“She has no say in it?” I ask in disgust.
“No.
We walk together in silence; I’m trying to process what I just learned. Hearing moving water ahead, the rocks twist around a bend, exposing a small, shimmering waterfall. Water is collecting in a pool nearby before it flows to the edge of the stone, pouring off the ledge, creating another waterfall to the valley floor far below.
“We’ll break here,” Trey says, pulling me along to the water’s edge.
“Is this water safe to wash in?” I ask, eyeing the water suspiciously.
Grinning, Trey pulls off his shirt and runs toward the water, jumping in and disappearing in its depths. Surfacing, he says, “It’s perfect.”
Tentatively, I walk to the edge, dipping my foot in. It’s just cool enough to be refreshing. Easing into the water, I grip the rocks near me, leaning my head back to submerge my hair, rinsing it off. Splashing water on my face, I try to wash the dirt from it using my hands.
Peeking at Trey, he has his back to me, running his hands through his hair. Beads of water are trickling down his skin, flowing over the sleek contours from his broad back to his narrow waist. Feeling heat creep into my cheeks and spread throughout my body, I forget what I’m doing for a second.
“Kricket?” Trey asks, making my eyes shoot to his face as he gazes at me over his shoulder.
“Hmm?” I feel my face flush hotter.
“I asked you if you’re hungry?” he says, looking puzzled.
“Uh…yeah,” I reply, turning and wading out of the water, while running my fingers through my hair to smooth the tangles in it. I’m beginning to feel like a crusty, granola girl. It’s not a look that I favor.
Going to his pack, he returns with his bedroll, spreading it on the ground. He hands me a protein bar. I scowl at him, watching him smile. “What?” he asks before saying, “Jax and Wayra have all the good food. I just have these.”
I sit down next to him on his bedroll. Taking a bite of my protein bar, I can’t help cringing. “You know what I miss?” I ask.
“No,” he replies, lying back with his arm behind his head, chewing.
“Pizza—and not that crappy New York style pizza. No, I’m talking Chicago deep-dish. The kind that’s so thick, it’s impossible to eat more than one piece.”
“Talk to Wayra. He ate a large one of those by himself,” Trey says with a smile.
“Yeah?” I ask, amazed.
“Yeah,” he says softly as I lay back next to him.
Yawning, I eat the rest of my disgusting breakfast and accept the minty leaf from Trey to cleanse the taste from my mouth.
“Is a large pizza as big as an entire venish?” I close my eyes wearily.
“No,” Trey murmurs with a smile in his voice.
“Oh,” I reply before falling asleep with Trey’s warm body next to mine.
CHAPTER 10
TRANSPORT
“Kricket,” a soft whisper breathes in my ear as a masculine cheek grazes mine.
A warm hand strokes my side and I mumble, “Sleepy.” Turning over, I snuggle against him, feeling his chest resting against my back, spooning me.
“I should get hazard pay for this,” Trey groans as he dislodges his arm that’s trapped beneath me. Pulling away from me, he sits up.
“You’re looking alert, sir.” Jax’s voice is full of mirth. Opening my eyes, I see Jax and Wayra standing beside the water, watching Trey and me.
“Took you long enough,” Trey mutters sullenly, not getting up. I sit up next to him, rubbing my eyes and smiling at Jax and Wayra.
“You didn’t get eaten by the saer,” Wayra says, sounding jazzed about it.
“That’s debatable,” Trey replies next to me, frowning.
“You get much sleep, sir?” Jax grins.
“No, something crept into my bones—my blood.”
“Are you sick?” I ask, concerned. His frown deepens, but he doesn’t answer.
“Sir, go walk it off,” Jax says sympathetically. “We’ll feed the little silver-haired siren.”
“Yeah…okay,” Trey mutters, getting up and walking away from us.
“Is he okay?” I ask Jax, completely confused.
“He’s a very healthy male.” Jax comes nearer to me and hands me breakfast.
“Thanks.” I accept a quiche from Jax. “How did you get away from the saers?” I ask and take a bite, watching for Trey to come back.
“The spixes forced us to the opposite side of the field from you,” Wayra says. “We saw you break for the trees! Kricket, that took courage!”
“That wasn’t courage. I was following orders,” I reply.
“You should join the Cavars.” Wayra holds up his wrist horizontally, with his hand balled in a fist, like a weird salute.
Mimicking him and watching him grin, I hear Jax ask Wayra, “Can you imagine her in our regiment?”
Wayra frowns. “On second thought, it’s too dangerous for you, Kricket.”
“Did I just get dishonorably discharged?” I grin and finish my quiche.
“No, you’re just…you know…small.”
“You keep saying that,” I reply, rolling my eyes like he’s crazy.
Snapping branches make us all look toward the trees. “We’ve got Comantre Syndics—units on our eight and thirteen,” Trey says, creeping near us. I stiffen, seeing Wayra and Jax jump to their feet.
Trey heads directly for his gear. He pulls out clothing, and then he shrugs into a long, tunic-style jersey that reaches to his thighs. The fabric is like supple leather in drab green with black inset darts running through the material on either side. As the tunic falls into place, it makes him look like a modern, urban version of a medieval Knights Templar. The hood attached to the tunic is black and it’s sleeker than a medieval cowl, more chic. The sleeves look like a lightweight form of chainmail, hugging the curves of his arms that are protected by more black fabric. His black pants are overlaid with the same type of armor. Trey pushes his hood back and turns to me in an assessing way.
He takes another uniform from his gear and brings it to me saying, “Put this on.”
Wayra and Jax have dressed in uniforms, too. I start to pull it over my head. “No,” Trey orders, “We need to get rid of your human clothes. We’re not giving them any information about our mission. Don’t speak unless I say it’s all right.”
I nod, blushing and turning away from him. Taking off my t-shirt, I hand it to Trey before pulling the tunic on over my head. This one is dove-gray with deep, intricate crimson lines running like darts through the torso of the garment on either side. Soft sleeves that lack armor are attached to it, making it more of a dress uniform than a combat one. The tunic reaches below my knees, making me look waifish.
I unbutton my jeans and step out of them. I toss them to Trey who throws them in the water. They float away and disappear over the edge of the cliff. Pushing and rolling the blousy sleeves, I allow Trey to wrap a crimson scarf around my waist like a belt, cinching the garment to me more securely. Stepping back from me, Trey’s frown deepens.
“Well, that didn’t work,” Wayra says next to him, looking at me critically.