WastelandRogue (7 page)

Finally, the door swung open. “What’s wrong with this hunk
of junk?” he demanded.

Rye shrugged. The steamy hiss suddenly gave her a clue.

“You said you’d take me to that stash you found, so you must
know how to fix this machine.” He hopped down and waved his knife at her. “Get
this thing running. I wanna see what’s in those boxes you mentioned.”

Thinking of the metal cans she had seen in the cargo area,
she suspected the steam engine needed water. “And you’ll take me with you?”

He rubbed his arm against his drippy nose, wiping it dry.
“Why should I?”

“Maybe there’s something in those boxes you’ll need help
getting,” she said and then added, “Two of us would have a much better chance
against the man who has the stuff.”

He took a few moments seemingly to think over the idea and
then asked, “And you know exactly where that stash is hidden?”

“I do. So, do we go?”

When he nodded, he proved he was as dumb as he looked.
Taking her was a big mistake, at least for one of them, so she’d have to stay
alert.

Sevrin woke slowly. Semiconscious of his surroundings, he
lingered in the halfway point between still asleep and fully awake. Without
movement next to him, he lay motionless and silent to give Rye all the time she
needed to rest. It wasn’t as if he had any schedule to keep.

He thought of his sleep vision, one in which he found a
settling contentment. Often his dreams had a senseless, unimportant aspect to
them, the themes random and unrelated. Rye had fully invaded his subconscious
thoughts that night. She made an impression that took him by surprise. Her
presence brought clarity to his future.

In the past, he had seen his share of beautiful, intelligent
females, each ordinary and unmemorable. Rye was different. Since his
sympathetic nature often dragged him into situations a less noble man might
avoid, the circumstances of their meeting might have had some effect on his
view. Still, she had a unique and appealing influence on his emotions.

He turned his head and looked at the dwindling fire. He debated
adding wood to keep the cavern warmer for Rye. Then a better idea sprouted.
What better way to warm up than in each other’s arms?

He shifted and rolled to his side to face her, to gather her
close and embrace her in his heart, as he had never thought he’d want to do.
Especially with someone he had just met and had little knowledge about.

Happier than he’d ever been, he said cheerfully, “Hey,
sunshine…”

Sevrin bolted upright seeing the vacant space next to him.

“Rye?” he called out.

No answer.

A strange panic causing his heart to pound prompted him to
shout louder, “Rye?”

She still didn’t reply.

“She’s gone outside. That’s it,” he said, consoling his
worries. “I should have explained about the relief facilities in the corner.”

Though, he decided, for what he found acceptable doing in
the open area of the cavern, she might feel she needed more privacy. Females
were like that.

He hopped off the ledge of his sleeping alcove and stretched
from side to side and front to back, working the kinks out of his muscles.
Movement did wonders as his body rejuvenated from his stiff sleeping position.

By the time he had dressed, he realized Rye wasn’t just
doing personal things. She had left.
Good.
He didn’t need anyone tagging
along with him. Besides enjoying his life free of hindrances, his stamina would
never hold up to such intense sex on a daily basis.

Still, he thought of Rye’s passion. How she clung to him
throughout the night, spreading mind-numbing kisses over his face. She had a
fiery spirit he hadn’t gotten enough of, but there he was without the chance to
explore her thoroughly.

“Damn,” he groaned, rubbing his hand over his crotch to
soothe his hardened cock. Just the thought of her luscious body with the
generous curves generated a deep ache.

He extinguished the fire, picked up his coat and headed up
the ladder to the trapdoor.

In the shack, he paused. He closed his eyes and rubbed his
hand over them.
How could I misinterpret mind-blowing sex for a genuine,
sentimental connection?
It hurt. Whether it was his feelings or his ego
didn’t matter. He hated experiencing the loss of anyone. That dislike had
motivated him to be a loner for a long time.

The moment he left the shack, he sensed something different,
something wrong with his surroundings.

He examined the ground, seeking signs someone had ventured
into his territory. Surveying the ruts in the sandy soil, he recognized the
wide ribbed strips of pressed dirt marking the path of a steam-trekker vehicle.
He ran to the tangled brush at the side of the hill and saw his camouflage
netting lying in a heap on the ground. His steam-trekker was gone and his steel
crates of weaponry and other supplies lay mostly destroyed.

Anger flared. “Damn that cunning little bitch.”

Cold disdain shrank back all his desire, save one—to spank
that female’s bottom until she begged for forgiveness.

“Don’t get involved. Leave everyone to their own devices.
No, I had to be an idiot and save a sneaky, scheming female who destroyed my
stuff and stole my ride.”

He thought over everything he knew of the
lamian
breed’s healing properties. Allium or not, Rye’s body should have healed
quicker. She had tricked him. There was no other way to look at the situation.
She lulled him into a false sense of security, all the while plotting to rob
him of whatever she deemed valuable.

The distinct rumble of an engine turned him around. He saw
his steam-trekker in the distance, barreling across the rough terrain. How had
he slept through its earlier departure? The machine wasn’t made to be quiet,
only practical.

The cumbersome vehicle continued toward him, coming to a
stop a short distance away.

What is she up to?
Wary of the new development, he
watched Rye open the door.

Livid and unable to wait until she was out of his steam-trekker,
he yelled, “What the hell do you think you were doing taking my vehicle?”

Her brow wrinkled with a scowl. “I thought I’d go out and
get you some breakfast,” she answered sarcastically.

Fuming, he grabbed his hair and pulled at it. “That’s not a
toy to go gallivanting around the wastelands in. You could have run into any
number of bandits who would have taken it without a second thought.” He stormed
toward her.

“Stop,” she said quietly with her hand raised and her palm
facing him as if that would keep him from tearing into her with a dozen choice
words.

Yet it wasn’t her voice or her motion that kept him
immobile. Her gaze had bored caution into him. He watched her slowly climb out
of the steam-trekker onto the track wheel. For a second his thoughts veered
from irritation to the way she looked sexier than ever in the ragged clothing
she had picked out of his rubbish pile. The tattered dark-blue pants she had on
hugged her hips. The unusual long red high-heeled boots gave her already
statuesque figure more height. When he had found the strange footwear in a
crumbling building in one of the city ruins he passed through, he didn’t think
he’d ever see them on a female’s feet. They were not practical for walking any
sort of distance.

Rye still wore his shirt, loosely tucked into the waistband
of her pants. The missing laces left the front open halfway down to her navel.
The visibility of her curvaceous breasts instantly revved up his undersexed
body.

His overindulgent mind retreated from the visions he had of
doing her right there on the track wheel when a man climbed out of the vehicle
behind her.

Sevrin moved back a few steps. “Who’s your friend?” He
wrapped his fingers around the handle of his short-barreled gun hanging in the
holster.

Chaotic thoughts ran through his head about Rye setting him
up, tricking him into bringing her to one of his lairs so she and her friend
could rob him.

“Friend? Yeah, right,” she grumbled.

Rye’s tone made Sevrin discard the first scenario for
another equally vile trap. It wasn’t unusual for scavengers to go to extreme
lengths to steal. When they saw his steam-trekker coming in the distance the
day before, she let her lover cut her up and leave her in the ditch for him to
find.

Sevrin knew he shouldn’t have stopped.

He was a stupid, gullible idiot. His thoughts were so
fixated on his amorous and heartfelt emotions, he’d let a treacherously
conniving bitch bed him and then go off and fetch her mate.

Sevrin swung his arm up and aimed the gun at the couple.

“I wouldn’t do that.” The tall man brought a knife up
against Rye’s throat. “I swear I’ll cut this
lamian
bitch’s head off.”

Another ploy?
Did they think he’d believe they
weren’t together?

“I didn’t plan on coming back, Sevrin,” Rye explained. “Only
I’m not used to driving something as big and complicated as the steam-trekker.
It stalled and unfortunately this trash came along and demanded I hand over
your vehicle and all the contents.”

While Sevrin had believed they were in cahoots, gut instinct
made him doubt. At least he hoped it was instinct and not a residual desire
muddling sane reasoning.

“Then why are you here?” Sevrin asked.

“So you can kill him,” she said with clear directness.

Sevrin already had that in mind.

He thought through the consequences of squeezing the
trigger. Even if his shot hit center of the man’s head, it would knock the man
back, forcing the knife into Rye’s neck.

She twisted to the right as if to give him the opportunity,
but it wasn’t far enough for him to take the chance. He’d not risk her life for
anything.

“Put down that bullet launcher, mister.” The man swayed from
side to side, making him a moving target.

“You’ll let her go unharmed?” Sevrin stretched his trigger
finger out, showing his willingness to do as the man asked.

“I ain’t a killer. You gimme what valuables you got,
including the steam-trekker.” He jerked his head toward the vehicle. “Then I’m
on my way.”

“Don’t do it, Sevrin.” Rye gave him a warning glare. “You
can’t trust he won’t kill us both.”

“Shut up, fanger bitch,” the man growled at Rye.

Sevrin rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.
There wasn’t a female on Earth who would let that kind of rudeness pass
unnoticed. When Rye’s lips curled away from her teeth, showing the glistening
white of her fangs as she hissed with anger, Sevrin trusted her not to be part
of some plot to rob him.

He also knew he had to defuse the situation. “Easy there,
mister… What do I call you?”

“Levor, why?”

“Levor, her name is Rye.” Sevrin slowly unlatched the gun,
emptied out the ammo and tossed bullets one way and the gun the other. “I think
she’d prefer you call her that instead of fanger bitch. Females are touchy
about being called names. It makes them act irrational. We don’t want to see
her crazy now, do we?”

Sevrin ignored the infuriated look from Rye.

“She does anything, I’ll kill her,” Levor said.

“I’ve dropped my weapon, so how about letting her go.”
Sevrin watched Levor’s hand, the slight tremor shaking the knife closer to
Rye’s jugular. “You can’t carry anything if you’re holding her.”

Levor pushed Rye away. He held his arm out, aiming the knife
at Sevrin. “Take me to your stash.” He waved Rye to go also.

“What do you think it is I’m hoarding?” Sevrin asked Levor
as he glanced at Rye for a clue.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell him anything specific,” Rye
said.

“You brought him here. He must think I have something of
value.” Sevrin kept his voice low.

“I think the steam-trekker says it all,” she grunted and
then whispered, “If you did as I asked and killed him, we’d not be in this
situation.”

“I didn’t have a decent shot.”

“With that gun you could have fired a bullet straight
through me and gotten rid of our problem.”

“Shoot you?” Sevrin walked toward the mine shack and opened
the door. “I’ve never hurt a female in my life.”

“I’m a
lamian
, capable of healing, remember?” Her
quick glance flashed unconcealed irritation as she stepped aside for Levor.

“Yeah, well, the next time you decide to bring a thieving
slug around, I may just forget my manners and damn well shoot you.” Sevrin
moved to the other side of the open door.

Levor came forward. He motioned for him and Rye to go
inside.

Sevrin went first. He stood on the trapdoor that led down
into the mine cavern where he kept the best of his stuff. Usually he had junk
piled over the entrance so no one wandering in would go down there.

“This is it,” he told Levor, not thinking of anything he had
as very valuable. “Nothing special, as you can see. Besides the broken
furniture and piles of junk, there are a few cases of tin-sealed government
food, some ammo and a couple of guns in that old stovepipe.”

“What about the good stuff?”

“This is as good as it gets.” He looked at Rye, wondering
what was going on in her head. After saving her life, he expected gratitude.
Why had she really brought Levor there?

“Where’s those government boxes?” Levor flashed a glance at
Rye and then back at him.

Sevrin shot Rye an angry look. “You told him?”

“I told him what I needed to.”

“Did any of them have drugs?” Levor said. “You must have
some. The government had plenty.”

“You’re joking, right?” Sevrin laughed. “I ain’t got drugs.
No one does in the wastelands. The boxes were empty when I found them.” Not
really but he wasn’t going to give away all his secrets.

“Don’t lie to me.” Levor paced a few steps one way and then
a couple the other way. “If you ain’t got anything of value, then I’ll have to
take the vamp. There are some men in Old Louis Ruins who pay top dollar for
vamps.”

Levor turned and Rye rushed him before Sevrin could move a
foot.

“Who are they?” Rye demanded as she struggled to grab
Levor’s arm.

Sunlight through a gap in the wallboards caught the steel
blade in Levor’s hand and the reflecting glare blinded Sevrin. He advanced
anyway. Rye stumbled back, out of reach of Levor slashing the air near her
face.

“I’ll kill you, fanger bitch,” Levor declared. “I don’t care
what Wickstrom is paying.”

Rye seemed to freeze at the mention of Wickstrom. Sevrin had
his own reason for heading to Old Louis Ruins. His brother worked for the
Wickstrom Group. The rumors about
lamians
being kidnapped in the name of
that group had set him en route to find out if his brother was all right. What
did Rye know of the powerful group of scientists?

“Don’t kill him.” Rye pushed Sevrin away from Levor.

“I’m not trying to kill him.” Sevrin reached to grab Levor
before he got out of the shack. “I need information from him.”