Bad Moon Rising
by
Autumn Dawn
(c) copyright August 2003 Autumn Beaudreault
Cover art by Jenny Dixon, (c) copyright August 2003
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Chapter 1
Dey leaned against a giant tree and watched the Beasts ride in. There were six of them this time, and all rode hover sleds shaped like animals. The glowing eyes of their fantastical beast-headed helmets made them look alien and dangerous. Dey was one of those who watched them with suspicion. Allowing the Beasts to come in, even for trading day, was a bad idea.
One Beast turned his head to stare at her. A shiver kissed her spine as he continued to watch her. Unwilling to provoke a scene, Dey turned and walked away.
One month later.
Good. The bad moon was rising.
Dey drew in a deep breath, quelling her adrenaline rush into something more malleable. Legend might have it that the bad moon was the undoing of maidens and favored only wild young men, but tonight this moon was going to open a door to untold treasure.
Sweet, wild night air filled her lungs, laden with the scent of blooming swamp plants. The tree she was perched in swayed gently with a mild spring wind, causing its leaves to rustle and whisper. Below her a river, swollen from the winter storms, had cut a new channel dangerously close to the ziggurat on its banks. One day the rushing waters would engulf the ruins entirely and destroy the prize within.
All the more reason for them to steal it first.
"Soon now," her friend Luna whispered. She checked her laser gun one last time.
"The sooner the better." Dey rubbed the chill bumps on her arms vigorously. She hated these nighttime raids, but not enough to give them up. Her part of the booty could be had no other way.
She eyed Luna, thinking that one of them had to be crazy to keep this up. "Creepy old temples."
Luna grinned. "If you think so, why do you come?"
For my maps. To save your silly behind if something goes wrong. "For the thrill, of course."
The shadows on the moon dial of the flat-topped pyramid inched closer to their goal. Only at the full rising of the bad moon, when the parent moons were fast asleep, did the opportunity come to raid this ziggurat. It had taken them weeks of clambering all over the jungle-claimed heap and much careful digging, but they'd uncovered the hieroglyphics and ancient warnings. Thanks to them and Luna's sister's careful research, they'd known what to prepare for.
Dey grinned. Big sister had never intended her research to be used for this.
She glanced at her partner. Moonlight glinted off Luna's blond hair, bleaching it white. Tomb raiding was in Luna's blood. Nothing excited her like stealing a piece of her birthright from those who'd spawned her. It was revenge, and for her it was fun. Had Dey not volunteered to accompany her she would have come alone and risked herself for the thrill.
Not that anything living still haunted these piles of crumbling stone. No, the guardians of these temples had long ago forsaken them for other pastures.
Well, most of them.
A soft chime split the air as moonlight hit full upon the moon dial, reflecting off the silvery fin on top to a precisely placed mirror set in one of the broken columns that had once held the roof. A concealed door slid open. This was it!
Dey jumped out of the tree after Luna, flexing her knees as her boots hit the gritty stone. Laser gun drawn, she watched as Luna drew a thick rod from her tool belt, held it in the doorway and thumbed a release switch. Instantly it telescoped out, jamming the stone door so they wouldn't be trapped inside.
Provided they survived, of course.
The moment they crossed the threshold the door tried to grind shut. The bar quivered, but held. A faint vibration in the delicate bones of Dey's ears warned her of danger as she donned her night vision goggles, stolen from yet another buried site.
Luna needed no such augmentation.
With the utmost caution, they descended the ancient stone staircase, testing their surroundings with senses honed by danger to razor sensitivity. Five steps down, Luna stopped.
"Paranoid little beasties, weren't they?" Dey whispered with graveyard humor. The subtle buzz in the air had increased to a subsonic whine that raised the fine hairs all over her body.
The corridor in front of them remained dark.
Luna took a pebble from her pocket and tossed it into the quiet stairway. Instantly it flashed red and evaporated.
She nodded. "Motion sensitive diffuser beam." She drew a faceted, mirrored ball from the same pocket and tossed it in the hall. "Let's see you eat this," she muttered under her breath. There was a small explosion of white light and a loud, zap!
The ball clunked to the ground, unharmed. Satisfied, she strolled forward, picked it up and stuck it back in her pocket.
Ten steps down, the stairway ended in a black chasm ten feet wide and the width of the passage. On the other side the corridor stretched endlessly, ending in a faint golden glow.
A false end, Dey thought as she watched Luna turn to her left, close her eyes, and feel along the wall. The joining was very smooth, but her sensitive fingertips must have picked up the outline of a door. Further searching revealed the catch.
Luna smiled and drew her gun--Dey's had never left her hand--tensed, hit the release on the door and jumped back.
The panel exploded against the opposing wall with the force of a battering ram, shattering against the stone. Red eyes glowed from inside the swirling dust, just beyond the black square where the door had been. Fear and thrill sped through Dey's veins as the robotic guardian, still for uncounted years, rushed them. They fired. There was a--Pop! Ping! Thwang!--and the beast-headed giant crumpled to the ground, trailing smoke.
Luna stood over it in disgust. "We barely hit the thing, and look! The smoke's not even coming from there."
Dey toed it cautiously. "Huh. Guess not even the ancient Beasts could make a device that lasted forever."
Luna shrugged and sheathed her gun. Eager to get her hands on the unguarded technology of ancient civilizations, she entered the now-lighted passage.
Dey followed more slowly, still alert for danger. According to the ancient warnings the robot had been the last menace, but one never knew. Just beyond the darkened hallway she could see the sealed room she knew was full of weapons and machinery that would bring a pretty price from the collectors in their settlement. Even though none of them chose to fight in the far-off Beast Wars, they were eager to arm in the unlikely event that the conflict was ever brought within the boundaries of their swamps.
Just as Luna's foot landed on the threshold, Dey looked up and yelled. Something huge and heavy dropped down on her from above. Dey fought like a madwoman, kicking and twisting until her teeth found purchase.
"Ow! Little witch," a familiar male voice complained.
Surprised, Dey let go and looked up. "You!"
"Hello, midget." Keg grunted as the little fireball stomped his instep in fury and tried to bite him again. "Glad to see you, too," he grumbled as he spun her around and pinned her to the wall for a quick frisk.
"Get your hands off of me, you goon!" She tried to strike back at him but was foiled when he twisted her arm behind her back, held it in a particularly uncomfortable position and flattened her to the wall.
"Go easy on me, will you?" he asked with as much humor as his exasperation would allow. Who did she think she was? A war goddess? "I'm afraid of pain."
She mumbled something especially uncomplimentary.
He grinned behind her back. "What? I can't hear you with your lips on the wall." She grunted but relaxed enough to show her willingness to cooperate, so he released her arm and patted her down.
"That's not a weapon," she grumbled when his hands brushed impersonally against her small but firm breasts.
"Maybe in the right hands," he murmured appreciatively, then slid his hand inside her bodice to withdraw a tiny grenade. "But I think this is, don't you?"
She shut up, and her sullen silence continued as he relieved her of explosives, her gun and assorted sharp objects. The woman was packing enough for a small army. Her good behavior ended abruptly when his hands brushed over her personal area, strictly as a matter of course. She tried to hit him, but he pressed his palm against her back, keeping her to the wall.
"Relax, little girl," he said soothingly as he slowly eased off and let her turn around. "Just checking for surprises."
Her eyes narrowed behind her blue goggles as she yanked them down around her neck. "There's nothing there that you need to know about, swamp rat."
Keg shook his head and gave her a small, guiding push toward the light. "Trust me, midget, I wouldn't want to know." That wasn't strictly true, of course, but his healthy male interest wouldn't interfere with his job just now. Dey and Luna had been crossing too many lines lately. It was time to put a stop to their adventures before somebody got hurt.
Dey gasped as she caught sight of her friend stretched out on the ground in the lighted chamber, surrounded by Keg's friends. "You didn't kill her, did you?"
Armetris, the man at Luna's side ignored her question and felt for a pulse. His face relaxed, telling Dey that all was well. He scowled at Razzi, the warrior who'd brought her down. "You didn't need to be so rough, you lug. You know her symbiont is just for show."
All eyes turned to the silver wristlets he spoke of. Though they were filigreed in the pattern of the living creature it resembled, they didn't move to heal the slight swelling at the back of Luna's head as a true symbiont would do for its human host.
But then, Luna was a little something more than human.
Unfazed by the criticism, Razzi shrugged his massive shoulders. The movement made the light flash on his own symbiont, the same as they all wore. "I thought the goal was to give her a scare to keep her out of the old temples. Her finds are stirring up too much trouble. I couldn't do that by giving her a long kiss goodnight." His gaze moved to Dey as he spoke.
Keg chuckled, and she glared at him. He could almost read her mind. Anal male humor, he thought as she wrinkled her nose with disgust.
The humor left him as he looked at Luna's unconscious form. This was no light matter.
"Besides," Razzi continued, "had we not disabled the guardian, she might have gotten more than a sore head."
Armetris fingered the hermaphrodite earring in his lobe as he considered the woman lying at his feet.
Keg knew from his cousin's letters that once Luna would have listened had Armetris asked her to stop her activities. For that matter, she would have traveled the length of the swamps by snake-back had she thought it would impress him. The teenage Luna had been an amusing, but lovesick, tagalong; always right behind the young men who'd followed Armetris into danger. As often as they'd shake her, she would show up in the middle of their adventures at the worst possible times. It had come to teaching her a warrior's survival skills or tying her up before they left home, something that would be difficult to explain to her overprotective brother. About the time the slim girl had developed budding breasts and unwittingly caught the interest of two of the young warriors who'd attached to them, Armetris had to forever end her adventures. She hadn't taken well to the exile, but what else could he have done?
The men who had tried to rape her had suffered even worse.
Keg's jaw tightened as he recalled what else his cousin Armetris had told him. Since her exile from 'the boys' Luna had taken to sulking in the swamps for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Even as she'd grown into adulthood, her hostility toward Armetris had not passed. She lived to cause him trouble. Her newest pastime, this technology tomb raiding, had gotten out of hand. Lately all they'd done was chase down and retrieve the things she'd sold to others, hiding them well out of the reach of innocent hands. To give her the credit due her, she'd kept the more damaging items out of the settlement; hiding them away in a yet-to-be-discovered spot. They'd find it. They had to. But first they had to deal with her.
And her man-eating sidekick. He eyed the petite Dey. Early twenties or not, she could still pass for a much younger girl with the pink ribbons woven in her dark hair. Even the slight pout to her full lips whenever Keg was near and the way she looked at him sideways, under her lashes, made her seem younger.
Just now she stood there, arms crossed, pink nails tapping, and a mulish cast to her pretty features. It was ludicrous.
"Whatever moved you to think you could guard her back, midget? One of the spiders crawling through these tombs could wrap you up and have you for a snack."
She bristled. "A spider like you?"
She'd meant it as an insult, but still his lips curved into a provocative smile. "A leading question if ever I heard one. And here I thought you didn't like me." He winked at Razzi, who chuckled.
Dey fluttered her lashes at him, but her expression remained irritable. "How could I not like an overgrown, obnoxious geek with a bad haircut," she eyed his long topknot--really more of a tail--and the cropped hair below his ears, "bad taste in jewelry," she wrinkled her nose at his turquoise earring, "a tattoo he thinks is sexy," she arched a brow at the black thorns circling his biceps, "and poor bathing habits?"
The bathing crack was off the mark and juvenile besides, but he dismissed it as desperation, since it had been a while since they'd traded insults and she was obviously rusty. But still....
He leaned forward and breathed deeply of her own scent, his nose almost touching her neck, relishing her startled exhalation. "Hm. You smell pretty ripe yourself. It's hard to find fresh water in a swamp, isn't it?" It was no more true than her own comment, but it did shut her up.
Armetris came to a decision. "She'll live," he pronounced, slinging Luna over his shoulder as he rose to his feet. Her hands dangled down his back, brushing across his leather jacket as he moved. Razzi trailed along behind.
After gesturing for the still simmering Dey to precede him, Keg fell in behind him, killing the lights in the now empty chamber.
Luna would never find where they'd stashed the hoard now, even if she were dull enough to come back. Not that he could see her braving the backdoor again, not after this. A smile curled his mouth.
So much easier to use the front door, like them.
* * * *
Hunger woke her.
Dey stirred and winced. She was lying on someone's bedroll, at the base of a swamp tree with huge aerial roots, and a rock was poking her in the back. Someone had draped a bug screen over the roots, using them as a tent to protect her and Luna from bites. There was a loud splash to her right as something submerged, confirming their location as still in the lower swamps. By the arc of the moon it was well past midnight, edging toward daybreak.
A fire crackled to her right, and she turned her head to squint at the dark shape beyond it. Razzi glanced at her, then went back to his whittling, ignoring her.
The covers fell to her lap as she sat up. Exhaustion from the night before encouraged her--loudly--to lie back down, but she resisted, patting herself down for the packet of cleansing tissues she kept for moments like these. The gentle pop and hiss of the fire wasn't quiet enough to cover her swearing. Someone had taken her combat vest.
"Having a bad morning?" Keg sat up and tossed off his own bug protection, then reclined on one forearm, watching her. The man had the uncanny ability to wake at the slightest noise, his blue eyes more alert than hers could ever be so early in the morning. Even so, he was human, for his accent--an oddity in a settlement with few new arrivals--betrayed the huskiness of recent sleep.
Sub-human, she grumbled to herself. The blankets slipped down his bare, muscular chest, and in spite of herself she sucked in a breath. No man should look so good that early in the morning, she thought testily. Especially one whom she was determined not to like. Thoroughly put out, she groused, "Where's my gear? I need to find my stuff."
He reached behind him and tossed it to her.
She fumbled in the pockets until she found the tissues, sighing with pleasure as she wiped the grime from her face and hands. Someone had left his canteen by her, so she took a swig, dampening her dry mouth. Then she stood up, placed her hands on her lower back as she gingerly stretched. Her brown pants shifted uncomfortably low on her hips, the lacing loose from her hours of sleep. An itching started on her side just under her bustier as the tight muscles pulled and relaxed. Dey scratched it absently with one hand as the other felt around the back of her neck for the claw she kept on a chain. Every time she slept the thing worked its way to the back, and even that faint pressure felt uncomfortable on her windpipe.
An appreciative growl rumbled from Keg's direction. "Just a little more to your right, if you please."
Dey dropped her arms and scowled at him. His hair had slipped from the leather thong that held it up and now wafted in a silky fall around his shoulders. At the moment he was pretending to leer at her with all the interest of an adolescent.
At least she thought he was shamming.
Disgusted, she flipped her raveling braid out of her way and pulled on her vest and boots. She appropriated the canteen but left the bedroll. It was only a few hours walk back to the settlement from here.
She bent to nudge Luna. "Hey, wake up."
Luna moaned something unintelligible and rolled over.
Exasperated, Dey shook her harder. "Come, on, girl. Get up!"
One green eye cracked open. "Oh, it's you." Her eyes started to drift shut.
Dey whispered, "Unless you want me to leave you here with Armetris and the goon squad, I suggest you wake up."
That did the trick. She wasn't coherent, but Luna was on her feet and moving within seconds.
"Don't you want something to eat?" Keg asked as they turned to walk away. He was kneeling by the fire, checking a skillet that had been left on the coals. Delicious smells wafted from it. Armetris had sat up and was watching them, but made no move to detain anyone. And why should he? He'd already accomplished his goal.
As far as Dey was concerned, they could all wander into a nest-full of water snakes, but the mention of food brought her up short. Her stomach rumbled, encouraging peace. Still, she couldn't let him get away with what he'd done without a single word.
Luna took care of that. Turning slowly, she drawled, "Why not? It's the least you owe me for cracking me over the head and stealing my treasure."
"First finder is keeper," Armetris countered without remorse. "And I'm sorry about your head. Have something to eat and forgive me." Even his apology was a command.
Since it served their purpose, Luna and Dey parked themselves at the fire and gorged on roasted fish stuffed with grain and wild fungi. The food was good, but Dey was starved enough not to care if it had been half-raw and under-seasoned. It was always hard for her to eat in the excitement before a raid, and she'd barely nibbled on her dinner last night. Besides, she had a lot of walking to do today and needed the energy. Slogging through bug-infested bog was hard work.
Finished, the women wiped their hands on their pants and stood up. Already the sun streaked the horizon with crimson and gold. It was time to go.
"Great food," Luna said. "Enjoy your spoils. See you." She was half a dozen steps from camp before anyone could stop her.
Intent upon her goal, she ducked under a tree root, using it for balance as she stepped onto a rotting log that crossed a small stream about two feet down. She managed three steps before the loose bark shot out from under her feet, sending her crashing down in a spread-eagled sprawl, her legs barely straddling the spongy wood underneath. "Ouch!" Her feet splashed in the water, wetting her waterproof boots.
Dey winced and paused with one foot on the log. This didn't seem to be the way to go.
The sympathetic chuckles behind her didn't help Luna's now rotten humor. It took a moment, but she managed to sit upright, then made her way to the end, wincing as she slid off the huge log in a shower of decaying bark.
Dey sighed and prepared to follow. This could be a long day.
They hadn't traveled far when the crashing of large objects through brush alerted Dey that they were being followed.
Determined to ignore their escort, Luna kept her face forward as Armetris pulled up beside her on his symbiont hover cycle. The heated argument that soon ensued had Dey dropping back to give them space. She wanted no part of their private quarrel.
Unfortunately her action put her abreast of Keg's cycle. The creature, a huge version of the symbiont that all their people wore around their forearms, made no noise as it flowed beside her. Only the slapping of brush betrayed its presence.
Well, that and its obnoxious rider.
Keg hadn't bothered with his shirt, had simply tossed his jacket on over his bare chest. "It's a long walk. I could be persuaded to give you a ride back." His voice held no rancor, only a polite desire to help.
At first Dey didn't reply. In spite of herself she'd overheard the argument ahead of her and was busy feeling sympathy for Luna. Luna hated to be reminded that because of her mixed blood the symbionts refused to respond to her. Everyone had a silver cycle, took for granted the ease of transportation the shape-shifting creatures provided. Nor did they require maintenance, for at night the huge creatures hunted and sucked the toxins and impurities that were their sustenance from their prey. Anyone who wanted one could have one on their sixteenth birthday.
As punishment for a semi-serious infraction--some priggling little rule of her protective older brother/guardian--Luna hadn't been allowed to have one until she turned seventeen.
Dey's jaw tightened. That was the day when Luna had first known for sure what she was. The day the great symbionts, like their smaller cousins, had refused to respond to her.
At the moment Dey was equally dependent on inferior transportation, and resorted to walking or riding with someone going the same direction. Her symbiont cycle had disappeared for the season and wouldn't be back until it had divided, the symbiont way of reproduction. At times like this it proved an inconvenience, but it was one she could live with.
Besides, walking was good for a body.
Her train of thought was interrupted as she saw Armetris stop and Luna mount behind him. Surprised, she stopped and stared as the pair took off. Luna must have decided that accepting a ride would get her out of his presence the soonest.
Disconcerted, she propped her hands on her hips and shook her head. Now this was unexpected, and unfortunately it left her with no choice but to do the same. She sighed and eyed her nemesis, who had parked beside her and was watching her expectantly. Considering her perpetually dark mood since the moment she'd met him in the tomb, it was surprising that he bothered being polite. Perhaps it was time to grow up and extend him the same courtesy. "All right. Thank you," she added grudgingly. He smiled at her, and her stomach did a little flip.
Maybe, she thought shakily, maybe there was good reason to remain prickly toward him. The man could be dangerous given half a chance. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself and mounted with one fluid motion. Instead of putting her arms around him, however, she rested them on her thighs.
It was much, much safer that way.
Immediately the symbiont cycle extended tendrils and wrapped them around her feet and calves, webbing her to the bike.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Hang on."
No way. This close contact with him was bad enough. Just the thought of putting her arms around him, no matter how innocently, was enough to skip her heart into double time.
Keg was one fire she had no intention of being roasted by.
"I'm not a novice--you know how often I ride. It's not like you're going to go that fast through the brush, anyway. Just g--oh!"
The bike lurched into abrupt motion, so suddenly she knew he'd done it on purpose. It was either grab him or be tossed around by the motion. Nor did he take a safe, sedate pace through the trees. No, Keg sent his request for speed through his symbiont interface and the bike leaped forward. The pace was thrilling, if dangerous, and it was moments before she realized that she was now plastered against his back. Her hands had skipped entirely over his jacket and were now flat against the solid strength of his hard stomach. Horrors!
The speed was wonderful, but the branch that suddenly whipped her bare arm was not. She flinched.
He immediately slowed the bike and stopped. "I'm sorry." With a frown for the welt on her arm, he stripped off his jacket and tried to hand it to her. "Here. It's warm enough already, and you need this more than I do."
Wear something that still bore his warmth, his scent? Eyes carefully averted from his athletic, naked torso, she tried to refuse. "I don't need it."
"Take it." He extended it impatiently.
She shoved it back. "I don't want it!"
"Lover's quarrel?" Razzi drawled. He had pulled up and was watching them with amusement. He'd tied a blue bandanna over his hair and was eyeing them with a knowing expression. "Or maybe she's just wishing you would take a bath. I wouldn't want to snuggle with a sweaty biker like you, either."
Dey blushed and snatched the jacket out of Keg's hand. This discussion could only go downhill from here. Just as she'd feared, the silky lining of the jacket caressed the bare skin of her arms, cocooned her intimately. It was horrible, almost as bad as sleeping in his bed. Not that she ever had, but she imagined that it--Never mind. Best not to go there.
Frustration made her grind her teeth. "Can we go now?"
"Whatever you want, sweet thing." Content to have his way, Keg swung back around and got them moving--at a roar.
Certain this ride would be the death of her, Dey gripped his waist and held on.
The minute he stopped the cycle near his home, Dey got off and stalked away, still wearing his jacket. He could have dropped her at her door, but he could see Armetris talking with Luna over at the base of her tree house and didn't want to interrupt.
"Hey, sweet thing," he called, causing several heads to turn. Theirs was a small settlement and the neighbors were always curious as to what he was up to. New arrival and all that. "Forget something?" He grinned at Dey's chagrined expression as she looked down and saw she was still wearing his jacket. "Not that you don't look good in my clothes, but people might get the wrong idea about us if I let you keep it." She looked good in an angry blush. He'd have to tease her more often.
"God forbid." She pulled it off and was forced to retrace her steps to hand it to him. "It's not my style, anyway."
Instead of taking the jacket, Keg gripped her wrist just above it. As fun as this bantering was, duty called. Quietly, for her ears only, he told her, "Stay away from the ruins, Dey. They're not for you."
The little kit actually curled her lip at him. "I'm not your woman, jelly-brain, nor any of your business. I'll go where I want, do what I want, and wish you to the bottom of the river if you interfere." Her voice was equally low, but he could tell by her tone it was fury, not caution, that kept it there.
It would take more than wishing to get the job done, but he saw no reason to belabor it. She knew. "All the same," he slid his palm up her inner arm to her elbow, relishing the way her eyes widened in confusion, "You'll stay away."
She twisted her arm away, dropped his jacket in the stone-paved street, and pushed him with the fingertips of one hand, as if he were beneath her touch. "Bite me," she told him sweetly and stalked away.
"I wish," Razzi said wistfully as he eyed her feminine walk.
Keg shot him a look.
"Whaaat?" Razzi raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "Don't tell me you weren't thinking the same thing. Face it, the girl is luscious."
Okay, so he had been thinking it, but he didn't like anyone else pointing it out. "Forget it." He tossed the jacket on the seat of his cycle and retrieved his jumbled gear. They could all do with a bath. In his case, a cold one. "I've got things to do."
Like the majority of the residents of their settlement, Keg lived with Armetris in a tree house as a precaution against the flooding that happened every few years. Unlike the typical set up, though, their house sprawled through the giant branches of a least three trees, connected by a series of clever, enclosed passages constructed to deal with the stresses of wind and battering rain. As interesting as the carved sills and bubbled windows were--Armetris' grandfather had been quite the architect, and had hoped to sire a large family--they paled beside the treasures within.
Keg kicked the door shut. He draped his jacket over the head of an armored, beast-headed statue in the entryway. His gear he dumped on the floor, to be dealt with later. The custom-woven rug was beginning to show its age, but he couldn't summon the indignation over it that his great-aunt would have liked, had she lived. She'd always been over-proud of her heritage, anyway.
A sin that ran in the family. Everywhere he looked the spacious living quarters were dotted with reminders of what he was, what the men in his family stood for. There were tall pottery urns with pictures of beast-headed men and woman working in the fields, inlaid screens with ziggurats and ancient buildings, even broken stone reliefs saved from crumbling ruins, though most of the artwork was new, either commissioned locally or ... gifted.
Armetris was a warrior ambassador, trained both by his father and the culture they represented. As his distant cousin Keg had received the same training, but didn't have the temperament to hammer out trade agreements and settle disputes. He liked it that way. It gave him more time to enjoy life. Not that he'd ever heard Armetris complain.
The day was muggy, and he opened a screened window to let in the breeze. The pretty neighbor girl in the next tree waved, and he blew her a kiss just for fun. She'd taken to watching for him, and far be it from him to disappoint her. Not that he'd take her up on her invitation; her father was far too protective and watchful. He'd made it clear that his daughter was off limits, and Keg chose to respect that.
Besides, he had his eye on a particular girl.
While the majority of the settlements were in the swamp, nearly the whole of the Symbiont People were engaged in war with the Beasts who had dared to reclaim their cities beyond the swamps. This settlement had chosen another way.
Not that their position was officially acknowledged. He snorted as he stripped off his boots, tossed them in the entryway and padded down the hardwood floor towards the bathroom. Oh, their leaders knew well enough what they did and commended the sacrifices his family had made on their behalf, but the common people were only now, in this third generation, beginning to understand.
Some felt fear, even disloyalty. After all, war was the accepted way to deal with Beast encroachment, and any trafficking with them smacked of disloyalty to humans in general. Others had quietly left to join the ranks of those hopelessly wasting themselves on a battle that was all but over. The Beasts were entrenched; there would be no moving them from their reclaimed cities.
For the last forty years, Keg and Armetris' family had traded with the Beasts and prevented their people from breaking the peace truce. Police of a sort, they patrolled the abandoned ruins, making certain that people like Luna didn't dig up old war machines and weapons that might tempt those in the settlement to attack the Beasts, provoking their wrath.
Luna. He stripped out of his pants and tossed them in a corner as he turned on the water. Wavering light from the rippled glass in the windows illuminated a circular tub big enough for two, but the warm water did little to soothe his sensibilities. He scooped up a handful and let it trickle through his fingers, enjoying the lap of the waves against his stomach.
Luna, and by association Dey. He sighed and leaned back against the rim, closing his eyes. So many difficulties wrapped in such a deceptively alluring package. The Beasts would not be pleased with the devices she'd discovered, but they'd controlled the damage thus far. Besides, they were inclined to be lenient with Luna.
After all, she was one of them.
Well, not quite. He sat up and reached for the soap. Luna was only half-Beast; her mother having borne her to an alien lover years after her husband had died. He wasn't privy to all the details, simply knew that Luna's mother had disappeared for a time and returned with a child. She'd died shortly after, and the rumors had died with her. Even now there were very few who understood what Luna was, and those few were inclined to keep it to themselves.
He grimaced and tossed the soap back. Beasts. How much simpler their job would be if the Symbionts knew the truth. The reality was that the Beasts looked very much like anyone else, save for the cultural and physical differences that developed in isolated groups of people. It was their insistence on wearing body armor and depicting themselves in art and history as animal-headed which mislead others. It was true that they were very different in many ways, but not the ones that mattered.
Not that Luna knew any of this. The official position among the parties involved was that her conception was a mistake. The Beasts didn't want her, and it was felt the less she knew of a culture that wouldn't welcome her, the better. Keg and Armetris didn't agree, but so far they'd had no reason to seek her out and challenge the ruling. That could change at any moment.
The water closed over his face as he shut his eyes and slid under the surface.
Heaven help him if it did.
* * * *
"What is this?"
Dey looked up from her own plate, a frown of dismay on her face. Dinner had turned out less than edible, but she'd had other things on her mind. "What?"
"This." Luna stabbed her tined spoon at the brown tuber on her plate. Instead of splitting open to reveal a tender golden center, the spork barely sank into the crunchy exterior. She held it up like an exhibit. "These things are not supposed to crunch, Dey."
She hunched her shoulders defensively. "So throw it back in the pot. It just needs to cook a little longer, that's all."
"And what about this?" Luna stabbed her knife into the gelatinous mass next to the tuber. Clear juices spurted out. River slugs, a local delicacy, were supposed to turn opaque and dense when cooked, not spit back at you when you tried to cut them. "What did you do--have it stare at the pot until it died of fright, dip it in to rinse it off and stick it on our plates?"
Dey snatched up their plates and slid the contents back into the cooking pot, turning up the flame under the tripod as she did so. "Hey, just because you had a bad day doesn't mean you can take it out on me, you know. Save it for Armetris."
Luna sighed and got up from the bar to search the tiny kitchen for something to snack on. "You're right. Sorry. I am in a foul mood."
Amiable now that Luna had apologized, Dey planted one hip on the counter and nodded. The motion sent her pigtails bobbing. "Who can blame you? I'd say he pulled a pretty foul trick on you." She grinned wickedly. "Maybe you should get him back. Slugs in his bed should work."
"Too juvenile." Luna located a bread stick, only a little stale, and munched on it. "And far too nice. I need something that says, 'mess with me and you'll die regretting it'. Slugs won't do it."
Dey took the dessert from the cooler and cut them both a quivering slice, carefully transferring the spur-of-the-moment concoction to plates. She licked a bit off one finger and handed Luna the other plate. Mm. Very edible. "You could drench his bike with stink fungus juice. He wouldn't be able to get near it for a least a month."
Luna perked up. "Go on."
"We could hide rotten meat under his doormat. Or sneak into his house and plant moldy mushrooms in his boots." She smirked as Luna snickered, picturing his expression. Now that would be worth seeing. It was funnier still when she pictured Keg as the victim. She'd have to make certain to doctor his boots, too. She might have only known Armetris' cousin a few weeks, but she clashed with him more each time they met. There was just something unsettling about him, something that turned her into a snapping turtle. "Or we could tell Libya he's back in town."
That wiped the smile off Luna's face. Libya was like the annual race--every man had taken a go at her. As far she knew Armetris--and possibly his friends--were the exception to the rule; a situation that Libya was eager to change. Much as Luna disliked Armetris, the idea of him and Libya was vaguely revolting. "I'm not sure even he deserves that."
"Humph." Dey finished her dessert. "So when are you planning the next raid? I know you won't let his threats stop you. After all, what's he going to do? Spank you?"
Luna shook her head and checked the cook pot. Still not done. "Not yet. I have to check my sister's research first. Somehow I doubt Armetris and his goons got in the same way we did. If there's an easier, alternate entrance, I want to know. Tomorrow I want to take a boat out there and check it out, if you've got time."
Dey sighed and rolled her eyes. "Great. A trip through the swamps. At least it's in the daylight this time." She fiddled with her spork. "You don't think we'll run into Armetris and Keg, do you?"
Luna shrugged. "Might happen." A mischievous look entered her eyes. "But you can always hope. I know how you feel about Keg."
"Him!" Dey's nose wrinkled in disgust as she lightly pushed her. The movement sent her bracelets jangling. "Do I look desperate to you?"
Luna tried to hide her smile, but a smirk pulled at her mouth. "I don't know, he's kind of cute."
"Cute! Is your brain soggy? You know he hits on anything over the age of consent." She hunched her shoulders. "It's hardly a complement to get his attention."
* * * *
"I'm crushed." Keg did his best to look devastated. In truth he was mildly annoyed. No matter what she said now, Dey was attracted to him. Just this morning she'd been classically wary of touching his bare skin. It had been part of the reason he'd teased her so. To be honest, her reluctance had also been rather challenging. It had been a long time since he'd had the chance to pursue a woman, and her virginal manner had been far more arousing than blatant teasing might have been. That she would deny her interest now pricked his vanity.
Armetris uncrossed his arms and shifted his boots from the consul where they'd been propped and dropped them to the floor. He frowned at the device that allowed them to eavesdrop on Luna's plans as if it might convey his warning. "I will not tolerate mushrooms in my boots. And if she thinks to get near my bike...." He switched off the receiver. The women seemed to be done for the night.
They retired to the kitchen, the one room in the house besides their bedrooms that was free of Beast regalia, to scare up some drinks.
Keg was still muttering to himself. "You'd think the girl would be grateful for any attention, with the way the other men ignore her. That's what I get for trying to be nice." He sent Armetris a disgusted look. "It's not as if I ever made a move on her." Nor would he have to. Women, for whatever reason, had always found Keg irresistible. And Dey, well....
It wasn't as if she were ugly. If asked, most men would agree that she was passably attractive. Nor was she too-stupid-to-live or mean spirited. It was just that she was different. A contradiction. The woman walked around armed and followed Luna on her crazy quests, yet wore ultra-feminine pink and had a walk that could raise the dead. With all the mixed signals she was sending it was no wonder men hesitated to approach her.
"Forget her." Armetris handed Keg a chilled beverage. He took a kitchen chair, spun it backwards, and sat. "What we need is a better way to keep track of Luna's movements. I hate this eavesdropping on private conversations. Half the time we learn nothing useful, and the other half just provokes us." The bug had been installed just recently, and he'd been almost to the point of removing it before he'd overheard Luna's plans for the last raid.
Keg eyed him thoughtfully. "You could court her." He held up a hand when Armetris gave him an incredulous look. "Hear me out. It might be the only way to make an impression on her. Like she said, there's not much you can do to her as is--just get in her way when she tries to make a raid, or run damage control when she succeeds, which is way too often. But as her man...." He smiled a little, captivated with his fledgling idea. "There you have possibilities."
Armetris opened his mouth as if to retort, but didn't. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea. After everything that's happened between us, if I move in now the entire settlement, Luna included, will think it's serious. I'm just not ready to suffer puppy-love again."
Keg snorted. "I doubt it will be a problem. In fact, I'd bet my symbiont she'd slap your face if you were to try anything. She's a grouch." A grouch they had to find a way to neutralize. Could it be done without compromising Armetris' principals? "What if...." he said, thinking aloud, "you simply showed her how to have fun without raiding tombs? Surely part of her problem is too much time to nurse her grudges?"
The skeptical look on Armetris' face wasn't encouraging. "And how will I do this without encouraging a crush? You know how women are."
Keg cocked his head. "Do you have a better idea?"
GHOST IN MY HEART
By
Autumn Dawn
© copyright by Autumn Beaudrealt, March 2005
Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright March 2005
ISBN 1-58608-356-2
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter 1
"The situation is getting grim, Dagon."
Dagon turned his back on the fire streaked sky. The night breeze ruffled his short dark hair, caressing his damaged cheek with a lover's promise.
Pity it was the only lover he was likely to have in his lifetime.
Not that he wanted a wife. Unfortunately, to get what he did want, a wife was required.
"And you expect me to do what, Ser? Conjure more women from vapor? Personally impregnate our few surviving women with female babes?" His hands curled around the stone balcony rail. It was as unforgiving as their future. Even if the women who'd survived their enemy's virus managed to conceive--a feat in itself--none of them ever dropped girl children. If by some miracle all of them gave birth the next day to twin girls, there still wouldn't be enough women to go around, and those babes would take years to mature.
Ironically, they couldn't even steal women from their enemy, for the virus had infected their women as well, devastating their population. It looked as if their generation's long war was going to end in total destruction.
The double moons cast a pale light over Dagon's scarred face. The shiny acid burn ran in a narrow, long streak from his left eye and curved behind his ear. The arc looked like whimsical silver paint, but there was nothing smiling in Dagon's manner as he listened to his friend Ser's arguments.
"We find women or we die out. I, for one, am not willing to give up hope." Ser leaned forward as he argued, intent on winning.
Oil torches sprang to life as their companions lit the darkness. There were more than a dozen warriors gathered that night; grim veterans desperately seeking some hope for the future.
"What of the tunnels?" an older man asked.
"What would we do with them?" Dagon countered. "Our enemies have the same problem as we do. Their women will be of no use to us." The tunnels had been useful for teleporting into their unsuspecting enemy's territory in lightning-fast strikes. Unfortunately they had developed counter-technology and the tunnels had fallen into disuse. He couldn't see how they'd be any use now.
"There were rumors," the man, Xcallion, said slowly. "That the tunnels had been used to explore other worlds. Worlds with no lack of women. Compatible women, who could breed daughters."
Silence met his words. No one wanted to speak of their sudden hope.
"I've been there; to a place called Earth," Xcallion went on. "We were not allowed to talk about it, but I saw the women. Some of them were very beautiful."
The lone female among them, an aged, revered lady called Ellyn, spoke up. "If you speak the truth, Xcallion, and you go after these women, as I'm sure many of you are already thinking of doing, you must find a way to do it without causing more pain than must be."
Still stunned by the idea of available women, a whole world's worth, Dagon demanded, "What do you mean?" He wanted to find the tunnels tonight and see these women for himself. Perhaps choose a dozen.
"Some of these women will have families, friends, perhaps even husbands or children. You need some way of discovering which are free to come. You can not make them leave their husbands or babies."
There was a general murmur of agreement.
Dagon nodded. The laws of their world decreed a slow, painful death to a man who stole someone else's woman. Besides, he wanted a woman who was eager for his touch, not wasting her energy pining for another. She'd need all her energy just to keep pace with him. "We need a trap."
"You are not hunting, Dagon," Ellyn said sharply.
"Oh, but we are. For young, lusty alien women. It will be one of the finest hunts of our lives."
Male laughter and appreciative murmuring accompanied that. Already they felt hope.
It had been a long time since Dagon had felt hope.
Heated arguing about the best way to get the women broke out. Finally they decided to send out scouts. Once they had more information they would act.
* * * *
"I've said it before, Ser. I don't think women are going to be attracted to something like this." He would have overruled the council's decision if he'd had a better idea.
They'd remained behind in the new Earth based command center after everyone else had left, arguing over details. There was still a lot of work to be done in preparing the site, but the workers were eager. Already letters of invitation had been sent out to selected marks. The women would begin arriving very soon.
Nothing about the coming project made Dagon feel easy.
Ser glanced up from his plans. "I agree. Unfortunately the elders have gotten involved. They looked at the information and decided that the best way to screen women was to pose as a military-type academy offering incredible incentives. 'Dreams come true', as they put it. A woman wants to own a home, we offer to make it possible. She wants education, we promise it."
"Empty promises," Dagon said with a frown.
"No, they'll just take place in a different manner and on a different world than they anticipate."
Dagon grinned. "True. But why the pretense at being a military academy? What if only brawny, ugly women apply?"
"We'll screen them," Ser said quickly, obviously disturbed by the idea himself. No one wanted an ugly wife. "And the military ruse will give us a chance to give them medical examinations. We don't want anyone with disease. A few days of calling you 'sir' will also train your woman to automatically look to you for authority."
"You hope," Dagon muttered, arms crossed. He'd seen the attitude of some of these Earth females in the two months they'd been hunting. He was used to protecting women, treating them with consideration. These Earth women almost demanded a man take them in hand before they would give him any measure of respect.
On the other hand, these American girls were also quite relaxed in their morals. Remembered temptation heated his blood. He was surprised at himself. One would think that he'd have jumped at the chance to revel in the beds of the many women who'd offered themselves since he'd been here. Unfortunately he found himself strangely reticent. He could kiss them, caress their soft and eager bodies, but always something would stop him long before the final act. Maybe it was disgust at himself, the woman's easy virtue … who knew? He only knew that once a woman started snaking her hands under his shirt, he had to disengage. Often to her loud protests and even curses.
Most likely it was his religious training that was hard to break free of. It was easy to follow the credo of chastity outside of marriage when there were no women to sin with. A part of him had always looked askance at the rule, and he'd wondered how he'd feel if the opportunity to sin arose. Well, now he knew. Some virtuous piece of him had survived the years of vicious warring and was set on having a woman of his own to claim and defend, and forget the hard won lessons of deceitful women and politics. That part of him was like a starry eyed, smooth-skinned choir boy, and would take more effort to smash than it was worth, considering that he was about to have the pick of their captives in a matter of weeks. He was a man. He could wait that long.
At least he didn't have to worry about pleasing a woman. That niggling worry had been completely burnt out. Now he just had to find one that wasn't eager to share herself with any likely male who wandered by.
Papers shuffled as Ser slid a folder out of the haphazard pile on his desk. He handed it to Dagon, an amused gleam in his eye. "By the way, we've finished our list of those in charge of physical training. Your name is on it. As program 'director' we decided it would be expected."
Tension gripped him as he looked at the list. "The only training I know is the hard kind, Ser. These women will not appreciate it. How will I find a wife when they will all hate me?"
Unperturbed, Ser sent him a sly grin. "You're clever. You'll think of something. Besides, it will keep them occupied while we gather all the women. It will only be for a few days, but we don't want to miss any of the women who are delayed."
They couldn't afford to. Once the women started disappearing, the Earth authorities were bound to get suspicious. They expected nearly a thousand women to arrive--an ambitious number. It would take a great deal of manpower to handle them, but the volunteers were more than eager to do so. If they could get two more groups of that size in, they would have enough women for the remnants of their population. Barely. The youth of the next generation might have to import their own wives in a few years, at least until the female babes of the Earth women grew up. Thanks to their science, they would be able to assure the sex of the children. They couldn't afford not to be selective.
Dagon closed his eyes at the nebulous image of the woman who would be his. Very soon, he would slake this endless hunger. Soon, the loneliness would end. The hope of future generations rested on him getting her pregnant as soon as possible.
Anticipation made his blood race, his head light. He couldn't wait to do his part.
* * * *
"Girl, you need a new hobby."
HelVana Clue looked up from her microscope and blinked as her eyes adjusted. "This isn't a hobby, Kelsa. It's my job."
Her roommate splayed one hand on her workshop counter and peered at her microscope slide. "How can you sit and stare at bug guts all day? Look at this poor guy. He's spread out and pinned down like some sort of sadistic sex experiment."
Her clipboard made a poor shield, but Vana grabbed it and jotted down a few notes anyway. "I study microbes, insects, and lower life forms," she said in her best 'you are not going to get to me' tone.
"Bugs, girl. You study bugs." She grimaced. "Do you know how hard it is to fix you up with anyone decent with a hobby like yours? And don't call it a job. You've yet to get a paycheck from it."
Annoyed, she tossed aside the clipboard. "As if I'm dying for a date with one of your weird friends. Thanks for the thought, Kelsa, but no thanks. That last guy had a pierced nipple."
"He showed you?" Kelsa asked with a naughty grin.
Vana grimaced. "Unfortunately. It blended in well with his bleeding skull tattoo."
"Yeah, but could he kiss or what?"
"Why are you pestering me?" Vana asked, dodging the question. Of course she hadn't kissed the guy, especially not after he'd wiggled his pierced tongue at her. Thank God they'd been on a double date. She'd hate to think what he'd have been like if they'd been alone.
She braced her feet on the bottom of her stool and scowled at Kelsa. "For that matter, you usually knock before you invite yourself into my lab."
"That's because I never know what might be running around. Remember that two foot centipede that chased me that time?" She shuddered. Even her short blond locks seemed to quiver.
Vana grinned. That little breeding experiment couldn't have gone better. Chasing her hyper roomie around had been a perk. "Millipede."
"Whatever. This came for you today." She took an envelope out of her backpack, handed it to Vana and waited expectantly.
It was from the recruitment department of Dagon Academy, Science Division.
Hands shaking, Vana took a deep breath to calm herself. This was it. Her one chance at greatness. With luck all her years of study in a much denigrated branch of science were about to be rewarded.
She tore open the envelope, scanned the contents, and then squealed.
Alarmed, Kelsa straightened, ready for action. "What is it?"
"Yes! I did it!" She did a little victory dance and pumped her arm in the air. "Yes, yes, YES!"
As if afraid she'd lost a few screws, Kelsa sent her an odd look and quickly snatched the letter away. Her expression turned skeptical. "You're not seriously thinking of going."
Vana shot an incredulous look at her for that stupid remark. "If you think I'm giving up a once in a lifetime chance to further my education while paying it off, you're sadly mistaken. All I have to do is get accepted and they pay off my loans. It's like an army thing."
A pen flipped rapidly between Kelsa's fingers as she cocked her head. "I don't know about those military types. They're all a horny bunch. I say, 'trust them with your hide, but not your virtue'."
Vana's mouth dropped open. "My what?"
Kelsa slashed a hand through the air. "You never date. I'm your all knowing roommate, remember? It's my job to keep creeps away from you."
"Creeps like your friends? Might I remind you of Eric the Irritating? King of the Arm Pit Noises?" Vana batted her eyes rapidly in a way that said she was really something special. "And you don't have to worry. My virtue is perfectly safe. Besides, you're just annoyed that you won't be able to keep tabs on every little detail of my love life."
"Maybe, but I still can't picture you in army green. You hate to get up earlier than eight in the morning. How do you plan to stay awake when they get you up at five am to run?"
"It's a mission, not combat. I don't see why you're so worried--it's not like I'll be running around in combat boots with a gun."
* * * *
"Oh no, oh no, aw … nuts!" Vana whimpered in frustration and leaned her throbbing head against the steering wheel. It figured that the only spur of the moment trip she'd ever taken would end with her car dying on a deserted back road in the middle of nowhere. It was late, though the Alaskan midnight sun didn't know it. The prospect of sleeping in her car made her reach for her recycled water bottle and dig a painkiller out of her purse.
No phone, no money, no car. The phrase thrummed through her skull as if set to bass. She got out of the car and looked around. Kicked her tire for good measure. Not a 7-Eleven from horizon to horizon. What had possessed her to leave Anchorage?
The sound of a motorcycle downshifting brought her out of her reverie. Stiff and wary, she stared at the black helmeted man who pulled up like some dark knight sent to rescue her. Or something worse. Where had he come from?
"Trouble?"
I don't know, are you? She bit her lip, wondering about his smoky, rough accent. She'd never heard anything like it. "My car broke down. You wouldn't happen to have a cell phone, would you?" she asked hopefully. It would end the dilemma of whether or not she would have to accept a ride from a complete stranger ... if he offered.
He shook his head and removed his helmet. Vana stared. Oh, he was trouble all right. From his short dark hair to his ice blue eyes, it was written all over his handsome face. It took just a touch of five o'clock shadow and--was that an earring?--to tilt him into the dangerous category.
Spank me, a naughty part of her whispered.
Shut up! Vana hissed back. He could be a mass murderer for all we know.
She stepped back as he got off the bike. The black leather of his jacket creaked. My, he was tall. And built. She swallowed.
Although he wore a black leather jacket, she could tell by the fit of his jeans that the man worked out. And when he popped her hood and bent over….
She looked away and searched for something to say. "Um, do you think you can fix it?"
He looked at her in disbelief. "Who's your mechanic?" He gestured to the guts of her car. "This looks like a kid threw it together out of scrap parts."
A cool fall breeze kicked up and she hugged herself. Irritated at his attitude and the situation, she kicked at a rock. "I bought it from a neighbor kid." The kid had needed the money, and she'd liked the restored old vehicle. At the time it had been all she could afford.
The hood slammed shut. "Well, you can't stay here." He looked at her as if judging her caliber. "Are you going to stay here or take a chance with me?" A tilt of his head indicated the bike.
"I…." She let out a frustrated breath. It was either go with him or wait around for another stranger. "Okay. Thank you," she said reluctantly. After all, he was being helpful. "Let me just get my back pack." There was no point in grabbing her duffle bag, since it was loaded with more books and stuff than could ever fit on his bike, so she nabbed her pack with her essentials and locked her doors.
"Hop on." He made room for her on the seat as she gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder and threw a leg over. He handed her the helmet. "Stick your hands in my pockets if they get cold," he told her, and started the engine.
Vana swallowed hard. Uh, no, she thought. She'd have to be mighty chilly to do such an intimate thing. It was hard enough to grasp his waist and not think about how close they were on the bike. Nothing like that had ever happened to her. Handsome men didn't get close to her. Neither did anyone else.
The helmet was too big. Worse, it smelled like his aftershave. The intoxicating scent of man and male teased her nose. Eyes closed, she inhaled the rich musk as the pavement whizzed by.
She just hoped she didn't make an idiot of herself before the night was done.
* * * *
Dagon couldn't believe the woman. She drove out of the city with a light jacket in a rickety car, and then told a total stranger that she had nobody near to help her. Had survival instincts been totally bred out of Earth women, or was she just that flustered?
Lucky for her he had been returning from a scouting mission and had seen her car, recognized her from her dossier. He would have helped any woman, and definitely one slated to become a warrior's wife. Not his wife, though.
He'd hope for one with more survival instincts.
She was pretty. All of the applicants were attractive, or could be with a little help. Sleek brown hair waved down her back, stopping about midway. Grey-green eyes bright with interest had looked him over warily. Very well, perhaps she wasn't unaware of the danger, just optimistic that he would help and not harm her.
He hadn't missed the way she'd stared. The look had affected him, made him feel hopeful that he could attract a wife, though that could change when he washed the makeup off his scar. It had also roused in him the hunger that was never far below the surface.
She looked too good in jeans and her clingy knit top.
He shook his head sharply and gunned the throttle, making her hold tighter. Maybe the wind would wash away this feeling.
The hunger was what made the men of his generation so wild in battle. They'd had no women, no hope of finding a mate in their lifetimes. The hunger had grown, made them reckless, impossibly dangerous in combat. With no women to distract him, Dagon had spent many hours honing his fighting skills, hardening his body. Only the pain of constant, furious work had kept the despair at bay. The need.
And now he had a living, breathing woman holding him in her arms….The hunger stirred.
* * * *
It only took half an hour to reach a tiny village with a bar and a hotel. Since everything else was closed he parked the bike and led her into the bar. A few customers glanced their way as they entered the dim joint, and then went back to their beer and conversations. The smell of sizzling steaks made his stomach rumble with the promise of dinner. He fervently hoped the grill was still open as he escorted her past the pool tables to the pay phone. She dialed while he made use of the restroom.
She smiled a little when he came out. "I called the academy and told them I'd be a little late. They sent a tow truck to get my car, and someone to pick me up, but he won't be here until early the next morning." She glanced around the bar and tried not to look chagrined.
"The academy?" he asked, pretending he didn't know who she was and what she was up to. "That wouldn't be the Dagon Academy, would it?"
She blinked. "You've heard of it?"
With a wicked grin, he took her hand, kissed it. "Dagon T'Siantal. No relation to the founder," he lied. "I'm one of the instructors there. I'd be happy to escort you up."
A little breathless, she drew her hand back. It was definitely not a good idea to spend too much time in this guy's company. She was sure to trip over her tongue and embarrass herself. "Er, as I said, they're sending someone, but thank you."
A devilish light still twinkled in his eyes when he looked at her. "I'll keep an eye on you until he gets here."
A little wary, she stared at him. "Will you?"
He blinked at her slowly, like a cat.
There was something about that look. More than a little unsettled by the evening's events, she turned her back on him, moved to the bar and studied the billboard menu. No way could she order a steak. She had just enough money to pay for a glass of water. Maybe.
Dagon claimed the stool next to her. "Order whatever you like," he said. "My treat."
"I really shouldn't," she started to protest, chagrined. She'd have felt even worse if he'd known just how little money she had. It had been one reason she'd leapt at the chance the academy offered. She'd worked hard in college, held two jobs so she wouldn't have a loan to repay. Until the day she'd collapsed at her night job with a bad case of pneumonia and exhaustion, she'd been doing fine. Unfortunately, that incident had seriously drained her reserves, both of time and health. She'd been about two days from being evicted when the academy had accepted her.
When she hesitated, he flashed the waitress a smile and said, "Hi. She'd like the steak, potato and slaw, please. The same for me." He tossed some bills on the counter.
"Anything for you, sugar," the waitress said, giving him the once-over. Her hips wiggled as she walked away.
Vana rolled her eyes at the waitress's antics, but said, "Thank you," to Dagon. Accepting his generosity made her feel shy, so she lowered her eyes, traced the grain in bar to avoid his gaze.
Every detail of her history was known to Dagon, for they'd researched the "applicants" carefully. He could guess what emotions kept her eyes nailed to the bar. It displeased him that a woman could be left alone to fend for herself the way she had been. With no family or friends who would help, she'd been forced to care for herself since the death of her mother at seventeen. The father had left a long time before that.
The knowledge burned him. She--and the others like her--would be much better off with the men of his world.
He finished eating first and left to speak to the barkeeper about a room. He was frowning when he returned. "They've only got one room, and the hotel is full up. I checked."
Vana narrowed her eyes at him.
The waitress perked up. "If that's a problem I know of a free bed." She looked straight at Dagon as she purred it, completely ignoring Vana. If she had bent over the bar any farther she might have fallen out of her low-cut shirt. Her red nails traced a lazy, suggestive circle on the bar.
"I don't mind," Vana said sardonically. No one was listening to her.
A single, hard glance from Dagon sent the woman scurrying off. "I'll sleep outside the door," he said to Vana. His look brooked no argument.
At once she felt guilty, but not guilty enough to take a chance on letting him in her room--that was, if she had been about to accept one. Unfortunately…. "I can't afford a room tonight. I'd expected to be at the Academy already."
"The bar closes at one a.m.," he said with implacable logic. "Nothing else is open tonight, which would leave you wandering around in the cold until dawn. Do you really think I'm going to allow you to do that?"
She'd been too tired to consider those obstacles, ought to have been grateful for his thoughtfulness. Instead he got a grumpy nod of acknowledgement. Too weary to ponder it further, she said, "Fine," and followed him up the rickety stairs.
The room wasn't much to see. It had a bed, tiny bathroom and a battered dresser. One streaked window looked out at the motel sign. Vana eyed the full size bed and the floor doubtfully. There was barely room to swing the door open. If she had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night she'd step on him. It was just as well he was sleeping outside.
The waitress cleared her throat and handed a bundle of worn quilts and a lumpy pillow to Dagon. She left without making eye contact.
"You made a friend," Vana observed as she tossed her pack on the bed.
He shrugged. "I'm not likely to desire a woman that … blatant. I prefer a woman who beds only one man--me." He tossed the blankets on the floor, making a makeshift mattress.
A hot flush made her duck her head as she sat on the bed. The man was blunt. And disciplined. There weren't many guys she knew who'd turn down easy sex in this day and age. She eyed him discreetly as she kicked off her shoes. A discriminating stranger who turned down a warm bed to sleep outside her door. There was something gallant about that, and very sexy, in an old fashioned kind of way. How many guys would do something like that?
She tossed her jacket over the foot of the bed and crawled under the covers. It was chilly in here. At least she wasn't the one on the floor. Guilt made her wince. But what could she do? She wasn't about to invite him into the bed.
She just hoped he wasn't going to hold it against her when she had to take his class.
* * * *
Vana woke up from a dream involving a pair of ice blue eyes and knowing male hands. It faded as her eyes opened, leaving her unsure of the details but uncomfortably curious about their cause.
'The cause' leaned against the doorframe, watching her wake.
"Do you always sleep this hard?" he asked. He didn't seem to mind. Those sensual blue eyes of his moved over her with warm appraisal.
Finger combing her hair out of the way, knowing she must look a mess, she grumbled, "Usually. I hate mornings."
White teeth flashed in a bright smile. "You need a reason to get up, then. If I buy you breakfast, will it cheer you?"
"Only if it's a loan. I owe you too much already."
There went that smile again. The man really was enjoying himself, though how he managed at this early hour was beyond her.
As she passed through the doorway, she was reminded where he'd spent the night. Now that she had some sleep behind her, the reason why was obvious, and she was impressed by his integrity. Not that she would have given him a chance to do otherwise, of course. He was married. Probably had several kids. She glanced at him and unconsciously sighed. "Your wife would be thrilled to know what a nice guy you are."
His brows drew together in puzzlement. "I'm not married."
He wasn't? Suddenly she felt perkier. "Oh. I just thought…." Embarrassed, she let the words trail off. She didn't want him to feel as if his chivalry was in question.
As if he could read her mind, he snorted in amusement. "You're too used to Earth men. Earthy-men, that is," he hastily corrected himself, glancing at her. "Grown-up boys with no discipline, no morals. You'll appreciate the difference at the academy."
She hoped she would. Already she was nervous. Still, if Dagon were a sample of the kind of men she would meet … maybe sending in that application was one of the best ideas of her life.
* * * *
As the tow truck pulled up at the academy, Vana grabbed her bag. Halfway out the truck's door, she froze. Dagon's motorcycle had hardly rolled to a stop when a man dressed in a black uniform came running out. Dagon pulled off his helmet, listening intently to the man's words. Although she couldn't understand the language the man used, his body language told her that whatever he had to say was urgent. Dagon confirmed it when he swung one long leg over his bike and moved swiftly to her side.
"Hurry," he said, taking her bag. He caught her hand and helped her leap down from the jacked up truck, slamming the door behind her. Without explanation, he towed her off at a lope.
"What's wrong?" she gasped, barely able to keep up.
"We have a problem," was all he would say as he ran toward the academy. The building itself was a handsome brick structure with two wings off each side. At another time she would have enjoyed studying the lawn and gardens surrounding it. Just then it was all she could do to keep from tripping as they joined the stream of people rushing up the stairs.
Another car careened around the corner and screeched to a stop, spraying gravel. A man leapt out, running around the other side of the car to hurry the women on the other side.
"Hurry up, Ser! You're going to be a permanent resident!" someone yelled.
One quick peek at that scene was all Vana got before she stumbled on the stairs.
"Careful!" Dagon growled, grabbing her to prevent a fall.
"Sorry."
They dashed into the hall, past a series of rooms made hard to see by the press of bodies working toward a set of double doors. The crowd was so close she couldn't see what lay beyond them, but she felt the chill as they approached, an odd contrast to the body heat around her. And then she was through. A white light blinded her, and then she knew no more.
* * * *
Dagon swore as he caught the woman and lowered her to the frozen ground. They were supposed to have transported directly to the compound. This light forest with the frosted ground and naked trees was definitely not their destination. Tension gripped him, even after he recognized the familiar landmarks of the Banderols Highway, a mere two miles shy of their destination. It was the perfect spot for an ambush.
"Shields up! Battle positions," Dagon commanded. "We got a message of sabotage, so we rushed everyone out. A group of enemy soldiers broke into the lab and made it to the controls of the Istalgilese Tunnel before they were stopped. They wouldn't have dared alter our arrival point by much, not if it was the women they were after." With a touch of a button, the men shed the electronic illusion of human soldiers and transformed into the fearsome vision of fully armed, combat ready Beast warriors. The glowing eyes of their fantastical beast-headed helmets made them look alien and dangerous. Scarier still were the sleek black rifles and deadly handguns. They would need them, for their enemy was every bit as dangerous as they were.
He hadn't been surprised when he'd pulled up to the 'academy' and found the place in a state of controlled chaos. The emergency evacuation drills had prepared the men for trouble, and they'd been hustling the women along at a fast clip. Whatever had gone wrong at home would be dealt with immediately. They couldn't afford to have screw-ups like this happen, not with their precious breeders in hand. "Any sign of the Dark Ones?" he called to his scouts, who were busy scanning the area with their portable biosensors.
Vana heard the last, though the meaning was dulled in her mind. Everything was fuzzy, and far too bright, like sun off snow. Her body felt leaden, like a mattress left out in the rain and reluctantly dragged back in. Had she hit her head? Where was Dagon?
"What about the women?" someone said.
"The displacement will wear off soon. They're better off tranquilized--at least they'll remain calm."
Calm? Why did she need to remain calm? Was there a gas leak or something? Panic cleared her head. Suddenly the visual haze burned off. Vana sucked in a breath as the armored warriors around her came into view. A clear blue dome surrounded their group. And outside it--
The ground shook as a massive, clawed creature like a saber tooth, but far too big, leapt in front of the shield. It snarled, every muscle poised to jump. A helmet of worked metal protected its head, and a steel breastplate guarded its massive chest. A warrior with a deadly looking weapon rode on its back.
Vana made it into a crouch, but that was all her shaky body would do as a black dragon--a dragon!--landed in front of the shield. It flamed and screamed, shaking its wings in fury. It, too, was armored, but what shocked her more was the figure who dismounted and strode to the shield.
"Give up the women or die," he demanded, as more riders arrived to back up his threat. His armor was black, and the close-fitting helmet hid his face, making him even more frightening.
"When the sun freezes over, Nikon! Find your own women," the man who was apparently the leader called back. Outrageously tall, his animal headed helmet gleamed cold silver in the murky light. Close fitting body armor protected his chest, arms and legs. Even Mr. Rogers would look imposing in that get up.
Vana heartily agreed, until it dawned on her that she didn't know anything more about these men than she did the other. She glanced at the dragon and her mouth went dry. On the other hand, at least the men on her side of the bubble didn't have overgrown pets.
Nikon raised his hand. Every man there cocked his guns at the group within the bubble. The dragon drooled flame. "Is that your final word, Dagon?"
Dagon? Shocked, Vana glanced at the beast-headed leader. It couldn't be! Oh, man. She'd known that she had terrible taste in men, but this! How could she have misjudged him so badly? Chivalry, indeed, she thought with disgust. The jerk had been planning this all along!
Dagon cocked his own gun. "You never did know when to run, boy."
Vana hadn't survived twenty-five years alone in the big bad world for nothing. With lightning deduction--thank God her brain was working faster than her body--she grabbed a sidearm out of the nearest man's holster, then swiftly wrapped her arm around the neck of a petite blonde and hauled her to her feet. Before anyone could react, she had the gun pressed to the girl's temple.
"Play along," Vana hissed in her ear. "I'm going to try to get us out of here." Louder, she called, "Freeze! Nobody move or I'll blow her brains out, I swear!" It was a risky move. Had she stopped to think about it she would have chickened out. She was used to thinking exhaustively about what flavor of ice cream to buy at the store, for pity's sake! For someone who viewed trying Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey as a wild night out, this was crazy indeed. But for once in her life, action had taken the place of careful reasoning. Now she had to pray that her acting skills had peaked along with her bravado.
Warriors on both side of the shield stared at her in horror. "Don't do it, woman," Dagon warned.
She blew the girl's hair out of her face, trying to watch all sides at once as she spun in a circle, dragging the poor girl with her. "Back off! I will blow her head off, man, I swear!" she cried in her best imitation of a jacked up bank robber.
A circle cleared around them, with warriors forming a wall between the remaining women and Vana to protect them from wild shots.
Vana thought fast. "You," she nodded at the man whose gun she held. "Come here. That's far enough," she warned, holding the muzzle firmly to her captive's head. In a low voice, she told him, "I don't know what's going on, but I'm smart enough to figure out that we do not want to get shot in a war between you guys." She jerked her head at the men outside the shield. Adrenaline made her shake.
The girl held very still.
Vana said, "Pretend that whatever knocked us out when you brought us here made us crazy, or brain damaged, or whatever. Make those guys not want us, because none of these women deserve to get hurt." And hurt they would be if these guys started shooting. The fear in her gut told her so.
The warrior stared at her for a moment, his metallic head gleaming. Then he backed off and started an argument with Dagon. Their words grew louder and more heated, until finally he shouted at Dagon, "We were warned that this would happen. I told you that nobody was desperate enough to bed a bunch of crazy women! Give them to Nikon. What good are they? They'll pass on their madness to their children."
Nikon glanced sharply at Vana. Grumbling started among his men.
To egg him on, she raved, "What are you talking about? I'm not crazy!" she fired a shot into the air to prove her point. Instantly the warriors leveled their guns at her.
The blonde screamed and grabbed her head, apparently sure she was dead.
Vana gulped. Hoo, boy! She was toast. Maybe she was too good an actor … either that or she'd watched too much garbage on TV.
Vana grabbed the back of her captive's hair, trying not to be too rough. "Relax! Play along," she whispered. Though the girl probably thought she was nuts, she didn't fight. That was good, because the sight of all those rifles pointed at Vana made her light-headed. Heaven help her, she'd never pulled a stunt like this in her life! What had possessed her to act like a Wild West gunslinger?
"You see?" the warrior shouted. He waved his gauntleted hand at the other women, most of who still looked drugged and befuddled. "She's crazy and the minds have gone on the rest of them. Give them to Nikon. He deserves a crazy mate," he sneered.
Without another word, Nikon turned and mounted his dragon. With a roar, it leapt into the air and winged away. As one, his warriors rode off. Whatever appeal the women might have had seemed to have disappeared.
The instant they were out of sight, the girl pulled away from Vana and slapped away the hand with the gun. "What did you think you were doing? You could have killed me!"
"They left, didn't they?" The words were pure reflex. Shock was setting in. She was half-surprised the blonde had the energy left to fight.
"You were pulling my hair!" the blonde shouted, outraged, and by the look in her eyes, terrified of what was happening.
The warrior broke into their conversation by snatching his gun.
"You know each other?" he growled, seemingly uncertain of whether he ought to tackle Vana or not. He grasped her biceps just in case.
"No," the girl said, eyeing him with wide, wild eyes.
"Bind that one," Dagon snapped, pointing at Vana. "I want no more trouble from her until we reach the citadel."
Before she could protest, the warrior who held her arm produced a pair of cuffs and secured her hands in front of her. Without a word, he took her arm and started marching with the rest of warriors, herding the women along with them.
The blue shield moved with them as they walked, though Vana couldn't detect the source. It was easy enough to see the alien shape of the naked trees. Wind bent the tops and snatched the few remaining leaves, though the temperature inside the shield remained tolerable, as if it held in their body heat.
Dagon didn't look at her again. She resented that. Not only was she scared, but it was his fault she was here. If he'd really been a nice guy, he'd have….
What? Reassured her? Her inner voice demanded. That was stupid. He'd as much as said they'd been captured and lied to so these men could have sex with them. Did she expect him to say that it wouldn't happen? That she was an exception?
Grow up, the tough side of her demanded. You're nothing but a piece of meat to him. You're better off using your time to plan an escape.
She looked around and shivered at the alien landscape. She didn't even know how they'd gotten there. How would she ever get back home?
They'd walked about two miles before she saw a glowing blue city in the distance. The walls of the city were laid out in a ring, and the whole thing shimmered with what she suspected was another shield. As they got closer she discovered that the walls were truly massive and completely smooth, like metal.
Those inside must have seen them coming, because the walls opened up and men on silver hover sleds with animal head cowlings poured out. A large transport accompanied them.
"About time," Dagon snapped at the warrior who reached them first. "I've been trying to raise you on the communicator for an hour."
"You must have been jammed. We received no transmissions," the man answered.
The transport stopped in front of them, and the tired, frightened women were loaded inside and seated under guard.
The beast who'd escorted her reached for her cuffs.
"What? You don't think I'll try to hijack the transport?" Vana asked sarcastically.
He paused, stared at her--and left them on.
She shot him a look of disgust and let herself be herded onto the transport. They placed her alone on a bench seat, presumably so she couldn't cause more trouble. More nervous than she cared to admit, she turned to stare out the transport window.
Fear skipped along her veins, making her shiver as they entered the city gates. Spires and domes passed by, reminding her just how far from home they were. God, I want this to be a dream, she prayed, but this is far too real.
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