Laura Jo Phillips (7 page)

Chapter
8

Summer wasn’t sure how she felt about being taken to the home of the Dracon Princes.  She knew that they had been searching for her in particular, though she did not know why, and she also knew that they had a problem with Darleen, also a fuzzy issue.  No matter what the reasons were, what she really wanted to do was get time alone with Darleen and Lio so she could ask him how to remove the silver coating on Darleen’s skin, and where the slave compound was located.  But, as Darleen had pointed out to her before they had boarded the VTOL with the Katres, learning the location of the compound wasn’t going to be enough.  They could not get there and raid the place on their own.  For that, they were going to need help.

Summer was hoping that the Princes would offer the help she needed.  She had no reason to think they would, but it was the only hope she had at the moment.  The Katres had offered their help, but their initial warmth toward her had cooled dramatically.  She wasn’t sure why, and she didn’t really have the energy to figure it out.  She just knew that she could feel them in some strange way, and that they did not seem to like her very much.  Particularly the eldest brother, Maxim.  She could feel his anger toward her pouring off of him from where he sat on the other side of the small aircraft cabin, though his expression appeared calm and neutral.

That actually bothered her more than she thought it should.  She told herself it was absurd.  Why should she care what those men thought of her?  After all that she had been through over the past year, the last thing she needed to think about was men.  Especially men who didn’t like her. 

She pushed her hurt feelings aside and focused on her current goals, which were finding the slave compound, getting someone to help her free the women being held there, and doing it all without letting anyone know they had injected a Controller into Lio’s brain.

The flight from Badia to the ranch had been short, barely half an hour in the high speed VTOL.  It had also been virtually silent.  None of the Katres had spoken a word during the trip, and neither had she, Darleen or, of course, Lio.  Summer had hoped for a few moments to speak with Darleen privately before they reached their destination, but that had not been possible.  Now, as she stepped off the VTOL with Darleen close by her side, and Lio marching right behind her, she began to feel nervous about meeting these Princes.  She knew nothing about them, and was suddenly worried that they would take Darleen from her in spite of the Katres’ acknowledgment of her Battle Bond.

She was distracted by the sight of a large man approaching them from the edge of the field they had landed in, and Maxim moving ahead of their group to meet him.  For the first time, Summer realized that she was still wearing the ugly, coarse shift that Keeper Tesla had put on her that morning, and nothing else.  Her feet were bare and the thick, blue grass was cold and wet beneath them.  There was also a cold breeze blowing and the skies were dark with clouds.  She folded her arms in front of her, shivering with the cold as she glanced at Darleen worriedly. 

Her feet were bare as well, but at least she had the cloak to cover her.  Summer had seen Darleen without that cloak and knew that she was very thin, her eyes sunken, her bones sticking out all over.  Summer did not think the other woman had enough physical reserves to fight off a cold or a chill, so she was doubly thankful for the cloak that covered her, providing some protection from the wind. 

In contrast, Summer was in the best physical shape of her life.  The forced exercise and diet provided by the Keepers at the slave compound was intended to make the women healthy, beautiful and desirable to prospective owners.  Clearly Lio had no such intentions with Darleen.

Summer glanced down and saw that Darleen’s silver feet flashed briefly with each limping step she took.  Well, there was no help for it.  She hoped these people would have enough compassion not to mention it.

Faron Lobo watched the party disembark from the air transport.  Maxim first, then Loni, then a tall woman with long black hair.  She was followed by a figure cloaked in black, then a human male.  Last was Ran, who hopped out of the pilot cockpit and walked a few yards behind the group of humans.

There was something odd going on, Faron thought.  Maxim did not glance behind him even once to check on the women, nor did he walk at a pace that they could hope to match.  Faron lifted a hand to call Maxim forward.  As Maxim picked up his pace, Faron glanced at the women again and noted that the one with the long black hair was wearing no more than a short dress, and was obviously quite cold. 

Maxim stopped before Faron and bowed.  “I greet you Lord Protector,” he said.

“Is the woman with the dark hair Summer Whitney?” Faron asked. 

Maxim stilled.  Faron’s lack of return greeting indicated his extreme displeasure, and the question told him the subject, if not the reason.

“Yes,” Maxim replied, moderating his tone carefully.  Faron Lobo was a friend, but he was also High Lord Protector, a rank exceeded only by the Dracon Princes themselves.

“Why is it that you have not done her the courtesy of providing her with some warm clothing or a wrap?  It is quite cold and the woman is all but bare.”

Maxim turned around and looked at the group approaching them, noticing for the first time that Summer was indeed cold, and barely dressed.  His anger and disappointment in her as their Arima was no excuse for ignoring her basic needs. 

As he watched, Ran whipped off his own jacket, hurried forward and laid it across Summer’s shoulders.  Summer looked up at him in gratitude as she pulled the oversized garment around her.  Even as tall as she was, Ran’s jacket reached her knees.

Maxim turned back to Faron, shame written clearly on his face.  “That was thoughtless and careless of me,” he admitted.

Faron studied Maxim carefully.  “You are extremely upset,” he noted. 

Maxim nodded but offered no explanation.

“I have sent for a ground-car to take us to our home,” Faron said.  Maxim looked at him in surprise.  “Our Princes are currently in an important meeting and unavailable.  I will handle this matter on their behalf.”

“Very well,” Maxim said.  “You should be aware that the cloaked figure is Darleen Flowers.”

Faron’s eyes narrowed as he turned his eyes again to the group still walking slowly toward them.  He watched the cloaked figure for a long moment, then turned his eyes back to Maxim.

“What has been done to her?” he asked.

Maxim was annoyed by the question.  “I have done nothing to her,” he said.  “I have not even seen her without the cloak.”

 “I meant no accusation, Maxim,” Faron said, puzzled by Maxim’s behavior.  “Clearly something dreadful has been done to her.  I only asked if you knew what.”

Maxim was confused.  He turned around again and, for the first time, took a moment to really look at the cloaked figure.  Even with the cloak concealing her, it was obvious that the woman was very thin; her shoulders were sharp against the cloth, and barely wider than her head.  Her limping, stumbling gait indicated both injury and weakness, and brought his attention to the bright flash of silver beneath the cloak at each step.  For a moment he thought she was wearing silver shoes, but his eyesight was quite good, and it took him only a moment to realize that her feet were bare, and that it was her skin that was silver. 

He again felt a stab of guilt.  How was it that he had not noticed what was so obvious?  But he knew the answer to his own question.  He would have noticed had he bothered to look, but he hadn’t. 

“Miss Whitney said that she was Lio Perry’s prisoner for a year,” Maxim said.  “She also indicated that Darleen Flowers had suffered horribly, and demanded that I not harm or threaten her.”

“Lio Perry?” Faron asked.

“The human male following Miss Whitney like a trained
squilik
,” he replied, struggling to keep the petulance out of his voice. 

Faron realized a lot more was going on between the Katres and the humans they escorted than he knew.  But now was neither the time nor the place for a long discussion.

“We shall talk more later,” he said to Maxim just as the rest of the party reached them. 

“Miss Whitney,” Faron said, bowing to the woman wearing Ran’s jacket, her bare feet nearly as blue as the grass she stood upon.  “I am Faron Lobo.  I believe you have met my Arima, Saige, once named Saige Taylor.”

Summer’s eyes brightened.  “Yes, I remember her from the
Cosmic Glory
,” she said.  “I am not familiar with the term
Arima
though.”

Faron smiled.  “It is of no matter at this time,” he said as Ric arrived with a ground-car.  “We will have time to talk when we are someplace warm and dry, and you have had some time to rest.”  He turned to the cloaked figure.  “Darleen Flowers,” he said.  “As you may know, there are serious criminal charges against you.  However, I am aware that you have been held prisoner this past year and I understand that your suffering during that time has been great.  Therefore, we shall set the other matters aside for now, and bid you welcome.”

Maxim knew that Faron was correct in his handling of Darleen Flowers, and wondered at himself that he had not paid more attention to either woman’s physical condition.  He was truly ashamed of himself for that.  He had allowed his emotions to cloud his judgment, a juvenile mistake.  And an unacceptable one.

He turned and looked at Loni, whose face wore its usual placid mask, then he glanced at Ran who, in contrast, was an open book.  Ran’s pupils were thin slits against the gold of his eyes, an indication of real anger.  Maxim knew the anger was directed at him.  He acknowledged that he deserved at least part of it.  There was no excuse for his neglect of the women’s health and comfort.  But, even so, he was not ready to change his mind about Summer Whitney. 

Chapter
9

By the time Lio’s assistant knocked on the door for the second time, Za-Linq was nearly ready to practice his skills at
xafla
with the man.  Za-Queg had been the acknowledged champion at clean-slice, but Za-Linq had not been far behind his predecessor in the game.

“Enter,” he snapped impatiently. 

The door opened and again the assistant stuck his head into the room.  The scent of fear was pouring off of the man and Za-Linq prepared himself for bad news.

“The runner did not return, Mr. Za-Linq, Sir,” the man said nervously.  “So I took a run down to the office myself and the entire building is crawling with Jasani troops.  I don’t know what’s going on, but I thought you would want to know at least that much so I came right back to tell you.”

A wave of dread ran through Za-Linq.  He simply could not afford a disaster at this time.  He had just gotten into his Ruling Female’s good graces after a year of hard work. 

Za-Linq took a deep breath and ordered himself to think.  There were many reasons why the Jasani could be at that building, all but one of them having nothing whatsoever to do with himself or the Xanti slave operation.  It was logical to assume that Lio was simply lying low until the Jasani left the building. 

Yes, Za-Linq thought, that was the logical thing to assume.  However, the safest thing to assume, the
wisest
thing to assume, was that Lio had made a mistake and brought the Jasani down upon himself.  In that case, the best course of action for Za-Linq was to destroy Lio before the Jasani had a chance to learn more from him than whatever they already knew.

Za-Linq glanced at the assistant who was still waiting at the door for further orders.  He briefly considered putting the man in charge, then discarded the idea.  The man was certainly more respectful than Lio had been, but he did not appear to have the proper leadership qualities.  Of course, it was difficult to tell such things with humans.  Well, that was a decision for a later time. 

“Dismiss the men waiting for Lio,” he said.  “Then secure the warehouse and go home.  I will contact you directly for further orders when I am ready.”

“Yes Sir, Mr. Za-Linq, as you wish,” the man said quickly before pulling his head back and shutting the door. 

Za-Linq stepped onto the transport pad and pressed the button on his wrist band, taking a calming breath in preparation for the disorienting sensation this method of travel always caused him.  A moment later he blinked in confusion to find himself still standing in the warehouse office.  He pressed the button on his wristband again, and again he remained where he was. 

Za-Linq calmly reached for the emergency location device around his neck and activated it.  He then settled down to wait the half hour or so it would take for his retrieval.  While he waited, he carefully considered the question of how many pieces he should carve his chief engineer into.  There were valid points of argument for several different numbers, some favoring odd, others even, so there really was a lot to consider.  Nevertheless, he was certain that by the time he was once again aboard his own ship he would have made his decision, and would be fully prepared to commence the festivities. 

Chapter
10

Summer sat in a soft chair in the corner of the guest room she had been led to once they had arrived at the Lobos’ home.  There had been a lot of raised brows and a few angry stares when she had insisted that both Darleen and Lio remain with her in the same room, but she didn’t really care what they thought of her.  Once upon a time she would have.  Very much, in fact.  But not any more.  Her likeability was the least of her concerns.