Among Galactic Ruins (13 page)

She was pleasantly relaxed, her skin
tingling and her body aching in a few places that had nothing to do
with falling into a giant sand trap. They’d had another long soak
in the mineral pool, which had turned into another extended session
of lovemaking. Damon was relentless and seemed to love watching her
come. He’d made her orgasm on his hand, his mouth, and finally he’d
come inside her. And every time, his intense gaze had never left
her face as she’d tipped over the edge of pleasure.

He grabbed her hand, shot her a knowing
smile and pulled her toward a large burgundy tent set up near the
water. Lanterns had been strung up, casting a bright glow around
the small groups of people gathered. She smiled at him, liking the
look of him in the loose-fitting tan trousers and white shirt that
contrasted with his dark skin.

Damon and Lexa entered the tent and the
delicious smell of food made her realize how hungry she was. A long
table was overflowing with a bunch of stuff she didn’t recognize.
They both loaded plates high with vine-wrapped meats, some small
roasted animals on skewers and spiced rice.

Lexa spotted Dathan standing with a girl in
the corner of the tent. She had dark skin the color of polished
Tralish mahogany and a pretty face framed by a fall of black hair.
She was fluttering her eyelashes at the young treasure hunter, who
looked like he was in full charming mode. When he saw them, he
tossed them a friendly wave.

Most people sat on colored pillows scattered
around the floor. Lexa and Damon found some empty ones in a corner
and sank down on them. Lexa, swept her legs under her and tasted
the vine-wrapped meat. Absolutely delicious.

“So, are you going to tell me about your
time in the GSS?”

Damon chewed on a piece of meat. “I never
said I was in the GSS.”

“Is that right, Helix?”

He stiffened. “Never, ever mention that name
again.”

That hurt. Her gaze dropped to her plate.
She’d thought they’d reached a place where they trusted each other.
“Fine.” She snagged another bit of food off her plate.

She heard him curse under his breath, then
strong fingers gently grasped her chin. His midnight eyes were
turbulent.

“You can push at me with just an expression
on your face.” He shook his head. “My former colleagues wouldn’t
believe it. Me, besotted by a woman.” He fiddled with the food on
his plate. “I was GSS and yes, I was a spy. I worked some of the
dirtiest, blackest, nastiest undercover missions…and no, I’m never
going to tell you details. Some of them are classified and some—”
he sighed “—well, I’d never want you to know, anyway.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“At first, I felt like I was doing my bit,
and I was good at it. I wanted to believe I was helping
people.”

“What changed?”

“In an organization like the GSS, there are
so many people, species, races, all with different beliefs and
agendas. The bureaucracy and politics…it can lead to some stupid
decisions. With a few of the missions, I just felt like we should
have never been there in the first place.”

She heard a bone-deep weariness in his
voice, and she did wonder just how bad it must have been to wear a
man with the strength and determination of Damon down.

“There was no one thing that made me decide
to leave. It was just a lot of muck and darkness. I wanted to be
able to sleep without having to ensure someone couldn’t sneak in
and kill me. I wanted to be able to stop looking over my shoulder.”
He traced the shell of her ear, his voice lowering. “Helix was my
codename. It could be dangerous to you if someone overheard you
mentioning it, okay?”

So that was why he’d jumped on her. He’d
been trying to protect her. She melted into his touch. “Okay.”

He shook his head. “You’re too good for
me.”

She snorted. “Get over yourself.”

He laughed, looking a bit shocked by the
sound.

She scooped up some rice in a wide spoon.
“How’d you get the museum job?”

“A friend of a friend mentioned it…actually,
it was your brother.”

She hesitated, with the spoon near her
mouth. “My brother?”

“Aston.”

Lexa swallowed. She’d always suspected Aston
hadn’t told her the entire truth about his work. “He isn’t just an
analyst, is he?”

“You’ll have to talk to him about that.”

Hmm, she would. “So, the museum job?”

“It sounded like what I was looking for. I
took a look at it, liked Marius, and thought the museum had a
classy feel to it. I was a bit put off by the know-it-all curator,
but I figured I had to compromise somewhere.”

She slapped a hand against his chest. “I
thought
you
were the conceited know-it-all, with a colossal
security obsession.”

“And you were right.”

She smiled. “But now I know all that covers
a good core with a deep vein of protective hero.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“Heroes never think they are.” She finished
the last of her food, licking her fingers. “So tomorrow, we’ll head
south-west and find something resembling a Dragon’s Spine.”

“That’s the plan.”

She frowned. She really wished they had more
to go on than that. Some clue as to what they were looking for.

Damon looked over at Dathan, who was still
wooing his girl. “Phoenix has promised me the supplies will be
ready in the morning.”

Worry ate at her. “I hope I’m not leading us
off on a wild-goose chase.”

“You’ll find it.”

A murmur of voices had them looking over.
People were clearing the food table away and clearing a space in
the center of the tent. A small group of locals carrying
instruments—some old, some modern—settled off to the side. Then a
group of dancers—men with tight trousers and bare chests and women
in barely-there gauzy skirts and colored scarves tied around their
torsos—moved to the center of the tent.

The lights dimmed.

“Looks like the entertainment’s starting,”
Damon said.

Lexa leaned forward. Seeing the local
dancing would be a great experience. She’d always been fascinated
by the customs of different cultures. And because Zerzura’s customs
had old Earth influence, she couldn’t wait to see the dancing.

When Damon grabbed her and pulled her
between his legs, she went with a smile. Settling back against him,
she decided that for the next few hours, she wouldn’t worry about
the map, the clues or the treasure hunt. She’d just relax and
enjoy.

The performers dipped, whirled and spun in a
wild, energetic dance. The women’s skirts flared out, giving
teasing glimpses of bare legs. The men’s naked chests glimmered
under the lights.

One dance melded into another. When the men
grabbed long sticks and set them alight, the dance took on a new
aspect. The flames whirling around as the dancers moved to the
beat.

But Damon was more interested in watching
Lexa.

She had a rapt expression as she watched the
dancers. God, if someone had told him he’d find so much pleasure in
watching a woman’s face, he’d never have believed them. She didn’t
hide a thing she was feeling.

The dance finished and Lexa clapped
enthusiastically with the crowd. The dancers bowed and jogged off
the makeshift stage. An old woman slowly moved into the center of
the tent, accompanied by a young girl carrying a large pillow. The
girl set it down before hurrying away. Four men, all carrying
burning torches, stood at the four corners of the stage area.

The old lady sat and Damon was amazed he
couldn’t hear her bones creaking. Her face was wrinkled but had a
sense of strength. Her skin was the color of caramel and her long,
gray hair fell behind her in a braid. She took a few moments to
settle, then she started to talk.

“I am the storyteller of Liwa Oasis and I’m
here to tell you stories of days past, of days now, and perhaps of
days to come.” Her tone was clear as a bell and rang with a note
that made everyone in the tent sit up and listen.

Damon saw the tired kids all stir and lean
forward, faces alight. Much like Lexa was doing. He rested his chin
on her head and settled in.

The woman told short tales and longer ones.
Sometimes, a few of the dancers would return to act out parts. Some
of the stories were laugh-out-loud funny and Damon chuckled,
holding a giggling Lexa close. Some were sad tales of tragedy that
had tears shimmering in her eyes.

“One last one,” the woman said. “Of dragons
and heroes.”

Lexa pressed her face against his arm, her
gaze never leaving the woman. The tale was about the first settlers
of Zerzura, back before it was called Zerzura, and the wild beasts
that lived here long before the desert sands took over.

“The wild dragons filled the sky.” The woman
traced a hand through the air. “As large as starships, with claws
as big as a child. And…” the woman, a master storyteller, paused
for effect “…they loved the taste of human flesh.”

The children in the crowd gasped. Lexa did
too.

“But the settlers fought back, eager to make
a new home. They battled the dragons, never giving up, through wins
and losses.”

The children cheered. Lexa’s fingers dug
into Damon’s arm.

“Finally, there was one dragon left. An
evil, scarred brute who refused to die. He scorched many a village
and town. He destroyed homes and crops, killed loved ones.” She
went quiet for a few seconds. “Then a young hero called Fenix,
who’d lost his family and home to the dragon’s fire, headed out to
kill him. They fought for forty days and forty nights and finally,
not far from our very village, Fenix slaughtered the dragon.” She
slammed her arms down dramatically.

The children gasped again.

“And the old dragon fell and hit the ground
so hard the planet shook. As his flesh rotted away, just his bones
were left, forming a ridge of jagged rocks known to us today as the
Devil’s Garden. But far in the past, when the goddess’ maidens
blessed our land, they called it the Dragon’s Backbone.”

The crowd broke out in applause and the
young girl came back to help the woman up.

Lexa had stiffened and Damon blinked, the
old woman’s words still echoing in his head.
Holy shit.

Lexa swiveled. “Dragon’s backbone, dragon’s
spine. Oh my God, Damon.”

“Looks like we got another clue.”

With a laugh, she twisted and kissed him. It
started out playful, but quickly changed. He wondered if he’d ever
get enough of her—her quick moods, quicker mind, and her unique
taste. He sank his hands into her hair, tugging her head back,
plundering her mouth.

They pulled apart, both of them panting.
Around them, some people were leaving, ushering tired children out
to head to their beds. Those remaining were refilling drinks,
talking and laughing. The crowd clapped again and the lights dimmed
so much that Damon and Lexa were cloaked in shadows. The only light
came from the men holding the burning torches.

The dancers returned. The men now had their
chests covered in an oil that made the light gleam off their
flexing muscles. The women had lost their colored skirts, leaving
them in near-transparent scarves, just wisps of fabric that left
little to the imagination.

“Now we honor the goddess,” a man with a
deep voice intoned.

The music started up, this time a deeper
beat. More instruments joined in, turning it into a sensual melody
that teased along the senses.

The dancers moved. There was less speed this
time, the dips and twirls more sensuous as the female dancers
twirled around the male dancers who stood still as statues. The
women teased, pulling an odd scarf off here and there, baring more
curvy flesh.

Damon sensed Lexa’s riveted attention, the
way her heartbeat sped up, and her breaths shortened. One woman
dancer moved in a gyrating solo and lost the last scarf on top
baring generous breasts that bobbed with her graceful movements.
Her male counterpart stepped in close and joined her in the
dance.

The couple circled each other, a primal
mating dance filled with anticipation.

Now all the male dancers joined the dance,
the seduction. Soon the couples were pressed against each other,
the men removing the last of the females’ outfits, leaving them all
naked, gleaming in the firelight.

Lexa shifted, like she couldn’t sit still.
The tent was filled with a charged, electric air, an anxious
expectation.

Damon stoked a hand down the outside of her
thigh. She pressed against him, but kept her gaze on the
dancers.

“This has its origins in the Temple of the
Goddess Divine,” Lexa’s voice was husky. “The goddess was about
life and love. This dance is a representation of that. A
celebration of it.”

As Damon watched, one male buried his head
between a woman’s breasts, spinning her around. Another man held a
woman upside down, his lips traveling along her bare thighs. And a
third man stood still as his partner dropped to her knees, tugging
at his trousers and freeing an impressive erection. Hell, Dathan
and Pris should have warned them about this. Actually, thinking
about Pris telling them about this dinner, Damon expected the
innkeeper knew exactly what she was sending them in to see.

Even in the shadows, Damon could tell that
watching the performance in front of them was turning Lexa on. He
let his hand slip over her smooth thigh, rubbing in small circles.
Then he slipped his hand under the hem of her skirt.

Her legs closed a little. “Damon—”

“No one can see. It’s too dark here.” He had
no doubt other little explorations were happening in the shadows.
“Just enjoy.”

He felt the sensual air wash over him,
leaving his need for her a pounding, primal thing inside him. He
wanted to claim Lexa, push himself inside her and make sure she
knew she was his, and his alone. He shook his head, trying to clear
the spell, but desire for her was a fire in his veins.