Frigid water splashed my face. I gasped and sat straight up, dazed. The liquid dribbled down my cheeks. My hands and feet were bound in front of me. This time, I knew where I was; at least, I remembered waking up on a rock and stumbling into the clearing with the asshole and his buddies.

My hands flew to my neck. I didn’t feel anything. I looked down. No blood. He didn’t cut me? I must’ve swooned. How about that? Laughter rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back.

The tall guy and barbarian Santa watched me, brows furrowed.

I licked the water off my lips then looked at the cup in the tall guy’s hand. I stuck out my bound hands and wordlessly demanded it. To my surprise, he relented.

I sipped the remaining water and took in my surroundings. I was still in the clearing, on the ground, by the cave entrance. The squatting men had resumed looking at their machine. The two big guys loomed over me. I scooted backward until my spine pressed against a rock, and we stared each other down.

Santa reached out and grasped my collar, his voice smooth, low and echoey.

“This is the Imani shivat. How did you get it?” Shiv-what? Was that a language fail? Santa seemed much more reasonable than the first guy; he must be Good Cop.

“This?” I grabbed the cuff of the uniform.

He nodded.

“I’m not sure.” Both men gazed at me with raised brows. “I mean it,” I burst out. “I don’t remember how I got out here or why I’m dressed like this.” I motioned to the shivat. “This isn’t me. This isn’t where I’m from. Trust me on this.”

“You are Imani. The Imani are our enemies. You are our enemy. You would kill us if you could.” The tall guy, aka Bad Cop, sounded like a broken record as he stooped and invaded my personal space yet again. His logic seemed unassailable, except for the fact that it was dead wrong. Santa placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t know who these ‘Imani’ are, but I’m human. I don’t know you. I don’t know anything. I just woke up out there.” I jutted my chin and clenched my teeth. My eyes burned. I hated that I cried when I got upset. My daddy always said it was a weakness. Do not cry, Beta.

They studied me. Bad Cop leaned back. Santa whispered something, to which he nodded and continued staring at me.

I breathed fast, my head spinning. I still smelled mint, and it confused me. How could I be attracted to this asshole? Had to be the head injury.

“We do not know you; you wear our enemy’s clothes. We cannot leave you out here. You could report back to the Imani about what you have seen. You will have to come with us.” Bad Cop made a sour face as he said this. The idea appeared to please him about as much as it did me.

He grabbed my arm and yanked me up.

I lurched when he set me on my feet. With my ankles bound, I wouldn’t be able to walk far. We both glanced down at the bonds on my ankles. I wiggled one foot at him jauntily.

The tall guy observed me and my wiggling toes, then bent down and cut the rope.

I stared down at the back of his head. My hand hovered over his hair. I could hit him and run away. Santa was distracted…but that would get me exactly nowhere. They might seem hostile, but they hadn’t hurt me and they could’ve hurt me. Hell, they should’ve hurt me. I wore their enemy’s shivat. Instead, they gave me water, and where we were going held the promise of food and more water. And shelter. I was on an alien freaking planet. Better to be smart. I didn’t know the area, and if I ran, I’d wander around blind. And something was out there. The laughter echoed in my head again, and my fingers shook above his head. For now, it was best to cooperate.

As if sensing my thoughts, Bad Cop looked up at me from under his lashes; a slight smile played on his lips. He knew I was trapped. That annoyed me. I narrowed my eyes, reached out and pulled his hair as if in slow motion. And there went smart.

I couldn’t believe I just did that. I kept my face down and stared at his chest. It wasn’t a bad chest. Smooth. Hairless, corded with muscles. Kind of nice actually. God, Beta, mind out of the gutter. What was wrong with me?

He jerked back in shock. Hah. With a growl, he stood and moved into my personal space. If I turned my head, we’d be at kissing range again. This guy loved to get into my grill. I waited to see his reaction.

An endless moment later, he tossed his hair and started forward with a snarled, “Follow.”

Well, how about that. He let it slide.

When I hesitated, Santa shoved me forward, and I fell to my knees.

The tall guy came back and flashed his eyes at Santa, then watched as I blundered to my feet. We trekked forward, out through the left side of the clearing. Santa and the other men stayed behind. My hands remained bound in front of me. He set a fast pace, and I struggled to keep up. Damn, I need longer legs.

As we walked, the suns sank lower in the sky. Seconds passed into minutes, minutes into eternity. I felt like I’d been walking forever, but it’d only been an hour or two. Hunger twisted my gut. I wondered if the tall guy had any food on him. Given how tight his leathers appeared, probably not. My eyes lingered on his ass. His butt rippled under the smooth fabric. Nice. I jerked my gaze up. My cheeks burned. Focus, Beta, no drooling.

I didn’t know if I could keep up this pace forever.

“Where are we?” He ignored me, so I repeated myself, much louder. “Where are we?”

“We are in the canyon,” he said, each word sounded like I dragged it out of him.

“I can see we’re in a canyon. Where’s this canyon located?”

“In the mountains.”

Is that how it was going to be?

“No shit?” He looked puzzled and before he could elaborate on the lack of excrement, I pushed forward. “What mountains?”

He gave me a strange look. Dude, I told you I wasn’t from here.

“The Adak Mountains.” He paused. “I will not tell you anything more. I will not give you directions to my home that you can pass on to the Imani.”

The Imani again.

“That makes no sense. If the Imani placed me here, they obviously know where you are already,” I pointed out.

His glare blistered me and he walked faster. Damn it.

“Where are we going?” I persisted.

“My home.”

“And where’s your home?” I asked.

“In the canyon.”

Master of the obvious. “Are we close?”

“No.”

A few minutes passed.

“How much longer, do you think?” His silence spoke for itself. “Really, come on, I’m cold and hungry and my feet hurt,” I whined.

“I told you, no more.” He tossed this over his shoulder as he paced even farther ahead of me.

A few more minutes passed.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

Petty of me, I knew, but oh so satisfying. I opened my mouth to start again when my stomach rolled. I bent over and caught my breath. The sick feeling could be the hunger or the head injury. I reached up to touch my neck. Again, when my hand came back, there was no blood and no pain. I looked up. Bad Cop was too far ahead to annoy. It was better that way. The only thing I’d learned so far was the quickest way to piss him off, which I was pretty sure I accomplished just by breathing.

Pretty soon, he was going to be out of sight. I wondered if he realized. Yep. He turned around and gave me a nasty look. Hello to you too. I started walking, a little slower, forcing him to stop and head back every so often.

The shadows lengthened, and the larger sun began to set, its brother close behind. A few spare raindrops hit me. A thunderstorm would just be the cherry on top of my day.

My mind drifted as I tried to recall anything about how I got here. Why couldn’t I remember anything? None of this made sense. Nausea rose. My mom, Sarah. They were fine.

I was so lost in my thoughts I came this close to plowing over Grumpy Gills before I noticed he’d stopped. He scrunched up his face as he gestured for me to precede him.

We turned a corner around yet another bend.

A large, ornate gate loomed ahead. They’d built onto and into the arch that fronted the canyon. Life-like engravings played with the natural color and flow of the stone. They blazed across the surface. One scene detailed a battle; men fought with swords flashing, and ships flew overhead.

Another showed two people holding each other, locked in a kiss, long limbs entwined. A tracing of a cat-like figure—standing upright with an abnormally long tongue—was so real my fingers itched to stroke it. The cat, not the tongue.

“Beautiful.” Picture after picture flowed across the gate. I stepped forward to get a better view, my hands raised to touch, until the scrape of a sword leaving its scabbard caught my attention.

Then I noted two guards standing at attention in front of the arch, next to a small gatehouse built into the wall. A glint caught my eye from one of the barred windows, the reflection off a weapon perhaps?

Bad Cop strutted forward, with me trailing behind. The guards tensed as we got closer; one raised his sword and swung it. The tall guy’s gait didn’t falter. He reached over and grabbed my bound hands, holding them up. “She is not a threat. Let us pass.”

The guards paused then motioned us onward. A runner exited the guardhouse and ran ahead while we continued along the dirt path, through another small grass clearing, and into the city proper.