The Key Read Online Free Page B

curved her mouth, drying his throat. She put a hand on his chest and reached up, pressing a quick, soft kiss to cheek.
    “For luck.”
    “That’s not much…luck.” Before she could step back, he slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her close. He covered her mouth with his. He only meant to touch and go, but it had been a long time and she tasted good. He felt her shiver and almost respond, before she pushed against his chest.
    Her lashes hid her expression, but a small smile flickered across her mouth.
    He pulled his weapon, activated it and set it to kill.
    “Let’s go.”
    “Right.” She readied her weapon with a snapping sound, pressed the hilt to her shoulder, and put her finger on the trigger. “I’m ready.”
    It was…good to have someone at his back for a change.
    * * * *
    Sara wasn’t sure why she’d kissed his cheek. Maybe to see if he’d flinch back. Dang, the caveman had so not flinched. And he could kiss. Not that she had a lot to compare it to, but it had made her foot pop up. Wasn’t that the universal sign of a toe-curling kiss? She knew hers were still trying to uncurl…
    He looked grubby, but he smelled surprisingly good. Kind of fresh and earthy. Heady stuff for a homely girl.
    Fyn slipped out of the cave first. She shook her head, to clear her thoughts and get focused, then followed him out into what passed for sunlight.
    She wasn’t a botanist, so all she saw was lots of green crap. There were vine things hanging down and lots of exotic looking…crap—buckets of it. She did recognize trees. Big trees. Small trees. And flowers.
    The ground was spongy under foot and cushioned their footsteps, which was a plus. Mostly they moved through foliage so dense, she couldn’t see the sky, but she did catch occasional glimpses. It was blue, but seemed a different shade than on earth, more on the green spectrum, maybe.
    It felt cold in the cave, which one would expect, but she’d thought it would be cooler outside. Instead it grew steadily warmer. It was humid, not surprising so close to water, but it made her glad she wasn’t wearing her zoombag.
    Once Fyn stopped and looked back at her, as if he wasn’t sure she was still there. Maybe he thought she’d be noisy. She grinned. You didn’t grow up in foster care without learning how to be quiet.
    Other than the occasional crackle as one of them brushed past a twig, all Sara heard was the soft buzz of insects until she realized that she could hear the ocean waves hitting the shoreline. Fyn moved more slowly now, stopping often.
    Having his six wasn’t a bad place to be, though Sara made an effort not to study his very fine, leather covered tush, and to stay alert. He moved like a lethal ghost through green shadows and his long legs covered the ground efficiently.
    He stopped suddenly, going into a crouch, his fist raised in the stop and quiet signal. Sara crouched behind him, trying to hear what he’d heard. He raised two fingers and pointed to the left, then pointed to her.
    She did a thumbs up, then remembered she hadn’t told him about that and nodded.
    He signaled three, and pointed in the other direction, then to himself. She nodded again. She eased up next to him and started to slide past him, when he leaned close, his mouth to her ear.
    “I’ll wait until you’re in position.”
    She nodded once more, peered through the foliage, and spotted her two targets. Beyond them she caught a glimpse of water. She was too high to see the beach or her bird. The Dusan had chosen this bluff carefully, clearly hoping to catch her in the crossfire when she returned to her bird—or her people came to find her.
    She inched along the ground, careful to not let even a stray sound give her away. Just above the Dusan position, she found a big bush with a depression under it. She worked her way into it. She should be completely hidden. She couldn’t see Fyn, but she didn’t have to. She just had to see the Dusan well enough to make them go