Captured & Seduced (16 page)

“The foal needs to feed.”

“We don’t have time.”

“The foal needs to feed now.”

Ry sighed. Her stubborn gene was losing its cuteness. Camryn might be right but he hated the idea of putting her in more danger. The foal couldn’t stand on its own. “Suggestions?”

“I don’t have any. It’s gonna be trial and error.”

Ry dipped his head in a curt nod. Exactly. The Dowry Derby fell into the same territory. They were bumbling from one calamity to the next, and he didn’t like the lack of control. He stood, moving without haste so he didn’t alarm the mother, and lifted the foal to its feet. It issued a pitiful bleat and collapsed. The mother yapped. Her nostrils flared and she shifted in agitation.

“Easy now,” Camryn said. “Good girl. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The mare calmed almost straightaway. Although still uneasy, the hell-horse ceased snorting. Ry guessed this was about as serene as she’d get and edged closer, holding the foal up on its feet. The foal gave a sharp yap.

“Good boy,” Camryn said. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Ry suppressed a grunt. Not anytime soon, not as far as he could see. Without taking his attention off the mother, he moved nearer until the foal nuzzled the mare’s hindquarters. At least the foal wanted to feed. He pushed it a fraction nearer and almost cheered when he heard it suckling. The mare stood quietly, although she didn’t like him standing so close. Could probably sense the feline. Camryn’s presence didn’t seem to bother her, which made him happier about her status as their horse trainer.

“Do you think we could train the mother to race?” he asked in a low voice. “The foal is going to need medical attention anyway.” Mogens could help in this area. The seer was talented when it came to medicine. It made up for his complexities and periods of strangeness.

Camryn grinned without warning. “My thoughts exactly. It’s difficult to tell how old the mare is but she seems strong and in good health. If we show she can trust us with her foal it might make training easier.”

“Good.” Ry started to feel better about the situation. “If we can find an area big enough for the tender to land, and if the indicator beacons still work after their dousing in the river, we can get the crew to come and pick us up.”

“And if you can’t?”

Ry scowled, not liking the answer. “I’ll need to find the tender while you stay with the hell-horses.”

The foal stopped drinking. Ry backed away and eased his arms from beneath the foal. It almost fell. Frag it, he’d have to carry the creature.

“You ready to go?” Camryn asked.

Hell yeah. “If I start walking, maybe the mother will tail us.”

“I’ll follow.”

“Make sure you don’t turn your back on the mother,” Ry cautioned, glancing over his shoulder. “Or better yet, see if she will follow me and you walk behind her.” His gut jolted when he had to turn back to watch his footing. He didn’t like leaving Camryn unprotected. If the hell-horse decided to attack, he wouldn’t get to her in time.

Ry hoisted the foal into his arms and traversed the middle of the creek. Luckily the water wasn’t deep and the bottom consisted of coarse sand. “Is she following?”

“No.”

Ry frowned and kept walking. If the mother rejected her foal due to their intervention they were screwed. A snort and a shrill yap sounded behind him. Water splashed and the hell-horse darted past him with a snort. She trumpeted again, obviously uneasy but resigned. She trotted ahead and stopped to study him before continuing.

Camryn splashed up beside him and Ry felt easier. “Looks like there might be a clearing up ahead.”

“Good.” Ry didn’t like the idea of leaving Camryn alone with night falling. The break in the trees didn’t look promising. It certainly wasn’t big enough to land the tender. The mother scrambled up the bank and turned to observe.

“Looks like this is the end of the journey,” Camryn said.

“The clearing is too small for the tender.”

“We’re not even sure where we are,” Camryn said. “We were swept down the river for quite a way.”

Ry climbed the bank and walked to a clear patch. He set the foal down and it licked him before he could move his hand. Surprised at the sense of satisfaction, he scratched the foal behind its long rounded ears. The creature licked his hand again. Ry glanced up to find Camryn grinning. The foal gave a small yip and the mare replied.

He backed away to stand by Camryn, and she leaned against his side. Her clothes were wet like his and her body heat seeped through the fabric. In that moment, he craved her fiercely, but it wasn’t the time. Nightfall wasn’t far away. He squeezed her upper arm and moved away with regret and a healthy slice of anxiety. The sooner he left the quicker he could return.

“I’d better go now if I want to make it back before dark. Take care.” Ry yanked off his pack and shirt and shifted to cat. With a soft growl and one last look at Camryn, he loped away in search of the tender. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done and he had to force himself to leave.

Chapter Eight

Talor’s tender, Ornum

“Where’s Ryman?” Talor Coppersmith paced across the interior of his tender and stared at the other occupant.

“He’s searching for hell-horses.”

“Ah yes. It must be difficult when he’s short of crew.” Smugness coated his words, but he didn’t give a damn. Any means to grind his brother into the dust, to make him suffer. Talor eyed the woman standing a few feet away. The means by which to exact revenge. “I expect you to make things difficult for him.”

“It’s not easy. I have to be subtle.”

“I must have results.” Warning threaded his tone and the caution didn’t go unheeded. The confusion on her face told Talor she couldn’t understand why she was compelled to come to him, that it frightened her.

She swallowed before her tongue flickered out to wet her bottom lip. “We’re staying over by the river, and once we have our hell-horse, we’re returning to the city.”

Talor nodded. “We have a horse already.” He’d managed to get two animals early on and had a team of men to take care of them. Talor was confident one of his hell-horses would win. So far he’d failed to compel the creatures, although he had other strategies in play. Worry didn’t keep him awake at night. He scowled. Apart from the pesky debt collectors. They’d get their money once he killed Ryman. Damn man had more lives than a cat.

“What do you want me to do?” Kaya asked, edging toward the exit.

“Keep me informed,” Talor ordered. “I want to know my brother’s intentions before he acts, where he’s going to go and how.”

Kaya’s chin jutted upward in a show of bravery. “I’m not going to jeopardize my position with Ry.”

“It’s a little late to worry about your status now. You climbed into bed with me, a willing participant and now you must pay the price.” Talor stepped into her personal space to make sure she understood. “You owe me. If you even consider changing sides at this stage, I will make you sorry. Understood?” He sent a compelling thought and the fight visibly seeped from her.

“Yes, sir.”

Talor stared an instant longer before turning away in dismissal. He reached for a goblet of vino, the delicate pink liquor from the planet Marseilles, and took a sip. The smooth liquid slid down his throat, tingly tendrils of warmth flowing through his chest.

“You may go.” Talor held out his goblet for Meghan to refill and smiled when he heard the retreating footsteps. It was the best things he’d ever done—hooking up with Kaya. Having a spy in his brother’s camp kept him two steps ahead. Oh yes. He wanted Ryman to suffer.

* * * * *

Camryn watched Ry leave with a sinking heart. The idea of being alone scared her silly, but there were no alternatives. And no pub to grab a bolstering drink. She glanced at the mare and foal and smiled when the mother nuzzled her offspring. She couldn’t help recalling the hell-horse attack across the river. The screams. The blood. Carnage. She cast another quick look at the creatures. Could she even train the mare to race?

A drink. God, she craved a drink so bad. She wondered if Ry had another flask tucked away. A lock of hair fell into her face and she swept it away with a trembling hand. She couldn’t do this. She’d pretended to Ry and his crew, told them she could, but she hadn’t ridden a winning horse past the finish post for ages, not since Gabriel had died. Sure, she’d helped her brother train horses but she’d never schooled one on her own. Knowing the mechanics and putting them into practice were miles apart.

Stress started to crowd in on her, pushing from all directions. Oh yeah. She’d put up a great front—a performance worthy of an award. At least when she was with Ry, her mind focused on other things. Alone, her doubts surfaced.

A sob tore free and she sank to the ground, curling into a tight ball of misery. When they’d kidnapped her, she had no option. How could she let them return her to Earth, knowing they’d take her brother? No, she’d run out of choices, just as she was out of alternatives now. She had to do this. She had to prove she wasn’t a screw-up.

Camryn rocked, tears spilling down her cheeks. These creatures—the hell-horses—were so unlike horses at home. At home, the worst injuries she’d sustained were sly nips when she hadn’t paid attention or a kick from a fractious yearling. There’d been spills during training, but she knew how to fall. Nothing life-threatening.

Hell-horses killed.

And enjoyed the bloodbath.

Camryn’s thoughts drifted to Ry. The need for his physical presence and his arms wrapped around her body filled her with trepidation. She fingered the place on her neck where he’d bitten her. She’d felt pain before the surfeit of pleasure. If she were an imaginative type of person she’d start to think vampire, but no, he was merely a big pussycat. Another sob shook her shoulders.

Something nudged her shoulder and she unfurled, scrambling backward like a horse shying at a flag. The mare. Oh god. It was gonna eat her.

The hell-horse jumped away with a yelp and cantered in a tight circle before halting to study her. Finally, the mare tossed her head, and trotted back to her foal.

Camryn half sobbed, half laughed, nervous reaction bringing renewed tremors to her hands.

The foal yapped and struggled to rise. Still too weak. Her responsibility. Ry counted on her to keep this foal alive so the mare stayed around. And right now the foal needed to feed again. Little and often would make it thrive.

She stood, using measured steps so she didn’t startle the mare again. Shoving aside her fear, she concentrated on approaching the foal. One thing at a time. That’s the only way she’d get through this. If Ry could survive learning he was a feline shifter, she could do this.

“Easy there,” she crooned.

The foal gave a small yip, almost like a welcome when she drew close enough to touch him. It tore a smile from her, and she scratched him behind his ears. A sharp yap emerged from the foal and the mare returned the call. Camryn’s heart lurched, but this time she reined in her reaction, confining herself to a small
eek
rather than a full-out screech of terror. The mare had closed the distance between them and stood behind her. Camryn ignored the itch of danger and kept talking nonsense to the foal before she lifted the creature to its feet. A struggle, even though the hell-horse was small and undernourished. Finally, the foal balanced on unsteady legs.

“Come around this side,” Camryn pleaded with the mare. “Make it easy for us.” To her surprise, the mare trotted around and positioned herself for the foal to drink.

Relieved, Camryn held the foal upright. The high level of intelligence might make training difficult. Somehow, she needed to engage the mare’s interest. Make her want to run. Bridles. Saddles. How would this work? From what she understood from reading the rules, they didn’t have saddles, bridles or riders. The lack of riders made sense considering the hell-horses liked to snack on each other. Throw in a jockey or two and they’d have a well-rounded, satisfying meal.

Ry said she needed to train the hell-horse to run on command. She considered the mare and knew if she developed a relationship with the creature, a rapport where they trusted each other, her task would be easier.

The mare gave a soft yap, a contented mother sound. Camryn saw the foal had finished drinking and appeared asleep on its feet. She manhandled it over to a clear area and settled him on the ground. Now that the creature had dried off, his appearance edged toward cute. His fur was jet black and, once free of mud and clinging burrs, would feel silky and soft. The black eyes were heavily lashed and the ears were long like a regular horse but had rounded tips rather than pointy. The tail was shorter and the forequarters and shoulder appeared more powerful than the rear. This meant their backs sloped a fraction and would make balance difficult for a jockey, especially if they didn’t have a saddle.

The foal inhaled and released the breath with a shuddery whisper. As long as the wounds healed and didn’t become infected, Camryn thought the creature would recover. Another day and the result might have been different.

She turned her attention to the mother. Although her scent was strong, it wasn’t repulsive. Some of the others she’d seen had smelled worse. Burrs matted her mane and coat. Camryn didn’t have a brush but perhaps some basic grooming would help to create trust. Holding out her hand, she approached with caution. Hopefully the mare wouldn’t think her hand was a dinner offering because she hadn’t noticed the hell-horse eating anything.

“I’m not going to hurt you, girl.” Camryn took another two cautious steps. “What am I going to call you? I can’t keep calling you ‘girl’, now can I?” The first name came to mind was Gabriel, and her vision blurred. Apt. “How would you like Gabriel for your name?” The mare’s snort brought a watery grin. “How about Gabby for short? Maybe calling you after my husband will help me keep my mind off that hunky kitty-cat.” Her next step brought her hand into contact with the mare. She stroked her hand across the fur, finding it silky. “Good girl, Gabby. Good girl.” Camryn tugged at a burr, which was clinging to her coat. The mare snorted and flinched but didn’t move. “And how about Luke for your foal?” Calling the foal after her nephew would keep her focused on returning home. “Keep my thoughts off Ry,” she whispered.