Darkness Chosen: Into The Shadow Part 28

How she had missed the way he worshiped her body, every limb, every inch of skin, with his touch and his mouth!

No matter what, she was now bound to Warlord, for while she was in his mind she had learned that he loved her. Loved her with all the pa.s.sion of a man who had lived in h.e.l.l and now saw a chance for heaven.

That was why she allowed him to caress her belly and between her legs.

That was why she stroked the deep scars across his shoulders.

That was why she would let him make love to her, and would make love to him in return.

He ran his palms down the sides of her body, learning her curves once more.

Outside, the wind peeled the dry snow off the tent layer by layer, letting the daylight seep through the nylon structure. The tree boughs sang as they swayed, and the rich odor of pine mixed with the scents of their bodies.

They had almost died of the venom. They had been through h.e.l.l together.

His warm, soft lips kissed her nipples, tasted them, made her realize how sweet this affirmation of life could be.

Wrapping her fingers around his head, she held him, reveling in his breath on her skin, then pulled him up onto her. "Please," she whispered. "I want."

"What do you want?" He smiled and kissed her lightly, over and over. "Tell me."

She showed him. She dragged her hands down his chest, down his belly, and enfolded his p.e.n.i.s in her fingers.

His breath hissed between his teeth. He arched his back. His eyes closed in agonized gratification.

In mockery and delight, she said, "Before I am done with you, every time you think of pleasure, youall think of me."

He opened his eyes, looked down at her, and said, "I do. My darling, I do."

Then they moved together until the snow blew off the tent, and the bright sunshine leaked through the thin nylon, and the light illuminated his gorgeously sculpted and dearly beloved face.

After three days of unending snow and wind and blizzard conditions, the weather cleared, and the Civil Air Patrol and the mountain rescue team went out to find the Cessna Citation X. It took them two days of hard searching to locate the wreckage, but when they did, Innokenti and a dozen of his handpicked men were with them as civilian rescue experts.

Innokenti stood watching as the rescuers combed the wreckage for any sign of survivors, and shook their heads pityingly. They thought every person aboard had been killed.

Innokenti withheld judgment. He was waiting for a report from his best spotter. When Pyotr was on the wing, nothing got past his sharp eyes.

Some of the Americans murmured in amazement when a brown hawk circled Innokentias head, then flew into the trees. Innokenti followed.

There was Pyotr, jumping up and down with excitement. "Theyare here," he said. "I saw the proof. A new broken branch on a cedar."

"Maybe it was wind damage."

"Something hooked on it. The bark is broken in the middle, and the needles are stripped off the end."

"Good work."

Innokentias other men gathered around.

"Weare going after them." He sternly viewed their antic.i.p.atory faces. "You can have the girl, but leave Wilder for me."

"What about the Americans?" Lev jerked his head toward the rescuers.

Innokenti started down the hill, changing as he went. "Kill them all."

Chapter Thirty.

Warlord ducked out of the tent, dressed in layers and layers of dry clothes, and walked out into the snow.

The day was perfect, high, wispy clouds against a bright blue sky, a brisk wind, and a temperature that hovered around ten degrees. Or perhaps the day wasnat so much perfect as he felt perfect. Wonderful. Better than he had in two years. Noa"better than he had in his whole life. Karen wasnat his yet, but he had gained ground.

Of course, shead had to view his complete castration firsta"and that didnat make any sense at all. When he had realized she was in his brain, living with him the dark days of his imprisonment, he had wanted to shout out his refusal.

He had died every day in the mines, and every time Innokenti Varinski beat him head screamed in agony. Worse, the last time, when he heard Innokenti was coming, he had cried. Cried like the t.i.tty-baby the guard had called him.

But Karen didnat seem to care that head broken down, that head whined and whimpered. She almost liked him better for acting like a girl.

He didnat understand women. He never would. But he thanked G.o.d for putting thema" especially Karena"on this earth.

Karen stepped out of the tent and stretched, and didnat look at him. Because she was shy about the pa.s.sion shead been unable to hide, or embarra.s.sed that head been in her mind, or p.i.s.sed that shead surrendered.

Not that shead completely surrendered, but she would. She would. She couldnat fight him and her own desires, and when she realized that, he would get his ring on her finger as swiftly as possible. Then head spend the next hundred years teaching her to love him, and showing her she could trust him.

"You look beautiful." He took her in his arms.

"No, I donat." She managed to make him sound as if he were an idiot. "I havenat had a bath in five days."

"Absolutely beautiful," he repeated, and kissed her, and kissed her again.

She kissed him back, then pushed away as if shead betrayed too much.

He pretended not to notice. "I wish I had a cell phone so I could call Jasha and see if heas at the rendezvous."

"He didnat sound too enthused," she warned.

"Jasha is the oldest. He may not be enthused, but heas the most responsible human being youall evera""

A thin, sharp sound sliced through the air.

He shoved her back against a tree and, holding her there, scanned the sky.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Weare going now." He reached in the tent and brought out his backpack and her bag. "I should never have let us linger here."

"That was a gunshot."

"Right." Head packed two Glocks and a hundred rounds of ammunition. When head loaded the bag, head thought that if he didnat kill the Varinskis with a hundred rounds, he never would. But with Karen with him, one hundred rounds seemed pitifully few. With Karen here he wished he had an M16 machine gun. Or a tank. Anything to keep her safe.

"You think it was the Varinskis." She helped him load the weapons. "But couldnat it be a hunter?"

He strapped one pistol around his chest under his coat, and all the while he worked the possible scenarios for attack and defense. "Anythingas possible."

"Youare right." She acknowledged the words he hadnat spoken. "But not probable."

"Youare a marksman, right?"

"My father made sure of that."

As Warlord strapped a pistol around her, under her coat, he smiled into her face. "Your father had his good points."

"He prepared me for survival, thatas for sure. The old son of a b.i.t.c.h." She sounded wistful.

He understood why. Head seen the conflicting emotions that roiled in her. She hated Jackson Sonnet for raising her without sentiment or softness. Yet at the same time head been her only parent, the constant in her life, and although she didnat want to admit it, she understood what a blow to his pride her motheras infidelity had been . . . and his best friendas betrayal. "You miss him."

She nodded. "I guess I do."

"When this is over weall go see him." He put his knife up his sleeve. He hung the ropes on his belt by the snap links. Opening her bag, he said, "Get the icon." He wouldnat touch it. He still had the burns from the first time.

"Weare not taking the rest of our stuff?" She sorted through her clothes.

"Weave got to move fast." He laid out their snowshoes.

She didnat argue. She didnat complain. She didnat lecture him on the environmental impact of leaving their equipment. She brought out the icon, then the picture frame. With swift motions she stripped out her motheras picture. She tucked them both in an inner pocket with a Velcro catch. Her skinning knife went in a pocket; her camping ax hung on her belt.

He strapped on his snowshoes.

She followed suit. "Iam ready."

"Youare a woman in a million." He glanced at his portable GPS, and they moved out.

The going was downhill, but rugged. He kept them under cover where he could, avoiding deep s...o...b..nks, watching the skies, and listening for pursuit.

"Where are we headed?" she asked.

"The rendezvous with Jasha."

"If heas not there?"

"That spot is the best defensive high ground I could find. Thatas why I chose it."

"How did you foresee all this?"

"I prepared for every scenario." He glanced back at her. "When you meet my father, youall understand."

"Am I meeting your father?"

"Heall want to meet my bride."

"I havenat said yes."

"Iam hopeful." He grinned at her mulish expression, and faced front.

"How far do we have to go?"

"Are you tired?" The exercise was burning off the last effects of the venom. He felt good, yet the high alt.i.tude made his lungs fight for enough air. For all Karenas stoicism, she was completely human, and a girl.

"Iam fine."

"I can carry you."

She caught up with him. "Look. I grew up hiking around the Rockies, and they make the Sierra Nevadas look like an overpa.s.s." She fell back. "So donat patronize me, mister."

"Touchy." He grinned as he felt the blast of her fury warm his back. "Weare probably twenty miles from the wreckage. The bird hasnat found us yet."

"The bird? You mean the falcon? I thought you killed it?"

"There are more. When theyare tracking theyall always bring at least one bird. Once it locates us weare prey, and itas just a matter of time before the pack arrives to finish the job. If we can get to the rendezvous first, and Jasha is there, weall have a chance. If heas brought reinforcements, that would be better."

"How many reinforcements?" She began to sound hopeful.

"My brother Rurik."

"Oh." She was deflated.

"Donat discount my brothers. My father coached them. Coached us all. Theyare smart and vicious fighters."

"So weave got a chance?"

"Sure. Thereas always a chance." Not much of one, but the prospect of the fight cheered Warlord. He wanted that icon safely with his family. He wanted Karen where he could protect her. Most of all, he wanted to finish Innokenti. It was time to free himself of the fear that haunted his every footstep. "Depends on how many men Innokenti brought. More than eight and weare in trouble."

"Great," she muttered.

"Remembera"you canat kill a Varinski. Theyare part of the pact, essentially demons from h.e.l.l."

"Then what am I doing with a gun?"

"You can hurt them. You can protect yourself. " They were making good time, but the next stretch was an old rock slide, clear of cover, with barely a tree to protect them from watching eyes, and a great, sheer pack of snow.

Warlord stopped at the top. "No way around."

"But a great way to make speed." She pointed at a great old downed cedar. The bark was loose, and with a few swipes of her ax she held a piece as tall as she was and half as wide. She put it on the snow, pointing downhill, and took off her snowshoes.