared at her for several heartbeats, then gave a disgusted snort and swiped one huge paw across the smaller cat’s cheek, before flexing his powerful legs and jumping onto the branch just over her head. He stayed there, crouched protectively above her, his muzzle red with the tawny cat’s blood, golden eyes watching every move.

She didn’t move any closer to the injured cat. She didn’t trust either her attacker’s motives or Rhodry’s patience that far.

“Go back and tell whoever sent you that we’re coming home,” she said flatly.

The tawny shifter wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was staring at Rhodry who returned the gaze with fangs bared, a low growl rumbling steadily from within his deep chest. The younger cat finally dared to cut his eyes briefly in her direction, before snapping right back to Rhodry. Finally, with a pained grunt, he ventured a slow roll back to his feet where he immediately huddled into a tight ball, poised to run.

“Go on.” The young cat seemed frozen by terror, and she blew an impatient breath. “If you’ve the brains of a houseplant,” she snapped, “you’ll leave while you can. He won’t touch you as long as you leave us alone.”

The attacker stood on shaky legs, his attention never leaving the huge black shifter hulking overhead. Muscles bunched suddenly, and then he shot away, racing to the nearest tree only to howl in pain when he tried to climb it with his torn paw. Falling back to the ground, he slunk instead into the underbrush and disappeared from sight. Most likely, he’d stay on the ground until he felt safe, then shift a couple of times until he was healed enough to take to the trees again.

One thing was certain. When he got back to the Guild Hall, his masters would know that Amanda was on her way back, and that Rhodry de Mendoza was alive and well, and on his way home along with her.