Nuworld: Claiming Tara (35 page)

When they reached the stairs, the fire had engulfed the
collapsed boxes. The lady tensed, and looked at Tara
desperately. “We can’t die. We’ve come too far. They can
help us, you know. And we can help them. We call them
Lunians, which was my idea. But I don’t know if that’s
what they call themselves.”
“We need something to stamp down the fire before it
takes out the stairs.” Tara looked frantically around them.
The crackling of the rafters and the heat from the floor
let Tara know the structure was ready to collapse. The fire
was closing in. Tara’s skin already was too hot and
wherever her clothes touched her body, increasing pain
distracted her. They had to move, or neither one of them
would make it.
She turned and looked out a broken window by the
staircase. The men below still aimed the lone hose at the
building. Tara spotted the broadshouldered man who’d
been talking to Fleeders. It looked like he pointed at her,
but the thick smoke made it hard to tell.
It was too far down to jump.
“We’ve got to make a run for it,” she said, turning back
to the burning staircase.
“What?” The lady looked terrified and began to shake her
head. “We’ll be killed.”
“There’s no time to discuss it.”
Tara grabbed the lady and threw her over her shoulder.
The lady squirmed in protest, but Tara’s grip was firm. She
dashed down the stairs straight through the flames. Heat
singed her hair and her clothes seemed hotter than the fire.
The stairs cracked and groaned under their weight. Large
popping sounds zapped the air above and beneath them. It
was deafening. Her foot broke through the last stair, and
she pulled with a vengeance to release it from the torn
board. Pain shot up her ankle, her knee, then her thigh
when she finally freed herself from the burning wood. She
grimaced as she put weight on it and limped through the
large open room toward the window where she’d entered.
The woman made the job harder by squirming and kicking
Tara’s thighs.
The ceiling exploded and crashed toward the back of the
building,
making
a deafening sound. Smoke
from the
collapsing
wood
weighed
in around
them,
completely
blinding Tara. The woman she carried screamed loudly,
piercing through Tara’s head. The woman’s body went rigid
with fear, and she made an attempt to jump out of Tara’s
arms. Tara held onto her with one arm and used her other
hand to feel her way down the hallway. She reentered the
small room and ran to the window, her boots crunching
over the broken glass.
“We can get out through this window.” Tara released the
woman. “Hurry! Climb out. The ground is just a few feet
below.”
“You’ve saved my life.” The lady climbed into the open
window and turned to smile at Tara. “I know who you are
now. You are the Northerner I’ve heard about. Do you know
about the Lunians?”
“No, who are they?”
“They are a colony living on the moon.”
Tara froze in disbelief at these words as the lady stuck
her legs out of the window and jumped. Another crash
sounded behind her and she, too, jumped out the window.
Pain shot up Tara’s leg. She fell sideways in response,
and the rest of her body hit the hard ground. She still
wasn’t safe. Using her good foot and both hands, she
moved crablike away from the building to a safe distance.
When she stood, putting the weight of her body on her good
leg, she looked up in time to see the building collapse to
the ground.
The girl she’d rescued was gone. The crowd had
dwindled, and the thick darkness, from the night and the
smoke, made it difficult to see anything. It was impossible
to identify anyone still hovering around the building.
Tara turned and limped in the direction of her bike,
thinking about what she had just heard. That lady had
said something about a colony on the moon. She had called
them Lunians. She said the Neurians had communicated
with them. There was no moon tonight. The sky was low
enough to touch from all the smoke.
She
wanted
to
know
what
communication
had
transpired with these Lunian people. She’d never given
much thought to the moon, although she relied on its light
at night and had enjoyed its beauty. Maybe with a good
viewer she might notice something to indicate a city. Tara
wondered what technology the Neurians possessed that
had allowed them to discover the people living there.
Without
warning,
a hand came
from behind
her,
covering her mouth. Then, someone stuck the end of a
laser into the back of her rib cage.
Tara turned instinctively and tried grabbing it. Her
aggressor was stronger than she was, but didn’t know how
to
fight.
Tara
pulled
the
weapon from his grasp.
Unfortunately, she then placed her weight on her bad foot.
She grimaced in pain and let out a low shriek as she
lunged helplessly to one side, unable to steady herself
before falling to the ground.
The glow from the fire silhouetted the figure standing
over her. The broad-shouldered man with long flowing hair
stood over her.
Still holding the gun in her hand, she aimed it up at him
as she slowly forced herself into a standing position.
“I’m not foolish.” He sounded calm, almost soothing. “It’s
not capable of firing.”
She focused on his Neurian features. His brown skin
was unblemished, and his dark eyes matched the color of
his pupils. His white teeth almost glowed in the darkness.
“I’m aware of your reputation as a warrior, and I had no
doubts you’d be able to unarm me.” His singsong accent
was as distracting as his features. “You have not
disappointed me.”
Tara looked at his weapon in her hand and tossed it
away. Relying on the distraction, she reached for her laser.
The distraction didn’t work.
The man’s grin increased as he pulled another weapon.
It looked like a large laser. “This one, however, will kill.”
“Fine, you win.” Tara held up her hands. “Now what?”
“Can you walk?” The man continued to look straight into
her eyes.
Knowing this to be the perfect way to intimidate an
enemy, Tara returned the gaze. “It depends on how far. If
I’m lucky, I can make it back to my bike.”
“We’ll get you to your babies. First though, you and I are
going to talk.”
With no warning, the man aimed and shot his weapon.
Tara’s world went dark.

tried focusing on her surroundings. The throbbing in her
foot matched the pounding in her head. She lifted her
upper body onto her elbows. Everything around her was
spinning. For a second, Tara had no idea why she lay
there. She searched her brain, trying to remember what
happened before she had laid down. It hurt to concentrate.
Tara didn’t like the sensation of not remembering. She
never blacked out.

Then it came to her. The fire. She had jumped from the
window and hurt her foot. Tara turned her head with effort,
the blurred surroundings making her dizzier, and looked at
her foot. It also appeared a blur. She blinked and allowed
her eyes to focus on nothing while she worked her thoughts
into order. It made no sense why pain in her foot would
make her brain so foggy. And where was she? She needed
to find her bike and get to her children. Tara made an effort
to sit.

She jerked her head toward the voice. Her vision started
returning.
The man who’d shot her sat several feet away in a metal
chair. His features were perfect. Eyes like a starless sky
stared at her. His long lashes almost reached thick black
eyebrows. He had pronounced cheekbones and a long,
straight nose. Tara noticed strands of his long hair were
braided, but otherwise his hair fell free past his shoulders
and behind his back.
His long legs disappeared into boots made of animal
skin that were tied with leather straps just below his
knees. He smiled, and his dark skin showed off his white
teeth.
She noticed her laser sitting on his lap. “Where am I?”
Tara continued her effort to reach a sitting position. Her
head still pounded.
“You’re in my barn.”
Tara moved slowly to the edge of the makeshift bed,
which felt like nothing more than a bench with several
quilts thrown over it. As she shifted her legs over the side,
one foot hit the floor, and she felt incredible pain shoot
upward. When she leaned over to massage it, she noticed it
was bandaged. She grimaced, swiping her hair over her
shoulder. For some reason, her hair seemed longer than it
should be.
“It was a pretty nasty scrape. Our doctor cleaned it up.
He said it would hurt for awhile.”
Tara glanced up at the man.
“Would you like something to eat?”
She shook her head, still dwelling on the pain in her
foot.
He handed her a plate of sliced light-colored meat and a
small vine of grapes.
Although she’d declined his offer, her stomach groaned
loudly in protest,
and she
hated
to
admit
she
was
famished. Reluctantly, Tara accepted the food.
“I figured you’d be pretty hungry. You’ve been asleep for
several days.”
Tara was stuffing one of the slices of meat into her
mouth and had begun to chew eagerly when she heard his
last words. She almost choked when she heard how long
she’d slept. Instantly, she thought of Syra and the babies.
What would Syra have done when she didn’t come home?
Tara immediately feared
the
worse.
There
was no
satisfactory outcome. Andru and Ana would have cried for
her. Syra hadn’t known the children that long. She
wouldn’t have been able to calm them.
“I’ve been asleep for several days?” Tara spat remnants
of meat from her mouth and glared at the man. “How dare
you keep me from my children for that long!”
“You were injured.” The man shrugged.
“What about my children?” Tara raised her voice and felt
the pain increase in her head. She rubbed her hands over
her face trying to understand what was happening. “Why
are you holding me here?”
“Your brother’s daughter has been notified. Your
children are fine.”
The man’s calm demeanor made Tara want to smack
him. “You haven’t answered why you are holding me here,”
she said through clenched teeth. “And why did you keep
me asleep for several days?”
“I don’t run Semore by myself. The fate of all Neurians
must be considered. It’s obviously no secret how your war
has affected us. Northerners are very different…your
beliefs, your priorities—”
“And what do my beliefs and where I come from have to
do with you holding me and keeping me from my family?”
“We have a duty to the Neurian people to ensure their
safety.” The man shrugged again.
Tara slowly stood, testing her foot. She started to put
weight on it, then stopped. While she probably could walk,
she decided it might be best not to let him know that fact.
She was also very aware of her laser in this man’s lap. “You
seem to know more about me than I know about you. Who
are you?”
Dorn Gowsky watched her slim figure as she hobbled a
few feet away from the bed. He knew very little about
Runners, other than they were supposed to be incredible
warriors, and they had helped Gothman defeat the Sea
People. Tara was beautiful, even in her current state. Those
blue eyes…like the color of the sky…and that pale
skin…she was quite the distraction. He’d never seen a
woman like her before, other than in pictures.
She limped slowly, but there was very little sign of
discomfort on her face. He guessed even in her drugged
state, she had enough training to prevent her expression
from betraying emotion. His best approach would be to not
second-guess anything about her, but continue to watch
her and learn.
He’d heard that she’d united two nations and could
claim leadership over both. What power, what beauty! He
wanted to know the type of person capable of mastering
such a feat. She would be intelligent, with negotiating skills
and the
ability to
influence others.
Otherwise,
people
wouldn’t respond to her. From the research he had done
while she had been there, not enough good things could be
said about Tara.
He was definitely attracted to her. But if his plan was to
work, he had to remain true to the role he’d agreed to play.
Crator help him. He hoped he could pull it off.
The council hadn’t accepted his ideas on how to handle
Tara, at first. Finally, he’d decided to keep most of his
decisions about her from the council. They knew she’d
been taken hostage. He’d brought her to them after he’d
shot her. But they didn’t know she was here, at his home.
And they didn’t know how long he’d kept her here. The
council wouldn’t have approved, but he knew he acted with
the Neurians’ best interests at heart. His conscience was
clear.
He’d watched her as she lay under the covers,
unconscious from the drugs. She became his sleeping
beauty. There were nights when her presence haunted his
dreams. He could have had sex with her, and she’d have
never known. But that wasn’t his style. He liked his women
able to enjoy his ability to please them. It would have been
rape, so he hadn’t touched her—except in his dreams.
It had all started when the Runner, Kuro, approached
him.
“You know there is a way to turn around the Neurian
economy,” Kuro had told him one night after they had
enjoyed a fair bit of the Sea People’s opiate wine. “And it
would make you a hero.”
“How’s that?” Gowsky had asked, although he thought
his friend a bit too intoxicated to be taken seriously.
“I grew up in a Runner clan known as the Blood Circle
Clan,” Kuro had told him. “Their leader, Patha, has a
daughter, Tara. She’s a manipulative, hardhearted bitch.
She is Patha’s bastard child, but she managed to lie and
cheat her way into becoming Patha’s heir. She’ll lead all the
clans after Patha dies.”
“And what does she have to do with the Neurian
economy?” Gowsky had no idea why his friend was talking
to him about this.
“She charmed her way into the pants of the Lord of
Gothman and gave him an heir.” Kuro had poured more
wine and leaned back in his chair. “This is where it gets
good, my friend. Tara and
her
children
have
entered
Semore. They are right here in your town.”
“You are talking about the pale woman I saw yesterday?”
Gowsky had been running errands when the young woman
had driven her trailer into town. He had listened while she
asked where she might keep her trailer, and had offered
gold as payment. The woman hadn’t impressed him as cold
hearted or manipulative, and Gowsky thought of himself as
a good judge of character.
“She must be killed, Gowsky.”
“Huh?” Gowsky choked on his wine. “Why does she have
to be killed?”
“Gothman and Runners need oil. Your land is floating
with the stuff. But Tara won’t negotiate for it. Right now,
she is probably devising a plan to take it without the
Neurians knowing. That is how she is, my friend. But with
her out of the way, the Neurians would be able to sell the
oil to a just Runner leader. Your economy would be better
than you’ve ever known.”
“And who would be the new leader?” Gowsky hadn’t
liked the idea of murder, but reestablishing the Neurian
economy was imperative.
Kuro grinned. “Simple my friend. Me.”
Gowsky
pulled
himself
out
of
his reminiscing
and
focused on Tara. “I’m Dorn Gowsky,” he said to her. “How’s
that foot?”
Tara glanced sideways at Gowsky. He watched her as if
determining the answer for himself. That was something
Darius often did. Guilt tugged at her. Noticing this man
was handsome was no crime, so why did she feel odd? She
concentrated on his question and
not how he
looked
physically. “Your doctor’s done a fine job. Please thank him
for me. I would like to check on my children. Am I free to
go?” She knew the answer before she asked it, but decided
to play his game and met his gaze with an innocent smile.
Gowsky smiled back. “Your children are fine. I would
like to ask you some questions, if I may?”
“I’d like to see my children first. It’s important they know
I’m fine. I’ll be more than willing to answer your questions
after I see them. After all, I have nothing to hide from you
or your people.” She took chance and started hobbling to
the door. There was no doubt in her mind he wouldn’t let
her go, but she needed to make sure. If he had questions
for her, he’d better start asking.
“Your children aren’t in Semore anymore. Your trailer
pulled out of here yesterday.”
“You’re a fool!” Tara spun around on Gowsky. The rage
burned in her eyes and her body tensed. She saw the
amused look in his eyes and her anger intensified. “You
better let me contact my family so I can tell them I’m all
right.”
“I might be able to arrange that.” Gowsky stood and
walked over to Tara, took her arm, and calmly but firmly
escorted her back to the bench. “You handle pain well, but
I wouldn’t give that foot too much of a workout too soon.”
She yanked away from him and sat. Once again, her
hair streamed over her shoulder. Lifting several strands in
her hand, she noticed her hair was definitely longer.
Gowsky
dropped
into
the
chair
across from her,
a
serious expression on his face. He stared at her once again.
She glared back. “Go ahead with your questions.”
“Why did you come to Semore?”
“I’ve never been south of the border. I simply wanted to
visit your town.”
“You were looking for a job with our government.”
“I liked it here. Your people have…” She hesitated.
“We have what?”
Tara reminded herself she had nothing to hide. “You
have oil. We need oil. Getting a job with your government
seemed like a good way to convince you to trust me so I
could begin negotiations.”
Gowsky was surprised by her answer. Was it possible
she was telling the truth? He suddenly worried he’d made a
grave mistake. But he didn’t make a mistake. He knew he
hadn’t. There had been so many hours of meditative walks
while praying to Crator. Every morning he’d awakened with
the same thought clear in his head. Keep the Runner here.
He was doing Crator’s will. It wasn’t his place to question
that based on what Tara said to him now. He told himself
her beauty preoccupied him. If she were manipulative, as
Kuro suggested, she might be a very good liar.
“Neurians have had their way of life stripped from them.
Many of our people are without jobs. Regrettably, the dire
situation has made us suspicious.” Gowsky got up and
stuck her laser into the top of his pants. He opened the
door to leave. “I’ll see if we can contact your trailer so you
can talk to your family.”
Tara stared at the door after Gowsky left, hearing the
lock click into place. Cold air rushed her face and Tara
frowned. It felt like it was almost the New Winter outside,
but if Tara understood the climate pattern this far south,
winter shouldn’t be here for another five cycles.
She cuddled into the thick comforters spread over the
bench and observed the dimly lit room. The floor was
nothing more than smooth, packed dirt, and the ceiling
was wooden. There were no windows, although sunshine
peered through the walls, which were just slabs of wood.
Her prison appeared to be a type of shed, yet Gowsky had
said she was in his barn. The Freelanders had barns. They
were very large and animals lived in them. Apparently
Neurians only used theirs to keep people prisoner.
She noticed several different sets of footprints leading
from the door to the bench and back again. It looked as if
she’d had many visitors she slept. She could only imagine
who they might have been.
Tara rubbed her leg above the cloth wrapped around her
foot. Whatever medicine they’d given her was leaving her
body. She lifted her sore foot slowly onto her other leg,
unpinned and unwrapped the bandage. There was a threeinch line of stitches along the side of her foot by her ankle
She studied the injury. There was no bruising and just a
little swelling. As she ran her hand slowly over it, she
noticed something odd. Next to the stitches was a faint
scar, a scar she didn’t remember, and it wasn’t old. How
strange, she thought as she rewrapped the injury and
secured it with the pins.
Standing up was easy enough, but she worried about
how soon she would be able to walk. She tried putting all
her weight on her injured foot but wasn’t successful. Once
she mastered putting weight on her bad foot, she could
kick through the wall with her good one. Her prison was
not that sturdy, but her injuries made escape impossible at
the moment.
She hobbled over to one of the walls and looked through
the slits in the wood. All she saw were dirt yard and two
trees. No other buildings and no roads were visible. She
heard no sounds
of
animals, and no
talking.
Would
Gowsky live outside town by himself? If that were the case,
all she had to do was get out of this dilapidated structure
and overpower one man. Child’s play, if she weren’t
injured.
Had
she
really only
been there
several days? She
thought about the faint scar on her foot. Had she done that
climbing out of the burning building? So, why the new
scar? Was somebody trying to make it seem like she’d been
out of it for days when, in reality, it had been cycles?