Spellbound with Sly

by Shelley Munro

  Cinnabar didn’t move a feather.

  “Can you take me to him?”

  Cinnabar blinked.

  “Why not?” Iseabal demanded. “Wait.” She held up a hand to enforce her order. “Will I see him tonight?”

  Cinnabar flapped her wings.

  Ah. Perhaps he was outside the resort area, as he’d been when she’d first spotted him. It didn’t matter, not if Cinnabar said he’d be present this eve. She’d make her move then implement her plan into action. No, she’d told her father she would stay with her friend for two cycles. She’d learn more of the resort and enjoy herself meanwhile.

  “Go and watch him,” Iseabal ordered. “Stay near him and only return to me if something changes.”

  * * * * *

  “Can you sense someone watching us?” Sly asked Joe.

  They were preparing the ground for another crop, on a slice of land to the left of their vines. Already, they’d germinated some of their precious seed supply and the plants were thriving in their private hothouse. Now it was time to transfer them outdoors.

  With uneasiness simmering through his belly, Sly scanned their surroundings. “That owl is here again.”

  “Where?” Joe asked.

  Sly pointed out the russet-colored bird. The owl stood upright, talons gripping the branch of a tree, peering at them intently. Big blue eyes dominated it’s large, broad head. They were the same shade of blue as Cinnabar’s eyes.

  His Cinderella.

  Despite his searches and inquiries, she’d vanished without a trace, without a hint of a shoe to help him discover her whereabouts. His feline gave a breathy sigh of regret, one that Sly echoed.

  “You’re thinking about Cinderella again,” Joe accused.

  Sly shrugged, not willing to admit—even to his twin—how much he missed Cinnabar, how much he craved her presence. “Anyone catch your attention from the latest arrivals?”

  “No,” Joe said. “I never thought I’d say this but even the easy sex gets old after a while. I want a woman with intelligent conversation, one I can be grumpy with if something is wrong and she’ll forgive me because she likes me rather than my body.”

  “I know what you mean. They tend to take one glance and get a greedy expression in their eyes. It makes me want to run. You spent time with a woman last month.”

  “I liked her,” Joe said. “The sex was okay, but I didn’t like her enough to offer more.”

  Sly noted the sun and its position in the sky. “We’d better hustle. Saber will be pissed if we arrive late to the welcome mixer.”

  An hour later, he and Joe approached the noisy function room. Background music played while topless male waiters dispersed fruity cocktails.

  “Just great,” Joe muttered. “A bunch of boozers. We’ll be black and blue tomorrow. Luckily, we heal fast.”

  While Sly shared Joe’s opinion, he didn’t comment. No point, since nothing he did would change their reality, not until either he or Joe thought of another way to raise funds to finance their farming operation. He snorted. Things hadn’t changed much from life on Earth in that respect.

  Joe clasped his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze of encouragement. “Catch you on the other side. Want to go for a night run afterward? A zylon hunt? Saber mentioned a hunt since the population is rising again.”

  The fluffy creatures appeared cute and cuddly until they bit—something in their saliva reacting badly with those in humanoid form. For some reason, a zylon bite didn’t kill felines, and they presented a sociable sport and an excellent way to wind down after an evening playing affable host with the resort guests.

  “Count me in,” Sly said. “Leo and Betrys might like to join us. Ma will keep an eye on the kid.” Ma loved babysitting Ricci, and was always side-eying her three oldest sons, willing them to add to her current count of one grandchild.

  “I’ll check with Scarlett, too, if I can find her. She’s making herself scarce these days. She refused to tell me what she was doing when I discovered her on the other side of our vineyard.”

  Sly pulled a face. “She was collecting rocks to make jewelry. She called them precious stones but they resemble common rocks.”

  Later, as he entered the function room, he noticed the owl again. It huddled on the windowsill, feathers ruffled, and it blinked twice, appearing sad and dejected.

  Inside, Sly collected a glass of water from the bar. The main function room was a glorified hall, in truth, but Ma and her helpers transformed it for each event until the space resembled a magical cavern full of flowers and colored lights. After a deep, fortifying breath, he started circulating. Although he disliked making nice with the grabby women, at least their currency had improved the lives of his family, their friends and relations.

  “Hello,” a black-haired woman said. With her golden skin and slim figure, she’d turn heads, yet Sly felt nothing. She took his hand and laced their fingers together and smiled. “I saw you from across the room and had to say hello. I’m Iseabal. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  “Iseabal.” Sly inclined his head and fought the urge to rip his hand from her touch. “How are you enjoying your holiday at Middlemarch Resort?”

  “It’s wonderful.” She beamed at him. “I’ve never visited a place like this before. So many interesting people and new ways.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying your visit,” Sly said, maintaining a polite manner that would make his mother and oldest brother proud. Gently, he regained ownership of his hand. “Let me introduce you to a few of our other employees.” He led her over to a group of his cousins, hoping one of them would take her off his hands. Something about this woman clanged his warning signals, yet he didn’t know why. “This is Iseabal,” he said. “My cousins Saul, Lucas, Duncan, and Ross.”

  As Sly had hoped, his cousins found the woman enticing and drew her into conversation. Her sweet laughter followed him as he left the group and searched for someone less pushy. He scanned the clusters of women, hunting for red hair. Cinnabar. The mysterious woman had captured him mind and spirit. He…he yearned for her. Not that he’d mention this to any of his brothers. They’d laugh.

  His gaze fell on a group of blue-skinned women, then he intercepted Saber’s glower and got the message. Get busy with the social thing.

  The joyfulness of the guests eluded him, but he forced a polite smile. “Hello.”

  “Good eve,” a petite blue-skinned woman said in a surprisingly deep voice. She had short blue horns protruding from her temples. “This is a beautiful resort.”

  Sly eyed the woman warily, gradually relaxing when he realized she didn’t intend to attack his person. It was early in the evening though. “Where are you from?”

  Saber and Ma had drilled them in polite conversation, and now the words flowed without a second thought.

  “I live on the Tiraq mainland,” she said.

  “Are you here alone?”

  “No, my friends are here with me. Five of us. We wanted to visit the resort before Mica mates with a chief from our neighboring planet, Dalcon.”

  Sly’s ears pricked. Not about the upcoming nuptials, but the fact she lived on Tiraq’s main land mass. “My brother and I enjoy working the land. We wish to purchase coos. Someone told me the Scothage people breed coos.”

  “Barbarians,” the woman spat.

  “Oh?”

  “They live in the Highlands in drafty castles and the clans are always feuding. One steals coos from his neighbor, and the neighbor’s neighbor steals them and so on, until the coos are back where they started.”

  Sly grinned at her obvious distaste. “I’m Sly Mitchell.”

  “Juanite Farstenan,” she replied.

  “What else can you tell me about the Scothage race? Do they sell their coos to outsiders?” The horns were kinda cute. He hadn’t seen a guest with horns before.

  “It’s possible. One of my friends may know more than me.” She craned her neck and let out a huff of impatience. “I hate having no height. Can you s
ee my entourage?”

  Sly scanned the function room and spotted Joe. “Juanite, come and meet my brother. We can search for your friends at the same time.” He offered his arm as Ma and Saber had instructed. “On Earth, this is a polite gesture,” he explained. “It means I wish to escort you safely across the room to discover your friends.”

  “I can protect myself.” But she placed her hand on his arm and he maneuvered through the crowded room to where Joe stood with a Tigrus woman. His brother was edging away, a smile frozen on his desperate face.

  “Juanite, this is Joe,” Sly said when he reached his twin.

  Both Juanite and the Tigrus woman scrutinized one twin and then the other.

  “We’re twins,” Sly said, stating the obvious.

  “Pretty,” the Tigrus woman purred. “I want both.”

  “No,” Sly said.

  “No,” Joe echoed.

  “I will persuade you.” The Tigrus woman cocked her head, her purr rumbling in her well-endowed chest.

  “Friends only,” Sly said before the Tigrus woman could pounce. He noticed Joe had edged away, leaving him closest and in pouncing range.

  “Stand down,” Juanite ordered.

  The Tigrus woman bristled, her striped hair lifting and puffing out and upward in agitation. Her feline eyes narrowed to slits, and Sly was certain her tail was twitching from side to side.

  “How about a drink on the house?” Joe said hurriedly.

  “What would you like?” Sly asked.

  Neither of the women paid them the slightest bit of attention, their gazes locked and loaded with challenge.

  Without warning, Juanite opened her maw. Her tongue shot out and slapped the Tigrus woman on the face. The force of the blow sent the Tigrus woman flying.

  Sly hurried to help her up. Holy hell. That had been…unexpected. Horns and a weird tongue.

  Saber arrived, shot him and Joe a stern glance as if they were at fault, and escorted the weeping Tigrus woman away for a consolation drink.

  Five petite blue women, all with horns, appeared and fanned out behind Juanite in a silent show of solidarity.

  “Problem?” one barked.

  Juanite waved a hand in dismissal. “No. No. Taken care of.”

  “You should have called, Princess,” one of the blue ladies chided.

  “I am capable of handling an unruly Tigrus,” Juanite said with disdain.

  “Princess?” Sly asked. “Most of our royal guests have their security teams with them.”

  Juanite sniffed. “Where is the fun in that? We were searching for you,” she told her group.

  The five blue women gaped, navy-blue brows arching in unison. Sly worried about tongue action and took a half step back.

  “Why didn’t you mind-call?” one asked finally.

  “I enjoy the slow way of searching.” She tucked her arm in Sly’s. “I like Sly’s company. He hasn’t tried to spank me or to strong-arm me to mate with him.”

  “I-I…” Sly paused and tried again. “I don’t wish to mate with a woman. All I require is friendship.” Apart from his mystery woman.

  The five blue women gaped again, giving Sly another glimpse of their bluish tongues. They appeared innocent enough, despite the whopping Juanite had meted out to the Tigrus woman.

  Juanite beamed. “I told you this was the perfect place for us to visit. We get a rest from pushy suitors and a chance to rejuvenate and enjoy spirited conversations. Sly and I were discussing coos.”

  “Coos?” one asked.

  A second blue lady wrinkled her nose. “Nasty creatures. Big horns. Shaggy coats. They do taste exceptional though.”

  “Do you know where we can buy coos?” Joe asked.

  “Yes,” Sly said. “We understand we’d have to negotiate with one of the Scothage clans.”

  “Dangerous people.”

  “Barbarians.”

  “But do you think they will sell us coos?” Sly asked. “Even a few would be a start.”

  “We could make inquiries for you when we reach our home,” Juanite offered. “You’re welcome to visit and stay at our chateau while you transact your business.”

  “Thank you,” Joe said.

  Sly nodded. “Yes, thank you. We need to save our currency first. But if we learned more, the cost and how many the Scothage would sell us to start that would be a help.”

  “We can do that for you. Give us your com direction and we will secure the information you need. Now, what would you suggest we do tomorrow? We are not interested in captures. We can do that at home,” Juanite said.

  “The beach is lovely. Ask the kitchen to organize a picnic for you and spend time at the beach. Visit the shops. All the ladies seem to enjoy the clothes and shoes on sale,” Sly suggested.

  “Shoes?” Juanite asked. “I adore shoes. Do they have ones to make me taller?”

  “My brother’s mate designs clothes and her aunt makes shoes. If you have something special in mind, speak to Casey. My sister raves about her clothes,” Sly replied.

  “Any other suggestions?” one of the blue ladies asked.

  “Don’t miss the food at the ball. You’ll get to try delicious Earth dishes. Or go for a tour of the village and grounds. I do those,” Joe said.

  Juanite clapped her hands together. “I sensed this was a delightful place to visit.”

  Sly exchanged an amused glance with his twin. He was learning. Introduce the topic of clothes, shoes or food, and most of the guests grew excited and happy. Joe shared a grin of satisfaction with him. They had a solid lead for their cattle. Progress at last.

  In his peripheral vision, he caught a blur. Wary of over-exuberant women, he half-turned.

  A cloud of golden dust engulfed him in a swirling wave and a blinding flash of yellow light.

  Sly gasped, the shimmering particles filling his nostrils, his throat. He sneezed, peered around blearily, yet he saw nothing except eddies of gold and yellow. Every muscle in his body tensed.

  Something walloped him in the chest.

  The force of the blow shoved him backward. He tried to countermove and regain his balance. His limbs refused to obey.

  A wrenching pain jerked his torso. His skin prickled. He wheezed, struggling to inhale. Not enough air. Not enough air.

  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, dammit.

  His mind grew fuzzy. He glimpsed faces for a brief second. Joe’s. Juanite’s.

  Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

  He was frozen.

  Sly’s knees crumpled.

  He felt himself falling, falling, falling.

  His surroundings faded, growing darker, until they reached a suffocating, endless black.

  He struck the ground. Groaned, unsure which way was up or down.

  Everything was black and full of nothingness.

  Empty.

  Was this death?

  His throat tight, chest constricted, he finally, finally dragged in a breath. It made a sucking sound. He turned, did two slow blinks.

  Why hadn’t anyone told him death had blue eyes?

  Chapter Five

  Saber kept an eye on Sly, Joe and the group of blue ladies after he’d escorted the weeping Tigrus woman to his mother. His gut bucked and tightened and jiggled, yet he noted nothing amiss. Not a single threat. Sly and Joe were entertaining the group from the Tiraq mainland. His younger brothers spoke with enthusiasm, waving their hands in illustration.

  The blue ladies appeared equally happy, listening intently and offering their contributions to the spirited discussion.

  Still, Saber’s warning antenna buzzed and buzzed. Like a bee in a tizzy, a premonition circled his mind. He scanned the function room. Not one threat visible.

  Strife happened. Not unusual in this mix of races. Small misunderstandings quickly switched to large ones if he didn’t stomp them dead. An example—the situation between the blue lady and the Tigrus woman. He’d learned to spot the signs before small situations turned into outright war.


  But no. It was happy-happy, joy-joy. Everyone beamed, even the Tigrus woman, who was now chatting with his cousin Sam Mitchell.

  Saber scrutinized the room again. Cheerful guests. Sly and Joe and their blue entourage.

  Then a burst of golden light erupted, so bright his eyes shut in self-defense. He blinked to refocus.

  Crap! He was darting, running, pushing past stunned bystanders even before his vision cleared to twenty-twenty. He skidded to a stop beside Joe as Sly crumpled.

  “What the hell happened?” Saber pushed aside a blue lady and crouched next to Joe.

  “I don’t know! There was a bright light. By the time my sight cleared, Sly was down. He has a pulse. God, Saber. Tell me I’m not imagining his heartbeat.” Stark fear shone from Joe, and the same terror beat and slapped at Saber.

  “No, you’re right. He’s still alive.”

  Leo and Felix arrived.

  Felix inhaled sharply. “Is he—?”

  “He’s still breathing. Joe, help me get him out of here. Felix. Leo. Offer everyone a drink. Tell Ma to organize a party game.”

  Sly was a dead weight. His skin radiated a clammy chill that reminded Saber of Earth during a cold July winter in New Zealand. His skin appeared bloodless and pale, his chest lifting grudgingly in tiny increments. He didn’t show a sign of regaining consciousness.

  And still unease buzzed through Saber, the bee still present, still agitated.

  He and Joe hoisted Sly to his feet and pretended to walk him from the function room. In reality, they dragged him, using brute force to get him outside.

  “Where do we take him?” Joe asked.

  “The infirmary,” Saber said. “I’ll contact Casey once we get there. Hopefully, she’ll know what’s wrong with him. Did any of those blue women touch him with their tongues?”

  “No. We were talking. None of them want mates. It was a friendly chat.”

  “Okay.” Saber tamped down his worry. The bright light hadn’t dropped anyone else. Just Sly. Had he been unlucky or was it something else?

  They huffed and puffed and manhandled Sly along a short path to a squat stone building. Currently empty. Actually, it was usually vacant.

  “Hold Sly’s weight while I get the door,” Joe said. “I didn’t realize he was so heavy.”