the journey through the rest of the mountains was miserable for Marissa and Brace. Both heaved silent sighs of relief when they finally reached the relative warmth of the flatlands.
Each nocte of travel, Brace required less and less of Rodac's assistance. By the time they arrived in the vicinity of Olena, the only remaining signs of his brutal beating were fading yellow bruises and his slightly flattened, still broken nose. If not for the dreams of prison that haunted him each nocte of their journey, Brace would have felt almost back to normal. But those dreams . . .
They set up camp outside the small town in a thick stand of trees and made final plans for entering the Repository. As they talked, Brace busied himself scraping off his beard with a primitive shaving stone.
"There's really no need for all of us to enter the Repository," he said. "You'll stay outside and keep watch, Marissa."
At mention of her name, Marissa jerked her gaze up to Brace's eyes. As she'd watched his dark, dense beard fall away, revealing the clean, square lines of his jaw, she'd found herself pleasantly torn between the beard and the smooth-shaven face. Was there nothing about this male that wasn't fascinating? Marissa wondered, as she struggled to recall what the tall Bellatorian had just said.
Her brow wrinkled. "Keep watch, you say?" She shook her head emphatically. "No. Once we enter the Repository, speed is of the essence. Most guardbots I've come across are not only sneaky, but armed to the teeth. And three going through all that booty will be far quicker than two.
"Besides," Marissa muttered, shooting the Simian a scathing glance, "two pairs of eyes keeping watch on him is far wiser than one. Once he gets his hairy paws on all that loot, I wouldn't put it past him to turn on us."
"He won't turn on us, Marissa," Brace sighed, pausing in the scraping of his upper lip. "He gave his word, and the Simian code"
"of honor is second only to Bellator's," Marissa finished mockingly. "Yes, I know, Ardane, and that's exactly why I want to go along. Now, no more of it. My skills are quite sufficient to the task, and I will accompany you."
Brace shot Rodac a long-suffering look. The Simian merely rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, then resumed his braiding of a long coil of rope from the supply of sturdy funis vine he'd gradually acquired during their journey.
"Have it your way, then," Brace growled in disgust. He resumed his shaving. "You will anyway."
Marissa's chin lifted. "And why not, Ardane. It is i my quest. And that makes me the leader, does it not?"
The shaving stopped and dark eyes glared over at her.
"Well?" she prodded. "Doesn't it?"
"Of course, Domina ," Brace drawled. "Most certainly, and I am but your humble servant."
She snorted in disgust. "And the Crystal Fires will freeze solid before that sol dawns!"
Brace eyed her for a moment more, then laughed. "Be honest, Marissa. You wouldn't like me docile and obedient, and you know it."
Surprise flitted across her face. Then she shook her head.
"You don't know what I like and don't like, Ardane, and that's the way it'll remain. I don't care if you approve of my decisions just as long as you cooperate."
"Yes, Domina."
"Ardane!" Marissa warned, noting the cynical quirk of his mouth.
Brace laughed and resumed his shaving.
He was taunting her again. But that wasn't half as unsettling as Marissa's reluctant admission that he could so easily get to her. Or that she almost enjoyed the tension it produced between them. Angrily she flung the realization aside.
Enjoyed talking and being with a male? It was impossible, insane! Yet a reality nonetheless.
Once again that strange apprehension shivered through Marissa. Her emotions were spiraling out of control, filling her with a hungry, aching need. Though she'd never lain with a male, Marissa recognized the feelings. A need for a malethis male.
It confused her. Marissa was too honest not to admit that. It confused and