Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1 (15 page)

BOOK: Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1
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She inhaled shakily, her pulse stuttering. She wanted badly to trust him, but there was that small problem of him planning to kill her—to expose her family to the world as monsters.

Chapter Six

The sun sank faster behind his left shoulder. True to her word, Andrea had led him on a less meandering route away from their lunch stop, though at just as hasty a pace. Now, nearly two hours later, she was beginning to drag. Their travel this afternoon had led them along sheer rock faces, where they’d held on carefully to keep from tumbling down the mountainside, through thickets of close-set trees that blocked the sunlight, across clear, cool water winding its way down the mountain.

Now they were on fairly level ground, with only the faintest of trails to follow, and a stream tumbled over rocks far below them, its splashing faint from where they trekked. Ahead, Andrea’s pack still bobbed up and down with her steps, but he could see she was tiring. No, that wasn’t correct, he thought. She was exhausted, her shoulders drooping, her steps much slower, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t complain.

“Andrea.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he could see the weariness in her eyes.

“We need to stop for the night.”

She shook her head. “He’s coming.”

He couldn’t deny it. “He isn’t going to get you.”

“Not if I keep moving.” She turned forward again.

He caught her backpack and forced her to stop. “
Agaph
, we need to rest.” He brushed one hand from her shoulder down her arm. “I won’t let him get you.”

Something flashed through her eyes, too fast for him to decipher, and she shook her head. “Not yet. The cave is only a little farther.”

He sighed as she swung away, trudging along. “How far?”

“Another mile or so.”

He frowned. In another mile, she’d be crawling. He walked faster for a moment, until he was on her heels. “Along the trail?”

She shook her head. “Behind the waterfall.”

He touched her swinging arm lightly. “Are you sure you can make it?”

She glared at him over her shoulder and kept going. Sped up for a few seconds before returning to her tired pace. “I can make it,” she said through gritted teeth.

Kallan smiled grimly. She was determined, his Medusa. Then he thought of the other hunter on their trail. He wouldn’t allow Stavros to have her. Andrea was
his
, and he’d protect her to the death.

As if she’d heard his musings, Andrea glanced back over her shoulder. “He won’t find the cave.”

He raised one eyebrow. If his cousin was really on their heels, he could find a cave.

“You couldn’t find it even with me, if I didn’t want you to. It’s protected.”

He pondered for several minutes as they walked, and then realized he could hear water that was louder than the stream below. The falls. “Can we go faster?” If Stavros had arrived early, he might already be in the forest, and on their trail. Kallan wanted to have her safely away before dark, when it would be harder for his cousin to track them. But he did wonder
how
the cave was protected exactly. That might prove problematic.

She squared her shoulders. “Of course.” She picked up her pace a little, and he smiled at her back.

Of course she could. She’d never admit weakness. Not to him. Not
even
to him. Maybe especially not to him.


Agaph
.”

She stumbled, then righted herself, her wide, wary eyes turning back toward him.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Shock widened her eyes more. “What?”

He caught her upper arms. “I said I’m falling in love with you.” He bent and pressed a hard kiss on her mouth, ignoring the heat rising up in him. “I can hear the water. How far?”

She stared at him for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard the question, then gave her head a slight shake. “Maybe half a mile. You’ll have to swim.” She pulled away and started walking again.

He huffed out a hard breath and followed her. She didn’t believe him. Why should she? He hadn’t given her much to believe in since his arrival, except his intent to kill her and find a way to take the amulet.

Of course, it was hardly his fault either, given the history of their families. He kept his eyes on her backpack as she strode along, as she stepped over fallen branches and moss-covered rocks. Her step was sure, if slower than it had been several hours ago.

She finally came to a stop a few minutes later, hands on her hips as she surveyed a wide pool with water tumbling into it from the falls overhead. At the opposite end, the pool spilled into a burbling creek.

Kallan stopped beside her, their arms brushing. “How deep is it?”

“Deep.” She studied the water, then looked at the rocks high above. “You’ll have to stay close, and make sure your pack is sealed tightly. They’re waterproof, but only if you’ve closed everything properly.”

He touched her shoulder. “I will. Can you keep it protected once we’re inside?”

She met his gaze, her own grim, and he noted the exhaustion shadowing her eyes. “I can. I will.” She looked away, her throat working.

Unease tickled his spine, lifting all the hair at the back of his neck, making him look around. Stavros was coming. “Let’s go.”

She adjusted her backpack and waded into the water.

He followed, then dove with her at the center of the pool. They swam down, underneath the rushing water, down farther still, before they finally surfaced behind the falls. About six feet over their heads was an opening.

He boosted her to the first foothold of rock, and she climbed up, disappeared into the blackness. He hurried up after her, then dropped his pack inside the cave as water sluiced from his face and hair.

Andrea had abandoned her own backpack about four feet farther in and was brushing water from her face as she looked around. “I have supplies in the back,” she said at last, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Not enough to last forever, but enough for a few days.”

He considered. Stavros was not the best tracker in the world, but he’d be able to follow some of their trail. If they were lucky, he’d lose his way up the steep rocky cliff and retreat down to the house. But he may just call in reinforcements. And if he called in a cousin who was a tracker, then they were in trouble, because Stavros would know where they were long before he reached the end of the trail due to his own particular talent.

Kallan didn’t want to consider that yet. “You need to get dry.”

“I think a fire first.” She pulled a small flashlight from inside her pack and then made her way deeper into the cave. He followed the narrow beam of light, which bobbed along the cavern walls, smiling a little to himself at the wet footprints she left behind as his eyes adjusted to the near-dark of the cave.

Andrea had stopped, squatting down in front of a set of small shelves, and pulled out a camp stove.

He lifted one eyebrow when she held it out.

“I like to be prepared.” Her tone was a little defensive, making him smile.

He took the stove, then the lighter she offered next. While he waited, she found a lantern too, and lit it. Immediately, the small alcove leaped into light and shadow. The contents of the shelves were revealed as more MREs and dehydrated food pouches, bottled water, camping gear. “Very prepared,” he murmured.

She pushed to her feet. “Are you making fun of me?”

He shook his head and felt water drip down the back of his neck. “Just making an observation.” He waited while she shimmied past him, and she seemed very careful not to touch him as she went. Kallan followed her out into the main area of the cave again, where she set the lantern on a ledge midway up the wall.

She faced him, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, her eyes troubled.

“Go ahead.” He’d been waiting. Ever since he’d opened his foolish mouth along the trail.

She caught her lower lip in her teeth, a tiny frown lining her brow. “You should get dry too,” she whispered at last.

When she turned away, grabbing her pack and retreating to the smaller chamber at the back, he felt some of the stress leave his shoulders but his stomach knotted painfully. Trying to figure out his next move, he dragged his wet shirt off over his head, then bent to unknot the wet laces of his boots.

It would never work. He knew it. If anyone had suggested to him that he’d fall for the Medusa, he would have laughed at them and then punched them bloody.

From the rear of the cave, he heard the same wet shushing noises of clothing hitting the stone floor, and he clenched his jaw, trying not to imagine her wet and naked. And failing.

“Andrea?”

Sudden silence.

“How many sleeping bags do you have back there?” He had to know.

The soft sounds resumed, this time more quietly so he assumed she was quickly pulling on dry clothes. “One. But there are extra blankets.” The reply was unsteady, as if she might be imagining the same things he was.

One sleeping bag. Of course. He shut his eyes for a second. As he went to his backpack, he unbuttoned his cargo pants, then tugged out dry clothing. His fingers were clumsy on the heavy material, made clumsier by the enticing images floating behind his eyes.

He shucked his wet pants and moved toward the front of the cave to dress.

A choked sound from Andrea made him freeze as he stuck his foot into his dry cargo pants. And every nerve in him hummed to life, zinging electricity to his groin.

Slowly, he straightened and turned just far enough to see Andrea still as a statue only a couple yards away. Her wide eyes were dark with surprise and something else. Against her dry shirt, her nipples were tight, making his mouth water. She’d pulled on a loose pair of knit pants that rode low on her hips, exposing several inches of belly between them and the hem of her shirt, and her feet were still bare.

Kallan dragged his gaze back to her face, noting the color tinting her cheeks, the way her lips were parted and the quick lift of her breasts with her breathing. “Turn around, Andrea.” She might want him, but he knew she still didn’t trust him.

Her gaze drifted lower, over his chest and arm, lower still to his bare hip. He was suddenly very glad he hadn’t turned fully to face her, or she’d really be getting an eyeful now.

“Andrea.” He made his tone harder now, and her wide eyes lifted slowly again to his face.

And she took a step toward him.

He sucked in a quick breath. “Stop.”

She hesitated, then took another step.

His body ached, and he ground his teeth together for a heartbeat, just long enough for her to reduce the distance between them by another foot or so. “Don’t.”

She came to a stop within arm’s reach, and he could see in the diffused light coming through the falls the desire darkening her blue eyes. “I want to.”

His fingers tightened reflexively on the canvas pants in his hand. He wanted her to, also. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

She lifted her right hand to touch his back, and he rasped in a breath, feeling his muscles bunch under her fingers. “You feel good.” She dragged her fingertips down along his spine, then lower, over his buttocks.

Kallan dropped the cargo pants and spun, catching her hand. “Think, Andrea.”
Goddess, please.

Her fingers twitched in his, and he could hear her quick breathing. She held his gaze for a long moment, then lifted her free hand.

He groaned when her palm skimmed over his belly. He didn’t mean to, but it slipped out before he could stop it. And when her cool fingers slid lower, wrapping around him, he forgot why he should be dissuading her.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breath warm on his chest. “Please.”

He bent to her blindly, catching her mouth and devouring her. His heart banged against his ribs, and his cock jerked into her touch. He couldn’t resist her.

He freed her other hand and slipped his fingers around her back, pulling her closer. She felt so damned good, even with the thin layer of cotton blocking him from direct contact with her skin. He lifted his other hand, dragging her shirt up to capture her breast—unbound now, its tip taut and tempting. He rasped his thumb over it, back and forth, until she arched into his touch, a soft sound escaping her.

“Andrea.” He breathed against her mouth, forcing his eyes open.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she slid the tip of her tongue along his lower lip.

“Tease.” He kissed her again, hard, then lifted his head. “Are you sure?”

In answer, she tightened her grip around his erection, then dragged her hand down to the base of him before stroking up to the tip.

His hips rocked into her caress of their own volition.

Kallan released her breast and scooped her up, swallowing back a curse when the move forced her to relinquish her grip. He carried her back into the interior of the cave, and set her on her feet long enough to grab the sleeping bag. “Help me with this.”

She unzipped it, and they spread it over the rough floor together. “I think we need a blanket too,” she murmured, rising again to rummage through a shelf until she came up with what she wanted.

BOOK: Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1
4.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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