Hearts of Ishira (Hearts of Ishira Saga) (5 page)

Green eyes, burning into hers, a face set with grim resolve, huge sword in one hand…a sense of protection, safety… home.

The image hit her, tugging her memories back to the fore. Before she could place the image in her head, Arianna felt a hand on her shoulder. The contact seemed to chase all thought away, confusing her for a blinding moment. Against all reason, terror surged through her - terror of what these men wanted, confusion about what had happened to her, where she was. Momentarily forgetting that she had been talking to one of the men telepathically, she cried out in fear.

Panicked, she rolled away from the touch of the man, off the stretcher and right into a mud puddle. Her leg felt like it had been ripped off, but she fought with everything she had in her to get away.

She’d managed to startle the alien male long enough to scuttle backwards on her hands and one foot, though pain ripped through her torso and her other leg dragged uselessly as she moved. The blanket pulled from her body, sucked away by the mud. She watched, her chest burning with short frantic breaths, as another girl was chased down, snatched up, and delivered into the ‘corral’ the men were forming with their tall, muscular bodies. The girls were trying to fight, but the men were simply too big, too muscular, too determined to keep them. There were far too many of the aliens for the girls to be able to escape. If he had to, one man was large and strong enough to easily hold one squirming, fighting woman, so the corral of bodies wasn’t even necessary.

Arianna’s heart shot into her throat when she realized that, her injured brain struggling to gel memory with observation. Fear won out.

Too many men, all surrounding her and those poor girls. Far too many to fight. Arianna was a survivor, but she was also a realist. Her terror fought with a soul-deep knowledge that the men wouldn’t hurt them. Losing the will to continue the battle, Ri finally met the eyes of the man who had touched her and memory came rushing back once more.

He hadn’t moved, hadn’t tried to chase her. Instead, he watched her, his eyes darting to her leg as he held out a hand. He shook his head as though imploring her to stop, to stay still. Those eyes weren’t threatening, were instead wide with the urgent effort to communicate with her.

Green eyes, burning into hers, a face set with grim resolve, huge sword in one hand…a sense of protection, safety… home.

The memory of him overlaid the actual man, confusing her again for a second before settling into just the man in front of her. She blinked as her brain seemed to come back on-line.

“You,” she murmured with surprise, wincing as the effort to speak brought burning shafts of pain through her skull.

He obviously understood her through their mental bond, if not from her words. He nodded quickly, his face earnest though his eyes were tormented with worry for her. He meant her no harm, was there to help. She held onto the image of him standing above her, sword in hand.

Against her will, Ri felt the fight leave her completely. With its absence, the pain rushed in to encompass her. She slid down the tree, darkness folding in on her in waves with every
whomp
of her head. Calling forth every ounce of energy she had left, she tried to remain conscious so she could help communicate with the women, but it was too late. Her head felt like spikes had been jammed through it and her efforts to escape had only succeeded in renewing the pain. She might even have injured herself again. And she was naked once more, she realized. Cold, muddy, she was one big mass of aching suck.

As she lost consciousness, she locked gazes with the big man with gray and black markings and sleek black hair who was now kneeling in front of her, reaching for her, his expression full of fear. She sent out one last feeble plea for help. The man narrowed his gaze on her, his eyes meeting and burning into hers. His mouth worked as though he was trying to tell her something, but she was too weak to fight the pain or fear any longer. As Arianna descended into the blackness, she prayed that she’d remember him more quickly when next she woke.

From within the corral of huge male bodies, Bev watched the men as she tried to console and calm the girls already there. But these women didn’t know her, didn’t trust her, and with the brunette awake again and issuing idiotic orders, tension was rising. Amy, the erstwhile ‘leader’ had awakened with claws out, fighting tooth and nail against the men who were trying to see to her injuries.

Bev witnessed the men’s reactions carefully, trusting Ri’s assertions that the men were there to help. At the first sign of Amy’s fear, they had backed well off, hands up in a non-threatening gesture. While Amy fought and urged the others to do the same, her friends stood there, confused, cold, and shaken. They had seen the men back off, too. Some of them had been awake for the entire fight, from the creatures’ first attack to the arrival of the men in defense of the girls. The more intelligent among them realized that the men didn’t intend to hurt them… just as Ri had tried to tell them. Injured and showing signs of shock, the women now stood in the intensifying rain, shaking with cold and fatigue. A medic strode into the corral, arms piled with thin blankets. The girls gratefully took the meager coverings and hid their bodies as best they could. Bev wrapped a sheet around herself, but it did little to ward off the rain and cold. Teeth chattering, she looked at the group, hoping to see a friendly face among the throng.

Meeting Bev’s eyes, a tall, lovely African-American girl separated from the main group. She hurried to Bev’s side as one of the women nearby stirred to wakefulness.

Bev caught the gaze of the medic, who was now devoid of blankets, and signaled for help with the rousing woman. The black girl held the injured woman’s hand as the medic came over. He gave them a wary glance, pulling a kit from his belt and laying out his supplies on a small cloth at his side. He looked at both of them questioningly and when they nodded he went to work on an ugly gash on the girl’s thigh. It bled sluggishly as he sprayed the site with what Bev assumed to be some sort of numbing agent. After scouring and irrigating the wound, he pulled out a pen-shaped instrument and a laser beam shot out, cauterizing and closing the gash so that it was a neat, red line. He slathered a salve onto the wound then carefully bandaged it, murmuring to the young woman as he worked, as though trying to reassure her though he knew she didn’t understand his language.

Bev and the black girl sat back, watching it all unfold. The alien’s tenderness with their companion reassured them as nothing else could have.

“So how did your friend know that these guys were coming to help us?” the black girl asked quietly. The medic looked up at them, obviously curious at their words, but since he didn’t understand them he went back to his work.

“I don’t know,” Bev shrugged. “She said something about being psychic.”

“You believe in that stuff?” the girl asked, strangely hesitant. Bev shrugged again, then grinned ruefully.

“I do now.” At the girl’s curious look, Bev admitted, “She also did something earlier, took energy or something from me to help her get through the pain and help you guys.”

“It was really gutsy of her to go up against Amy,” the black girl said, her brows coming together in concern. “I don’t know why Amy hates her so much, but when she gets like this, she’s hell in high heels Your friend’s hurt pretty badly. Might want to keep an eye on her until she can protect herself. Never know what Amy’s gonna do.”

Bev looked toward Ri and nodded.

“I kind of figured,” she said softly, frowning with the memory of Amy’s instant bile toward Bev’s new friend.

“I’m Chelsea,” the African American said, offering a filthy, bloody hand in greeting.

“Bev,” the blond said with a smile, returning the hand-shake with an equally grimy hand.

“I’m Kim,” came the weak voice from between them. Smiling with relief, they looked down at the young woman they had been helping and Bev found herself laughing. Kim smiled wearily in return. Bev looked at the medic, a question in her eyes as she mimed helping Kim to sit up. The warrior nodded, then gently assisted Kim to a sitting position, backing off the moment she was stable. But he didn’t go far. She stared at him, startled at first but then curious. He stared back at her as though he’d never seen anything like her. Bev bit her lip to hold back a grin. It was obvious that the big warrior with the gentle hands was smitten by Kim’s petite, Latino beauty.

“Kim?” the man said hesitantly, cocking his head to one side.

Kim blinked, her eyes wide with surprise, but nodded and pointed at herself. “Kim.”

He grinned at her, his expression now radiant, and jerked his thumb toward his chest.

“Jax.”

“Jax,” Kim repeated, reaching tentatively toward his face. He stilled as she slowly reached out and touched the dark gold markings that blended from his face into his tawny hair, then he smiled winningly at her. She gasped and drew back her hand.

“I’m a nurse,” she told him. He frowned and shook his head, not understanding her. She sighed and leaned over, taking up a roll of bandages and his hand. She quickly, expertly, wrapped his hand as though he’d sprained his wrist. His eyes widened as he tested the wrap. He pointed to her thigh, his eyebrows going up in question, then he looked around and pointed to Bev, who was absently rubbing her swollen shoulder and bleeding sluggishly from several gashes and cuts. Laughing, Kim nodded.

“Sit,” she ordered Bev, her tone brooking no argument. With her own wound taken care of, Kim went into emergency mode, naked as the day she was born. Jax showed Kim the various alien implements he was using, repeating their names several times and showing her how to use them. At some point during the exchange, he took off his cloak and draped it over her. Kim stared up at him in surprise, her cheeks flaming as she offered him a shy smile in thanks. She took her hands away from Bev’s injuries long enough to surround herself with the lovely, warm cloak, thrusting her hands through holes in the front. Jax wrapped his arms around her long enough to fasten the cloak securely between her breasts, then withdrew to point to Chelsea, motioning that he wished to see to her while Kim attended Bev.

Bev sat patiently as they tended to her and Chelsea. She ached and the cuts and abrasions stung, but she didn’t think anything was broken. She might have a sprained shoulder or something, but compared to some of the other women, she was in great shape. The women that hadn’t yet allowed themselves to be treated were watching, eyes narrowed on the medic. Bev supposed that being a good example was the best thing she could do at the moment and remained still until Kim sat back on her heels, nodding with satisfaction.

“I think you’re good to go,” Kim said, turning immediately to the group. “Who’s next? Come on, some of you are still bleeding. Can’t you see these guys don’t plan on hurting us?”

“We don’t know what their plans are!” Amy snapped, thrusting out an arm to prevent a girl from limping to Kim’s side. “They could just be treating us so they can do something nasty later.”

Kim scowled at the girl, shaking her head.

“You’re an idiot,” she sighed. “They haven’t made the first move to hurt any of us.”

“The big one knocked me out!” Amy growled.

“Because you were attacking him,” Bev shot back, angry on the male’s behalf. “He was helping us and you attacked him. He reacted as any reasonable man would, defending himself from an unknown threat.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, we do,” Chelsea put in. “You didn’t see how horrified he was when he realized what he’d done. He immediately called someone over to help you, you ingrate. Now chill so these girls can get the help they need.”

As though Chelsea was the voice of reason the girls needed to hear, several of the women shoved past Amy, either moving toward Kim and Jax or allowing other medics to approach them. The men watched from the edges of the group, waiting until the women made a move to accept their help. But once the first girl nodded and held up an arm that looked like road rash from hell, the others were surrounded by teams of medics and the healing began. Though the girls were obviously still scared, they trusted Kim and Chelsea enough to reach out for help.

Watching the warriors go to work, Bev remembered how the aliens had gone into immediate action when they came upon the women. Half of the warriors had engaged the attacking animals, putting their big bodies between the girls and the angry teeth and claws of the predators. The other half had encircled the girls, or at least they had tried. She sighed. Upon seeing the large, alien men, some of the women had run screaming into the forest. Idiots. A number of the men had given chase while the rest had immediately opened medical kits and begun working on the women who were lying unconscious or too injured to fight them.

Bev had initially lost sight of Arianna, but found her being tended by a male with black hair and one of his companions. She wanted to go to her new friend, but felt that someone with a bit of sense should stay with the injured girls. She watched as the male that had protected Ri spoke with another of his men, gesturing toward Bev. Her eyes widened as the warrior headed straight toward Bev, his light blue gaze locking with hers. She met it and slowly stood, ignoring Kim and Jax’s admonishments to stay still. She would face him standing tall and proud. He spoke to her but she shook her head, her brow furrowing, hoping he realized that she didn’t understand him. With a frustrated sigh he held up a syringe then indicated that he needed to inject her. Swallowing trepidation, she gave him a questioning look and he used a bit of sign language to augment his gentle voice. He wanted to inject her behind the ear, indicating something would be left there. His earnest expression and hand movements got through to her.