Untamable Lover (Worlds of Lemuria: Earth Colony Book 2) (25 page)

Jonue placed her hand on Leon’s shoulder. “Maybe we should help her…help Demir. You could round up the male warriors. I’d get the females—”

“No! Absolutely not.” He grabbed Jonue’s hand and pushed her away. “You are a mated female as well. I won’t have Hallan end up a widower like me.” A twitch in the skin around his eye betrayed his pain.

Aramie’s chest constricted. Leon had lost Kitani. In the midst of her desire to save Demir, she’d forgotten that others were in pain as well. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Leon. Kitani was a good warrior. She helped Jonue and I escape with the blue sunstone that saved Demir.” 

He glared at her. “Like I said before, she died because of you. Mated females shouldn’t fight.”

“Mated females have a place on the battlefield.” She shook her head. There was no winning an argument with this male, not in his current state of mind. “I’m leaving. Do I need to fight you?”

His eyes narrowed. The muscle in his jaw twitched. Silence stretched out for several seconds. 

She’d bested him not long ago. Did he really think he’d be able to take her down? She didn’t think so. She rose up, arching her shoulders in a display of dominance. “Move. Out. Of. The. Way.”

Leon stiffened, but didn’t attack her. He held his shoulders back, chest raised. They were in a standoff. 

The temperature in the passageway dropped several degrees and their breaths became visible in the air. A low rumble emanated from the Keep and fine dirt and rocks sifted through the air.

Aramie slowly walked past Leon, careful not to let her guard down.

Jonue stepped aside and motioned with her hand in a gesture to proceed. “Good luck.”

Aramie bolted along the corridor, eager to reach the forest and find Demir. 

“Aramie!” 

Jonue’s shout stopped Aramie in her tracks. She glanced behind her.

“Gaetan…he said to tell you…the stone…it’s missing.”

A large ball of fear grew in her stomach, festering, spreading throughout her body. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her arms. With renewed energy, she sprinted toward the Portal Navigation Center and a way out of this place.

As she rounded the corner, she skidded to a halt inside the portal room. The smell of pine and fresh rain still permeated the air. The portal must have opened recently. Somehow, she’d missed the chimes.

Rin polished a red sunstone in a rag. He stared at her, as if she had an extra eye. “I didn’t expect to see ya here again so soon.” 

“Can you open a portal for me? Near the town of Tygh Valley?” 

“Well, of course I can, but why would ’cha want ta go there?” He placed the stone in one of the inner rings of the porte stanen.

“I just…need to. Please, open a portal.” She stood on the raised platform where the gateway would appear.

“Dern it, get off there. Ya have to jump through it.” He motioned for her to move, his lips pursed.

If the situation weren’t so dire, she’d find amusement in his reaction, but her heavy heart was too worried about Demir.

The little male circled his hands over the porte stanen, moving faster and faster with each round. A mist grew in the room, swirling until it coalesced into a ball. In the center, the forest solidified and the smell of pine and wet grass filtered into the room.

She didn’t wait for his approval and dove through the opening, taking her fears and hopes with her.

Chapter Forty-Three

Aramie peered through the trees at the top of a forested ridge. A vast landscape of rolling hills filled with a patchwork of green lay before her. The sounds of domesticated animals—cows, horses, pigs—along with their stench, carried along the breeze. Human farmland.

She didn’t like humans, didn’t understand their motivations and their need to control and destroy their own home—Earth. Interaction with them wasn’t forbidden, but highly discouraged. Homo sapiens could be transformed and turned into players in the game, but once changed, they couldn’t return to their former lives. As long as they didn’t find out Lemurians existed, they still had a chance of remaining human. 

Aramie released the tree branch and let it fall back into place. The pine tree’s pointy tips poked at her arm, as if pushing her along. She needed to leave the shelter of the forest to reach Ram’s hideout. 

Shaking her head, she followed a trail that led through the ever diminishing forest. A breeze kicked up. The familiar, unpleasant fragrance of Gossum set her on edge and fueled her excitement. 

The farmhouse wasn’t too hard to find. Surrounding the property was a stand of alder trees, the tall, skinny branches reaching for the sky. Closer in, a picket fence surrounded the house and gave it an air of innocence the home didn’t possess. An old swing hung from cables attached to the ceiling on the wrap-around porch. Shadows stretched behind the curtains, the movement catching her attention.

She crept closer, using the trees for cover. To encourage herself, she traced her fingers under the lining of her belt and over her new throwing stars. The cold metal on her fingertips was a familiar comfort. She envisioned her fictional father giving her advice, helping her in the most basic of ways. The mental images fueled her with confidence, her slow breaths easing the tension in her chest.

Muffled voices, heated in conversation, escaped through the cracks in the walls. A loud laugh burst from the home, one Aramie recognized—Ram. She ran through an old garden and stepped on an overripe tomato. The fruit squished under the toe of her shoe. Hiding behind an overgrown rhododendron bush, she willed her heartbeat to slow.

Demir.
She touched her throat where he’d marked her. The flesh had healed, leaving a ragged scar, evidence he still lived. If he’d died, the mark would’ve faded and disappeared when his heart stopped beating. Determination, raw and powerful, welled up in her chest. She loved him and would find him, no matter what. 

While casing the house, she’d thought through her plan. She needed to create a diversion, something to draw out the Gossum. 

The high-pitched squeal of a pig pierced the night air. She glanced toward the sound. Behind the house, on a spot of land next to the road, was a large barn. An idea formed in her mind and she smiled. Keeping close to the bushes, she approached the building and the animals within. 

As she entered the structure, the animals quieted. A tenseness filled the air. Three pigs, a goat, and two horses called this place home. She didn’t want to spook them, have them raise a ruckus and alert the Gossum, so she crouched to make herself as small as possible.

As she grew closer, the horses skittered in their stall, pounding the ground with their feet. With angry grunts, the pigs moved to the rear of their pen. 

The goat placed its head over the stall door, its mouth moving in a rhythmic chew. White with a dark ring around one eye, the billy seemed interested. The goat would serve her purpose and maybe he’d enjoy the freedom she offered.

She removed her jacket. The material already carried her perfume, but she wanted to call attention to the coat, so she rubbed the sleeves against her mouth, marking it with her scent glands.

With slow movements, she opened the stall and grabbed the goat by his collar. The animal mewled, but he didn’t fight her. She wrapped her coat around the small creature, securing the collar with the top button. After leading the goat to the entrance of the barn, she gave the small critter a whack on the behind. 

The goat ran down the road, its loud bleat carrying on the wind. The other animals stirred at the commotion. Time to hide. She exited the barn and waited for the excitement to begin.

*****

“Those damn animals.” Ram slammed his glass on the Formica countertop. Vodka spilled over the lip, coating his fingers with the fiery liquid. He squeezed the glass in his fingers.
Tink.
A crack ran up the side.

Jakar closed the pantry door, a bottle of Smirnoff’s in one hand. He pointed at two of the brood who sat at the rickety kitchen table. The sound of shuffling cards was like an undercurrent to the noise outside. “You and you, go see what’s spooked the animals. Find the others and take them with you. It’s time to let off a little steam anyway.”

As the males stood, chair legs scraped against the wooden floor. The screech made Ram wince. One ran outside, the other retreated farther into the farmhouse to find his brethren.

“Tell me again, why do we have these,” Ram waved his hand in the air, “animals?”

“To blend in with the humans. Besides, they came with the property. The prior renters left them here to compensate the owner for unpaid rent, at least that’s what he told me.” Jakar shrugged. 

“What do you think spooked them?”

“My guess—coyote. This is the third time this week.” 

The six remaining members of his brood raced out the front door. One male hung back, the largest of the bunch—Oliver. He gave Ram a quick nod, intelligence in his dark orbs. “We’ll catch the critter this time. I promise you that.”

Ram raised an eyebrow. “See that you do.” He liked this new warrior he’d acquired. The male seemed to have more going on upstairs than many of the humans he’d turned. 

Ram tsked. “I give the mutt credit. It takes balls to keep coming back here.”

“Balls or stupidity, either works.” Jakar folded his hands together, squeezing his palms tight. “Shall I supervise?”

“Not this time. Let’s see what Oliver can do.” A wave of dizziness crested over Ram. His vision wavered. The kitchen dimmed, and a smooth, flat surface, the color of day-old coffee, came into focus. His nerves tingled at the vision of the wooden platform. Ram shook his head to clear the scene from his mind. He glanced at the door to the root cellar then turned his focus on Jakar. He couldn’t keep the sense of giddiness out of his voice. “Our guest is awake. Perhaps he’s ready for another round.”

Jakar nodded, a sly smile crossing his face. “Splendid idea, my lord.”

Ram pushed away from the counter, leaving the cracked glass to swim in the spilled drink. The skin on his arms tingled with anticipation. Their new toy had provided endless hours of entertainment. Ram couldn’t wait for more.

Chapter Forty-Four

Chains bound Demir. As he crouched on all fours, hard metal bit into his knees and hands. Pain radiated up his thighs and arms. He strained against the bonds, but only succeeded in reopening the cuts on his back and buttocks. The scent of his own blood filled his nose. 

Ram had a penchant for torture. Demir had reached that conclusion early on. The countless tools on the workbench—screwdriver,  pliers, hammer—seemed innocuous enough until used on skin, muscle, or bone. He’d endured the torment, refusing to scream even when the pain threatened to knock him out. At some point, thankfully, it had.

He’d awakened a short time ago. Thanks to his Lemurian lineage, most of the cuts and bruises had already healed.

Anger burned deep inside, festering, building in intensity, calling to his feline predator. With his cat’s preternatural power, he tried to shift, only to have Ram take control of his mind. A feral growl erupted from his chest.

The door to his new prison swung open and crashed against the wall. Bright light from the kitchen illuminated the stairs and cast an eerie glow on the tool bench. This couldn’t be good. Demir ground his teeth.

Ram poked his head through the doorway. His frame and the cap he wore blocked the light. The shadow of an ax appeared, and a deep chuckle filtered into the room. “Wendy, I’m home.” 

His stench preceded him as he sauntered down the stairs, the ax over his shoulder. “I’ll bet you haven’t seen that movie, have you?”

Jakar followed, like the little rat he was, slinking after his master. 

Demir tried to wrench against the chains, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. 

Ram giggled.
Grab yourself and squeeze.

Demir’s hand reached to his crotch, and he fondled his nuts. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. His fingers clenched around his scrotum with a vise-like grip. Intense pain shot through his body and his vision faded.

No you don’t. Stay awake.

A muffled groan escaped his lips as he slumped onto the cut-off tabletop. The chains on his ankles bit into the skin and blood trickled over his foot. He didn’t even feel the cut, his body still reeling from his attack to his groin. 

A part of him deep within accepted the punishment, considered it justice for killing Aramie, the one female that had ever stood up to him. As much as she made him feel whole, he didn’t deserve her. A lump formed in his stomach, adding insult to injury.

Ram hefted the ax, sizing up Demir, but then he shrugged and placed the tool against the wall. “This would cause too much damage. It’s not my intent to kill you…not yet, anyway.” 

With a smirk, he sauntered over to the workbench and pawed through the tools and debris. He selected a pick and pressed the pointed tip against his thumb. The skin dimpled, but the instrument didn’t penetrate the tissue. He looked at Jakar and shook his head. Selecting a hammer, he hefted the heavy utensil in his palm as if testing the weight, then put it back on the table. 

The evil Gossum hummed to himself. He glanced at Demir and winked.

Demir wanted to growl, to kick, to lash out anyway he could, but he couldn’t break the hold Ram had over him. His frustration knew no bounds.

 Ram grasped a box knife between his fingers and pressed the latch, inching the small cutting tool out of its case. The edge of the razor blade glinted in the light. “Such a simple implement.” His tongue snaked out and cracked the air like a whip. “This will do nicely.” 

Naked and bleeding in front of his enemy, Demir didn’t think his humiliation could get any worse. 

He couldn’t prevent the impending torture, so he searched for a distraction, something to concentrate on besides his pain. Visions of Aramie entered his mind, her last breath exhaling from her body as he bit into her shoulder. His chest ached, chasing away the physical pain, but spurring an emotional burden that was beyond compare. He deserved whatever Ram gave him. A part of him wanted to suffer, to pay for what he’d done to Aramie, but no amount of torture could ever be enough to erase his anguish.