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Authors: Kaitlyn O'Connor

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BOOK: The Spawning
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“On their own world. Not this world.”

“That was not part of the bargain!” the trader said angrily.

“It
is
part of the bargain,” Khan growled menacingly. “I will not barter half a load of
jasumi
for such weak creatures without at least some assurance that they will not sicken and die the moment you are gone!”

Anger tightened the lizard-man’s features for several moments, but finally he

allowed the tension to ease. “I have a device,” he grumbled.

Khan relaxed, as well. “Good. We will go to your vessel to fetch what I need while your machines load the
jasumi
.”

“You are certain you want the chains removed?” the trader asked doubtfully.

“They are skittish and liable to run if you release them before you have had time to break them in.”

Khan’s upper lip curled in distaste. “Remove the chains.”

Shrugging, the trader ordered the robots to remove the manacles and chains. He was just as glad Khan hadn’t insisted upon keeping them. He was certain to need them again and it would offset the additional bartering items.

* * * *

Miranda’s heart seemed to leap right up into her throat and try to choke her when she overheard the argument between Khan and the trader. The very moment she’d heard Khan order the chains removed it had leapt into her mind that he’d presented her with, quite possibly, her only chance of escape.

She was tired and weak, now, true, and her feet were cut and sore beyond the fact that Teron had said she had a slight sprain, but she’d managed to walk on it. She thought she might be able to sprint at least to the edge of the jungle and disappear.

Her heart thundering in her ears, she swiveled her head just enough that she could gauge the distance between herself and the gates. There were no guards, she saw, and she’d seen that the majority of the Hirachi had begun to migrate once more toward the sea—apparently to collect more of the
jasumi,
though she didn’t particularly care as long as they left.

THE SPAWNING Kaitlyn O’Connor 39

Khan was still standing with the trader, had in fact said that he would go with him to the ship.

The robots would be occupied unloading the
jasumi
that had been traded.

Closing her eyes again once she’d determined that she was no more than fifteen feet from the gate, she forced herself to take relaxing breaths. She lifted her head from her knees after a few moments and surveyed the scene as casually as she could.

The trader, she saw, had ordered one of the robots to return to the ship for a bin to hold the
jasumi.
One was busy unfastening the manacles and removing the chains. The third was heading toward the bin it was to unload.

Discovering her heart rhythm was becoming more and more erratic, Miranda

closed her eyes briefly, trying to regain control of her heart rate, forcing herself to take slow, even breaths, although she felt for several moments as if she might pass out from the effort. Khan, she discovered when she glanced his way again, hadn’t moved, damn his hide! He seemed determined to watch until the damned robot had finished.

Containing her anxiety with an effort, she focused on watching the robot herself, but she could feel the tension growing inside her the closer it came. By the time it reached her, her heart felt as if it was pounding a hundred miles an hour.

Khan, the difficult beast, took that moment to move, striding down the line to stop for several uncomfortable moments and stare at her as the robot finished and moved to Carol.

“Gerek and Adar will bring food and water. Do not wander beyond the gates.

The jungle is dangerous.”

Feeling his gaze on her, Miranda lifted her head, trying for a look of innocence since she couldn’t think straight and couldn’t decide any other way to disguise her thoughts. He frowned thoughtfully but apparently dismissed whatever doubts had crossed his mind and followed the trader to the gate.

Relief flooded her. She relaxed fractionally, watching until he disappeared from view and then counting off the seconds and minutes in her head. She’d made it to a count of five minutes when she saw three of the Hirachi heading toward them—the healer and two others—Khan had called them Gerek and Adar—all loaded down with their ‘mercy’

gifts. Anger flickered through her.

Five minutes—even as long as Khan’s stride was, she doubted he’d gone far

enough yet even to lose sight of the gate. She debated risking it anyway and then discovered she’d wavered too long. The three Hirachi reached them. Teron headed toward the first woman, however, settled the bag he carried down and examined her broken finger again. The other two headed toward the center of the group but, before she’d relaxed, she saw that the one carrying what looked like it must be some sort of water bottle formed from leather, was heading in her direction while the other, the one with food, was making his way back toward the doctor.

Her throat closed as she stared at the women who lifted the bottles and drank.

She was so thirsty! Maybe she should at least wait and grab a bottle before she tried to make a run for it?

“I could not find many of these. You must share between two. Don’t try to drink too much at once or it will make you ill.”

Miranda watched him, listening as he repeated the instructions each time he

stopped, waiting, her focus divided between the water and the chance of escape. Finally, THE SPAWNING Kaitlyn O’Connor 40

he stopped in front of her and held out the last container. He didn’t repeat his instructions as he had each time before. He looked directly at her, but his gaze seemed unfocused, distracted.

Miranda was far more interested in the water, though. Swallowing with an effort against her bone dry throat, she took the bottle and studied it. The neck had been formed into a spout and something had been used as a stopper to seal the water in. Even as she pulled the stopper out it occurred to her that Carol was probably just as thirsty as she was. No doubt if she made off with the water they’d get her more, but it might take a while if they gave chase, and she was pretty sure they would.

Reluctantly, she handed the bottle to Carol. “You drink first.”

Carol grabbed it eagerly, nearly snatching it out of her hand, turned it up, and squirted the water all over her face.

She could see from the alien’s expression that he was torn between a desire to laugh and irritation. “You must take care not to squeeze until you have the spout in your mouth,” he said, his voice a little shaky.

Carol glared at him and tried again—successfully, gulping the water until he

reached for the bottle and then struggling briefly with him to keep it when he tried to take it away.

Miranda felt like choking her. Not only had she tried to drink the whole damned thing, but she’d wasted god only knew how much by squirting it all over her face.

Taking the bottle when he finally offered it to her, she tipped it up as he’d instructed and filled her mouth, swishing the moisture around a moment before she swallowed.

He was studying her approvingly when she lowered the bottle and glanced at him a little irritably, wondering why the hell he was crouched in front of her instead of leaving. With more reluctance than before, she handed the bottle back to Carol. Instead of watching her while she drank, though, she glanced casually down the line to see what the other two Hirachi were up to.

It didn’t help her feelings to discover they’d been moving steadily closer while she and Carol and the ‘waterboy’ had been fighting over her bottle of water.

And he didn’t seem inclined to move either, damn it!

Taking the bottle when it was handed to her again, she slid another glance at the approaching Hirachi. It was now or never, she decided abruptly. Tipping the bottle back, she took another drought. Instead of handing it to him when he reached for it, however, she slammed it into the side of his head as hard as she could. Fortunately, since the bottle wasn’t really all that hard, the Hirachi had crouched in front of her. The blow was enough to knock him off balance.

Shooting to her feet the moment he teetered and began to fall, clutching her

bottle/weapon to her like a football, Miranda leapt over him before he even hit the ground and raced toward the gate as fast as she could fly. All hell broke loose behind her, but she’d expected it. She just hoped she could make it into the jungle and hide before they’d gathered their wits enough to give chase.

Pain shot up from her sprained ankle every time her weight came down on it,

worse now because she didn’t have the ‘support’ of the damned manacle, but she gritted her teeth and determinedly ignored it beyond trying to make sure she didn’t twist it again.

She could favor it, maybe, once she’d managed to reach the cover of the jungle.

The women were screaming like banshees as she skidded around the gate.

THE SPAWNING Kaitlyn O’Connor 41

Uncertain of whether they were cursing her for leaving them behind or shouting encouragement, she risked a quick glance in that direction as she rounded the gate.

The Hirachi she’d hit was still sprawled in the dirt, staring at her with a look of bemusement and what almost seemed like admiration on his face. Teron, hands on hips, wore a similar expression. The third man had recovered enough to throw down the food he had and charge after her.

Panting for breath, Miranda careened through the opening. She caught a glimpse of Khan, far down the trail now with the trader.

Fuck! Dismissing the discovery that she was now caught between two of them

when she’d been sure Khan had had enough time to get too far to be a problem, she charged full tilt toward the jungle. The foliage sliced at her bare skin as she plunged through the barrier it created. Ignoring the sting, she forced her way deeper for a few moments and then changed directions, hoping she hadn’t gotten turned around and would find herself heading directly toward the path Khan was on.

Behind her, she heard a shout from the ‘caterer’ and a response from Khan ahead of her.

Either he could bellow really loudly, Miranda thought uneasily, or he was closer than she thought he should be. Between their bellows and the noise they were making thrashing through the brush, it seemed pretty obvious they were closing in on her.

Reversing directions again, Miranda charged toward the path—or where she thought the path lay, hoping she could race across it and into the jungle on the other side. She hadn’t wanted to go that way. She knew it most likely led to the sea—unless the body of water she’d seen wasn’t an ocean at all.

With a mixture of relief and dismay, she broke from the jungle and stumbled

across the beaten path within a few moments—dismay because she was a lot closer to it than she’d realized. It seemed obvious the vegetation was so thick she’d be lost in a very short length of time. She wanted to elude the ‘masters’. She didn’t want to get so hopelessly lost that she couldn’t find her bearings, couldn’t find her way to food or water.

She didn’t have time to think, or worry, about it at the moment, though.

Dismissing the fear, she bounded across the path and into the vegetation on the other side. Despite the thundering of her heart in her ears, however, she heard crashing sounds so close behind her she expected any moment to be grabbed.

And she still screamed when two arms snaked around her.

Dropping to her knees before the arms could close tightly enough to cage her, she slipped through his grip, rolled between his legs and, jerking her knees to her chest, drove both feet into his legs just at the back of his knees. Unfortunately, he’d already begun to turn toward her. She managed to buckle his knees, but instead of landing on them facing safely away from her, he began to topple toward her.

Screaming when she saw the mountain of flesh crashing toward her, Miranda

tried to roll out of the way. The thick foliage prevented it, allowing only enough room for her to roll onto her side and no further. Before she could manage to get her arms and legs under her and shove to her feet, he crashed into her, taking her down with him.

Stunned, Miranda inventoried herself for anything that might be crushed, maimed, or mangled. Either she’d managed to clear the majority of his weight, or he’d twisted away from her even as he fell—maybe both. In any case, she discovered she’d only been clobbered by one hand and meaty forearm. Grunting with effort, she tried to wiggle out THE SPAWNING Kaitlyn O’Connor 42

from under his arm and jump to her feet again. His arm tightened. Gripping his hand with both of hers, she tried to peel his fingers back. She thought she’d succeeded, briefly, but then discovered he’d only lifted his hand to get a better grip. Which they both discovered wasn’t as easy as it might have been due entirely to the fact that she was slick with sweat by that time and as slippery as a greased pig—loathe though she was to consider that metaphor in conjunction with herself.

Squirming and shoving at him, she managed to claw her way almost free of him

even as he rolled to try to add his weight to tip the scales in his favor.

His face landed in the crack of her ass.

The moment she felt his nose spear between the cheeks of her ass, Miranda reared upward, twisted around, and popped him on the top of his head three times before he managed to grab her wrist. Khan lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. “Gods damn it, woman! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Miranda glared back at him. “Guess!” she snarled.

Briefly, he looked taken aback at her vehemence, but then a scowl descended over his face.

Miranda discovered he could ‘do’ rage like no one she’d ever seen in her life.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was closer to seven feet tall than six and about as broad across the fucking shoulders as she was tall?

“Did you catch her?”

“Yes!” Khan snarled in response to the question of the other man, who sounded

like he was somewhere behind them.

“Is she hurt?”

“Not yet.”

BOOK: The Spawning
7.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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