Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (13 page)

Jebaral had been devastated when their joining had produced nothing. He had just turned fourteen, and his body had finally developed his third sac. His reproductive sac. The ultimate sign of Ruinos manhood.

He cared for Tiron. For years he had watched the Arra abuse her but were unable to bend her indomitable spirit to their will. Because she always fought back, they kept punishing her. Punished her in cruel, agonizing ways. But never with the adjac. The adjac was for those Ruinos who were believed to be a danger to the other slaves and to themselves.

Tiron cared for him, although she was almost two years older. Because she was female, the Arra had not put her in the auction grid. They remained hopeful they could get the remaining unpaired females somehow mated and then pregnant. Or else the Ruinos would become a species headed for extinction within a few short years.

Over the years, there were fewer and fewer females available who could procreate. The Arra had created an imbalance in the ecosystem when they had first begun netting the shape-shifting race for sale and profit ... and food. Their lack of foresight in randomly grabbing from the populace soon had them worried they would run out of the species. The strong, green-skinned beings netted them more profit and wealth than any metal or jewel in the universe. But it had 170

taken the Arra decades to realize there was no way they could change Ruinos physiology when it came to repopulating the race. No matter what type of torture they used to force the Ruinos otherwise.

There were Three Rules of Creation that held true for the Ruinos race. Rules that held fast and were unbreakable.

The first was that a female could not be raped or forcibly impregnated, whether she was bonded or not. It simply wasn't physically feasible. Still, every now and then, the Arra would capture a male from a race of beings who were similar in build and appearance, and force him to join with a Ruinos woman. Sometimes these forced matings ended in the death of the male. Sometimes not. But every time their experiment ended in failure.

The second rule declared that a Ruinos female could not conceive until she found her life mate, and blood lines formed between the pair. Until that happened, her body would not allow fertilization. And even if a life bond was formed, it was still up to the female to decide whether or not she was ready to bear a child. Ruinos decided when they were ready to start a family. It was the only part of creation they could control.

Rule three was once a male and female bonded as life mates, they could not be forced to bond with another. Even after the death of a mate, the survivor would never be able to bond again. Life mates were just that—mated for life. They were bonded by blood and something far deeper and more permanent than most races could ever hope to understand.

When Jebaral had not sensed the change in him, nor seen a blood line form after he and Tiron had been made to join 171

under the watchful eyes of the Arra, he had promised Tiron he would try to protect her anyway. It was the least he could do.

He soon discovered it was a promise he could not keep.

Morr had tried to soothe his son. He had told Jebaral that, in most cases, the male and female would know they were destined for each other before a joining ever took place. "You will know, Jebaral. Trust me. It will become very clear to you.

Your body and mind will reach out to her long before you claim her. And afterwards, you will be inseparable from her, even if you are far apart."

He still hadn't understood, but his father had smiled and told Jebaral he would in time. Tiron wasn't meant to be his blood mate. Yes, Jebaral cared for her, but all Ruinos men cared for their females, whether they were bonded to them or not. The instinctive need to protect their species ran through their veins as thick as blood. Protect and care for them. That was what made them strong. Forceful. And feared.

Of all the cruelties inflicted by the Arra, there was one atrocity they finally ceased doing. They never again tried to separate a mated pair. In the past whenever the Arra tried, the results were always catastrophic, and often ended in the deaths of both Ruinos. The financial loss of two healthy Ruinos was not a mistake they wanted to continue making.

Not long after his joining with Tiron had come up fruitless, Jebaral had been sold to a race of V'harettin. It would be the last time he would see his parents alive.

He spent years digging for korokian ore on the heavy gravity world. The demanding physical labor toned him and 172

shaped him. So that by the time the planet had been leached of all its minerals, the Arra had offered to buy him back. By reselling him they could get four, maybe five times the asking price for the now prime Ruinos male.

There were a little over two hundred captive Ruinos on the small transport ship when Jebaral was hauled aboard. All of them were stuffed into small cages where they were expected to live without any kind of privacy until they reached the Arran mother ship.

Jebaral had been thrown into a tiny four-by-four-by-six-foot cell that already held another male. It only took the two men seconds before they realized what miracle had occurred, but they waited until the enemy had left the hold before they rejoiced.

That other male was Simolif, Jebaral's elder brother, and the only other surviving member of his family. Like him, Simolif had no idea what had happened to their parents. As to why they were on the transport, rumor was that the Jor Pil'

Rak had offered untold wealth for a dozen Ruinos males. Once the transport delivered the rest of its cargo to the mother ship, it would head for Iili Pil' Sokk to finish the transaction.

There was no avoiding the certainty that both Jebaral and Simolif would be among that dozen.

This time, however, there would be no buy-back from the Jor Pil' Rak. It would be a life far worse than what they were made to endure under the Arra. It would also be a short life.

Which was why Jebaral and Simolif felt they had no other choice but to attempt an escape.

* * * *

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Jeb gunned the truck down Mill Road toward town. So much of what his father had told him about knowing his life mate long before joining with her made sense now. He realized Hannah was meant to be his blood mate even before he claimed her. His father had been right; his body had reached for her whenever she came near. His blood sang in his veins whenever he caught her scent.

That was how he had known she was in danger, despite the fact his human skin shielded his blood lines from view.

Her fear had covered him like a freezing wet blanket, and his vision had blurred red. Because there was no phone in the bungalow they shared, he had called the motel office, hoping he could reach Mrs. Newburg so she could go check on Hannah.

His relief at being able to talk to Hannah personally had been immeasurable—until she told him Carl had come to town. That Carl had seen her, and now knew where she was living. At that moment Jeb had felt his protective instincts open like an umbrella.

Thank the stars Mr. Mallon had understood Jeb's need to get back to town. Apparently his cousin had let him in on the town gossip, or else he wouldn't have given Jeb the clear order to, "Make sure she's safe. And don't let him get his hands on her again."

Mill Road was wide and well-traveled. Jeb made the normally fifteen minute drive in ten, with the truck's tires squealing in protest as he turned the corner at the changing light at the intersection leading into town.

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As he approached the motor lodge he could already see the sheriff's car parked at an angle to the brown pickup sitting in front of the office. Jeb brought his truck around and braked to a shuddering halt on the opposite side.

They were all standing outside the office. Carl's protests continued to ring in the early afternoon sunshine, but the deputy who had handcuffed him and who was now holding him by the arm was barely holding back his own anger.

Hannah stood in the background, shielded by Mrs.

Newburg. She was looking for him when he came around the corner, and a spark of joy ignited inside him to realize she had known when he had arrived. She rushed into his arms before he could say her name. At that same instant, Carl tried to lunge at him.

"That's him! That's the son of a bitch who kidnapped her!

Why don't you cuff him, you piece of shit!"

The deputy's face grew darker. "I think I've heard enough from you. It's time we took a little ride down to the station."

Hannah's body was trembling so hard she could barely stand. Jeb brushed her hair back from her tear-stained face and asked, "What happened?"

It was Mrs. Newburg who answered him. "This fella tried to break down the door to my office."

"That's attempted B and E," the officer announced with a hefty grin. "You got more than fifty bucks in the till, don't you, Wendy?"

"Sure do!"

"Add attempted felony theft," the deputy snapped.

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"When I wouldn't let him in, he started screaming for Hannah to come outside. Started pleading with her to talk. He just wanted to talk." Mrs. Newburg made a gesture toward Hannah. "I told him no way 'cause I knew he was going to do something bad to her if she did."

"Like kidnapping?" the deputy suggested.

"Or beat her up again like he did the last time. Look at her face!"

The officer whose nameplate read STILES, P. gave a nod in Hannah's direction. "Is this the man who did that to your face?"

"Yes." Her voice was soft but firm. Her grip tightened around Jeb's waist. She knew she was safe now.

"Kidnapping's a felony in this state if you add assault and battery." Stiles grinned.

"I didn't hit her, you moron!" Carl hollered, spit flying. "I haven't touched her!"

"Go on, Mrs. Newburg," Jeb ordered in a controlled voice.

It was taking every ounce of control he had not to throw a roundhouse punch into the man's face to shut him up.

Instead he kept his fists clenched against Hannah's back and pressed her tighter against him. Still, there was some satisfaction in seeing the man's hand wrapped in a dark blue cast.

"Anyway, like I was saying, he tried to sweet-talk Hannah into coming outside, but I wouldn't let her. Then he yelled and screamed profanity to try and scare her into coming out."

Mrs. Newburg went tight-lipped at the memory. "Bastard said he would torch my place if I didn't let her see him."

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"Attempted arson." Stiles added. Jeb figured he was taking mental notes. If the additional pressure the deputy put on the man's biceps caused Carl any discomfort, too bad. "Is that when he tried to break his way in?" Stiles asked.

The motel owner nodded. "Yep. That's when he went back to his truck and got his tire iron, and when he smashed the window to the front door."

Jeb turned his head to spot the broken door to the office.

The tire iron lay on the ground nearby. Glass shards lay among the pea gravel like glistening raindrops.

"Destruction of property," Stiles noted, still smiling.

Mrs. Newburg looked up at Jeb. "That's when Philip drove up. Caught him red-handed. Cuffed him right then and there, and then you showed up," she concluded. Jeb noticed she, too, was wearing a smug smile of satisfaction.

Jeb started to ask another question but the sound of a second sheriff's car pulling onto the gravel parking lot distracted them. This time it was the sheriff who joined them.

The older man had a weathered face, but his eyes were sharp. He took in the scene, read it, then softly ordered the deputy, "Why don't you take this guy down to the jailhouse and give him some time to cool his heels? After I get these people's statements, I'll be over to book him."

The comment was too much for Carl, who had remained silently stewing throughout the entire process. "I didn't do nothin' to her!" he yelled, fighting the deputy's iron grasp on his arm as he was half-dragged toward the patrol car.

"Hannah! Hannah, you cunt! You'll pay for this! You and that boyfriend of yours! You're mine, do you hear me? Mine!"

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He continued to struggle against the inevitable. "That cocksucker broke my hand! He broke my fuckin' hand! Ain't you gonna arrest him for battery?" He tried to say more but closing the car door effectively muffled his diatribe. They watched as the man tried to beat against the door and window in a vain attempt to escape.

Sheriff Klotsky sighed wearily as he turned back to Hannah. "You okay, young lady?"

"Yeah. Just ... frightened."

"And he's not your husband?"

"No!" she snapped suddenly with heat. "If he says so, he's lying. Make him produce a license. You'll see."

Jeb could see the man's eyes taking in the fading bruises.

Suddenly the brown eyes locked with his. "Wanna give me the short end of it?"

"I met Hannah five months ago at the diner in Laughlin where she was working. I knew from the start she was in an abusive relationship, but she feared leaving him. Last Friday when she didn't go to work, her friend asked me to go over to her place and make sure she was okay. I had to break in to get to her, but I'm glad I did," Jeb honestly admitted. "If you think this is bad, it was much worse when I found her. Much worse."

Klotsky paused, digesting what he heard. "Did you go to the hospital?"

It was Hannah who stepped in. "I begged him not to take me."

"Why not?"

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"I was afraid they would accuse Jeb, and I wouldn't be awake to say differently."

The sheriff rubbed his chin. "So you came up here to Tumbril Harbor. Why?"

"I used to work for B and A Construction," Jeb told him.

"Anson Bennetson's firm?"

"Yeah. He's the one who told me about the mill here.

Promised me a job if I ever came up this way." Jeb gave a weak shrug. "I knew I had to get Hannah away from that prick, or he'd eventually kill her. I figured she would have a decent chance here."

"Did you break that man's hand?"

"Yes, I did. He took a swing at me, and I ... swung back."

"Sounds like a clear case of self-defense." Klotsky grinned with one side of his face. He tilted his head at Hannah. "I would suggest you put a restraining order on the boy. I can't promise it'll keep him away, but at least you'll have something in your corner in case this thing has to go to court."

"He's already on probation," she told him.

"For assault?"

She nodded. "He probably has some DUIs, too."

Sighing again, the sheriff scratched his chin. "This keeps gettin' better and better. Okay. I'll call Baine County and see what they got on the boy. What's his full name again?"

"Carl Presley Jamison."

"Right. In the meantime I'll get the paperwork started on that restraining order. You can come down before we close at five and sign it."

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"Will he be spending any time in lockup?" Jeb inquired.

"At least twenty-four hours until we can get him duly processed. After that he'll go see Judge Mays, and she'll be the one to decide whether or not he gets to be a registered guest a while longer. Most likely she'll set him free and tell him to get his butt outta town, and don't come back."

"If she does, what's to stop him from coming back here?"

Mrs. Newburg asked.

"Then that's when you give me another call, Wendy." He tipped the brim of his hat in their direction. "I'll also have Jimmy's Wrecker Service tow Mr. Jamison's truck over to the impound lot. Just to be on the safe side, though, I'll have one of my deputies keep an extra eye on this end of town if she releases our Mr. Jamison. Ma'am?" He gave Hannah a last look. "I'm sorry this guy managed to track you down. Let's hope we can get this thing squared away before any further damage is done."

"Don't worry," Jeb told him in a dark, cold voice. "I'll make sure he never hurts Hannah again."

The sheriff's eyes narrowed. "You own a gun, son?"

"No."

The man grunted in reply. Giving them a final salute, he got back into his car and drove away. No one spoke until the sheriff had disappeared from view.

"I can get you another door at the hardware store," Jeb said to the motel owner. "Won't take me but half an hour, if that long, to put it on."

"It's not your fault the man went psycho," Mrs. Newburg protested. "I can call Jacob and have him bring a new one 180

over and install it." Giving them a shooing motion with her hands, she said, "Take Hannah home and put her to bed. She looks like she's about ready to keel over."

Smiling, Jeb glanced down at the woman in his arms.

Fortunately the color had come back to her face, but she still remained weak in the knees. "That sounds like an excellent idea. But if you won't let me install a new door, at least let me pay for it."

"You won't get any argument from me on that account."

Mrs. Newburg smiled warmly.

Lifting Hannah into his arms, he waited until she had nestled her head along his neck and shoulder before carrying her to the other side of the motor lodge where their bungalow sat at the end of the row. He deliberately left his truck parked in front of the office on the off-chance that if Carl managed to escape doing additional time at the local jail and decided to return, at the least the truck wouldn't point to the cabin where they were staying.

Regardless, Jeb knew their troubles with the man were far from over.

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