The Royal Hunter (20 page)

She had no idea how much time had passed, she might have even dozed off, when he tugged her to her side and pulled her into the shelter of his body. “Come here,” he murmured.

She willingly let him wrap his heat around her. He tugged another blanket up and over them and she gladly burrowed into it, realizing for the first time how cool the night air had gotten.

The steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek had just begun to lull her to sleep when she felt his hand slide up her side and down along her back. All the sensations that had dimmed into a dull, pleasant buzz, hummed to life again.

“Time for that romance I promised you,” he whispered.

She was going to correct him and save herself from the threat to her heart he’d inflict if he was gentle with her now, when she remembered the look on his face when he’d asked her before if she knew what he was feeling. And then it hit her.
He
was the one who needed the romance.

It was as shocking a realization as any she’d experienced since he’d walked into her life. Mr. Mercenary, a romantic? The idea made her smile as she looked up into his eyes and did what she knew was
right, despite the risk to her heart. “I respect a man who keeps his promises.”

And he was slow and wonderful, amazingly gentle, and perfect. And she realized she’d underestimated just how threatened her heart was. But she’d deal with that later. Much, much later.

A
rcher brushed at the annoying gnats, then realized it was whiskers tickling his cheek as he cracked one eye open.

Ringer.

It only took a heartbeat longer to realize that Ringer was presently a cat, but it was a heartbeat too long.

Talia opened her eyes and smiled in surprise. “Where did you come from?”

Archer swore silently. This was not how he’d planned this. But then he’d never planned this.

The cat butted his head against Talia’s and rumbled as she scratched behind his ears. The sun was just beginning to rise and the air was cool outside the little cocoon they’d made inside their blankets. Her hair was a mass of tangled curls and her face was lined with pressure wrinkles from the blanket. Her nose was pink from the cold, but her eyes were sparkling and luminous. She smiled at him, then laughed as the cat tried to wedge himself between them. Lord, she was so beautiful it made his insides hurt.

“Pushy sort,” she said.

“Out of here, mate,” he said. Archer scooped Ringer up and deposited him outside their cocoon, then pulled Talia back to his side.

“Wait, I should make sure he’s okay. I’ve never seen him around here before.” Archer held her against her wishes and she frowned up at him. “What?”

“He’s fine.”

“But—” She looked past him and stared at the cat, suddenly frowning. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

She looked back at him. “I didn’t make any connection with him. Usually, unless I’m concentrating, the feelings sort of ambush me. And yet, he’s not really signaling … anything.” She pushed up on her elbow and stared at the cat again. “But there is this other feeling, like I know him.”

“We can worry about the cat later,” Archer said, tugging her back down against his chest, silently cursing Ringer to eternal hell.

She was still distracted, but at least she was distracted while nuzzling his chest. Distraction was a good thing. In fact, he intended to do a good deal more distracting, but just as he dipped his head to follow through on the thought, hers came up, delivering a good crack to his chin.

“Ow!”

She rubbed her head, then immediately rubbed at his chin. “I’m sorry. I just realized what bugged me.”

Archer frowned and rubbed his chin. There would be no peace, or anything else, until she got it out. “What?”

“There’s only one other animal I can never connect with. Ringer. But I figured it was because he was from the future or something.” She shifted once again to the cat, who was sitting less than a foot away, studiously ignoring them both as he meticulously washed first one front paw, then the other. She looked back to Archer. “Nothing. Even when I try.
You know, I think my empathic skills are going haywire or something. That day Ringer was hurt, the signals were way stronger than his actual discomfort should have telegraphed. Almost as if he were intentionally trying to get my attention, now that I think about it.” She looked at him and must have seen the guilt on his face, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

As he opened his mouth to confess, Ringer changed back to the scruffy mutt before Talia’s wide, astonished gray eyes.

To her credit, she didn’t scream or faint. A squeaking sort of sound came out, and she looked between the two of them wildly, then turned a rather unbecoming shade of gray before turning away altogether.

“Thanks, mate,” he snarled at Ringer, who merely sat and wagged his tail as if to say, “No worries.” Little shit.

“Talia—” He reached for her, but she stopped him by stiffening her shoulders. “It’s cold, at least let me cover your shoulders up.”

She said nothing, so he pulled the blanket over her and waited. He was really bad at waiting. “Say something,” he prodded, at a loss as to how to handle her and hating feeling so helpless.

She turned her head slowly to his, her eyes unfocused, and, he noticed, purposely
not
looking at Ringer. “I—” Then she simply shook her head and tucked her chin.

Despite her resistance, he dragged her into his arms and held her against him. It was like hugging a marble statue, but he didn’t care. She was trembling. It was hardly noticeable, but it made his chest hurt. And it was something he could do, hold her, give her his warmth, until she decided what she was ready to know.

“I should have told you,” he said quietly, when, after what seemed like a lifetime, she still hadn’t spoken. “But I didn’t want to scare you off.”

She laughed then, a semihysterical little wheeze. “Oh, well, thanks. Much appreciated. You come and tell me I’m some sort of royal healer and, by the way, I have to travel a couple hundred years into the future to save a queen I’ve never even heard of, but let’s not scare Talia with the idea of some sort of … of …” She shuddered, unable to finish.

“He won’t hurt you.”

She looked up at him then. “I wasn’t really in fear of my mortal life, thanks.”

Archer grinned. He couldn’t help it. She scowled. “I’m not having it on with you, really, but I can’t help the smile. You make me do that a lot, Talia.”

“Well, you’re very welcome. Glad I could help.”

Now it was all he could do not to laugh outright. She was scared within an inch of her life, but rather than cling and squeal, she was being sarcastic and pouty.

He tucked her rigid frame a bit closer, angling himself so Ringer was somewhat out of her direct line of vision if she were to look up at him. And he found he wanted that badly. He slowly stroked his fingertips up and down her back, then through her hair. Over and over again, until she slowly began to unwind. No, he wasn’t a patient man, but somehow killing time this way, for the sake of her comfort, didn’t seem to tax him too greatly.

When she finally relaxed, he shifted upward so she could pull herself more tightly into his chest. Perhaps it would go easier if she could listen without her reactions being viewed. “Want me to tell you about him?”

There was a long silence, then finally a tentative little nod against his chest. His smile was wide and
his heart beat a bit steadier now that she’d given him another piece of trust. A valuable gift, and one he’d guard carefully.

“I was coming back from completing a difficult transaction. I’d been off-Earth for almost a month and all I wanted to do was get home, take a long hot steamer, and eat some food that didn’t come from questionable sources.”

Her breath caught and he paused, waiting to see if she had any questions. But he felt her breath skim out across his skin and she relaxed slightly back against him. So he continued.

“I had docked and was signing off on the space entry/exit forms when I heard a rustling behind the refuse transformers.”

Talia’s head came up. “The what?”

He bit back the smile. “Refuse transformers?”

“What exactly do you transform your refuse into?”

She didn’t ask about off-Earth travel, but she wanted to know about recycling. He grinned. “I guess it’s best described as a sort of liquid gas.”

“And what do you do with that?”

“Reuse it in other ways.”

“All of it?” She shook her head, then smiled a little. “I guess it’s reassuring to know you all figured out some way to solve that problem.”

He just stared at her until she looked up at him.

“What?”

He shook his head. “I can’t figure you out.”

Her smile grew. “Well, some things haven’t changed, then. Men have been trying to figure out women for eons. And vice versa. I guess you haven’t solved all the world’s mysteries, then.”

“Not hardly.”

She quieted then, her expression turning serious once more. “Tell me more,” she said quietly.

“About Ringer?”

She shivered, just a little. “Are they—what do you call them anyway?”

“Shifters.”

She managed a nod. “Are these … shifters … common?”

“Somewhat. They’re the vagabond type, hitching rides around and about. A number of them have ended up here on Earth.”

She was trembling, but pushed on. “So he followed you home?”

Archer laughed. “No, I found him in the transformer, hardly more than skin and ribs he was, but ready to fight me to the death over a moldy chicken bone.” He sobered a bit as he recalled the rest of that night. “He tried to shift, into something large and threatening, but he got stuck between animals.” He shuddered, as did Talia. “It wasn’t pretty. I couldn’t leave the little bloke like that. So I took him home, figuring he’d finish up after he’d warmed up a bit, and had some food.”

“Does he have a basic shape? I’ve only seen him as a dog.”

“Well, you’ve probably seen him as a few other things without knowing. But no, he’s whatever he wants to be. There’s no natural form as far as I know, but they each have their own preferences.”

“And he’s been with you ever since that night?”

Archer glanced at Ringer. “Yeah. We’re mates, him and me. He can be a pain in the ass, but all in all, he’s done all right by himself. And by me.”

Ringer chose that moment to turn round and round on the corner of the blanket and plop himself down. Talia trembled and Archer looked concerned.

“It’s okay. I just keep seeing him do that … thing … he did.” She made a face. “Maybe we should stick with talking about trash and other developmental
strides of humankind. Emphasis on the word
human
.”

He smiled at that and decided that kissing her would be the most reasonable thing to do.

She was breathing a bit unevenly when he lifted his head. “Well.”

“Yeah. Very well,” he said. “Now, where were we?”

“I was sort of liking where we just were.”

“You don’t want to know any more? Have you asked Baleweg anything about our time?”

She shook her head. “I … I think I was afraid to ask anything more. I wasn’t ready. He didn’t push.”

“And now?” He tilted her face to his. “Aren’t you even a little curious where I come from, Talia?”

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, before asking, “Are you curious about
my
world?”

“I guess I’ve sort of figured out what I need to know to get by. After all, I’ll only be here for a short time.”

She nodded. “Exactly. I figure I’ll go on a need-to-know basis, too.”

Archer frowned. He didn’t at all like that idea.
Why, for Christ’s sake?
What made her situation any different from his? What did he want from her anyway?
Dangerous question, mate. You really want to answer that one?

Ringer yawned and stretched, thankfully pulling Talia’s attention away from … from wherever the hell they’d been going. She finally let herself look at the scruffy mutt and Archer remained silent while she came to terms with it.

Suddenly she grinned. “It just occurred to me that he must have scared the bejeebers out of the local animal population here, changing from one thing to the next.” She turned to Archer, her soft heart in her eyes. “How did you name him?”

Her resilience never ceased to amaze him. It was
one of the things he loved—“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “he’s able to change into any small mammal shape. A dead ringer. Which is exactly what he’d have been, too, if I hadn’t forced him inside with me.”

“Ah.” Talia smiled. She continued to rub her arms and he tugged her close again.

“You keep getting away from me.” He thought about what she was facing, wondering if he’d be as practical in dealing with it all as she’d been. Probably not. He rolled to his back and pulled her and the blanket across him. Ringer leaped up when his little blanket nest suddenly disappeared and grumbled as he jumped off the rock. Considering the problems he’d caused this morning, Archer didn’t feel the least bit bad about it.

“What are you doing?” Talia grabbed at his shoulders for balance.

“Changing the subject.”

“To what?”

“Sun’s coming up and I thought how beautiful you’d look coming with the sky all streaked with bright colors behind you.”

Her cheeks turned pink and he was pretty certain it had nothing to do with the cool morning air. “Pretty sure of yourself.”

He grabbed her hips as if to lift her off him. “Well, if you don’t think I can—”

She grabbed hold of his wrists and clamped her knees on his sides. “Did I say that?”

He looked into her eyes and grinned, but somehow his heart wasn’t as light as his tone. “Have I ever not delivered on a promise made to you?”

She tilted her head, as if to ponder the question. He bumped his hips up and she gasped, then quickly shook her head. “I suppose not.”

He pulled her down onto him and pushed deep.
His fingers tangled in her hair as she fell across his chest, their hips already locked in perfect rhythm. If he couldn’t watch her when she climaxed, he’d feel it. And feeling her wrapped around him like this was surely more glorious than any sunrise God had ever created.