"Behind us," Whiskey barked.
Shea tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes were hard, and his voice held a steely thread of command.
Shea flinched back as the men unsheathed their weapons. The riders thundered past, leaving the trio untouched.
Shea exhaled shakily. May the mist take her, but she'd thought that was the end.
She nearly swallowed her tongue when she noticed a man had remained behind.
He kicked his horse forward into a slow trot. Stopping next to Shea and Whiskey, he unbuckled the sword attached to the pommel of his saddle.
"You took your sweet time, Fallon."
"One of our party was injured. It slowed us down," Whiskey rumbled from behind Shea.
The man on the horse tossed the sword to Fallon, the whiskey-eyed man, who caught it easily. He released Shea to buckle the sword onto his belt.
"We'd almost given you up for dead." The rider's lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "I could practically hear the clan heads fighting over your successor."
"They'll just have to wait a little longer. I'm sure they have many plans for my demise. It'd be a shame if they never got to put any of them into action."
The rider chuckled.
As the three men conversed among themselves, Shea edged slowly away, trying not to draw attention to herself.
The villagers were no longer a problem, but that didn't mean much, only that she now had to contend with an unknown element with unknown motivations. All this talk of death wasn't giving her a warm, fuzzy feeling.
She froze when Fallon pinned her with his gaze, giving her the full force of his attention. This man was on a whole other level than the one she had saved. That man had been intense but ultimately nonthreatening. This man in front of her was a leader of warriors. Strong. Commanding. Forceful. Used to getting his way.
"I see you didn't escape empty handed," the rider observed, following Fallon's gaze to Shea. "She's pretty."
"And cunning," the other man Shea had saved added. "She rescued us and two idiots from execution. Stole us right out from under the villagers' noses."
"Is that right?" The horse's saddle creaked as the man sat back and turned thoughtful eyes back to Shea.
Fallon ignored this exchange. Whatever he was thinking was hidden behind an unreadable expression.
Shea was very aware of the size of the men in front of her in a way she had not been before. Fallon and the other she had rescued were over a head taller than her, their bodies covered in muscles she suspected were built over years of weapons training and combat.
She took another step backward. She wasn't liking where this was going. A little distance between them seemed like a good idea. You know, just in case.
"I should be going." She tried a smile, but it disappeared almost before it formed. "My people probably need help. Glad you were able to meet up with your men."
She straightened her shoulders and nodded sharply at him, hoping he'd let her pass.
The man on the horse snorted. "Are you planning on keeping her?"
Shea stiffened. Her eyes shot back to Fallon whose face up to then had been closed off, keeping his thoughts hidden. Now it filled with a fierce possessiveness.
"You're not going to let me go are you?" she asked with a sinking feeling.
His eyes held hers as he shook his head once. "No."
"I saved you and your man."
"For which I'm grateful, but that doesn't change the fact that you're mine now."
What did that even mean?
"There are too many of us for you alone to fight, and your men are still hiding," Fallon told her, having guessed the path her thoughts had taken.
Shea's shoulders tightened, and her mouth firmed into a straight line. What he said was true, but she wasn't nearly as helpless as she seemed. She'd wait. Bide her time until she could get away.
"No harm will come to you from our hands, lady," Fallon told her quietly.
That depended on his definition of harm. A man and a woman's ideas on harm often differed.
Victorious shouts echoed off the rock walls as Fallon's men rode into view. That split second of distraction was what Shea had been waiting for.
She sprinted for the nearest canyon wall.
"Don't let her escape," Fallon's friend yelled.
Lucky for her, the wall was formed of hard rock instead of soft dirt.
Praying under her breath, she grabbed two handholds, placed a foot in a small indentation in the rock and started climbing, moving as quickly as she could. Horse hooves pounded nearer as she headed up and up, frantically trying to get out of reach. She placed her foot in a small groove, tightened her grip on the wall and then straightened her leg, stepping up and gaining another foot of height on the canyon wall. Her breath caught as she felt a hand grab her ankle before sliding off as she squirmed up another few inches. There was a loud curse beneath her as she climbed two more feet to relative safety.
It was only when she felt sure she was out of arm reach that she glanced down. Fallon glared up at her from the back of his friend's horse. The original rider slowly sauntered towards them, seemingly amused at the spectacle. Fallon must have dumped the man off his horse to pursue her.
She threw her head back and gave a shout of relief. She'd escaped. She'd won. And boy did it feel good to have outsmarted them.
Still laughing slightly, she glanced down and teased, "Guess you won't be keeping me after all."
At her words, Fallon's scowl disappeared, and his lips tilted slightly upward into a small smile as he relaxed into the saddle. "Guess not." The horse paced in a circle as Shea climbed a few more feet, going carefully now that she couldn't be plucked off the cliff. A fall from this height could maim or kill her. "The world's not that big. Next time you might not be so lucky."
She didn't know what made her do it. Perhaps it was the high from escaping or the rush of being in such a dangerous situation, but Shea was in a bit of a playful mood.
She shot a teasing smile back down at him. "You'll have to catch me first, and I can pretty much guarantee I know these hills better than any of you."
"A challenge," Fallon's friend said, coming up to stand beside him. "Careful, lady. You've thrown the gauntlet down, and Fallon has never backed down from a challenge."
Shea smiled to herself. In this case, he was just going to have to accustom himself to losing. There were few people in this world able to find Shea when she didn't want to be found, and all of them were pathfinders like her.
No, this would be the last Fallon would see of her.
There was a sharp twang. An arrow embedded itself in the rock less than an inch from the hand reaching for her next handhold. Her body jerked back, upsetting her balance. Only the fact that she'd wedged her other hand into a crack and then formed a fist to lock herself in place, prevented her from falling. She dangled high above the ground, her weight supported only by one hand.
"Hold your fire," Fallon shouted. "Do not fire again."
"Who shot that?" Fallon's friend yelled. He strode to his men and pulled the offending party off his horse. "What were you thinking? You could have caused her to fall."
He didn't wait for the man to defend himself, instead jerking the bow out of his hands and shoving him.
Shea placed her feet against the rock face and hugged the wall, taking deep breaths. A fine tremble invaded her limbs.
That had been close.
She shifted slightly, and her heart shot into her throat. She really did not want to move. Not to go up. And definitely not to go down.
Perhaps she could just stay here. It seemed like a nice cliff. The view wasn't great, just ugly brown rocks and dirt, but nice scenery was overrated when compared to life and limb.
She was frozen. Stuck. And being over twenty feet off the ground with half the cliff left to scale was not a good place to be.
She shut her eyes and took a few calming breaths. "You can do this. Quit thinking and just climb. Put one hand over the other and keep going."
Staying put was the worst thing to do right now. It took strength to cling to the side of a cliff, and every second she wasted a little bit more of her strength drained away. She chanced a glance back down. Fallon watched her carefully from the horse, his mouth pressed into a tight line. She looked back up at the distance she had left, took a deep breath and started climbing.
She focused on the task before her, ignoring all other distractions as she edged ever closer to the top. Finally, she rolled onto her back to stare up at the sky. Her arms ached. Her legs ached. Every muscle ached. After the long journey of the past two days, the headlong rush of escape and now the strength needed to make that climb, Shea was tired. She needed a nap.
She poked her head over the side of the cliff and glanced straight at Fallon. He gave her a respectful nod.
Carefully, she backed away from the edge and stood before glancing at the sharp hills and buttes before her. Fallon and the danger he represented fell from her thoughts as she was confronted with the reality in front of her. The Badlands. A place she thought she'd never see again.