Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind (35 page)

"No male zygotes are allowed to take root in Amazeen bellies, Healer,” she said. “On that score you have nothing to worry about."

The former head of the Rysalian Fleet Command flinched. He remembered all too well the Rysalians not allowing female zygotes to live. “Go, then,” Tylan said. “We'll meet you on the Vex but if that Rysalian Prime ship gets too close, we're going to hightail it through the wormhole and you'll have to meet us on Terra. Understood?"

Kahmal nodded, relieved. “Understood!” She hurried away.

"This could be catastrophic,” Elena told Tylan.

"We just have to pray it won't be,” Tylan replied.

Lares stood at the vid-com screen and watched the Necromanian ship carrying Zainabu out of his life for good. He hadn't given much thought to the woman who had been his J'Bai since Joining with Beryla—the love of his life—so he was surprised to feel a tug at his heart as Prince Kamau took Zainabu back to Necroman.

"Did you get a chance to speak with your nephew?” Tylan asked. He swiveled his head around to watch as Kamerone Cree was being laid into one of the Extended Sleep Units—the E.S.U.

"I did not wish to speak with that jackal,” Lares grumbled. “I might well have snapped his worthless neck like a dry twig.” He sniffed. “Nor did I deign to say farewell to the woman who betrayed me."

Tylan sighed. “Taborn, if there was any betraying, you were the one who started it by Joining with Beryla. For once in your life own up to the decisions you made."

Lares glared at Kahn. “Who is to say which of us betrayed the other first, you slimy eel? I was in prison for many years before my friend extracted McGregor and me. Zainabu could well have been cuckolding me even then!"

Shaking his head at the man's obstinacy, Tylan folded his arms and just looked at Taborn. “If it soothes your conscience to believe that then so be it, Taborn. You are the one who is moping here at the window, though. I don't believe your Necromanian warrioress is."

Drawing himself up, Lares’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am not moping, you son of a worm!"

Tylan's own dark eyes narrowed. “We'll talk about your propensity to insult me when we're back on Terra,” he said.

"Count on it,” Lares snapped and stalked off, his muscular shoulders hunched.

"Admiral?"

Tylan turned around and headed for Dorrie who was standing at Cree's E.S.U. “Aye, milady?"

"We are about to close the lid on the E.S.U. He's half-awake still and has been mumbling. I've heard your name a few times. Do you want to speak to him before we put him out?"

Tylan looked down at the face of the only man he truly considered to be his friend and was concerned with the lines that had formed on Kamerone Cree's face. The lines would smooth out—the parasite would see to it—but for now they gave mute evidence of the strain and the agony the Reaper was experiencing. He put a hand on Cree's shoulder.

"We'll be heading out in just a few minutes, Captain,” he said, giving back the rank he had taken from the Reaper long ago. “When next you wake, we'll be behind the Terran moon and you will be but a heartbeat away from your Bridget."

Cree moaned as though he had heard the words, but he did not move.

"Sleep tight, Reaper,” Tylan said. “We've got your back.” He looked up at Dorrie and nodded. He stepped back to allow her to close the lid on the E.S.U., sealing Cree in.

Dorrie locked the lid and stood with the palm of her hand on the plexi lid as the vital signs on the readout beside the unit began to take Cree into deep hibernation by stilling his heart, ceasing the flow of blood, maintaining his life, but—more importantly—stopping the savage pain eating at him.

"We're ready to roll out, Admiral,” Khiershon said.

"We've got your back, Kam,” Tylan repeated then turned away from the E.S.U. “And we're on our way home."

The
Ailith
had to wait until the
Alluvia
was out of the tunnel and banking its way to Amazeen to retrieve Kahmal's breeders before it could begin its journey.

"Are any of you close to Transition?” Khiershon asked his bloodkin at a meeting the next morning as the
Ailith
sped toward Montyne Vex and its meeting with the
Alluvia
.

"I am,” Killian Kiel answered. “I should go on into a con cell now, I guess."

"Me, too,” Rylan admitted. “I'm about three days away as is Braiden."

"I Transitioned to take care of that traitor who would have torched the Prime,” Danielle said, “so that will screw up my cycle. I wasn't close to my regular time, though."

"We'll keep watch on you, little one,” Comyn Coure told her with a smile.

"Aye, little sister,” Kaelan agreed. “We'll take care of you."

"I am pleased none of you wish to be out for this journey, but I will caution you to rest as much as you can,” Khiershon said. “Admiral Kahn and I have spoken at length and we believe you should all be indoctrinated thoroughly on what to expect once we arrive on Terra so you'll fit right in. The Prime not having done so caused him untold grief so we hope to prevent that from happening with you. There is much data in the computer banks and we also have additional disklettes on each of you that I suggest you view."

"Disklettes on us?” Kaelan repeated.

"The disklettes pertain to how you were chosen, the names of your birth mothers, etc. You might find such information useful and you might not. Personally, I intend to study those tapes at length to learn all I can about what makes me, me."

"Do those tapes also include the biomaps of our M-R's?” Eachan Gehdrin inquired.

"They do and there is also a detailed history of the Reaper program that I must insist you view. I had a chance to skim over it and there is information there that will shock you,” Khiershon said. “The Prophetess-Mother also provided a disklette expressly for the eyes of the Prime and the Prime, alone, and that concerns me. I hope when he is able to view it, he will apprise us of its contents."

"Are you concerned about your M-R implants?” Toryn Belial asked.

"I believe we all should be,” Khiershon replied. “The implants need to come out, gentlemen.” He looked at Danielle. “And lady."

"We were told that would be dangerous,” Ghrian Tohre spoke up.

"Aye, we were told a lot of things I'm beginning to discover were out and out lies given to keep us under a tight control,” Khiershon said. “View the tapes and then we will talk again."

"Will we be able to stay together on Terra?” Corydon Cree asked.

Khiershon shrugged. “That I can't tell you. I suppose it will be up to the Prime to make that decision."

"I am unaccustomed to having anyone make my decisions for me,” Taegin Kullen said, “but for the Prime, I will make the exception."

"Me and you, both, cousin,” Khiershon said with a smile. He gave Comyn then Kaelan arch looks. “I hear you men have already hooked up with Terran women."

Comyn laughed. “Her name is Pat and she is a weapons specialist."

"Lisa,” Kaelan stated. “She is a MedTech."

"I'm still looking, but I find Lin Dixon rather amusing, but then again, Roy Matheny has the sweetest smile...” Danielle said and the other Reapers laughed.

Khiershon drew in a deep breath. “The connections you make now may or may not hold once we get to Terra. All I ask is that you be sure before you mate because...."

"We will mate for life,” Taegin interrupted. “Aye, we know."

Khiershon turned his full gaze on Kullen. “View the tapes before you do anything and then if you decide that lovely Amazeen on the
Alluvia
is for you, then so be it."

"It's a bit late for me,” Ghrian guffawed. “My Amazeen practically wore me to the nub yesterday."

"View the disklette, Tohre,” Khiershon repeated.

"How did you know your woman was your true mate, Cree?” Kaelan inquired.

"You just know, young one,” Khiershon told his younger brother. “I will stress again: view the disklettes."

The Vid-Com chimed and Iyan's face appeared on the screen. “That Rysalia Prime ship is all of a sudden pouring on speed, Khier. I think we might better hail it."

"How far away is it now?” Khiershon asked.

"About two days behind us but at the rate its coming, it could catch us to us while we're on the Vex and I don't like the thought of that."

"I told Kahmal if we had to we'd go on through the wormhole and she can join us,” Khiershon reminded Iyan.

"Aye, but what if that Multitude ship has the intention of disabling the anomaly?” Iyan suggested. “If Kahmal isn't through it before then, she won't be joining us."

Each of the Reapers—especially those who had formed alliances with the Amazeens on the Alluvia—stiffened.

"Surely that isn't their intent,” Eachan Gehdrin said.

"It very well could be,” Khiershon said. His face mirrored his unease.

"All the more reason to contact the Multitude ship,” Iyan said. “Mayhap they will give us an idea of what they plan."

"I'm on my way to the bridge,” Khiershon snapped.

Although he lay perfectly still, Kamerone Cree was very much aware of what was going on around him. His body had shut down and with it the brutal pain but his psychic abilities—thanks to the strength and power of his parasite—were active. He could hear the voices from the corridor as crewman passed his quarters. He could sense their unease and knew it had to do with the Multitude ship shadowing them. Although he could receive thoughts, he found he could not send them no matter how hard he strived to do so and thus could not tell Khiershon the ship from Rysalia Prime carried the Prophetess-Mother LeJong Kym and her Auxiliary Prophetess, Shei-Ling. That ship posed no threat to them but it would, indeed, close the porthole into the Terran galaxy.

He drifted for awhile—listening in to conversations that both amused and shocked him—and then let his psychic awareness wander to that blue-green planet toward which he was speeding. Pushing aside all worries, he settled his mind's eye upon the lovely green eyes of his lady and could almost feel the softness of her flesh beneath his fingers.

"I am coming home to you, my Bridget,” he whispered in his mind.

Then the memory had come of their first time after the birth of their son when he had taken her into his arms and held her, loved her as he had so ached to do. That memory washed over him in waves of longing and he allowed himself to experience it again.

"What are you eating now?” Bridget sighed as she'd discovered him sitting in the middle of their bed—naked as the day he'd been born, cross-legged, happily munching on a large bowl of lush, red fruit.

"Try this!” he grinned, shoving the newest treat he'd discovered toward her lips. “This is so cool!"

"Kamerone...” she said with exasperation.

He thrust the chocolate-covered strawberry dipped in whipped cream into her mouth. His eyebrows lifted. “Well?"

Bridget's eyes narrowed as she glared at him. She munched the fruit, one eyebrow cocked. “Did you melt my box of Godiva chocolates?"

He waved away her question. “Isn't that good?"

She stared at him with irritation. “You melted my gods-be-damned Godiva chocolates, Kamerone!"

He swirled another red, ripe strawberry through the cup of melted chocolate in his hand then dredged it through the tub of Cool-Whip. “Here, try another one."

"No!” she snapped and snatched the melted chocolate from his hand. She looked down at it with dismay. “You melted my Godiva chocolates!"

There had been something in her tone that set off an alarm in his being. He frowned. “They taste just the same melted as they do unmelted, Bridget,” he defended then brightened. “And they are so good on the fruit and..."

Tears gathered in Bridget's eyes. “You melted my chocolates!"

He stood there as she flung herself facedown on the bed and began to bawl like a spoiled infant. For the longest time he simply stared at her—the tanned flesh of her long legs peeking out from the hem of her skirt—unable to understand what he'd done that had brought on such a reaction.

"I'm offering to share them with you, Bridie,” he said like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Her head came up like that of a turtle from its shell and she pivoted it around so she could glare at him. “You melted my chocolate, you Ry-Chalean twit!” she flung at him. “
My
chocolate and you sit there offering to share it?"

That had him frowning in earnest until he realized it wasn't so much the fact he'd melted the chocolate as it had been he had pilfered chocolate without asking. He put aside the little bowl of chocolate and the strawberries and stretched out on his belly beside her.

"Wanna beat me up?” he asked. When she didn't answer, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Wanna beat me to a squishy black pulp all oozy and stuff?"

"Yes,” she mumbled into the coverlet.

"I'll let you,” he said. He laid his forehead on her shoulder. “I won't even make a sound while you pummel me."

"I want you to howl, Reaper,” she snapped at him. “I want you to bellow like a castrated bull."

"O ... kay,” he replied, drawing the word out. “I'll howl as though the hounds of the Abyss are after my ass.” He nudged her again. “Will that make up for me stealing your precious chocolate?"

"No,” she grumbled.

"I'll let you stake me on a fire ant bed,” he said. “How's that?"

"Not enough,” she sniffed.

"Then what if I let you stick pins under my fingernails?"

She gave him a fierce look. “What if I withhold all junk food from you for two ... no, make that three ... weeks, Reaper? Then maybe I'll be inclined to forgive you."

"Three weeks?” he had gasped, horrified at such a suggestion. “Bridie, that's not punishment. That's torture!"

"Live with it, Reaper,” she'd growled.

"Milady, please,” he said softly. “I can not live without my salsa and chips."

"You'll have to."

"Please,” he whispered, nuzzling her with his chin. “Pretty please with.... “He'd started to say chocolate on top but thought better of it. “Whipped cream on top."