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  His pulse quickened. Could she sense what he was feeling? He’d never heard of such a thing, especially since she was an offworlder, but there was little known about other species and their abilities. “Are your kind empathic?”

  “You mean like the Dothveks?” She shook her head. “No, I’ve just got a really attuned bullshit detector, especially with guys.”

  He was not sure what that meant, or what ‘bullshit’ was, but he got the general idea that it was not a good thing. He let out a breath. “I will not offer you bullshit to eat. I am moving quickly because I sensed someone watching us.”

  She swung her head to the right and then to the left. “Really? I don’t see anyone.”

  “Neither do I, and I have not since I first picked up on another being. I did not want to tell you and scare you because I could not be sure, and because I saw nothing.”

  Holly bit the corner of her lip. “When you say you feel them, are you saying that you’re empathic like the Dothveks?”

  “My kind lost our ability long ago, but those of us who wish to reconnect with the old ways have worked to rekindle and cultivate our abilities.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “You taught yourself how to read minds?”

  “It is not mind reading.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that how you knew what I was worrying about this morning?”

  “Yes, although I did not do it on purpose.”

  She pulled her hand out from under his. “When Danica told me that her hottie barbarian could sense what she was thinking, I didn’t totally get it. Now, I’m not sure how I feel about you knowing what I’m thinking.”

  “I do not know what you are thinking,” he said, although it wasn’t hard to tell what she was thinking at the moment, since her expression was dark and her eyes were slitted in suspicion. “I only get general impressions of your emotions.”

  Holly folded her arms across her chest. “What am I feeling now?”

  Irritated. Upset. And something fainter. Curiosity again. But not from her. And not as distant as it had been.

  He grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, almost sending both of them tumbling down the side of the sand dune.

  “What the actual fuck?” She stumbled after him, swatting at his hand. “We weren’t done talking.”

  “We’re done for now.”

  Her irritation was not quite full-blown anger, but he couldn’t stop. Not even when he felt the wound in his side open and the sharp pain made him suck in a breath.

  “Wait a second,” she said. “Did you sense someone again?”

  He didn’t answer, but he looked down and locked eyes with her. She stopped struggling, nodding and running alongside him to keep up.

  “Do you think they’re dangerous?” she asked, after they’d gone across a few more dunes. Her breathing was labored, and the words were jerky.

  “I do not know,” he admitted. “But they want something.”

  He didn’t want to think that the thing they wanted—the thing they were so curious about—was actually her. He gripped her hand harder, determined to protect her and get her to safety, even as blood oozed down his side.

  Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and the ground shifted under his feet, then it was rushing up toward him. Holly screamed as they both pitched over the side and rolled down a slope of sand. He lost her hand as they tumbled, and when he landed, he scrambled up to find her.

  She was not far from him, and she was already pushing herself up on her hands and knees when he put an arm around her. She blew sand out of her mouth, wiping at the shimmering dust clinging to her face and hair.

  “I do not know what happened,” he said, as he helped her brush sand off her cloak.

  She looked at him, her eyes scanning his body and then her mouth gaping. “I think I know.” Her gaze returned to him, her eyes flashing. “How long has your side been like that?”

  He looked down, instinctively raising a hand to cover the blood dripping from underneath the blood-soaked fabric ringing his waist. “I do not know.”

  “Now who’s lying?” She put a hand under his elbow. “Come on, you need to sit.”

  He jerked his head up. “No. We need to keep moving.”

  “T’Kar.” Her voice with calm and low. “You can’t keep moving. You collapsed. That’s why we fell down the dune. You’re wound is bleeding again—probably because you’re exerting yourself too much—and you’ve lost a lot of blood. We need to rest.”

  “Not now,” he said, even as she guided him to sit down. “Not when there is someone after us.”

  She slipped her pack off her shoulder and found the bottle of water, handing it to him while she inspected his injury. “We don’t know for sure that someone is out there, or that they’re coming for us. For all we know, you’re sensing the Dothvek village. It can’t be far from here.”

  Maybe she was right. He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness threatened to level him. Maybe he was picking up on Dothveks.

  T’Kar pressed his lips together as she unwound the cloth covering his gash and tried to ignore the low hiss of breath she emitted when his flesh was bare. He could hear her pawing through the pack again.

  “Next time your separatists buddies pack you a go bag, remind them to include a med kit, okay?”

  He clenched his teeth when he felt a sharp sting in his side, opening his eyes to see her pouring water onto his cut. “You should not. We need to save that for drinking.”

  She shook her head. “If this gets infected, no amount of drinking water will save you. Don’t worry. We’ll reach the Dothveks before water becomes an issue.”

  He was too weak to argue with her, dropping his head back and taking deep breaths. At least he no longer sensed the other mind. The pulse of interest was gone, but just as suddenly, his head was filled with a messy swirl he’d never experienced before.

  His eyes flew open, and he reached for his blade even as he saw the beady-eyed creatures surrounding them.

  Twenty-Four

  Holly had washed out his cut, but the gash still oozed blood. Whatever healing had taken place overnight had been undone when he’d practically dragged her up and down more sand dunes than she could count.

  She let out an impatient breath as she pressed the clean part of the fabric over the cut and rewrapped it. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold at least until they reached the Dothveks and her crew. Danica had taken some medical supplies from their old ship before it had been blown up, and she hoped there was something that would help T’Kar heal, because for a gold-skinned alien, he was starting to look pretty pale.

  Before she could tell him that he was good to go, his eyes opened, and his hand moved quickly to the blade on his belt.

  “What’s wr—?” she started to ask, but the words died on her lips.

  Following his gaze, she saw the creatures coming over the dunes on all sides, and she moved closer to him. Holly knew she shouldn’t have been surprised there were more species on the planet she hadn’t seen, but she couldn’t help staring.

  The squat aliens were covered in brown cloaks, but she could see their nearly translucent skin beneath the hoods, along with beady eyes that almost glowed blue. They were not even half her height—and significantly smaller than T’Kar—and they rode strange animals that looked like giant centipedes. Holly hadn’t been a huge fan of the furry, camel-like creatures the Dothveks used to cross the desert, but she’d take the ornery animals any day over these slithery things.

  T’Kar stood and pulled her with him, squaring his shoulders and holding his blade in one hand. “What do you want?”

  One of the aliens replied, his language a strange series of clicks that her universal translator had a difficult time decoding. But even only understanding every third word, she knew they did want something. What, exactly, she didn’t know

  “We have nothing of value,” T’Kar said. “We are traveling to the Dothvek village.”

  A few of the aliens glanced back
over their shoulders, letting Holly know that at least they were headed in the right direction.

  “I am returning her to her crew,” T’Kar added, indicating Holly with a tip of his head.

  More clicky chattering from the lead alien on his oversized centipede. T’Kar stiffened and adjusted the blade in his hand. “Why would I do that?”

  The alien flashed a blaster from under the long sleeve of his cloak.

  “Hey,” Holly said, pointing at the blaster. “That’s from our ship.”

  “They are sand scavengers,” T’Kar told her in a low voice. “They, no doubt, stole it from your ship.”

  “Sand scavengers?” Holly shook her head. “Boy, your planet is just full of fun surprises, isn’t it? Are they violent?”

  “From what little I know, not usually. But we must give them something to pass freely.” T’Kar tossed one of the packs at them. “Let’s hope we do not need the tent again.”

  Holly shot the aliens a look as one of them scurried forward to retrieve the bag, carrying it back to their leader, who opened it and inspected the contents. She wished she had a blaster herself, right about now.

  More clicking, and T’Kar put an arm around her waist. “That’s not going to happen.”

  She looked up at him, the hard set of his jaw making her stomach flutter. “What are they saying?”

  “They don’t want what I offered them. They want you.”

  She faced them, raising one hand and her middle finger. “No fucking way. You may not understand my language, but I hope you understand this.”

  The scavengers looked at each other, their chatter becoming louder. The giant centipedes they rode twisted back and forth restlessly in the sand, making Holly shiver at the snake-like movement. Everything about these scavengers was repulsive.

  T’Kar pushed her behind him slightly and bent into a fighting stance. “That leaves us with one option.”

  Holly gulped as she glanced around. They were outnumbered by a lot—she counted at least a dozen creepy scavengers on even creepier mega-centipedes—and T’Kar had one blade. He’d literally brought a knife to a gun fight.

  Fuck fuck fuck. She would have considered trying to outrun them if she didn’t suspect that the sand centipedes were fast as hell.

  The scavengers moved to flank them, and T’Kar swiveled around, keeping her tucked behind him. Fear and fury radiated off him, even as he flinched in pain with each move.

  The lead scavenger shouted something, and two of the others rushed forward—one from each side. T’Kar slashed at them, bending low and cutting the scuttling legs of one centipede, and then spinning to strike the other animal.

  The scavengers flew off the injured creatures and into the sand, their hoods flying off to reveal wrinkled skin that hung off them as if it was melting. Holly clutched T’Kar tighter as the aliens got to their feet, screaming and running toward the animals bleeding out on the sand.

  Holly braced herself for another attack, but instead, she saw a flash of red and felt T’Kar jolt. He sank limply to the ground next to her, before she could register that the leader of the alien scavengers had fired the blaster.

  “No!” She fell down next to him, putting her hand over the scorched flesh marring his tattoo. She couldn’t feel his heartbeat, but hers was racing. She slapped his cheeks as his head lolled to the side. “T’Kar, wake up. Come on.”

  Her heart constricted. She couldn’t feel him anymore. She hadn’t even known how much of his emotions she’d been sensing until they were gone. She’d never felt so empty and alone. Her skin went cold, and she pressed her body into his, trying to feel his warmth.

  Doughy hands pulled at her and she lashed out, hitting the creatures as they tried to grab her. T’Kar’s knife was still in his hand, and she snatched it up, slicing the arm of the next alien who reached for her. And then another.

  More screams tore through the air, and dark blood splattered the sand. Good, she thought. Let them feel some of the pain. Before she could take out any more of the vile creatures, something hard hit her head, and she slipped into darkness.

  Twenty-Five

  T’Kar woke with a start, the hot sand burning his chin. He tried to move his arms, but they seemed to be pinned to his side. Not pinned, just immobile, as if they were stuck in something thick.

  He cracked his eyes and panic gripped him. It would have brought him to his knees. That is, if he hadn’t been buried up to his neck in the sand.

  Swiveling his head as far as he could, he quickly scanned the horizon. Nothing. No Holly. No scavengers. Just endless sand, although the suns had dipped considerably lower. How long had he been out, and how the hell had he gotten neck-deep in the sand? It wasn’t like the sand had blown up around him. No, he’d clearly been buried on purpose.

  The last thing he could remember was bringing down two of the scavengers. Then a flash of pain and Holly screaming. After that, nothing.

  What had happened, and where was he? Had the scavengers put him in the sand, the last step in an elaborate torture ritual meant to draw out his death? Panic twisted in his gut as he imagined dying of thirst under the hot glare of the suns. He had never heard of this as a punishment meted out on the sands, but there was much he did not know about sand dwellers, that much was clear.

  “You will not die. The sand helps you heal,” a gruff voice said from behind him.

  T’Kar craned his neck but could only catch the smallest sliver someone behind him. Someone large ,with lots of long, dark hair, and heavy black marks on their bare chest. His heart pounded. A Dothvek.

  “Who are you?” T’Kar asked. “Am I in the Dothvek village?”

  The male made a low, scornful noise that told T’Kar that they weren’t in the village, and whomever had buried him and attempted to heal him, wasn’t part of the Dothvek clan. He wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re safe.” The creature walked in front of him and squatted down, appraising him and nodding. “And better.”

  Even though he knew he should be more outraged, curiosity got the better of him. “How?”

  The Dothvek held out a handful of yellow leaves. “They help heal. I put them over your wounds. The sand does the rest.”

  T’Kar had never heard of this kind of healing, or seen leaves like that, but he was beginning to realize there was much about his planet he did not know. “Thank you.”

  The male grunted. Brown, matted hair fell over his face, but that did not hide the fact that he was Dothvek. He wore the leather wraps around his wrists that were one of the hallmarks of the clan, not to mention his black chest markings. Unlike the Dothveks he’d encountered who wore low-slung pants, this one only wore a rough animal skin around his waist. He was clearly past the age of maturity, with broad shoulders, bulging arm muscles, and facial hair, but he was not old. What was he doing out on his own?

  T’Kar understood the Dothvek tongue. It had been easy to learn, since it shared a root and many common words with the Crestek language. He did not know how this Dothvek understood him, though.

  The Dothvek grunted and stood, walking behind him again. “We know more about your kind than you think, Crestek.”

  T’Kar could hear the disdain in his voice. Like most Dothveks, he did not think highly of his sworn enemy. Not that T’Kar blamed him. The two peoples had been locked in a tenuous stand-off marked by occasional incursions and battles for generations.

  “If you despise me so much, why did you save me?” he asked, before he could think better of it.

  “I despise the scavengers more.”

  Well, T’Kar supposed that was one thing he had going for him.

  “I am grateful to you, but I need to go.”

  “You need more time.”

  “I need to find her.” T’Kar said, hearing the urgency in his voice.

  He felt the same flash of curiosity he had earlier on the sands. So, he’d been right. Someone had been following them, and it wasn’t just the scaven
gers.

  “The female,” the Dothvek said, walking back in front of him. “The one who was with you. The one they took.”

  “You saw them take her?” Murderous rage toward the scavengers filled him, and he saw the Dothvek raise a sloped eyebrow.

  Then he jerked his head up and made a clicking noise. “I heard, but when I arrived, they were gone. Only you remained on the sand. I decided to save you.” He tilted his head. “I had never seen a Crestek up close, before.”

  For the first time, T’Kar wondered if he should be afraid of this Dothvek. He hadn’t picked up on any feelings of outright malice, but his skills were also not honed.

  “Why would I harm you after I saved you?” the creature asked, clearly sensing his trepidation.

  He disappeared behind him again, and T’Kar heard sounds of rustling fabric and crackling fire. “Thank you again for saving me, but you understand why I must leave. If the scavengers have my mate, I must go after her.”

  “The female is your mate?” The Dothvek’s interest flared. “But she looks so strange.”

  “She is an offworlder, but she is also my mate. We were bonded in a Crestek ceremony and I have claimed her.” He wasn’t sure how far this male’s interest extended, and he wanted to make sure he understood that Holly was his.

  The Dothvek chuckled. “Do not worry, Crestek. I have no intention of taking your mate. I have not forgotten that much about myself or my clan. I have never seen one like her before, that is all. Are there more offworld females?”

  “She is part of a crew that crashed here. All females.”

  “If she is an offworlder, how do you understand her? Does she speak Crestek?”

  T’Kar jerked his head up with a click in his throat. He twisted his head so the Dothvek could see in his ear. “This device translates her words for me.”

  The barbarian squinted at it, cocking his head to one side and wrinkling his nose. “Crestek technology.”