Premonition: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 7)

by Valerie Mikles

  “Magistrate?” Deylyn asked.

  “I can handle him. Find these people. Make sure they don’t shoot anyone else,” Collette ordered. She climbed over Jeremiah and rooted through the nightstand to find the dry pills. She placed one on her tongue, then kissed it into his mouth. The dry countered both the wine and the aphrodisiac. It had an effervescent feel and dissolved quickly on their entwined tongues. The taste left much to be desired, but the resulting clear-headedness was striking.

  “Darling, look at me,” Collette said, clamping her hands on his cheeks. She wanted to be serious, but she also wanted to coat his body with hers. “Do you have any idea what has been going on out there? With the travelers?”

  Jeremiah’s fingers wiggled and he pointed toward the children’s wing.

  “They engaged? With Corin? We thought they’d left the Palace!” she exclaimed. Collette jumped from the bed, but Jeremiah grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t disturb them,” he said. “He’s happy. Let him be happy.”

  “How many are in there?” she asked.

  “Just one. And his usual ladies,” Jeremiah said.

  “His usual ladies. He collected a Fotri,” Collette realized.

  “Oh. Oh, my head,” Jeremiah groaned. “That Gossard. He has good candy. Oh, I’m so foggy.”

  “Dr. Gossard. He knows something. Did he talk to the visitors? Did you?” Collette asked. “Do you even remember?”

  “I remember. I talked to the girl. The premonition girl,” he panted. “Collette, you were right. She showed me this picture. A spirit. A physical spirit. She called it half-breed. That is what’s attacking us. Wings, claws. Flying wolf-creature.”

  Collette pressed her lips together, wishing for anything but confirmation of Dr. Gossard’s warning about a corporeal spirit. She hoped the two that had shot their way out of the Palace were on their way to kill that thing.

  “We have two injured service officers and a report that the travelers fired a weapon at them,” Collette said, catching him up on the situation. “Let’s see what Corin’s new friend knows.”

  Strutting down the hall, she listened outside Corin’s door, but didn’t hear anything. Bracing herself, she cracked open the door. A part of her feared she’d find her son dead, and another part feared she’d find a dead traveler and her son possessed by a spirit. But the bed was made and the room empty. Corin’s beaded Festival robe hung neatly on his closet door, making a clacking sound when the breeze came through the open window. Collette hit the emergency ring on the wall.

  “Security to the family wing,” she said, rubbing her chest and going out into the hall. Her heart raced, but she didn’t feel a premonition with the palpitations. She heard thundering footsteps, then Deylyn, Belgard, and two other officers charged down the hall.

  “Get the Prince of Health,” Deylyn ordered one of the juniors, picking up pace when he saw Collette wilting.

  “Collette!” Jeremiah cried, stumbling out of their bedroom when he heard the commotion.

  Collette pointed to Corin’s room. Belgard went in, weapon drawn, and Jeremiah peeked in behind.

  “He’s not here. They took him,” Collette said.

  “There’s no sign of struggle. It looks like he left of his own accord,” Deylyn said, confused by her distress. “I’ll double check the surveillance to verify.”

  “Contact the Prince of Law. Tell him to find Corin and get him back here. Get those Fotri away from my son!” Collette demanded, balling her fists.

  “With pleasure, Magistrate,” Belgard said, a creepy smile curling his lips.

  Collette’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared. How dare he take pleasure in her son’s pain! “Clear this venue,” she snapped at him.

  “No,” Jeremiah protested. “Collette, you’re over-reacting. It is safer for the guests to stay here. They expect breakfast from us.”

  Collette bristled, feeling betrayed. He was contradicting her over a breakfast!

  “I can tell the kitchen to stop wine service early,” Deylyn said. “It’s only two hours until our post-Festival health check.”

  “There have been two attacks and one confirmed sighting of a corporeal spirit in the city,” Collette recounted. “There’s at least one cursed among the travelers, and two of them shot their way out of the Palace. Stop trying to pretend we can carry on as normal. Festival poisoning and firearms are a recipe for disaster.”

  “Throwing a bunch of party guests into the street in the middle of the night is not the solution,” Jeremiah reasoned. “We’ll find these people. They have information about corporeal spirits. Let’s stop stalling for Festival and get them to the table.”

  “Fine. We will retrieve them peacefully,” Collette said disdainfully. With no threat on this floor, she dismissed the officers, then snatched her husband’s arm and pushed him back toward their room. “Bed. Now. I am going to punish you for contradicting me.”

  Jeremiah laughed in delight at the prospect.

  23

  Amanda kept one hand pressed to her belly as she walked briskly through the streets. The fallen beads from people’s festive clothing sparkled as the lamplight gave way to the glow of morning. She’d thrown her trench coat over her green and white dress and had on boots so she could move quickly. She knew one thing for certain now—it wasn’t Galen she sensed. She’d tried tapping into his healing power, but there was no healing to be had. She kept checking for teleportation, too, but it looked like she’d have to find this half-breed on foot.

  “Getting close,” she murmured, peering into the windows of the houses as she passed. Most had tiny lights running across the baseboards, and she assumed it was to help the drunks find their beds. She’d stepped over more than a few passed out partiers and had to duck out of sight when the service officers came to help them home. This was a strange holiday.

  One house had all the curtains drawn, and when Amanda looked at it, she felt struck by hunger and weakness like she hadn’t felt in months. She checked up and down the street, then pried open the window and climbed inside.

  She heard a screech, and then strong, pointed claws slashed at her legs, shredding the bottom of her skirt. Her boots took some of the damage. Amanda kicked and rolled, drawing a shiv from her wrist sheath in the same motion. She spun around, slashing low, but her attacker dodged. A tall, bony teenager crouched on the floor, ducking her face into her elbows. One of her hands had morphed into something alien with long, spindly talons, but the rest of her arm still looked human. Her claws were splayed, but they were a weapon she did not know how to use. Her wrists and feet were bound, and Amanda realized the teen had only been able to attack because she’d been stepped on.

  This was her half-breed.

  “Are you okay?” Amanda asked, switching to Moonspeak. The words only carried half the meaning. The girl would have to create a mental link for there to be any understanding between them.

  The girl flicked her long tongue at Amanda. She did not have a long, jackal-like face like Galen did, but her cheeks were stretched in a way that hinted that the change was coming.

  “Is this place booby-trapped?” Amanda asked. She opened herself for a mental connection, but she felt no power echoing back. Her leg was bleeding, and now that she’d found the half-breed, she didn’t know what to do next. She hoped if she set the girl free, she could get some healing on her leg.

  The girl seemed nervous when Amanda squatted next to her, but pangs of pain and hunger radiated through the air. The half-breed was too weak to fight. Using her shiv, Amanda started sawing through the bonds. They were thick, wool fibers, reinforced with metal threads.

  The front door opened, and Amanda dove for the window. The drapes got in her way and she slashed at them.

  “Amanda,” Danny whispered, activating a light. The house looked surprisingly normal, despite the sickly prisoner.

  “She’s a half-breed,” Amanda said. The girl’s fingers pumped, showing off the alien hand, and she hissed at Danny, but could not break
free.

  “Great. You were right. I was wrong. Let’s go,” Danny said, motioning her to the door.

  “She’s tied up,” Sky said, peeking through the door. Sky had a soft spot for prisoners.

  “Which means she won’t follow us,” Danny said, inching closer until he could grab Amanda by the elbow. He froze when he saw the blood on her dress. “Is that… cat blood?”

  “Flesh wound,” Amanda said, lifting the strips of skirt to show him the gash. Using the shiv, she quickly turned one of the ragged edges of her dress into a bandage. “I can’t cut her bonds. There’s metal in the rope. I’m going to free her.”

  Sky offered her grav-gun but didn’t come through the front door. Amanda worried that the light leaking into the street would draw attention, but Sky had other concerns about approaching spirit-kind. Using small pulses of gravity, Amanda pulverized the rope, leaving only minor bruises on the girl’s wrists.

  “Okay. She’s free. Let’s go,” Danny said.

  Amanda shook her head. She’d freed the half-breed, but rather than touching her wrists, the girl touched her shoulders. Her wings. “My wings hurt,” Amanda said, echoing the feeling she’d had before running out of the Palace. “Can you see her wings?”

  “Sometimes,” Danny said. “They’re bound with something.”

  “Half-breeds feed by absorbing spirit-realm energy through their wings. She’s hungry,” Amanda said. “Danny, we can’t leave her.”

  “But,” Danny sputtered in protest. “Okay, we’ll try.”

  He started reaching out, but then decided he didn’t want to touch the girl. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

  The girl eyed him warily and ran her tongue along the inside of her elongated jaw. Amanda wondered if she could speak with her face changing shape.

  “Layna,” Sky said, covering her ears and dropping to her knees. “That’s her name.”

  “She talked to you?” Amanda asked, relieved the girl had made a connection with someone.

  “I hear her… in my soul,” Sky said. “When she makes that hissing sound, I hear… something. Not words. Just … something.”

  Layna scratched at her bound wings with her taloned fingers, then fainted.

  “I wonder if she’s the one the doctor told you about,” Danny said. “Amanda, you’re not hearing her?”

  “I feel her hunger and her pain, but I’m not hearing words. I can’t even get her to use Moonspeak,” Amanda said.

  “Well, she’s not from the moon, is she? She probably speaks the local language,” Danny said.

  “Haren said leave,” Sky said, looking nervously outside. “The Magistrate will try to kill us if we get messed up in this. He said to leave before morning.”

  “Well someone sure complicated that when she shot her way out of the Palace.” Danny tapped a message on his Virp and Amanda felt her wrist vibrate as the warning was broadcast to the rest of the crew.

  “Morrigan’s on the ship. Sky, get Amanda to the ship,” Danny said.

  “And Layna,” Amanda insisted, testing to see if her fingers could touch Layna’s wings. She felt something wire-like around them, and when she tried to get her finger under, it cut into her skin.

  “We can’t kidnap a half-breed. At the very least, we need to be able to ask her if she wants to go,” Danny said. “Sky, once Amanda is secure, if I don’t have the others—”

  “I’m a target here. I can’t come in and out to save the rest of you,” Sky said. “They aren’t concerned about hybrids. They’re specifically killing spirit-carriers. They think we brought Oriana to the city. It’s all so hazy. I think Haren gave me something like Hyproxin, but it only lasted a few minutes. Long enough for him to warn me.”

  “Which means he knows what you are,” Danny said. “Find a way out. Go.”

  “I’m not leaving Layna,” Amanda said. “Danny, go get the others. Sky, I could really use your help talking to this girl.”

  Tray sprawled happily on the king-sized bed with the soft wool sheets, wondering again why he’d left a life of luxury to trawl about the world on an old junker with his big brother. Saskia purred lightly as she stirred, leaving a trail of kisses across his bare chest, and he watched with a stupid grin plastered on his face. The morning sunlight peeked through the window, catching traces of glitter on her skin. Last night was clouded in aphrodisiacs and inhibition-reducing liquor, but it felt like the honeymoon before the wedding. He twisted the ring on his finger and smiled again, tingling at the memory of her sliding it on as she agreed to marry him.

  “Bring me breakfast?” Saskia asked. Breakfast in bed! Tray shivered with glee as he pushed the covers aside. With a kiss on her lips he skipped out the door to the sitting area, where a cart of fresh fruits, creams, and breads had arrived. Tray picked up a plate and started putting a meal together for Saskia. This was the sweet life.

  The bed Danny was supposed to be lying in had nothing but a twist of bloody sheets. Tray didn’t see his brother or Amanda, but there was a stranger sitting on the couch, watching him.

  “Holy Zive!” he cried, tossing the plate in the air. Saskia was in the room in a heartbeat, weapon pointed at the stranger. A gaunt, pale man reclined on the couch, reading from a tablet and chewing on a pastry. He jumped to his feet when he saw Tray, hastily wiped away the powdered sugar, and fumbled for a gun. Tray couldn’t tell if it was a projectile or energy weapon, but he didn’t like that it was pointed at him.

  “You are Questre,” the man said in thickly accented Trade.

  “What? No. What?” Tray sputtered.

  “You called her Zive. That is a spirit name,” he said. “You did bring a spirit.”

  “No. It’s just a phrase. I wasn’t actually trying to summon a spirit. Saskia is my protector.” Tray held up his hands and moved closer to Saskia, and though Saskia lowered her weapon, she didn’t let her guard down.

  “Please surrender your weapons,” the man said.

  “What are you doing here? Is the Magistrate ready to see us so soon?” Tray rubbed the stubble on his chin, preparing a tirade about privacy, decency, and visiting hours. He wondered where the others had gotten off to, and wished he’d pulled some pants on before coming into the main room.

  “I am Officer Deylyn. I was sent to monitor you. We are gathering your crew. They have violated our agreement and left the Palace grounds,” he said.

  “You drugged us without our consent. You can’t expect us to behave rationally or diplomatically,” Tray said, feeling his blood pressure rising as the residual drugs heightened his emotions. He checked the other rooms and nearly vomited at the bloody towels in the bathroom. “Why is there blood here? Was someone hurt?”

  “Surrender your weapons. You will stay here until your people can be corralled and dealt with,” Deylyn said.

  “Dealt with?” Tray repeated angrily. He scratched his bare legs and scanned the room for his shoes. He wasn’t prepared to fight, run, or be taken hostage. Of course, any kind of warning before being taken hostage usually resulted in a concerted effort to avoid that outcome.

  “Let’s go back to bed, baby,” Saskia said, running her fingers down his arm.

  “Did you ever intend to trade with us?” Tray asked, getting more upset by the moment.

  “Tray—”

  “Where’s Danny?” Tray demanded. “He wouldn’t abandon me.”

  His thoughts were in turmoil, and he couldn’t remember what he was shouting about, only that he couldn’t get himself to stop. He ran out of air and his vision went dark. The second time he woke up in the luxurious king-sized bed, his body was sticky with sweat.

  “Saskia,” he croaked, feeling for her hand. His body was on fire.

  “Tray. I dreamt we were hostages,” she said, rolling off the side of the bed and looking for her stunner.

  “I did, too.”

  The door opened and Officer Deylyn glanced in.

  “This isn’t a show! Get out!” Tray hollered, throwing a pillow at the ma
n. He was still swinging from angry to hysterical, and now he was hungry on top of that. This time, he put on pants, and he grabbed his Feather.

  “Danny, there’s a scary man here keeping us from leaving the room,” Tray said, throwing his new clothes on the floor, resenting them. He still felt like he was under the influence of the wine. The intensity of the emotions felt just as strong as last night, but the haze of drunkenness had lifted, and he was more keenly aware of how irrational his racing thoughts were.

  “Just one?” Danny asked.

  “Where are you? Why did you leave me?” Tray asked. A well of emotions burst, and Tray felt himself crying tears for the abandonment issues he thought he’d already dealt with. He hid his face from Saskia. His stomach was cramping from hunger.

  “Had people to rescue. Is Saskia with you?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Danny, I feel like my brain is on fire. I can’t think straight. You have to come back for me. You promised you would,” Tray whimpered.

  “Tray, my brain is on fire, too. My whole body,” Danny said. “There’s Detox on the ship. Do you still have a weapon?”

  “I have Saskia,” Tray said, glancing over his shoulder. They’d taken one of her stunners, but Saskia had several more with her. She stroked his cheek and kissed his temple, but that didn’t make him feel calmer.

  “The two of you need to get back to the ship. Use force if you have to,” Danny said.

  “Force? Why? What happened?” Tray said. “Did they find out about—”

  “Amanda found her half-breed. Sky shot someone. Just get back to the ship,” he said tersely.

  “I saw blood on your bed. Lots of blood,” Tray said.

  “No one’s dead,” Danny said. “Turns out catamenses is a side effect of their drugs, and it’s not pretty. Get to the ship. Morrigan is already there.”

  “We shouldn’t wait for the rest of you to be corralled back here?” Tray asked.