Garden of Desire: 1 (17 page)

He stepped inside, signaling to the men behind him to follow. The tunnel was long and dipped toward the end, the floor growing wetter and slimier with moss. He was careful to find firm footholds as he climbed down lest he slip.

Finally, the tunnel opened into a larger room and he peered out, trying to discern shapes in the dim, cavernous interior as his men gathered behind him.

“Fucking hell,” Darak whispered.

Before them stretched a naturally formed cave of black, igneous rock, its walls, shiny as black glass. The floor looked as though a child had tossed pebbles onto its surface as the volcanic rock cooled to form a thousand circles of graduating rings.

“There!” Akron whispered, touching Cantor’s shoulder and then pointing to something at the far end of the cave.

Something dark and unreflective huddled on the floor like a great, coiled snake.

“If our weapons don’t take him down, we’ll have hell trying to evade him,” Darak murmured.

“There’s no light in here,” Cantor said. “His night vision has to be as good, if not better, than ours with our glasses. I say, we light the place up and see what happens.”

He glanced at the men behind him and knew they were with him. Every last one grinned, their teeth gleaming.

“I’m going in closer. Fan out to the left and right of me.”

Cantor lowered himself to the floor of the inner cave and moved stealthily toward the creature, which appeared to be sleeping. He unhooked the first phospher grenade and pulled the pin, holding the lever down with his thumb to keep it from exploding in his hand.

The nearer he crept, he was better able to discern the form of the creature. Its large, muscled haunches curved into feet with long, sharp talons. Crenellated spikes ran down the center of its back. Its long curved neck ended in a head with a wide jaw and a spiny plate on its forehead. He found the placement of its eyes when they opened and the pupils dilated to black horizontal slits.

“Oh shit!”

The creature lunged to its hind legs, stretching above him to its full height, spreading thick-skinned wings. Cantor had found his dragon.

He tossed the first grenade at its feet and threw himself to the side as the creature blew a burst of noxious flame his way. Cantor rolled in the slippery moss to put out the fire that caught his sleeve, and then came to his feet quickly, tipping the latch on his lenses to lose the infrared.

The phospher-flash burned brightly, illuminating the cave. As Cantor had assumed, the creature was temporarily blinded by the bright light and confused by the sounds made by the rush of many feet as his men surrounded it.

The dragon roared, a grating hissing sound, and used its long neck to reach out to snap in the direction of the sounds, baring two rows of razor-sharp teeth. His men shouted at it, the sound echoing on the walls, and the dragon flung another ball of fire into the midst of the group, narrowly missing Darak.

“Hit him with the guns!” Cantor shouted, tossing a second grenade at the creature’s feet.

The burst and the blaze of light enraged it further and it flapped its wings, lifting off the floor, flying blindly in the direction of the tunnel. Cantor and his men ran after it, shooting laser-guided charges at the fleeing creature.

One charge, then a second, found their mark and the dragon halted in mid-air, flapping clumsily before falling to the floor in a heap.

The men approached the creature cautiously, looking for any sign it could still attack. When Cantor reached it, he kicked its scaly hide. The creature didn’t move.

“Is it still alive?” Cantor asked Ivan who had moved toward its head.

Ivan looked up. “It’s still respirating. Let’s be quick.”

Cantor pointed at Akron and two others in the team. “Take a look around. Make sure there’s not more we haven’t found. Darak,” he said, looking around for his friend, finding him on the other side of the creature’s body. “Have your guns ready if it stirs.”

Cantor knelt beside Ivan to open the creature’s mouth while Ivan shoved a long probe down its throat.

“We’ll take swabs,” Ivan said, working quickly. “I’d like to figure out how it makes fire.”

When he removed the probe, he packed away the samples, and then he pulled out a pocketknife. He cut a piece off of one of the spikes on its back then walked to the rear of the creature holding a portable sonograph above the dragon’s abdomen. “Its sexual organs are here,” he said, and laid aside the device to pry at a scaly opening near its tale.

Again the probe was inserted and Cantor winced at the depth Ivan shoved it inside. This time he attached a hand-held monitor to the end of the probe to see inside the creature.

Ivan looked up and grinned. “He’s a she.”

“Don’t let Akron see you poking the dragon,” Darak drawled. “He’s already sensitive about his sheep. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

The hunting party strode down the path toward the settlement like conquering heroes. Those tending the herds ran back to the longhouses to alert the rest of the colonists they had all returned safely and a large crowd greeted them at the bridge.

In the center of the crowd was a tall dark-haired man, whom Martha recognized immediately as Captain Adamarik Zingh. At his side, Evena, the former Cell-block Captain of the New Attica, and new wife to the Captain, beamed at Martha.

Evena rushed to her and gave her a fierce hug. “You played a very naughty trick.” She leaned back and gave her a wicked smile. “Was it worth it?”

Martha blinked at tears that quickly filled her eyes. “I was a fool to think I could entice him to stay. Now that
The
Raptor
is back, he’ll be leaving.”

Evena gave her shoulders another hug. “Let’s see how things fall. These pirates are tough nuts to crack.” She looked over at Adam, her heart in her gaze. “When they do fall they crash like mighty oaks. In the meantime, Cookie’s taken over the kitchen. He’s breaking out kegs of ale for a celebration.”

“Great. I’ll drown my sorrows.”

“Oh, by the way,” Evena said. “I’d steer clear of Mary for a little while. She’s pissed.”

Martha smiled half-heartedly. “I could use a good ass-kicking,” she muttered. It might take her mind off the pain in her chest.

She glanced back at Cantor, now surrounded by men eager to hear the tale of their adventure. Then she caught sight of Fahgwat, hovering at the sidelines. The girl slid through an opening in the crowd, striding hesitantly toward Cantor. He looked up at her approach and smiled in welcome, opening his arms. Fahgwat flew to him and he lifted her high, laughing.

Martha’s heart broke. Tears streamed down her face and she turned, running back into the woods, needing to get away where she could cry her heart out alone.

She’d gambled and lost. Cantor would never be hers. He’d take to the skies with Fahgwat, and Martha would be left behind to find another to fill the void in her heart.

Martha wandered blindly, sobbing, until her legs grew weak. She leaned against a tree and slid to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Hands settled on her shoulders, and Martha scraped at the tears on her face before looking up to see who’d followed her. Cantor and Fahgwat knelt beside her, concern etched in their features.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Cantor said, gently pulling her into his arms.

“No, leave me alone, please,” she said, her shoulders shaking again with a fresh round of sobs. His strong arms felt so good, so safe. But that was an illusion. She shoved at his chest, pushing him away. “Don’t be kind to me. The last thing I want is your pity. Just leave me alone.”

“Not until you tell me what brought this on,” he said.

“Go away!” she wailed.

“Martha, you gave me a promise,” he said, his voice stern.

“What?”

“You promised to obey me, whatever my command.”

“That was when I wanted you to fuck me,” she said with a sniff. “You’re leaving now, you can’t hold me to that promise.”

“But I will.”

Martha wiped at the tears again and lifted her chin, angry now at his insensitivity. “You’re a bastard, Cantor Marlowe.”

“Tell me, Martha.”

“All right!” She scowled at him and folded her arms over her chest. “The Captain’s back and you’re finally getting your wish. So good riddance!”

“What’s my wish, love?” A little smile curved one corner of his lips.

How dare he laugh at her pain! “To leave! To go back to being a pirate. Adam’s here, you’re free, now.”

“I am free. He’s agreed to take over the reins as Governor to our colony.”

“Good for you. Have a good life. Now, leave me alone.”

“But Martha,” Fahgwat said, her face white with concern. “Cantor is—”

“No, Violet.” Cantor held up his hand. “Let’s hear her out.” He turned back to Martha. “Why does this make you sad?”

Martha looked at him like he was crazy. “Because you’re leaving me. Taking her. By the way, her name’s not Violet,” she said nastily.

“No?” He looked at Fahgwat. “Why did you lie to me?”

Fahgwat’s face crumpled. “Because my name’s ugly!” she wailed.

Cantor threw up his hands. “Now, don’t you start the waterworks, too! One’s more than I can handle.”

“Well that won’t be your problem for much longer, will it?” Martha said, gratified he wasn’t laughing anymore.

“This is all your fault,” he said, irritation in his tone. “You’ve made her cry.”

“You make me cry!”

“For fuck sake! Enough!” he shouted.

Both women stared at him as if he’d grown two heads.

Cantor gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. He reached down and grabbed both women by an arm and hauled them to their feet. “You’re coming with me.”

“Now see here,” Martha said, fighting his grasp as he forced them down the path. “You don’t have any claim on me. You said it yourself. You won’t be bound by me—and you’re not the governor anymore. You have no power over me.”

“Shut up, Martha!”

Martha let anger wash over her in a red tide. “Oooh! Oaf! Pig! You let me go!”

They broke into the clearing and the crowd still gathered at the bridge turned toward them.

“Hey Cantor!” Darak yelled up to them.  “Are you cutting her loose?”

“Fuck off, Darak!”

Laughter from the crowd shot Martha’s anger up another notch. She pulled back again and aimed a kick at his ankles.

In a dizzying move, Cantor grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet, then turned and did the same with Fahgwat.

“Bastard! Put me down!”

Cantor took off across the field toward the path leading to his cabin, carrying both women on his hips, laughter and shouted suggestions following them up the hill.

Cantor turned back to the crowd in a move that made Martha’s head swirl. “I think I can manage quite well alone. Get lost!”

“How are you going to get them through the door?” Akron asked.

“Will you be needing a stick to beat her?” Nicky shouted.

“She prefers his hand!” Akron shouted back.

“Oooh! You’re going to regret this Cantor Marlowe,” Martha screeched, and flailed her legs striking nothing but air.

“I don’t think so, love,” Cantor said. “I have you right where I want you.”

The cabin loomed in front of them and Martha wriggled desperately to free herself. Cantor didn’t stop. He lifted his leg and kicked the door open, carrying the women in sideways. He tossed them onto the bed.

Then he went back to the door and closed it against the crowd outside his door, latching it shut. He leaned back against it and looked at the women, scurrying to the side of the bed. “Now, we’re going to finish that conversation.”

Cantor blew out a breath and forced himself to relax. His first thought had been to take Martha straight to the bed and love her until she begged for release. He could get her there, he knew, where she’d deny him nothing—give him everything.