Free Haven 6 by Aubrie Dionne Page A

The man spit into his face. Leaves hung from the pirate’s hair, brushing against Striver’s neck. But his disguise didn’t fool Striver. He bled just as easily as any man.
    Striver’s muscles bunched under the pressure. The burn stung, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold him back. “It’s for our own good.”
    Now was not the time for a lecture, yet he found himself wanting to educate the man. He spoke through gritted teeth. “You don’t know how dangerous technology can be.”
    It was like talking to the trees.
    The man glared, pressing the blade ever so close to Striver’s neck. “Not for you to decide.”
    He’d shifted enough weight off of Striver’s legs to allow him to move. Striver brought up his knee and kicked the man in the gut. The man’s grip loosened and he fell back. Before he could recover, Striver had already picked up his bow and stood with an arrow tip aimed at the man’s chest.
    The man raised both his arms with a bitter half smile on his face.
    “You win.”
    A horn wailed from the trees. Striver scanned the campsite, keeping his quarry in sight. Lawless writhed underneath reed nets, and Guardians carried pouches of them into the sky, arms and legs sticking out. The few Lawless left retreated into the forest.
    “What was your purpose in coming?” Striver pulled the arrow back farther. The familiar sound of bending reeds whispered in his ear.
    The man turned and ran for the trees, leaves falling from his back. Striver lowered his bow. There was no sense in more pointless death.
    Striver searched for Carven’s familiar head of black-and-silver-streaked curls. If anything had happened to him, he’d never forgive himself. He stepped over bodies, fearing Carven’s blank face lay among the unlucky ones.
    This had all been Striver’s idea. He’d wanted to secure the technology, meet the visitors before the Lawless made the wrong impression. Kicking away blood-spattered leaves, he wondered if going after the scout ship had been a bad idea after all.
    So many dead. He’d have to report their deaths to the colony. Carven’s family flashed through his mind with a pang.
    “Ugly savages, aren’t they?”
    Striver whirled around. Carven stood behind him with blood and grit smeared on his forehead. Striver scoured every inch of the man but didn’t see any wounds. “You’re all right?”
    “Yeah, but this time it came pretty close.” He gestured toward a nick on his arm.
    “Thank goodness for their poor aim.”
    Carven smiled, and then his face grew somber. “We’d better move. They’ll be back in larger numbers.”
    Striver grabbed his arm and whispered, “Did you see Weaver?” He knew the others already blamed his desire to see his brother for their midnight excursion.
    Carven shook his head. “He wasn’t in the group. I’d spot him from a mile away.”
    Striver stifled a rising current of worry. The Lawless wouldn’t kill Weaver; he was too valuable. Still, he couldn’t quell the ripple of doubt that rode through him.
    Two members of his tribe had captured a Lawless woman. She writhed as each man held onto one of her arms. Her hair was a tangle of dreadlocks, mud, and vines. Striver walked up to her and ducked as she spat at him. Her eyes were wild, painted with red and blue concentric circles spanning out across her forehead. She growled in one of the men’s ears. “Go to hell.”
    Striver put a finger under her chin and raised her head to look into her gaze. “What were your orders? Tell us and we’ll let you go.”
    She appraised him up and down, smiling. Her apparent attraction of him made him even angrier, and his jaw tightened.
    “Steal everything.” Her eyebrow arched as she caressed his chest with her eyes. “Kill some, take some as prisoners.”
    One of the men holding her tightened his grip. “That doesn’t help us.”
    Striver put up his hand to stop him. “That’s okay.” He met her gaze again, seeing fiery, uncontrolled emotions. Damn