Shadow Runners Page 2

  Sonja cast her mind back a little frantically, trying to decide just how much he’d seen, but despite the tales of their keen senses, she knew he couldn’t possibly have seen, or heard, enough to be so damned suspicious.

  He glanced away from her after a moment, fixing the other men with his gaze. “Our guest isn’t comfortable. See what you can gather up to remedy the situation.”

  The others nodded and reluctantly disappeared, moving so silently that they’d faded into the deep shadows almost before their leader stopped speaking.

  “I am Jarek … of the wolf clan, but I suspect you know that.”

  Sonja blinked at him. “How could I possibly know your name?”

  He uttered a humorless snort. “Are we playing that game, then?”

  Sonja felt a blush rise in her cheeks. She looked down at her hands before he could glimpse the spark of anger in her eyes. She was frightened and disoriented. Shouldn’t she be confused, damn it?

  He caught her chin in one hand, tilting her face up for his inspection. “We are … unnaturals. Don’t bother to spin me a tale that you had no idea you were straying into Shadowmere.”

  She didn’t try to hide her annoyance that time. “I did no such thing! I was careful to stay beyond the border! If I strayed, it’s because the five of you chased me across the border!”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Ah, a touch of spirit.”

  Sonja bit her lip.

  He grinned abruptly. “Don’t be too distressed over it. I’d suspected it was there.”

  Sonja’s irritation deepened, but so did her interest.

  Not dumb beasts, then.

  In a way, she was vastly disappointed over the discovery. It was going to make things more difficult, but she’d never shied away from a challenge.

  He changed tactics abruptly. “Who were the men chasing you and why?”

  Sonja summoned distress with an effort. Actually, it didn’t take a great deal of effort. She found it extremely distressing that he was so much more insightful than she’d expected. “They accosted me.”

  She saw doubt and real anger flash in his eyes for the first time. He transferred his attention to her attire, pushing her hand away from the torn pieces of her bodice. She shivered involuntarily as his knuckles grazed her breasts with the examination. “This isn’t just from tangling with nature, then, in your attempts to flee?”

  It was framed as a question, but she could see the thoughts tumbling through his mind.

  This was more like it!

  And yet, she could see there was a danger in allowing him to believe she’d been raped.

  She looked down at his hand, shivering again when she saw the contrast between his skin tones and the paleness of her own skin. “It was torn in the scuffle,” she said in a suffocated voice.

  He caught her chin again and forced her to look at him. “You weren’t … violated?”

  Sonja hesitated fractionally, but not only did she not want to chance that he and his men might decide to pursue the others to avenge her lost ‘honor,’ she also thought that perception might just interfere with her ultimate goal. “I managed to get away from them.” She stammered in her haste to assure him that wasn’t the case at all.

  His smile that time was purely feral. It unnerved her and, at the same time, sent a curious flicker of excitement through her. “You don’t want us to pursue them and avenge your honor? Curious.”

  Sonja paled at the implication. She felt like kicking herself, but that was a waste of effort now. “I hadn’t considered that you would have any inclination to do so,” she gasped. “Why would you? I’m … not one of you.”

  He allowed his hand to drop from her face. Relieved in a sense, Sonja discovered she was also disappointed when he rose abruptly and turned away. A few moments later, the men who’d left began to return and she realized that he’d undoubtedly heard them even though she hadn’t.

  The first to enter was almost as fair as Jarek was dark, and yet he was a long way from just being blond. His long hair was actually a multi-colored mass that ranged from medium brown to pale blond. It was hard to say whether he was most striking because of the beautiful mane or just because his strong features and excellent physique was beautiful period.

  It took an effort to refrain from staring at him.

  Sonja tried to pretend her interest was in the fire he set about making with the wood he’d carried in, but she wasn’t certain how successful she was.

  Jarek was glaring at her when she finally dragged her gaze from him, the spell broken by the sounds of another arrival.

  The new arrival was as dark as Jarek. His hair appeared to be as black as jet, although she thought it might not be true black. Despite the torches, the cave was still filled with wavering shadows and she thought those might account for the absolute inkiness of his locks.

  He was somewhat stockier and at least appeared a little shorter than Jarek and the blond, though it was hard to say since the breadth of his shoulders no doubt contributed to that perception and he wasn’t standing close enough to either of the men to tell whether it was deceptive or not.

  Despite the similarity in his height and coloring to Jarek, she couldn’t see that his features resembled Jarek’s a great deal and finally concluded that they weren’t related by blood.

  He was carrying a carcass, already gutted and skinned out—and unrecognizable.

  He dropped the carcass beside the fire and disappeared into the nether regions of the cavern—the first Sonja had realized that the cave led deeper into the side of the mountain.

  The last two of the five returned carrying more wood and another carcass just as Jarek and the other man emerged from the rear of the cave, both now attired in leather loincloths. Wicked tattoos curled around their biceps and forearms, accentuating the lithe muscles and drawing her eyes around their torsos. Strange that they would mark their bodies, and she wondered if they reflected the clan they belonged to.

  She looked around her at her surroundings.

  The cave could not be an accident, then. Clearly the men commonly at least used it for shelter if they didn’t live here.

  The stocky man was carrying the makings of a spit. When he’d settled the beast over the fire to roast he went out again.

  Sonja studied them as they went about their tasks as if she was invisible, wondering if they were as oblivious to her presence as they seemed. Somehow, she doubted it, but it was both irritating and unnerving that they at least seemed completely oblivious to her.

  Her suspicions were born up when one of the men approached her, crouched in front of her and offered her a drinking skin. “I am Byron,” he said gruffly, though there was the hint of smile in his pale eyes. He shifted slightly, nodding his head at the others as he named them off. “The little fellow there is Thorne; the fair one, Rafe; the ugly one, Arman.”

  They responded to his introduction with obscene gestures.

  Sonja bit her lip to restrain the completely inappropriate amusement that flickered through her.

  The ‘little fellow’, Thorne, was the stocky giant who’d lugged in the carcass nearly half his size. Rafe was self-explanatory since he was the only one of the five with pale hair. She wasn’t certain what he meant by ‘the ugly one’ at first, since Arman was so far from ugly as to make that sobriquet laughable until she noticed the pale scar curving along one cheek.

  The flaw didn’t detract from his handsomeness, contrary to what Byron had said, but she wondered for a handful of moments if Arman saw it that way.

  If the comment bothered him, though, he hid it well.

  “So … tell me your name, angel,” Byron demanded once she’d taken a sip from the skin and discovered it was indeed water, and not the wine she’d expected. She was sorry it wasn’t wine. A little tipsiness, regardless of the danger, would have been welcome.

  Sonja looked up at him. He was clearly the youngest of the five—dark like Jarek—youthfully slender despite the hard muscles that covered his frame a
nd he bore so strong a resemblance to Jarek that she knew they must be true brothers. “Sonja … Sonja Raine.”

  He tilted his head in that questioning sort of quirk that she’d noticed in Jarek, his nearly straight black brows tenting above the straight bridge of his nose. “And what business do you have with the beast folk, Sonja Raine?”

  Dismay fluttered through Sonja. He’d caught her off guard. The youthfulness of his face and the lack of guile in his gaze was as deceptive as her own, she realized ruefully. She shook her head. “None. The others—they were king’s men I think—chased me toward the border. You and the others brought me here. I don’t understand why. And I don’t understand why or how you conceived the notion that there was purpose or intent.”

  He chuckled. “Humans do not come here. No human female would allow herself to be driven to the very borders of the Shadow Lands … unless she had reason to come.”

  Sonja dragged her gaze from his after a moment and glanced around at the others, discovering with something of a jolt that they were all watching her with the same piercing intent as Bryon.

  Her dismay deepened. She’d seriously underestimated the beast men, she realized with disgust.

  “I was returning to my family in Thalon when we were set upon by brigands.”

  “The same brigands who chased you to the gates of Shadowmere?” Jarek asked, his voice carefully neutral.

  Sonja shook her head, wishing she’d spent more time devising a tale to cover her, but then she hadn’t expected that they would probe too deeply, damn it all! “Nay. That was nigh a week ago. I was indentured to the tinker. When robbers set upon us, I fled and hid, but when I returned later and found them all dead, I set out to return to my family in Thalon since I know no one in King Vladislav’s realm.”

  “Empty handed?” Thorne queried, doubt evident in his voice.

  Sonja blushed, but mostly with irritation. “Not exactly. I’d gathered what I could that the brigands hadn’t stolen or destroyed. It wasn’t much, but I didn’t have any choice. I thought if I had to, I might barter or beg for supplies to help me reach my home.”

  “That is a fine dagger for an indentured servant,” Jarek observed dryly.

  Startled, Sonja glanced down at the dagger she still held. They hadn’t made any attempt to relieve her of it—or seemed the least bit intimidated, she thought wryly—and she’d been so focused on watching them that she’d lost awareness that she still held it.

  They hadn’t demanded that she hand it over, and she certainly had no intention of voluntarily doing so. Twitching her skirt up, she sheathed the knife. “My father gave it to me. Know one knew I had it,” she mumbled.

  “No living soul, at any rate.”

  She didn’t see which of them had made the comment, but the insightfulness unnerved her. “The tinker was a kind man and devoted to his wife,” she said a little stiffly. “My father would not have considered indenturing me to a cruel master.”

  Jarek merely grunted in response, but there was a wealth of disbelief in the sound.

  “The broach then?”

  Sonja glanced at Rafe when he spoke, lifting her hand self-consciously to the broach he’d mentioned.

  Damn it all! She’d forgotten about the damned thing! Clearly, she hadn’t had her wits about her as she should have, as she ordinarily would have. Just as obviously, she had been far more unnerved by her ploy than she’d allowed herself to realize when she’d failed to take such things into account—or hide them.

  “It was my mother’s. It’s cleverly wrought, but not bejeweled. It has very little value beyond what it has to me.”

  “Which begs the question ….”

  Sonja gulped. “What question?”

  “What did you plan to barter?”

  Gods! This was getting worse and worse! She felt her face turning red. “I’m no stranger to an honest day’s work!” she said stiffly.

  “Obviously not if it hadn’t occurred to you an hour on your back would pay far better,” Jarek said dryly.

  Sonja gasped at his sheer audacity. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t very familiar with being propositioned, but even the uncouth louts she encountered were rarely that blunt! “You, Sir, are not a gentleman!”

  He studied her blankly for a moment before he grinned, flicking a glance at the others. “I, mamzelle, am a beast man,” he growled after a moment. “You could not have been suffering under the delusion that any of us were gentlemen!”

  Chapter Three

  Sonja clamped her gaping lips together, glancing around at the faces of the men for any sign that any of them weren’t in agreement with Jarek. All she saw, however, was desire as wild and untamed in their eyes as the glint she saw in his.

  It sent a thrill through her that was wholly unanticipated and not particularly appreciated.

  Innocent outrage didn’t seem to be working any better than playing naïve and helpless had.

  Admiration flickered through her in spite of her pique. She was accustomed to men who had no brains, at all, once their cocks got stiff. These men were far more clever than she’d anticipated and at any other time she would’ve found that thoroughly intriguing. At the moment, it annoyed her.

  Still—they desired her and that made them malleable, she was certain, as easy to manipulate once she found their weak spot as their counterparts.

  “You’re suggesting…,” she said a little faintly.

  Jarek’s black brows rose. “Nothing at all, mamzelle. I am merely stating the facts as I see them. We’ve no interest in your trinkets even if you wished to part with them. You have nothing to barter for passage beyond the most obvious.”

  Oh! Damn his hide! He was a beast and brute! He might at least spare her sensibilities by demanding his damned toll!

  “We?” she gasped disbelievingly as it abruptly dawned on her that he hadn’t said ‘I’ any of the time.

  Jarek shrugged unconcernedly. “I am alpha, but we are pack brothers. We share.”

  Sonja glared at him indignantly before she thought better of it. How very damned generous hearted of him that he meant to share her favors!

  To say nothing of the fact that it left her little leverage in case of need. How likely was it that she could play one against the other if they were so amiable as to share?

  She swallowed her mixed emotions with an effort. She wasn’t particularly squeamish at the prospect. Truth be told, she rather thought she might enjoy the exercise. She was no lady and had no pretensions, by birth, to being one. On the other hand, it behooved her in her line of work to affect the behavior of a lady and she discovered that it was so ingrained by now that the prospect of dickering with them baldly was difficult indeed. After mentally composing and discarding several possibilities, she finally stammered out an attempt at negotiating with them. “But … you’re saying that you would … escort me to the border if I … uh … if I let … if I was agreeable to the … uh…?”

  “Fucking?” Jarek supplied helpfully, a grim smile curling his lips.

  Sonja flinched and it wasn’t a calculated reaction. “Coupling with you?” she finished through gritted teeth. She’d grown far more accustomed to the nicety of manners of the court set than she’d realized, she thought ruefully.

  “With the pack.”

  She felt heat flash in her cheeks again. Her lips tightened. “That was what I meant.”

  “Just so we’re clear on that.”

  “I understood,” she said, an edge to her voice in spite of all she could do. “But you’ll take me in exchange for … uh … the coupling?”

  Jarek shook his head slightly. “It does not seem to have occurred to you that you are in no position to barter.”

  Sonja gaped at him in dismay. “But you said … or at least implied…!”

  His eyes narrowed. “It’s a bit of a double edged sword, you’ll agree,” he said musingly. “If you please us, we may feel more disposed to grant your wish—or less inclined and more tempted to simply keep you. If you fail to plea
se, we may feel more of a mind to eat you instead. In any case, I never said I’d consider ‘a’ coupling adequate compensation for our trouble.”

  Horror washed through her. Dragging her gaze from Jarek, Sonja studied the other men, searching for some sign that his suggestion was nothing more than an attempt to frighten her.

  “You wouldn’t do that,” she said doubtfully when she’d met Jarek’s gaze again.

  His expression hardened. “How would you know that, little girl?” he growled, shifting almost imperceptibly closer to her. “We are beast men. You know nothing at all about such as we are. I see a tender little lamb that I could gobble up in a few bites.”

  This wasn’t going at all well, Sonja thought in dismay, and nothing at all the way she’d anticipated. “You would have done that already if you were a mind to. Wouldn’t you rather … uh … fuck?” she added a little weakly.

  Some of the aggressive tension seemed to leave him. He turned his head to study the others. She sensed some sort of silent communication travel between them and wondered if they actually could communicate without speech.

  “I’m thinking a bit of this hart might be tender enough for you to eat, little lamb,” Rafe said almost conversationally. “We prefer ours a little … less cooked.”

  Sonja felt a flicker of queasiness but resolutely dismissed it. Clearly, she needed to keep her strength up, she thought wryly, and at least it seemed the suggestion of eating—the deer—had turned their minds elsewhere—for the moment at least. She was all in favor of that!

  Taking her silence as an affirmative, Rafe tore off a chunk, skewered it with a branch and handed it to her.

  Sonja released the grip she’d had on her bodice as she reached for it.

  Rafe’s gaze skimmed the deep cleavage instantly revealed, but Sonja pretended she didn’t notice. She could hardly manage the meat on the stick as it was. She certainly couldn’t preserve her modesty and eat at the same time.

  In any case, she didn’t feel any particular discomfort.

  Quite the contrary, she felt her blood warm in reaction to his interest.

  She ignored that, too. She needed to eat. She hadn’t had a crust of bread since her previous escort had paused to eat near midday and she’d run off what little sustenance she’d had in the pack on the horse. Despite the tangle of nerves that had her stomach in a knot, she was still hungry!