LC03 Shield's Lady

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Gryph lounged back in his suspended chair and smiled in satisfaction. “Business is booming, as you well know. It looks like I’ll be hiring a couple more men next week.”

  “I told you there was a market for an agency specializing in private investigative services, security guards and escorts for people who need to travel to the frontier towns.”

  Gryph chuckled. “You were right.”

  “This kind of work is the perfect transition craft for a Shield. It allows him and his clan to live in town if he wishes. His sons can go to school with the children of other classes and learn to move comfortably in society. When the time comes, those same sons will have a much broader range of acquaintances from which to choose mates. And they’ll also be a lot more acceptable as husbands to families who fear losing a daughter to the frontier. Eventually, as the Shields learn the ins and outs of investments, they’ll make all kinds of social inroads. In the long run money is a lot more useful than a blade bow or a knife.”

  Gryph shrugged. “We’ll see what happens. You’ve made one hell of a start on singlehandedly changing a whole social system, I’ll say that for you.”

  “The whole social class system on both continents is undergoing a lot of change and restructuring. The old inflexible rules set down by the social philosophers who sent us here never did hold as well as those planners would have liked. Nothing stays static. Trust me. Things are going to be different around here in the coming years. I’m going to help make sure that our class doesn’t get left behind in the dust.”

  “It isn’t a question of trusting you, it’s a question of keeping up with you, my love. Wait until your parents see what you’ve accomplished during your so-called exile here.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” she retorted with a grin. “They’re due to arrive next week.”

  “Worried about how they’ll react to your new husband?”

  “No.” Sariana smiled. “My new husband is getting rich fast, and as I have tried to explain on countless occasions, easterners have a built-in respect for anyone who controls wealth.”

  “You certainly didn’t have to worry about your welcome from my family, did you? When my folks took one look at you and realized you were pregnant, they adopted you instantly into the clan.”

  “I think both your parents and mine tend to be pragmatic about certain things. Oh, that reminds me,” Sariana said, “would you mind very much if we had a little girl instead of a little boy?”

  Gryph nearly dropped his fork. “Sariana, that’s impossible. I’ve explained to you that Shields only produce male offspring.”

  “Yes, I know,” she agreed soothingly, “but something tells me that’s another thing that’s going to start changing on Windarra.”

  Gryph shook his head, perplexed. “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “Lately I haven’t always understood how I know some of the things I know. But it’s occurred to me that this planet may be changing all of us in small, subtle ways.” She reached up to stroke the lizard on her shoulder. “Take this matter of women turning lizards into pets and krellcats having an affinity for human males. Even in the eastern provinces it’s become fashionable in recent years for men and women to keep some odd pets. I never had one because I was always studying so hard, but I knew people who did have them. And there was something strange about the relationship, Gryph, just as there’s something different about the relationship scarlet-toes and krellcats have with westerners. It’s not a normal people-pet relationship.”

  “So scarlet-toes and krellcats are a little different. So what?”

  “I’m not sure,” Sariana said, frowning intently as their food arrived, “but I’ve been thinking about it and there are some other matters which seem to indicate slight changes taking place.”

  “Such as?”

  “How about the matter of a Shield learning to use his mind as a weapon? Both you and Targyn achieved that dubious distinction. Is there any indication that any of your ancestors had that ability?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “And what about you and me?” she continued forcefully. “You’ve said yourself that our link is unusual in many ways.”

  “Sariana,” Gryph said grandly, “you would be an unusual wife on any planet in the universe. I strongly suspect you’re totally unique. I don’t know of another woman on the face of the planet who could have convinced me to let Etion Rakken’s bank handle the prisma transactions.”

  “Don’t change the subject. There are some other matters I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Such as?” Gryph leaned back, resigned.

  “It has occurred to me that your ancestors were ordinary men who showed a slight potential for some form of mental ability. The scientists found a way to strengthen part of that potential by injecting those men with some chemical. Originally everyone assumed the result would be a sterile group of Shields.”

  “So?”

  “I’ve wondered if all that really happened is that those scientists simply speeded up what might be a perfectly normal development process that’s going on in humans already. It might be a long-range trend that would, under normal conditions, take thousands of years to impact an entire population. The scientists who worked on your ancestors concentrated on one small element of that potential, the element they could use as a shield against prisma rays. But who knows how far that basic potential can go? Maybe the environment of Windarra somehow encourages development of that kind of mental ability in human beings.”

  Gryph shook his head in indulgent amusement. “What makes you say that?”

  “I’ve been wondering why that huge prisma ship was left here. You’ve said yourself there’s no record of such a large one being found before.”

  “The records could be wrong, you know. Don’t forget my people have been out of touch with their home world as long as yours have been from theirs. We don’t know what’s been happening with prisma elsewhere.”

  “True. But isn’t it just possible Windarra was special in some way? Perhaps it made a particularly good storage planet for mind weapons because there’s something in the environment here that favors that kind of development.”

  “Close your lovely mouth and eat your food, my love. Pregnancy is obviously affecting your usually admirable reasoning powers.”

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “Are you going to spend the rest of your life telling me to shut up?”

  “Are you kidding? If I devoted my time to a job that size I’d never get anything else done. Now eat up, sweetheart. You need your nourishment.”

  “Yes, Gryph.”

  Two months later little Gryphina Chassyn was born and the entire Shield class went into shock. Births were always an important event, but the birth of a female Shield was unheard of. Sariana and her baby had so many visitors Gryph was forced to hire extra household attendants just to handle the flow.

  Any doubts about the child’s parentage on the paternal side were immediately put to rest when visitors got a good look at the infant. Gryphina had brilliant blue-green eyes; Shield eyes. She also had her father’s dark hair.

  Even if some had questioned the coincidence of hair and eye color, no one could doubt the strength of the bond between Gryph and Sariana. It was obvious to everyone that Gryph was claiming his daughter. He would have been just as certain of that even if she hadn’t had his eyes and hair. He knew her mother too well and too intimately. The bond between Sariana and Gryph was stronger than prisma.

  “I’m exhausted,” Gryph had announced a few hours after the birth as he sat on his wife’s bed, holding his new daughter. “I had no idea it was going to be that rough. And you deliberately blocked most of it from me, didn’t you? I know you were fighting to keep from projecting. I told you to share it with me. As usual, you didn’t follow orders very well.”

 
“Yes, I know,” Sariana admitted. “But some things a woman likes to do on her own. Didn’t you get enough of a taste of it there toward the end?” she added with a tired but saucy grin. By that point I had lost all my noble, womanly fortitude. I seem to recall thinking you deserved a sample of what it was like.”

  Gryph laughed. “You’re right. That bit at the end was about all I could take. It was worth it though,” he added as he played with one tiny little fist. “She’s as beautiful as you are.

  “I know it was sort of a shock for you, Gryph.”

  “That we have a little girl? I should have known you would prove as unpredictable in the matter of making babies as you have in everything else. But what does it mean? Why us? Why now? Maybe you were right when you said that this planet was making some changes in all of us.”

  Sariana smiled at him, love in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter as long as we’ll be together to face those changes.”

  “Oh, we’ll be together,” Gryph assured her with the arrogant, unswerving conviction of a Shield. “You can count on it.”

  “Word of a Shield?” she teased softly.

  “The word of a Shield in love,” he clarified as he bent down to kiss her with infinite tenderness.

  THE END

  Excerpt from GIFT OF GOLD

  by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Chapter One

  The hunt was over. He’d been chasing her for two months and two thousand miles and he was finally closing in on his quarry. For the first time since the whole thing had started, Jonas Quarrel allowed himself the temporary pleasure of triumph mingled with anticipation.

  The Jeep ground its way along the rutted, unpaved road until it reached the edge of the lake. Jonas halted the dusty vehicle near a cluster of tall, swaying pines, switched off the engine, and sat for a moment behind the wheel. Then he opened the door and climbed out.

  He walked slowly to the water’s edge and stood gazing thoughtfully out over the expanse of Sequence Lake, the visual focal point of the little Northern California town of Sequence Springs. Jonas had been in the vicinity for a few days getting the feel of the place and planning his next move. Somewhat to his surprise, he had discovered he liked Sequence Springs and its lake.

  Ripples on the blue-green surface in front of him shimmered in the waning sun of a warm fall afternoon. The lake was ringed with a thick fringe of pine and fir. Most of what constituted Sequence Springs was on the opposite shore, a cheerful jumble of small shops, old gas stations, and aging houses. Here and there around the perimeter of the lake Jonas could see cabins hidden in the dark shelter of the trees.

  The whole place had a subtle air of being undiscovered and picturesque, Jonas decided. It wasn’t quite what he had been expecting, but then, he hadn’t really known what to expect two months ago when he’d begun his hunt for Verity Ames.

  At the far end of the lake an impressive, neoclassical structure painted a stark white caught the last rays of sunlight and reflected them back with almost blinding intensity. The building was unlike any other on the lake. Even from here it was obvious it had been designed to impress the viewer. The architect had clearly been given a free hand and he’d used it to create a self-consciously elegant facade that stressed arched doorways, colonnades, and courtyards. The Sequence Springs Spa Resort was as imposing and luxurious as any Renaissance villa.

  Almost lost in the trees not far from the resort stood two weatherbeaten cabins and a small building that housed a restaurant. The three structures presented a blithely irreverent contrast to the neighboring spa.

  From where he stood Jonas could see a couple of cars winding their way around the far side of the lake toward the gleaming white resort. The cars, Jonas knew, would be of the Porsche or BMW or Mercedes persuasion.

  It was Friday afternoon and the weekend crowd of stressed-out, upwardly mobile types from the San Francisco Bay Area were arriving for their fashionable fix of mud baths, mineral soaks, workouts, and massages.

  And after they had been through the spa’s luxurious torture program, they would be in the mood for expensive wine and gourmet food that could be eaten with a reasonably clear conscience. The resort offered carefully controlled, reasonably stylish cuisine. But a number of resort guests who were in the know would head for the cozy little restaurant located a short distance from the main resort facilities. The No Bull Cafe did a landslide business on the weekends serving elegant and expensive vegetarian cuisine.

  The No Bull was Jonas’s goal this afternoon. He had made his decision on how to close in on his quarry. She owned the cafe and had been advertising in the local paper for a combination dishwasher, waiter, and handyman.

  Jonas was presently unemployed and happened to be an expert in the field of dishwashing. Hell, he thought, he could have gotten his Ph.D. in the art if such a degree were offered. It would have been far more useful than the Ph.D. he had gotten in Renaissance history a few years back.

  He had never been certain if pursuing the kind of career the history degree had established for him would have killed him outright or just driven him insane. A sense of self-preservation had kept him from experimenting.

  Once upon a time, he had come very close to becoming a murderer because of his talent. He had decided then that the fascination of history was better left to those who had less affinity for it than he had.

  So he’d washed a lot of dishes in the last few years, mostly bar glasses. He’d also served a lot of liquor, which should have given him the skills of a waiter. And there was no doubt that he’d picked up a few skills as a handyman. He thought of the knife packed away in his duffel bag in the back of the Jeep…

  He was a real Renaissance man, he thought wryly. All the benefits of a classical education coupled with a lot of experience in the real world. What more could a potential employer ask? Four hundred years ago he wouldn’t have had any trouble at all getting work.

  His mouth was edged with a hint of laconic amusement as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and curled his long, lean fingers around a small circlet of gold. As soon as he touched it the earring seemed to warm his hand and a faint, tantalizing sensation that was both peaceful and pleasant and oddly anticipatory tingled deep within him.

  Jonas had discovered that the earring was as effective as a shot of tequila or a couple of bottles of beer when it came time to soften the rough edges of a hard day. He withdrew the tiny piece of feminine jewelry and examined it as it lay innocently in his palm.

  It wasn’t the first time he had looked at that earring and tried to fathom its compelling mystery. The truth was, he hadn’t let it get out of his reach in the two months he’d had it. Jonas felt distinctly possessive and protective toward the earring.

  The odd thing was that the possessive feeling extended to the woman who owned it, even though he had never met her. Somehow, in a way he couldn’t yet explain, she was part of his future. And it was now time to meet her.

  The compulsion to locate the owner of the golden earring had brought Jonas a couple of thousand miles from a Mexican waterfront bar to Sequence Springs. The distance he had traveled meant little to him. He would have come from the other side of the world to find the woman who owned it.

  He had gotten only a few brief glimpses of her the night she had lost the piece of jewelry, but he remembered well the copper fire of wild curls that framed huge eyes and a finely boned face. He recalled, too, her soft, slender, feminine shape in the golden light spilling through the open door of the cantina.

  She had never seen his face. Verity Ames had been too busy fleeing back to the safety of her hotel. He could still hear the echo of her high-heeled sandals disappearing into the darkness.

  It had taken Jonas a week to find out the name of the earring’s owner. In true Mexican tradition, money had crossed palms just to get that elemental piece of information. That had been the easy part. It had taken nearly two months to track her d
own to Sequence Springs, California. All the while the earring had burned in his pocket.

  When Jonas had picked up the tiny local newspaper he’d been pleased to find the ad for the position at the No Bull Cafe. It had seemed like fate. Working for someone was one hell of a good way to learn her secrets. And he badly needed to explore the mysteries of Verity Ames. His future was tied up with those mysteries.

  Jonas stood at the edge of the lake, his fingers moving absently on the earring, and wondered what it would be like to work for this flame-haired woman.

  One thing was certain, he decided: she was bound to be an easier proposition than some of his past employers. After all, she was small, female, and not yet thirty. How much trouble could she give him?

  Dishwashing at the No Bull Cafe was going to be a piece of cake.

  Verity Ames groaned in frustration when she heard the demanding knock on the locked front door of the No Bull. She put down the bottle of extra virgin olive oil she had been about to uncork and stalked out of the kitchen into the small dining area.

  “Too bad they don’t teach tourist to read signs,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her apron. “The American educational system is obviously failing somewhere.”

  Ever mindful of future business, however, Verity managed a polite smile as she unlocked the front door of the restaurant. She began speaking before she had the door more than halfway open.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a cheery tone, “we don’t open until five-thirty this evening. We stopped serving lunch at two. If you want to make reservations for tonight, you’re welcome to call. I should warn you, however, that we’re almost booked. The only time open is after nine o’clock.”

  “I’m not here for a meal,” said a male voice that was astonishingly dark and soft and faintly amused. “My name is Jonas Quarrel and I’m here for a job.”

  Verity had the door fully opened now and was already regretting her impulsiveness. She should have peeked through the window first.