Stud (36 page)

They set off at mid-morning, Tarq leading the way as though he truly did know exactly where he was going. He never faltered, seeming to know the best path around every obstacle they passed. Vertigan questioned his choice a few times but was never able to convince anyone else that Tarq had taken a wrong turn. Lucy tried not to walk too close to him. Distracting him with her scent seemed like a bad idea since moving quickly was necessary for their collective safety. There would be no stopping for sexual needs, either; in fact they barely stopped long enough to eat lunch. Lucy suspected that Tarq would have preferred to keep moving even then—possibly in light of their late start—but he never said so.

Reinforcing her moccasins turned out to be her best accomplishment yet—aside from the water bags they each carried. Lucy was doing her best not to drink until she absolutely had to, marching on when she would have preferred to stop and rest. Tarq would undoubtedly have moved more quickly alone; Bratol and the two Vetlas were rather slow, and though some of the reason lay with their age, the rest was explained by their comparatively short legs.

Rufus—Lucy still couldn’t think of him as Akeir—trotted along with them, occasionally running on ahead and then returning to check up on each member of the party. Lucy suspected he was reporting back to Vertigan, but as Vertigan himself seemed rather quiet, she couldn’t be sure.

Nat and Traldeck tended to stick together, as did Kotcamp and Terufen, and after a bit Walkuta fell in alongside Lucy. The Zebtan’s frequent glances at Tarq didn’t surprise Lucy overmuch; she’d have been doing the same thing herself had she not been posing as his mate.

When Walkuta spoke at last, Lucy wasn’t terribly surprised at the topic she chose. “You made a fortunate choice in him.”

“You mean Tarq?”

Walkuta nodded toward the Zetithian, a worshipful gleam in her orange eyes. “He is a fine man. An aura of greatness surrounds him.”

Lucy would have agreed wholeheartedly if that aura denoted his greatness as a lover, but somehow she didn’t think that was what Walkuta had in mind. “Greatness? How?”

Walkuta’s eyes became shuttered and mysterious. “In many ways,” she replied. “But perhaps the greatest is his humility.”

Lucy couldn’t argue with that. Tarq was secure in his sexuality but never boastful or aggressive. If he hadn’t had a vision, he probably would have been content to let Vertigan take the lead.

“He is a practical man and doesn’t let his ego rule him,” Walkuta went on. “I find that trait to be… admirable, and so unlike the males of my species.” She shook her head sadly. “I left my own world in search of just such a man. I consider it most unfortunate that now that one has finally come my way, he is already mated with another.”

Lucy shouldn’t have been surprised to find that other women might be envious of her, but never having been the envy of anyone before, the notion hadn’t occurred to her. Still, had Tarq kept his mouth shut about being Lucy’s mate, Walkuta would undoubtedly have volunteered to satisfy his needs.

The instantaneous sense of possessive ire that this thought inspired came as a bit of a shock to Lucy, and she had to fight to keep from telling Walkuta to keep her greedy little green Zebtan hands off him.

She glanced up just in time to see Traldeck toss a knowing smile over his shoulder. Thus far, his ability to manipulate fire had eclipsed his talents as an empath, but Lucy would do well to remember it if she intended to keep her secret. She turned to find Walkuta regarding her as though expecting a reply. “Sorry I found him first.”

Walkuta laughed—something Lucy had yet to hear her do. “There is no need to apologize. I am simply stating a fact. And unlike the majority of females on my world, I have no desire to share my mate with another woman.”

Lucy grinned, her previous emotional reaction already forgotten. “Prefer monogamy, do you?”

“Oh, yes,” Walkuta replied. “Whether a man is equipped for two or not.” She glanced at Vertigan. “But perhaps you would not object to being shared by two men?”

Lucy’s eyes widened.

Walkuta smiled knowingly. “Oh, yes. The possibility exists. Vertigan is a Mordrial. Since they cannot always reproduce with the one they love, their women often have two husbands. Strange species…”

Lucy certainly couldn’t argue with that, though Walkuta’s species was even stranger. “I… I’ve never heard that before.” That Vertigan was interested in Lucy, even Tarq had seen, but Lucy still didn’t believe it. Vertigan had given her no clues that his feelings lay in that direction. “Are you saying that Vertigan wants to—”

“Be your husband? Yes, I believe he does. He is watching you, but seems uncertain. From what I’ve been able to observe, Zetithians are fiercely monogamous. I doubt that Tarq would be willing to share.”

“Probably not.” The fact that Tarq had claimed Lucy as his mate moments after he’d first noticed Vertigan’s interest made it obvious that he wanted no part of a polygamous relationship, whether he’d known about this Mordrial tendency or not. However, her connection with Tarq was anything but typical. Once they reached Noklar, their ways would part. If Mordrials were indeed accustomed to their wives giving birth to a second husband’s children, perhaps Vertigan wouldn’t see Tarq as a rival and therefore would not be averse to helping to support and raise his offspring. Still, her situation was already complicated enough. “I don’t believe I want another husband.” Not that she truly had one now.

Walkuta nodded. “It
is
a strange custom, though not unheard of. Many worlds have practices that are quite fascinating.” Her expression clouded, becoming unreadable. “Then there are others I wish I’d never seen. Perhaps I should have stayed home.”

“I know what you mean,” Lucy said, thankful for a new topic. “Things haven’t turned out quite the way I expected since I left Reltan, but there are parts of this little adventure that I wouldn’t have missed for the world.”

Crilla spoke up from the back of the pack. “Me too. I would never have guessed I’d be so good with a bow.”

Faletok made a rude noise, which Crilla ignored.

“Of course, I’m only able to kill rock rats because I pretend they’re my husband,” Crilla added. “Improves my aim.”

Lucy laughed along with the others but was of the opinion that the only way to improve her own aim would be to imagine that her target was something trying to kill Tarq—which might turn out to be the case eventually. Then she remembered how murderous she’d felt when dealing with Fred and knew that she would defend Tarq against any foe in a heartbeat, whether she was armed or not. Even though she might die trying to save him.

She found herself staring at him. Never mind how great he looked—broad shouldered and tall, his long blond hair tucked beneath the bow and quiver slung across his back, the knife at his hip, the load of provisions he carried—what she saw went much deeper. She loved him. Completely and utterly loved him. But what about when he was gone? Could she ever feel that way about Vertigan?

The force of this emotion was such that Traldeck turned and smiled at her again. With a nod toward Tarq, he asked, “How come you two aren’t walking together?”

Lucy’s face flushed hot with embarrassment. “I, um, distract him too much. It’s because of my scent.”

“Ah,” said Traldeck. “I see.”

He probably didn’t—at least not entirely. Lucy caught a glimpse of Tarq’s sly smile as he glanced back at her, but he never slowed his pace. He understood the problem—and was probably grateful for her consideration—even if no one else did. Though the mere thought was like a knife through her heart, Lucy knew she should probably stay well away from Tarq throughout the entire journey. She had no desire to relive the awkward moment they’d had when Vertigan found them.

Vertigan—whom she’d had to remind of her expectant state. She’d spent a good bit of the previous night lying awake wishing she hadn’t put this argument into words. While Tarq slept beside her, thoughts of how her pregnancy would progress, how she would endure the labor and delivery of his three children, how she would care for them and watch them grow—but most of all, how she would go through all of this without him—kept her mind in turmoil. Vertigan might have been the answer to the practical aspects of this, but what about love?

Pain ripped through her heart once again, bringing tears to her eyes and causing her to stumble.

Walkuta steadied her with a hand on her arm. “Are you unwell?”

“N-no. Just… hurt my foot on a rock. I’m okay.” It was a lie, but Lucy doubted anyone would realize it—until Traldeck glanced at her again. His movement caught her eye, and she looked up to see concern mixed with puzzlement written on his face, followed by the shock of comprehension.

He knew.

Chapter 24

Although just exactly
what
he knew wasn’t clear, Lucy deduced that Traldeck was at least aware that there was something fishy about the relationship between herself and Tarq. She quickly averted her eyes—which probably confirmed his suspicions. Hiding her emotions from him would’ve been wise, but since he could evidently pick them up from two meters away with his back turned, she had no idea how to do it. She could just as easily have concealed them from herself.

Marching onward, Lucy did her best to focus on her feet and her surroundings instead of her troubling thoughts. A lighthearted conversation or a song would’ve been helpful, but traveling through a mountain range on foot—no matter how good your guide—was conducive to neither. Everyone was left to their own thoughts, though it was apparent that hers had proven more interesting to Traldeck than anyone else’s.

A glance to her right confirmed that the sun was already beginning to set, which did nothing to improve her mood. It would be getting dark soon, and if Tarq knew of a safe place to spend the night, he wasn’t telling anyone about it.
Great. Something else to worry about.
She shook her head and repositioned the strap of her duffel bag which, though now padded with dranik hide, had been cutting painfully into her shoulder for the past hour or more. She would have switched it to her other shoulder, but considering everything else she was carrying—her bow, quiver, and a vrelnotskin canteen—she would’ve had to stop in order to do it. It was easier to keep moving.
Happy
thoughts, Lucy. Think happy thoughts…

The fact that they were currently walking downhill was the happiest thought she could come up with at the time—that and the clear blue sky. The way Walkuta had talked, she’d expected to be caught in a downpour at any moment and prayed that the rains would hold off for a few more days. If the weather got too bad, returning to their cave would still be an option when they were so close. The trick would be to find another one farther on.

***

Night was falling. Tarq understood why Lucy had been avoiding him all day—his head was clear and his dick quite soft—but his heart ached to have her by his side. She was much safer surrounded by others, as opposed to taking point with him, and though this was comforting, he still didn’t like it.

Wanting nothing more than to bed down with her and inhale her glorious scent, he’d been on the lookout for a good campsite for the past hour but had yet to spot one. Unfortunately, his vision hadn’t included the whereabouts of any caves along their route, though they were passing through a relatively thick stand of trees, which provided some shelter. The other question was whether or not they should risk having a campfire when they stopped for the night. Wildlife tended to avoid fire as a rule, but the habits of vrelnots were unknown to him. For all he knew, they might be drawn to it like moths.

He’d almost decided to pick a dense tree to camp beneath when he finally heard what he’d been hoping to hear: the gurgling of water as it trickled over rocks. Following the sound, he discovered a sheltered spot with a rocky overhang above it, not unlike the place where he and Lucy had stayed while he recovered from his injuries. A spring bubbled out from a fissure in the rock, collecting in a small pool at the source before running off down the mountain.

“Great spot,” Kotcamp said as he glanced around, nodding with approval. “I absolutely love it!”

“So, did you know this was here?” Terufen asked.

Tarq was nothing if not honest. “Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Who cares?” said Terufen. “I was expecting to have to sleep out in the open and get eaten by a vrelnot during the night.” He scurried over to a small alcove and set down his pack. “This is much better.”

Tarq could only conclude that the Norludian’s standards were low. It didn’t quite live up to his own hopes, for there was no place for him to be private with Lucy. He might do better to avoid her altogether and take the first watch; otherwise, he was in for a miserable night—in more ways than one. He’d missed her all day and his dick hadn’t even been hard. Not being able to hold her through the night would be torture. He was sure her feet would need massaging too—a task he had no intention of shirking.

“Wait!” Walkuta said as she approached. “I must perform the Rite of Domicile.”

Tarq glanced at her in surprise.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “She did this to the other cave, too. Not sure exactly what good it does, but—”

“The Rite of Domicile cleanses the area, making it safe for us to abide here for a time,” Walkuta announced. “It cannot be left undone.” Standing in the center of the sheltered space, she did an intricate dance with an accompanying chant in each direction, finishing as she had before by pressing her palms together and bowing her head.