Falcon’s Captive (12 page)

“Nakos?” she repeated. “What did you mean about a smell?”

He could have refused to answer, but what defense could he throw up against that gentle, caring voice? Still, he ordered himself to wait until the familiar nightmare had lost its hold on him. When, finally, it did, he willed himself to relax. After pushing herself off him, she stretched out beside him. Before he could guess what she had in mind, she took his hand and rested it on her belly.

“Does anyone know what’s behind your dreams?”

“No.” His fingers twitched.

“Why not? Maybe your shaman could help.”

Tau hadn’t been the shaman back when the too-familiar nightmare had been reality. He couldn’t possibly understand. No one could.

“Why don’t you trust him?” she asked.

“I never said—”

“You didn’t have to.”

He’d never noticed how dark the tent was at night; at least, it hadn’t made such an impact before. He supposed he should be grateful for it because he didn’t have to look at her, but it wasn’t that simple.

“You know nothing about us,” he countered after a moment. “The Ekewoko are strangers to your—what do you call yourselves?”

“Falcons.”

“What? Why?”

A fine tremor ran through her. “Falcons—are skilled hunters. No bird is swifter. We, ah, admire them.”

“So much so that you’ve named yourselves after them?”

“The name came to be long before I was born. I never questioned the reason behind it.”

Her voice had taken on a tone he hadn’t heard before, something between strain and reluctance. Given everything that had taken place between them, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to say more about her background than absolutely necessary.

“Will you answer me one thing,” she said, sounding more like herself. “What are you smelling when you’re having one of your dreams?”

Her body was soft and warm and alive when he desperately needed those things. And with night close around them, he couldn’t think beyond that need. Granted, he’d already fucked her twice since capturing her, but his body had recharged itself. It would take almost nothing for him to spread her legs and house his cock in her heated walls.

Maybe she knew what he was thinking because she tugged her arms free and closed her fingers around his wrist and guided his hand to that sweet place. Feeling as if he was coming home, he began stroking her nether lips. Her breathing, although ragged, stretched out.

“The—smell. Nakos, please tell me about it.”

“Smoke.”

“What kind of a fire is it? What’s burning?”

He wasn’t going to answer. Years of keeping everything locked away should have made holding onto his secrets simple. But his existence and hers had somehow intertwined. He couldn’t, wouldn’t tell her everything but maybe enough to satisfy her.

And himself.

“Years ago,” he told her with his fingers on her and the sound of her breathing filling his ears. “We—the Ekewoko—were attacked by a fierce and powerful tribe.”

“You were a warrior?”

“A child, a boy.” He turned his head in the direction her voice was coming from. “I was with relatives at a camp a short distance from where the attack took place.”

“Some tents were set fire and you smelled—”

“Not just any tents. My grandparents were living in one of them.”

“Nakos, no.”

Yes, he corrected her, yes, his father’s parents’ home had burned to the ground. His grandparents hadn’t had time to arm themselves before fleeing the flames.

Even though he couldn’t strip emotion from his voice, he didn’t stop talking until he’d told her everything he was capable of. As he relayed it, he’d reached the smoldering tents while his uncle was still gathering other warriors around him in preparation for attack. His aunt had tried to hold him back, but he’d twisted out of her grasp.

His grandparents had been everything to him, second parents and the source for everything he knew about the Ekewoko past. His grandfather had taught him how to hunt, and he’d sat at his grandmother’s side while she cooked and sewed. His mother had died giving birth to him. His father had turned Nakos over to his grandparents to raise and lived another six years—until he’d been killed in a battle with the same savage tribe that later set the fire.

“They were dead by the time I reached them,” he said in response to Jola’s quiet question. “Stabbed to death by the enemy when they tried to flee their burning home.”

Silence surrounded his words. No matter how desperately he needed to get beyond them, he couldn’t think of anything to say, and Jola, too, remained silent. Although he was grateful because she kept her sex open to him, even guiding his hand over her core, he couldn’t take his mind beyond the too-simple sentence.

The lie.

Finally she shifted position a little. “You found them?”

“Yes.”

“Touched them? Knew they were beyond help?”

“Yes.”

“And your nightmare—you kept seeing that one thing in your mind.”

He again told her yes. Then, determined to end the topic, he lied again, saying he seldom had that dream anymore and didn’t know why it had returned tonight. Whispering, she suggested that her presence might have played a role, and he agreed.

Not long after, when she was on her back with her legs draped over his shoulders and he’d hidden his cock inside her, he told himself they’d never need to have this conversation again.

Only he knew the truth, the horrible things he’d done.

J
ola welcomed the morning. Not only wasn’t she still inside Nakos’s too-small tent, the air outside was fresher and the breeze sharp. Most important, her captor’s body heat no longer touched her.

They’d had sex an unbelievable three times since he’d hauled her nearly lifeless body out of the great lake. She hadn’t tried to fight him off. In fact, each of those times she’d desperately needed his cock in the place only Raci should have known throughout all the days and nights of her life. Fucking had left her satisfied and satiated, for a while.

Once they’d gone outside shortly after dawn, he’d given her a bowl of stew. There hadn’t been much flavor to or meat in the stew, but her stomach had welcomed it. She would have tried to identify the ingredients if she hadn’t been so aware of the interest directed her way. Nakos had left her in the care of one of his fellow warriors, a husky man he’d called Farajj after informing her that he had things to attend to which didn’t concern her. That might be true, but she couldn’t help wondering if he wanted distance between them as much as she did.

At the moment, Farajj was sitting on the ground while smoothing the sides of a spear, but he kept stopping his task to study her. Finally he set down his weapon and faced her. “Nakos says you have a human’s mind. I say you’ve turned him around until he doesn’t know what to think or believe.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Ha! The question is, why wouldn’t you try? You don’t want to be here. You’ll do everything you can to get free, even pretend to be something you aren’t.”

How little you know.
“Perhaps.”

Farajj’s expression became quizzical. “You don’t deny it, do you?”

“Deny what?”

“That my friend would be a fool to trust anything you say or do. Maybe—maybe you want to see him dead. And not just him but all of us.”

“By myself?” Going by Farajj’s smooth features, she guessed he’d recently left childhood. In a few more years, he’d have gained the wisdom a man needs to survive and succeed, but right now he reminded her of boys who would rather play and wrestle than assume responsibility. In some ways she envied him. “How would I do that?”

“Maybe because you’re more than human.”

Even before she turned her head and looked up, she knew who was speaking. The shaman stood behind her, his lips thin and eyes narrowed.

“Come with me,” Tau ordered, jerking his head at her.

“Nakos ordered me to—” Farajj started.

“Are you saying I have no right?” Tau interrupted.

Farajj shook his head so violently that his long, fine hair flew about. Not waiting for the young man to speak, Tau grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. After letting her tend to her morning needs, Nakos had retied her arms in front in such a way that there was less pressure on her wrists than before. To her relief, he hadn’t placed anything around her throat. Judging by Tau’s take-charge attitude, the shaman would have relished treating her like an animal. Hoping Farajj would tell Nakos where she was, she didn’t resist as the shaman led her over to his tent. She reluctantly went inside.

The smell was a mix of herbs and spices along with the shaman’s body odor. Unfortunately, the time she’d been forced to spend in his presence yesterday didn’t make weathering his stench now any easier. She wondered why he had no use for cleanliness, then guessed it must have something to do with protecting his shaman powers.

“You and I, we need to have time alone,” he said sternly. Not giving her time to sit on her own, he jerked her down. She fell onto her side but quickly positioned herself on her knees. He wasn’t particularly large, yet he carried himself with a self-confidence that she had no doubt came from years of wielding power.

Settling himself onto a stool made from leather and wood, he leaned forward with his hands gripping his knees. It took all her self-control not to shrink from his commanding and suspicious glare.

“I know who you are,” he said. “And what exists between your people and the birds you call falcons.”

No, you can’t! Please, you can’t.
“What do you believe exists?”

“I ask the questions, not you, understand!”

Determined not to recoil, she nodded. Her every nerve was on alert.

“I have visions,” he continued. “Visions sent to me by gods and spirits. Those forces gifted me. I have seen what falcons are capable of.”

“Did you?” She hoped he wouldn’t notice that she’d asked a question.

“You think I wouldn’t?” He filled his lungs and continued to stare down at her as if she was something lesser than him. “Foolish creature, why do you think I wanted you captured?”

Last night’s conversation had been much like this except the shaman and she hadn’t been alone then. Sensing that Tau felt freer than he had when he’d had an audience, she forced herself to incline her head a bit. Hopefully, he’d believe she was cowed. She then prayed she wouldn’t give away anything she shouldn’t.

“Ekew is a wondrous place. The gods gifted it to the Ekewoko when the earth was made, but over time our ancestors became lazy. They stopped thanking the gods for that great gift. The gods grew angry. They sent another tribe, a fierce one, to Ekew. Their warriors, whose weapons are greater than ours, forced us to leave Ekew.”

“There was fighting?”

“Of course! Do you think we are nothing but whipped animals who slink away with our tails between our legs?”

Taking his outburst as a warning to watch everything she said, she shook her head.

“Some Ekewoko died during those battles. For a long time everyone insisted we would stay and fight for what was ours, but there are so many Outsiders. We lack the warriors and weapons necessary to vanquish them.”

“So the Ekewoko decided they had to leave if they were going to stay alive?”

“Yes.” Tau whispered the word. “But no matter where we go, our hearts belong to Ekew. It’s our destiny to return.”

“What is Ekew like?”

“You think I would tell you? Ha, hardly. Someone like you would never appreciate its richness or see its beauty.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Look at this place,” he continued, sneering. “There is little dirt, mostly rocks incapable of sustaining growth. Winters are so cold that the earth remains frozen and in summer, heat bakes everything. When our scouts described this land, the decision was made to leave our women, children, and elderly near the sea where we’d spent last winter and spring.”

If he had such a low opinion of Falcon Land, or Screaming Wind as the Ekewoko called it, why had he ordered his warriors to come here?

“It seldom rains and the wind never stops.”

We’re used to it. We hear music in the wind.

“No gods bless this place.”

How wrong he was! About to tell him so, she clamped her teeth together because she guessed he was deliberately pushing her.

“Evil spirits walk here, nothing else.”

“Then why—”

“Dark spirits with a single gift.”

They were getting to the heart of why he’d wanted a captive. Her heartbeat kicking up, she studied him without moving.

“Falcons.”

Her heartbeat continuing to increase, she forced herself not to blink or speak.

“Magical predators with the speed of the gods.”

Fighting a sudden chill, she could only pray her expression wasn’t giving anything away.

“You say nothing, slave. Is it because you can’t comprehend how much I know?”

But he didn’t know everything, did he? “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, yet. First you will hear me out. And then”—he smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—“you will give me everything I demand.”

Nakos couldn’t possibly suspect what was taking place, could he? He wouldn’t leave her to Tau’s mercies, would he?

She was still searching for the answer when Tau began. As a favored son of the heavenly Ekewoko spirits, he’d been gifted with a series of dreams, each more revealing than the one before. At first he’d seen only a small bird with a slate-gray back and long, pointed wings. The underparts were white with thin, dark brown bands. The long, narrow tail was rounded at the end and mostly white except for a black tip and a white band at the end. The top of the head and along the cheeks were black, contrasting with the pale neck and throat. Most compelling were the powerful, yellow talons and piercing black eyes ringed in yellow. Black claws and beak completed the fierce image.

“At first I believed he was a hawk but smaller than any I have ever seen,” Tau continued. “Why, I wondered, were the spirits handing me this vision. Then during one dream, the hawk took flight and I began to understand.”

Tau’s voice lost some of its volume. Just the same, Jola had no difficulty hearing every word, not that she needed to because she already knew what he was going to say. At least she believed she did.

In the dream after the flying one, Tau had watched two hawks soar and sweep around each other. The smaller bird had repeatedly passed food off to the larger one, the larger flying upside down and effortlessly taking a fresh kill from the small one’s talons.

“I have never seen anything like what happened,” Tau continued. “They rose high into the sky as one, circling each other as if they were dancing with the wind. Then, together, they turned and dove for the ground. Their speed—unbelievable! My eyes couldn’t keep up.”

“That dream ended, leaving me in awe. The next night there was another vision. When it was over, I understood that I’d been watching a mating pair. The male, smaller than the female, killed prey after prey and took it to his mate so she could eat it while flying. After feeding, they mated, also in the sky, their bodies blurred. Following that, the female scraped a hollow in dirt and vegetation on a high ledge, and they nested there. She lay four snow-white eggs with red markings and spent every night keeping the eggs warm. In the day, the pair took turns caring for their offspring. When the chicks were born, their down was creamy white, their feet huge.”

Although she’d tried to relax, her heart continued its fast tempo. Her knees ached, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by changing position. If only she could get him to stop speaking!

“Are you ready to hear about the next dream?”

No!
Knowing she had no choice, she nodded. Her hands and feet were cold, her torso hot.

“No longer did I feel as if I were standing on the ground watching. Instead, it was as if I had been given wings and was flying only a few feet away while the hawk hunted. I don’t know what kind of bird the hawk caught, just that the prey was larger. He did so in midair. One instant I saw a blur of movement speeding toward earth, going faster than the fastest arrow. The next, the prey was spinning out of control, whirling in circles and dropping with its feathers swirling like a snowfall around it. It fell only a few feet before the hawk clamped its talons around the body and took it to the ground where it ate it. I have never seen anything move with such speed, not by half. I’d think if the hawk had struck its prey in the middle of its body, the blow might have killed both birds. Instead, the hawk struck a wing, which is why the prey spun the way it did.”

Tau obviously expected her to be disbelieving, but although she should give him what he was waiting for, she couldn’t. In fact, she was tempted to tell him the rest, that what he was calling a hawk but was a falcon had reached that great speed by folding back its tail and wings and tucking its talons against its body. In essence, the falcon became an arrow.

“There was one more dream,” Tau said after a short silence. “In it, I learned two things.”

Be patient. Wait him out. Say nothing.

“First, that those hawks are called ‘falcons.’ And second, that what we first believed was worthless land is where they live.”

She’d grown up believing her kind were different from all others. Even though Falcons assumed human proportions some of the time, they weren’t true humans. Instead, they were rare and special, gifts from the gods. But why would a god or spirit let Tau see as much as he had?

Even more important, what use did he intend to make of those dreams and how did his plans involve her?

“You know where falcons live when they aren’t hunting,” she heard Tau say despite the fog descending around her. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen their nests.”

Almost before he finished speaking, the fog started to lift, allowing her to comprehend it for what it was. She’d been afraid Tau knew everything about her and the rest of the Falcons. But he didn’t understand that predator and human shared the same heart.

“Answer me! Where do the falcons live?”

“You’ve been here for several moons,” she countered. “Surely you don’t need me to tell you what your scouts should have discovered long ago.”

Tau didn’t rise to his feet with Nakos’s easy grace, but he still made her aware of the difference in their size as he stood. When she was in predator form, size didn’t matter. Unfortunately, she couldn’t change here.

“That’s what I hoped and believed when we began this quest, but I was wrong. This place”—he all but spat the words—“keeps its secrets well.”

He was standing over her now, looming really. He’d spread his legs and folded his arms across his chest to intimidate her; she couldn’t shake free of his impact on her senses. Her useless arms had something to do with it, of course, but her fear came from a deeper place. He could hurt her. He was capable of inflicting pain and would do whatever it took to try to strip everything she knew from her.

As suddenly as her fear had swamped her, it died under powerful anger. He might be able to control her human body, but in her heart she was a Falcon. She’d die before she betrayed her kind.

“Why do you care?” she demanded. “A falcon is a bird. Nothing for a shaman to concern himself with.”

“How can you, a simple creature, begin to know of a shaman’s plans?”

Spittle had formed at the corners of his mouth. But if she didn’t push him, she might never learn what she needed to.

“Falcons have long been part of our world,” she said, dancing around the truth. “We admire their speed and skill, but they live their lives the same as every other creature. I don’t understand—”