Vulcan's Woman (6 page)

Don’t come any closer.

She parted her lips and forced herself to breathe. One shaky
breath after another expelled from her chest. Tightening her grip on the
handle, she slightly rolled on top of the blade, concealing it from his view.

I don’t know if I can do this.
She couldn’t even kill
bugs.

What if the blade wouldn’t penetrate his thick furs? What if
she failed to harm him at all? Would her shattered attempt provoke a quick
death? He could easily snap her neck with a twist of his hands, which outshined
a long, torturous punishment.

His breaths echoed inside the headpiece as he squatted
beside the pelt. She gulped and her heart jumped in her chest. Her eyelids
twitched while she fought to keep them closed.

Seconds seemed to drone on forever and she sensed him
staring the entire time. As desperately as she wanted to plunge the blade into
his guts she couldn’t gather the nerve.

Finally he stood, offering her a reprieve. She peeked
beneath her lashes. The instant he spun she leaped to her feet and pushed him
with every morsel of strength she could gather. Other than a short stumble
forward he barely moved. Her blood chilled but she didn’t look back as she tore
from the hut.

Two robust men stood near the fire in nothing but
loincloths. Nauseated from panic, she glanced at the forest for an open route
to flee.

“Rocko, Grunt, seize her,” the chieftain shouted at her
back.

Her heartbeat raced. The hairs on her arms stood. And unless
she moved, she’d be recaptured.

She clutched the blade handle and dashed down the path
toward the meadow. She had no place to hide but it was better than trying to
rush past the two Barbarians and into the forest.

Someone caught her by the arm and jerked her backward. She
flayed the blade wildly through the air. It hit against something hard.
Flesh!
She heard a grunt and was immediately released.

She wanted to retch but dropped the blade and ran through the
long stretch of meadow toward the forest. In every direction stood a border of
trees and she felt as if she was running in circles. She’d completely lost her
sense of direction but knew the Barbarian camp sat to the right because the
fire peeked through the leaves.

With a long jump she breached the forest border and stumbled
to her knees. Quickly she shot to her feet and ran, smacking branches aside
until her legs nearly collapsed and her lungs begged for air. In the distance,
just outside the tree line, she saw a large area glowing under the bright moon.
The lake!
She was close to home?

With her tummy and chest burning, she charged toward the
water, jumped across the stepping-stones and hid beneath the feather tree. She
never knew the Barbarians resided so close to the lake. Which meant they also
lived close to her camp. She shuddered at the thought.

She dropped to her knees and dragged air into her lungs.
Sweat beaded her brows and tears filled her eyes. Hugging herself, she sat
down, listening to every single sound assailing her ears. The water
kerplunked
as fish or tortoises surfaced for air while crickets chirped all around her.
Then someone called her name. She froze and backed into the tree trunk.

“Wisteria,” he repeated.

The familiar voice added a spark of light to her dark,
battered soul. “Vulcan?” she whispered, her voice catching on a sob.

“I’m here.”

She glanced over her shoulder. He stood at her back just
outside the perimeter of the tree. The moonlight glistened over his bare chest
and arms as he offered his hand. He was the most beautiful sight she’d ever
seen.

“Come,” he said in a gentle but commanding tone.

“It’s not safe. We must go. The Barbarians—”

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Come.”

Slowly she stood and as much as she regretted leaving the
safety of the tree, she walked the few steps and took hold of his fingers.
“They’ll see us. We’ve got to find a safe place.”

“You’re safe with me.” He embraced her, pulling her tightly
to his body.

So tightly his heartbeat thumped inside her ear. She nestled
closer, accepting his protection, but she couldn’t shake the fear. Any moment
the Barbarians were going to charge the lake. She felt it. They couldn’t have
been too far away. Like animals, they followed the scent of their victims. “You
don’t understand. They were chasing me.” Trembling, she glanced over her
shoulder and scoured the woods. “You cannot stop them. Please!” she begged,
burying her face in his breastbone as tears trickled from her eyes. “I saw them
kill a man.”

He tilted her face. “Contrary to your beliefs, unlike the
Mountain Slayers and Flesh Eaters, they will not harm you without a reason.”

“But I,” she paused and inhaled a deep breath, “gave them a
reason. I escaped captivity. And I…” She couldn’t say the words.

He stiffened. “What did you do, Wisteria?”

“I…” All he had to do was look for blood on her hands. Was
there blood? Why hadn’t it crossed her mind until now? She shoved herself from
his arms and glanced at her hands, first the top then she flipped them over to
examine her palms, but it was too dark to see.

“What?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and slightly jerked
her. “It’s very important that you tell me. What did you do?”

“I…I…” Her lashes fluttered as she gazed into his eyes.
“Hurt someone. I stole a blade and cut him when he captured me.”

Vulcan faced the sky and his lids slowly closed.

“Now do you believe I’m in danger?”

He pulled her to his chest and tightened his arms around her
waist at her lower back. “They can be a forgiving tribe,” he said, resting his
chin on her head. “But they also retaliate by doing unto others—”

“No!” What if she’d killed him! Even though they hadn’t
harmed her after they’d taken her captive, she believed she’d eventually die at
their hands. For a chance at survival she’d risked her life by fleeing. Now it
was painfully clear it didn’t matter whether or not she escaped because they’d
find her. They outnumbered Vulcan and would kill him too.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard as he lifted her
face. “It wasn’t my fault,” she whimpered. “I was protecting myself. They’ll
find me, won’t they? And they won’t stop until they succeed. They know I reside
in the caves,” she rattled. “I can’t go back. I wanted to check on my family,
but I can’t—”

He lowered his lips and silenced her with a kiss. She
inhaled sharply through her nose and released the air slowly. Her shoulders
slumped and knees weakened, shifting her weight onto his arms. He tightened his
hands, holding her steady while he ravished her mouth. With every lap of his
tongue her fear abated. It wasn’t completely gone, just set aside briefly. As
was everything else at the moment. Everything but Vulcan. Sweet, sweet Vulcan.

Along with his succulent lips dancing against hers, his
large fingers caressed her spine in long, languid strokes. He pulled her even
closer to where his manly organ pressed into her tummy. She gasped from the
hardness and size but rather than recoil in fear she leaned forward, adding
pressure. He moaned as if in pain.

Startled, she broke the kiss and gazed into his eyes. “Did I
hurt you?”

“No, Wisteria. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Branches snapped in the distant darkness beyond the lake.
She froze. “Oh no,” she squealed. Her heartbeat faltered. “They’re here.”
Trembling, she latched on to his solid waist and snuggled against the security
of his body. “Can you see them?”

He backed her into the tree. “Stay here. And don’t move,” he
ordered, moving out of her space.

She reached for his hand but he inched away. “Where are you
going?”

“To find them.”

“Vulcan, no! Please, you’re outnumbered. They’ll kill you.”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger over his lips. “Don’t be afraid.
I’ll be with you very soon.”

“But I—”

“Very soon. Trust me.”

Her tummy vaulted when he turned and fled, his long hair
flying around his shoulders in the slight breeze. She held her breath as he
jumped into the trees and was swallowed by the thick forest. Her heartbeat
pounded uncontrollably. The pressure echoing deep inside her ears obstructed
her ability to clearly focus on the sounds of the night. Inhaling a shaky breath,
she sank to her knees at the base of the trunk. The moist grass dampened her
skin, causing gooseflesh. She shivered and rubbed her arms, tilting her face
toward the underside of the dangling branches.

Fluttering her eyelids closed, she concentrated on the eerie
darkness as her heart settled into a sluggish beat. As desperately as she
wanted to call Vulcan back she refrained for fear of drawing attention to
herself. Nor could she chance summoning Loo-La to protect her.

“Caw. Caw.”

The deafening call echoed overhead followed by the sound of
wings flapping, swooshing air. Her blood turned cold as paralyzing chills raced
up her spine. Despite her attempts to remain completely silent, her breath
became audible bursts.

The grass rustled around her. Her eyes popped open. Standing
before her were numerous Barbarians, their heads covered with boar skulls.

She was surrounded.

Completely.

Her heart lurched in fear. As they reached for her she
opened her mouth and screamed for her life.

A large, firm hand lifted Wisteria’s chin. She forced her
eyes open and gazed into the face of a bison. She couldn’t scream. Her throat
was parched and raw from screeching when the other Barbarians had dragged her
back to their camp. The little bit of life remaining in her soul drained while
gazing into the deep, black, vacant eye sockets. She’d already been battered
and bruised by his tribesmen. What were his intentions? To rip her heart out?
She had no will left to fight. Her strength had depleted while she fought for
freedom. Every inch of her body ached from tugging and pulling against them.
Now, with her arms bound tightly around the tree at her back, her shoulders
screamed in pain.

She’d relentlessly tried positioning her legs for comfort
but in her current state, comfort wasn’t an option. The back side of her calves
and thighs were dusted in ashes from constantly brushing the ground. Because
her ankles were bound together, her actions were limited and she could only
bring her legs to her chest or lay them flat. The slashes on her thighs and
tummy stung continuously.

Fear raced through her blood like cold water but she
wouldn’t let it surface for the tribe’s pleasure. She’d resigned herself to the
fact she had no way out, so she’d go down with dignity. Hopefully they would
kill her quickly as they had the Flesh Eater. They must have buried him outside
the camp because she couldn’t see any evidence of upturned dirt.

Had Vulcan met the same fate? She hadn’t heard a struggle or
fight but she failed to hear anything above her own cries of terror. She
couldn’t bear it if he’d perished at the hands of the Barbarians. The
murderous, bloodthirsty Barbarians.

Tears pooled in her eyes but she blinked them away. She
refused to let this beast see her weakness. Nor would she let him disrupt her
hopes that Vulcan was hiding in the forest, waiting for a chance to set her
free. Would he sweep her away when the tribe slept?
Please, Vulcan. Please
hurry.

The Barbarian released her chin and stood. The bottoms of
his furs barely grazed the ashes as his powerful shoulders straightened.
Despite the inability to see the man inside the mask, she felt his relentless
gaze roaming her body. The vibes revealed every angered emotion he harbored.
She couldn’t sense one little trace of compassion.

Without a sound he turned and strode across the camp to
where Jade sat weaving strips of leather. While he stopped and exchanged words
she glanced at Wisteria and nodded. Jade then set her project on the ground and
rose to her feet.

Wisteria gulped as she neared, her hips swaying in harmony
to her quick pace, her eyes narrowed into thin slits. Wisteria looked down at
the blood on her thighs. She’d seen the woman’s softer side but right now she
appeared nearly as daunting as the chieftain.

“You are a dense woman,” Jade seethed. “What made you think
you could escape the tribesmen? Now I’ll be expected to clean up their mess.”

Wisteria kept her eyes averted. “What will they do to me?”
she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Jade squatted and forcefully lifted Wisteria’s chin, her
upper lip flush against her teeth. “You sliced Grunt’s arm. You’ll be cut.”

Do unto others. “
Then what?” she asked, locking her
gaze on Jade’s. “I’ll be free to go home?” she added sarcastically.

“This
is
your home.”

“I’ll never become one of you,” Wisteria tried to shout but
her voice cracked. “I come from a peaceful clan. I’ll not become a barbaric
killer.”

“Guess again, beauty queen. The chieftain made his decision.
You’ll follow his demands.”

Beauty queen?
What was that supposed to mean?
Wisteria scowled. “Or what?”

“He’ll gut you.” Jade dropped Wisteria’s chin and stomped
off. She halted in the center of the camp near the fire, raised her arms above
her head and loudly clapped her hands three times.

Numerous hut flaps swooshed open and tribesmen stepped into
the clearing, fully covered in their furs and masks. They gathered in a group,
their voices muffled as they conversed. The distance was too great to hear
specifics but Wisteria knew they were talking about the ceremonial ritual with
her as their sacrificial victim. What was involved in the
cutting
?

Her blood ran cold.

Someone please help me.

The Barbarian in the bison headpiece was the last to emerge.
A burly man wearing only a loincloth with blood smeared on his forearm joined
him beside the hut and handed the large beast a blade similar to the one she’d
stolen.
Grunt?

They fell into a side-by-side pace while closing in on
Wisteria. When her gaze met Grunt’s she skittered close to the tree, pulling
her knees to her chest.

A faint
squawk
echoed behind her back. She glanced
over her shoulder and saw a tiny creature with its nose buried in the grass and
back end lifted in the air. Its wings flapped and legs kicked until it was able
to right itself on its talons. It shook its head before browsing the camp, its
eyes settling on Wisteria. After another faint squawk and a final flap of its
wings it waddled toward her. Was it little Birmon or had the other missing eggs
hatched?

The camp fell silent as the animal neared. Jade gasped.
Grunt halted but the chieftain continued walking forward. Wisteria sucked in a
breath and held it as the creature stopped at her waist. Its mouth opened,
exposing hundreds of sharp teeth as if it was going to bite a chunk from her
hip. Her eyes broadened and she gasped when it hopped a step closer and
shivered as though it’d caught a chill. Its head tilted side to side while its
beady eyes intently studied her face.

“Ack.”Though high-pitched, the sound it made wasn’t
its normal squawk. Was it a hunger call?

She swallowed, pulling her knees tighter to her chest to
protect her vulnerable tummy. The huge Barbarian appeared directly behind the
creature. Hopefully he’d have enough sense to stop its assault if it started
chomping on her flesh.

“Ack,”
it screeched again, seconds before it wiggled
its head in between her thighs and abdomen.

Its cold snout rubbed against her skin but oddly it was
smooth and didn’t hurt. Then she noticed the blue tint on its spikes. “Birmon?”
she whispered. If only he could bite through her ropes to set her free.

Holding her breath again, she lowered her legs to the
ground. He struggled to climb onto her lap, flapping his wings while his talons
scraped the outside of her knee for leverage. She shifted, giving him a little
boost. Finally, he nosedived into the seam between her thighs, plopped down on
his belly and pulled his wings over his head.

The Barbarian squatted at Wisteria’s waist and stared,
seemingly intrigued by the creature’s actions. While the tribe people expressed
fear, he’d shown interest in the unique little monster.

“Please don’t hurt him,” Wisteria said. “He’s harmless.”

Birmon’s head popped up and he sniffed Wisteria’s belly, his
cold nose grazing her skin. He focused on the dried blood, his snout moving
back and forth at a frenzied pace. She sucked in her tummy, fearing the scent
of blood stirred his lust for flesh. Vulcan had said he may be a carnivore and
carnivores loved meat. Her heart pummeled her chest while she agonized over the
first chomp of his sharp teeth. “Get him off me,” she pleaded, her voice
trembling.

Just as the man reached forward to remove Birmon from her
lap, Birmon’s tongue darted outward and he began licking her wounds. The
Barbarian retracted his hands. Wisteria snapped her eyes shut. The underlying
pain from the slashes instantly diminished beneath the lapping of Birmon’s
coarse tongue. When the warm, scratchy sensation eased from her tummy and
started on her thighs, she cautiously fluttered her lids open. Amazingly the
marks from the whip had completely disappeared.

Birmon lapped at her thighs until every trace of blood was
gone then he snuggled close to her belly and pulled his wings over his head
again. Wisteria stared in awe at her flawless thighs and tummy. Where there’d
been torn flesh, which would inevitably result in scars, was now smooth skin
with no signs of Sledge’s aggressive punishment.

Her eyes rounded in shock and she sensed the Barbarian’s
astonishment as well. As he brushed his hand lightly along her smooth thigh
where the lacerations had been, warmth rushed through her body.

She shuddered at her reaction to the beast’s touch and bowed
her head in shame.
A ruthless Barbarian! How can this happen?

Go away. Please go away.

She refused to search inside the mask for his eyes. Although
he was close enough she just couldn’t do it. Instead she focused on the tiny
stones mixed with ashes surrounding her and the tree. The thought of sitting in
human soot appalled her but not as drastically as the heat from the man’s palm
seeping into her flesh. “Please unhand me,” she murmured, trying to drag her
legs aside to free them from his touch.

His muffled grunt sounded more like a snicker but he abided
her wish and removed his hand. Rather than stand or move away as she’d hoped,
he reached behind her back and took hold of her wrists. She squeezed her eyes
shut and cringed, expecting him to tighten the bindings ― as if they could get
any tighter. Instead he removed them.

She opened her lids and sluggishly pulled her arms forward.
Her shoulders ached but within seconds the pain subsided. “Am I free to go?”

“No.”

Her eyes broadened. “Then why are you releasing me?”

“Pearl?” He snapped his fingers and a woman adorned in a
tan-colored frock appeared, holding a long leather rope.

Wisteria narrowed her lids at the Barbarian male. “You’re no
better than my people.” Of course he was no better, he was a heartless beast.

He lifted her chin none too lightly. After a long,
heart-stopping moment, he stood and accepted the rope from the female’s
outstretched hand. With a nudge of his head he dismissed her. When she settled
within the group of men he squatted, wrapped the rope around Wisteria’s waist
twice then tied it with an impressive knot. One she’d never successfully
untangle without assistance from a sharp object. “You’ve no right to hold me
against my will.”

“Your will is now mine,” he growled while cutting the
binding around her legs.

She gulped but puffed her chest in pride, hiding her fear.
“You may do whatever you choose to me, but I’ll never succumb to your wishes.”

He grunted and suddenly she realized she’d be safer with the
Mountain Slayers or Flesh Eaters. “I belong to no one,” she added through
clenched teeth. “Do you hear me? No one.”

Birmon stirred and fell off her lap, landing on his back.
Squawking, he kicked his talons and tried flipping over but when his attempts
failed she gave him a little shove with her finger.

At that moment the Barbarian jumped up and yanked Wisteria
to her feet directly in front of his mammoth body. He spun them so his backside
faced his tribe, which completely banished her from their view. Without warning
he grabbed her wrist, holding it in a numbing grip, then quickly slashed the
blade across her inner forearm.

She gasped and held her breath, anticipating the
excruciating pain. But she felt nothing. Not even a dull ache. Reluctantly she
glanced at her arm. No blood. No open wound. He’d barely left a scratch.

She didn’t understand.
Do unto others.
Was the
Barbarian teasing her? Playing with her fear? How far would he take this?

Cautiously she raised her gaze to the black holes in his
headpiece. “You had your chance. Now let me go,” she seethed despite tears
filling her eyes and sobs of relief rising to her throat.

As quickly as he’d grazed the blade across her arm he
slashed it along his own, cutting his flesh. The wound was no longer than her
little finger but it was deep and blood bubbled to the surface. Before she
inhaled her next breath he brought their forearms together, smearing his blood
over her flesh.

A Barbarian’s blood! No!

She’d been victimized in the worst way possible. Regardless
how tiny the scratch on her skin, his blood inevitably seeped inside her body.
It was her clan’s ultimate dread. They loathed the thought of a barbaric
killer’s blood intermixing with their purity because it would alter them
forever. They’d no longer be wholesome. They’d become murderers themselves.
No!
No! No! This can’t happen
.

Nearly panicking, she tried breaking free but his firm grip
tightened around her fragile wrist.

“My blood now binds us.”

“Never,” she shouted. She heaved but had no contents in her
stomach to throw up. How could he do this to her? She’d rather die. She’d
rather he slaughter her or cut off her head. Would she now share the
Barbarian’s savage craving for human sacrifice?

Mercy. Mercy-mercy-mercy!

She relentlessly fought, twisting and turning despite the
strain on her shoulder. To make matters worse she sensed him staring at her
through the never-ending eye sockets. Her stomach knotted. She clenched her
teeth so tightly her jaws ached.

Finally he stepped aside and faced his people, raising her
arm high above her head, displaying the blood. “Grunt’s honor is restored. Let
this night end peacefully.”

Through the uproar of cheerful shouts he released her wrist
long enough to wrap the belly rope around his fingers. With a nudge that
slightly dug the binding into her waist, he guided her to his hut. Being made
of soft leather, the leash didn’t chafe her skin or hurt but being tethered
like an animal did. What a harsh slap to her dignity.

She glanced pleadingly over her shoulder, hoping someone
with a modicum of decency would help her. There she saw Birmon waddling along
their trail.