Depths Of Desire XW5 by Ruth D. Kerce Page B

shoulder.
Where was the other one? The caves had turned quiet. Almost too quiet.
    As she strained to hear movement, her
attention returned to the downed Def’mal. He lay motionless on the ground. She
didn’t know if he had hit his head and was out or if he was just disoriented.
Either way, she had no choice now but to finish the job. It was too dangerous
to leave him alive. She pointed the electro-zapper at his head, aiming for his
right pupil as best as she could in the shadows.
    A beam of light hit her, blinding her for a
moment. The second Def’mal! He kicked her hand, sending the weapon flying.
    “Ow!” She lunged forward to tackle her
attacker and managed to knock him on his butt. She heard him curse as he
dropped the light. She scrambled for her weapon but he got to it first.
    “Stand down, woman,” he said. “We are not
here to hurt you.”
    She recognized the voice. It was the
Def’mal who had saved her. He grabbed the light and adjusted the beam until
their whole area lit up in a soft glow. She scooted back against the rocks, now
trapped between him and the body of the other one.
    He sat resting his arms on his knees and
chuckled. “You are a fighter.”
    “I’m a warrior,” she said with pride and
defiance, stiffening her spine. She eyed him warily. His primitive look shook
her confidence and memories. He seemed much more feral than she’d recalled.
    His eyes widened slightly. “Ah, so we
understand each other’s words now. Interesting.” His eyes narrowed as he looked
at his companion. “You did not kill him, did you?”
    She shrugged as she studied him. He was
clad in animal-pelt leggings. No shirt covered his broad chest. His hair hung
low past his muscular shoulders, but appeared clean. Both his chest and face
were shadowed with a sprinkling of hair as were his forearms. Just enough to
make him look wild and dangerous. He wore a pair of boots—a hard-looking
material she didn’t recognize—that were the same color as his leggings.
    He pushed himself to his feet. He nudged
the downed man who groaned and moved slightly. “Wake up.” The Def’mal stared
down at her. “The Egesa are up top. We believe they have come to take over what
is left of the planet.”
    Everything inside Tara wanted to scream out
a protest. What had happened to all the off-world warriors? Certainly someone
remained to fight for their home.
    “I see the thoughts in your eyes, Tara.
Your warriors have not kept your home protected.”
    His words angered her even though they did
mirror her thoughts. If even one warrior remained alive, they would return to
Xylon and fight. If not now, then soon. She believed that with all her heart.
    Loyalty to Xylon was something that a true
warrior never took lightly. But then she thought of all those who had defected
during the uprisings, those who had joined with Daegal as highbred assassins
and hadn’t returned to Xylon when given the chance. What had happened to her
people over the generations? Was it possible that they had been responsible for
their own downfall?
    Laszlo, with all his power, hadn’t even
been able to prevent it. Maybe a new leader was needed. Someone who could
restore Xylon to its former greatness.
    Something in the Def’mal’s eyes changed and
a troubled expression filled his gaze. “You think too much, Tara. You must live
for the moment, for in the end, nobody may be able to save you. Remember,
little one, trust only yourself. Enemies are everywhere.”
    She wondered at his words and their
meaning. He seemed to be referring to more than just the Egesa. Had he known
all of her troubled thoughts or just seen the emotions in her eyes? She used to
be called a cold bitch by subordinates because of her hard exterior and the
ability to hide her emotions. So much had changed. Even she had been altered by
this terrible war.
    He crouched down and peered deep into the
cave. “Now…who has come to rescue you?”
    Tara’s heart clenched. How did he know? She
couldn’t