Pathfinder's Way by T.A. White Page B

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