On the Move (7 page)

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity she was safe and warm, with a man she loved, who would fight to the death for her. It all seemed like a dream. Not the standard fairy tale little girls told themselves, but a dream nonetheless.

She was almost asleep when Griffin spoke.

“I cannot tell you I love you, Addison. Not yet. I will fight for you, protect you, always.” His voice broke in the darkness. “I just cannot say the words.”

She shifted in his arms, turning toward him. In the dark she touched his face and felt the tears. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him gently.

“I don’t need to hear you say the words. If you can, when you can, then you will. For now, this is perfect.”

The dark closed around them and she fell asleep in Griffin’s arms. Even though it was far too soon to even consider a child, she had the sense something had changed, a fundamental shift had happened. It was more than telling Griffin she loved him, or his words to her. It went deeper.

She snuggled closer to his warmth, dreams of a child filling her mind.

Chapter Eight

He woke in the night, his desire for Addison almost overwhelming. She was sleeping curled away from him. For a moment he hesitated, not wanting to wake her. But the ache in his loins, in his heart, was too much to ignore.

With a hand on her shoulder, he turned her onto her back. She stirred, murmuring something with his name. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him.

Leaning over, he claiming her mouth with his, rising up over her body. Almost instinctively she reacted, reaching for him, her lips parting, her legs sliding up his thighs.

He took her immediately, hard and fast, her cries smothered against his mouth. She took him, completely, her body pliant and accepting.

But she came to life beneath him, her fingers digging into his back, her hips rising up to meet each stroke.

He came within minutes, with a deep growl, burying himself in her warmth. Addison shuddered, her body arching beneath him, and he could feel every nuance of her as she came, as she contracted around him, pulling him and his seed into her body.

Rolling onto his back, he threw an arm over his eyes, breath tearing from his throat. Addison lay beside him, her breath no less ragged. He wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but he was suddenly leaden limbed, his mind wiped clean. Whatever he thought he wanted to say could wait.

Addison curled against him again and he caught her scent. It was rich, heady, utterly feminine, carrying the scent of their lovemaking.

And beneath that, there was something else. It was fragile, tentative, barely discernable. For a moment he thought it was his imagination. He’d caught this scent before, only once, but it had left an indelible mark on him.

He’d caught that scent with his mate. And now he caught the same with Addison.

She had conceived.

* * *

Addison sat at the edge of the room Daniel had discovered, the sun at her back, her feet in the dust. Daphne worked a few feet away, carefully brushing dust away from one corner of the small room, clearing away a stone inscribed with marks and figures. They’d been working for over a month, carefully cleaning the bones. Griffin had made them tools, small brushes from banana leaves and polished wood, and picks of sharpened bamboo.

She knew now she was pregnant. The morning after the ritual, Griffin had treated her with such gentleness, as if she were made of eggshells, she finally demanded to know what was wrong. He’d told her that her scent had changed, that she was pregnant.

Even though she’d suspected, it wasn’t until she’d missed her period, and had several bouts of morning sickness, that she let herself believe that she really was carrying Griffin’s child. That had been almost two months ago.

Griffin had finally, reluctantly, allowed her and Daphne explore the ruins. Addison had been restless, chafing a bit under Griffin’s watchful eye.

“I will be careful. This is what I do, what my job is, you know.” She stood on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. He’d looked down at her, his unflinching steely gaze no longer as forbidding as it had been. She smiled, kissed him again, and walked into the jungle with Daphne.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Daphne sat back, stretching her arms over her head.

“You ask me that more than Griffin does, Daphne. It will be whatever it is. And it’s far too soon to even go by all the old wives’ tales, whether I carry it high or low, if my stomach is round or flat, if I’m sick in the morning or not. The day it’s born is the day we’ll know.”

Daphne sighed. “I’m an impatient girl, I guess.” She sighed again and Addison looked over at her. The girl was staring out over the jungle, on hand resting on her stomach, a faraway look in her eye.

“I suppose I could ask you the same question, right? How long have you known?”

Daphne turned, blushing, eyes wide. “Is it that obvious?” Then she laughed. “I guess it would be hard not to notice. I’ve been mooning around for days. And sort of obsessed with you, I’d say.”

“I would say.” Addison struggled out of the ruin, kneeling down to hug Daphne. “Do you know how far along?”

“It’s hard to know, because of the implants. But I think not more than three months. A little less than you, I guess. We’ll be able to cheer each other along.”

“Have you told Ramos?”

“Oh, yes. Well, you know, he knew before me.”

“Same with Griffin. He told me pretty much the next morning.” She shook her head. “They’d make a fortune back in the civilized world if they could market that ability.”

Daphne laughed. “There’s so much here that’s ahead of anything we know back home, with all our advancements, and technology. They may not know how to drive a car, but they’re miles ahead of most men I know back in Leeds.”

The women sat for a moment, looking out over the jungle. The birds had grown used to them and had stopped shrieking overhead. It was hot and humid, and there was a slight breeze on top of the ruins.

“Do you miss home?” Daphne glanced at Addison. “I know there’s your sister…”

“I miss Grace, but I know she’s okay now that Daniel brought back the orchid. And Daniel…I miss his friendship. But there are so many things I don’t miss.” Addison laughed. “I did have a vile headache after a week without coffee. I would’ve killed for a mug of Daniel’s special blend. But I’ve gotten over that.”

Daphne giggled. “I’d kill for a good cup of coffee! It’s the little things sometimes that I really miss.”

There was movement in the jungle and Addison caught sight of one of the guards Griffin insisted on sending with them. The man never approached them, but he was always nearby, moving silently on his rounds. Even though Addison insisted it wasn’t necessary, sometimes she caught herself looking for him among the foliage.

“The guard?” Daphne shaded her eyes, looking into the dark jungle.

“Yes. I’m finally getting used to him. Griffin worries. But there are still some of Xavier’s guards who he thinks are holding back, waiting to start some kind of trouble.”

“Are there really that many that they’d be able to band together? Ramos seems to think there were only a few and that they’d sort of joined the rest, you know, supporting Griffin.”

Addison shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Like I said, he worries. It’s part of his nature, but he’s got to be careful, I guess.”

“We should either get to work, or get back, you think?”

Addison stood, sticking a hand out to Daphne, pulling her to her feet. The women stood and then Addison impulsively pulled Daphne into a hug. They broke apart, laughing.

“Right. Do you want to look at the markings? I can’t make sense of it, but maybe you can.”

Addison nodded. “I’ll take a look. I read some monographs on area rituals before the original expedition came down, so maybe some of that will make sense.”

Daphne jumped into the small room. Addison sat on the edge, swinging her legs over, waiting for Daphne to crawl further into the small space.

“Do you know why these rooms are so tiny?” Daphne’s voice was muffled by the thick stone walls.

“No idea. Daniel might have had some thoughts.”

The foliage behind her rustled loudly, and a startled flock of birds screeched their way into the jungle. Addison frowned, watching them circle overhead. The guard wasn’t that noisy. She wondered if it was a wild animal and stood, looking back into the darkness.

“Addison?” Daphne’s head poked out of the ruins. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Addison took a step forward. “An animal, I think.”

The first stone struck her in the shoulder, knocking her off balance. She spun to her left, her ankle twisting beneath her, falling to her knees.

“Addison!” Daphne pulled herself out of the ruin. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Before she could answer another rock flew out of the jungle, hitting her in the head. She fell to the stones, dazed, closing her eyes against the pain.

“It’s her! Take her. She’s the one!” A babble of voices rose from the jungle and Addison looked up, focusing on the group of men tearing through the leaves, wielding machetes and brandishing rocks.

Daphne screamed and began to run toward her. But Addison waved her off.

“Run, Daphne! Go!” Another rock came at her and she threw her arm up. The rock hit her wrist and she felt the sickening crack of breaking bones.

Suddenly someone was lifting her to her feet. She craned her neck, looking up at the guard. A large gash ran across his forehead and he blinked as blood ran into his eyes.

“Run. Go. I will fight.” The guard stepped between her and the gang of raiders.

She was dizzy with pain, her ankle throbbing. It wouldn’t hold her weight and she thought it was broken too. She took one hobbling step, then another, before falling to the stones again. The world went gray around the edges, a wave of nausea crashing through her. All she could do was close her eyes.

Someone grabbed her arm and a fresh bolt of pain brought her head up and she stared into the eyes of a man wearing Western clothes, jeans and boots, a white-buttoned shirt. A hat shaded his face, but she could tell he wasn’t a villager.

She looked wildly around for the guard, caught a brief glimpse of him before the men engulfed him, and then she lost sight of him. But she heard his cries and shouts, the sounds of his club hitting flesh.

“You’re Addison James?” Without waiting for an answer he lifted her and she felt the bones of her arm rubbing together. This time she did vomit, most of it hitting the man who held her.

“Please…” She swiped at her mouth, then tried to punch the man. “Let go. My arm. It’s broken.”

He looked at her as if it didn’t matter he was crushing her arm. But he let go, grabbing her other arm, pulling her down the steep steps of the ruins.

“Let me go. What the hell are you doing?”

“Rescuing you from these savages, woman. What the hell do you think?”

The accent was Australian or New Zealand. But at the moment it meant nothing, other than she was being taken further and further from her home, from Griffin.

“No! I live here…I don’t need to be rescued!” She pulled against him, but his grip was like steel. He pulled her off the last tier of the ruins and into the jungle.

Addison had no leverage to fight him. The man was taller than she was, heavy with muscles, and he knew where he was going. She wasn’t able to stand on her own, much less run from him.

“Please, stop! Let me explain.”

He turned suddenly, pulling her against him. “Ever heard of the Stockholm Syndrome? You get brainwashed, ya know? Ya start thinking they’re looking out for you. But they’re not. You’re not right in the head anymore, can’t think straight. We’ll get you back home where you belong, you’ll see. This will all just be a bad dream.”

To her shock and surprise he picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. Behind them she heard more men running down the path toward them. They surged ahead, slashing the jungle with their machetes. She cringed, wondering what had happened to the guard, if Daphne had escaped.

Then her mind went to Griffin. They were taking her away from the man she loved, from the man whose child she carried. She beat on the man’s back with her uninjured hand, but it had no effect.

Apparently he carried women through the jungle on a routine basis because he didn’t seem to tire on the way down the mountain. She might have weighed next to nothing.

After what seemed like forever, and it seemed her head would explode from being held upside down, they came to a road. A Jeep sat idling and the man wrenched open the door, tossing her inside. She immediately scrambled for the other side, grabbing for the door handle. But a stocky man appeared on the other side, opening the door and sliding in beside her. She was pinned between the man who’d brought her and this other man, who stank of unwashed body and cigarette smoke.

She turned to the man again. “Please. You have to listen to me. I’m not being held. I wasn’t kidnapped. I’m here because I want to be here. You have to let me go.”

He looked down at her. “You’re dirty, you’re malnourished and you’re injured. There’s been news articles about you gone missing for months. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a reward too. But mostly, you need to be away from these savages, back with your own people.”

With that he jammed the Jeep in gear and they shot off down the steep mountain road.

There was nothing she could do but wait until they got some place where someone would listen to her.

She tried to think about anything besides Griffin, but all that kept circling her mind was him watching her walk into the jungle. She should have said she loved him, or let him talk her into staying in the hut.

But she’d been stubborn and willful, going back to the ruins. And this is where it landed her. She cradled her broken arm against her chest, crying quietly as these strange men drove her away from her home.

* * *

Griffin heard her screams before Daphne burst into the clearing. She collapsed into his arms, gasping for breath.

“What is it? Where is Addison?” He looked over the girl’s head, looking into the jungle, but she wasn’t there. “Where is Addison?”