The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga

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The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga Page 9

by Laura Jo Phillips


  “She didn’t strike me as a thoughtless or cold hearted child,” Hunt said. “I cannot believe that she would be unconcerned about her parents divorcing.”

  “Neither can I,” Vikter said. “Besides, she specifically said that Michael was going to marry someone else.”

  “That’s right, she did,” Lance said, even more confused now than before. “In that case, I think it’s safe to assume he won’t die, which is good as I think we need him and his talents on our side against the Xanti. Still, why wouldn’t she be upset at the idea of her parents ending their marriage?”

  “Who says they will?” Vikter asked. He straightened up and turned to face his brothers. “Maybe they aren’t really married. Tell me, what do the words Mana and Dodi mean?”

  “Those are the words Nica uses for her parents,” Lance said.

  “Those are the words she uses for Honey and Michael,” Vikter corrected. “No one ever said they meant mother and father, did they?”

  “They might have, and we don’t know it,” Hunt said.

  “True,” Vikter said. “I still think we should try to find out. Just out of curiosity.”

  Lance reached for his hand terminal and began pressing buttons. He frowned, then pressed more buttons. After several minutes he sighed and shook his head. “I can’t find any relevant meaning for those words in any language,” he said.

  “That’s interesting,” Vikter said.

  “I think I know where you’re going with this,” Lance said. “But I have to remind you that Michael specifically introduced Monica to us as his daughter.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Vikter replied. “I asked him if the child was his daughter, and he said she was his little angel.”

  “No, that’s not completely accurate,” Hunt said. “He said yes, and then he said she was his little angel.”

  “That’s true, but I still think he hedged a little,” Vikter insisted. “Besides, have you ever heard the Bearens refer to Harlan, Matt or Weld as anything other than their sons?”

  “Are you suggesting that Michael and Honey adopted Nica?” Lance asked. “Because I have to remind you that the physical resemblance between Nica, Honey, and Arima Berta is quite strong.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Vikter agreed. “There does appear to be a real familial connection between them.”

  “And don’t forget that the child obviously has a psychic talent,” Hunt said. “She is probably a berezi like Honey and Arima Berta.”

  “True,” Vikter conceded. “But that doesn’t mean they are mother and daughter.”

  “Let’s assume you are correct and the relationship between the three of them is not what they portray,” Lance said. “My question is, why? Why would they pretend to be what they are not?”

  “Fear of persecution,” Hunt said. Vikter and Lance both stared at him in surprise. “Michael said his abilities were something that the Teriens didn’t approve of, and we all know how upset Honey was to learn that we knew of them. They both said plainly that if it got back to the Terians, it would be enough to ruin their lives.”

  “If the Teriens are so against psychic ability,” Vikter said, “what must it be like to try to hide Nica’s talents? Remember, she said she wasn’t supposed to talk about it. That must be why.”

  “It makes me angry to think of that child being forced to repress a natural part of herself for such a reason,” Hunt said.

  “Yes, me too,” Vikter agreed. “Lance, I think it might be wise to do some research on Terien, in particular their beliefs and customs. Lets see what they do, and do not, approve of.”

  “And what they do to those who don’t fall in line with those beliefs,” Lance said, frowning. “I’ll begin right away.”

  “No, not just yet,” Vikter said. “I don’t know about you two, but knowing that our Arima belongs to another man does not stop my body from reacting to her. I need a good long run.”

  ***

  Lariah stood in the doorway leading out to the garden and gazed up at the stars. The children were all asleep, though she knew the boys would awaken in another hour for a feeding. At the moment the house was quiet and peaceful. Two large shapes blocked her view of the stars as they flew over the house and she smiled. Watching her men during their nightly flight always reminded her of her first days on the ranch, before she became a dracon herself.

  “Are you feeling all right this evening, my heart?” Val asked, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her neck.

  Lariah tilted her head slightly, humming with pleasure. She turned around and stretched up to kiss him lightly as Garen and Trey landed in the garden behind her.

  “I just have something I want to discuss with you guys,” she admitted when she knew they could all hear her.

  “Inside or out?” Trey asked from just behind her.

  “Inside, please,” she said. “It’s getting chilly out.”

  “Yes, winter isn’t far away,” Garen said, following the rest of them into their bedroom and closing the garden door behind him. “So what’s on your mind, sharali?”

  While Lariah told them about her visit with Hope that morning, and the message from Aisling, Trey lit a fire in the fireplace and Val guided her to a chair near it.

  “Our conclusion is that we should do as Aisling requests, and think about, and discuss, the issue of war with the Narrasti,” she finished.

  “Do you believe we should leave the Narrasti in peace?” Garen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lariah replied. “I haven’t made up my mind, which is why I want us to discuss it.”

  “The Narrasti destroyed our world,” Val reminded her.

  “Summer Katre doesn’t think so,” Lariah pointed out. “Did you ever get the information you sent to Sheara 3 for?”

  “We did,” Trey replied. “It supports Summer’s theory, but we are not entirely convinced of it. The ancients had magic far stronger than ours. How do we know that they were incapable of causing an explosion?”

  “We have thousands of years of war with the Narrasti to support our belief that we destroyed each others’ worlds,” Garen said. “We have no reason whatsoever to believe that someone else did it, nor any evidence of a third party.”

  “I see your point,” Lariah admitted. “But is war against the Narrasti really the right thing to do? Aren’t the Xanti a bigger threat right now?”

  “The Narrasti, and their human descendents, the Brethren, are in league with the Xanti,” Trey pointed out. “Eliminating them will allow us to focus on the Xanti.”

  “Fighting the Xanti first might convince the Narrasti that war with us is not a good idea and they’ll leave us in peace,” Lariah suggested.

  “Sharali, I don’t understand,” Garen said. “Why are you on the side of the Narrasti in this? Not only were the Narrasti behind the attack on you that nearly cost you your life, they were also directly responsible for the death of Ellicia.”

  “No, they weren’t,” Lariah said, tamping down the grief she always felt when she thought of her sister. “The Brethren are the ones who kidnapped Hope, Berta and the others, and the Brethren were responsible for what happened to Ellicia.”

  “The Brethren are Narrasti,” Val said.

  “They are part human and part Narrasti,” Lariah argued. “You cannot call them Narrasti just because somewhere in their ancestry there was a Narrasti any more than you can call a berezi Clan Jasani.”

  “True,” Garen conceded. “But it cannot be argued that the Brethren are in league with the Narrasti. It was the Narrasti that rescued them from Earth.”

  “And how did they do that?” Lariah asked. “I seem to recall being told that it was a Xanti ship in Earth space at the time of the rescue.”

  “Proving that they are all in league with the Xanti,” Val said.

  “Proving that some are in league with the Xanti,” Lariah corrected.

  “Again, true,” Garen said. “But what difference does any of this make? There can be no argument th
at the Narrasti were behind the attack on you, Lariah, and that alone makes them our enemies.”

  “Garen, my love, Stephan Loggia was behind my abduction and torture on Earth,” Lariah said gently. “Does that mean that you consider all humans, or even just all of those who live on Earth, your enemies as well?”

  Garen sighed. He did not want to admit it, but she did have a point. “Do you believe that we should make peace with the Narrasti?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lariah replied. “As you’ve pointed out, I have reasons to despise both the Narrasti and the Brethren. But Aisling’s request reminded me that, according to the prophecy, and The Nine, I have a responsibility to consider these things carefully for the good of all Clan Jasani. I only wanted to do as Aisling requested, and discuss the matter with you. The problem is that the more we talk, the more I wonder if sending a task force to Onddo for the single purpose of destroying them is the right thing to do.”

  “You’ve made some good points, little love,” Trey said. “I cannot argue with that. But if we leave them be and focus on the Xanti, we leave an enemy at our backs. Knowing that, I cannot see a reason not to destroy them.”

  Day Three

  When Honey opened the door the next morning in answer to the ringing of the doorbell, she was expecting to see the man who had driven Michael to the garrison the morning before. Instead, Vikter, Lance, and Hunt Vulpiran stood on the doorstep.

  “Good morning, Dr. Davis,” Vikter said as they all bowed briefly.

  “Good morning, Consul Vulpiran,” she replied, not knowing if she should address each of them individually, or if that was sufficient. Vikter Vulpiran smiled. “We would be pleased if you would call us by our given names,” he said. “It would, perhaps, save us all a bit of confusion.”

  “I will, if you will call me Honey,” she said, standing back and gesturing for them to enter.

  “We did not intend to interrupt your breakfast,” Vikter said as they stepped into the large, circular entryway. “We meant only to leave you the ignition card for the ground-car we’ve brought for you, and to pick up Michael.”

  “Thank you,” Honey said, accepting the card. “Come on in and sit down,” she invited them. “Michael is running a little late this morning. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” Vikter said, following her across the entryway into the dining room where they took seats at the big round table. “Is Michael recovered?”

  Honey went into the kitchen and returned with three more coffee cups. “I think so,” she said as she filled the cups from the pot on the table and passed them around. “He woke up around eleven last night and ate a huge dinner. Then slept a bit later than usual this morning. He seems fine though.”

  “Should we take him back to see Doc?” Lance asked. “We would not want him to suffer any ill effects from what he did yesterday.”

  “We appreciate that,” she said. “I think he’s all right, but if you think Doc should see him again, then maybe he should.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him today,” Vikter said. “If we see anything that seems abnormal, we’ll take him to see Doc at once, and we’ll vox you as well.”

  As he said that, Vikter pulled a vox from his pocket and held it out toward her. “This is for you, Honey,” he said. “We’ve another one for Michael, and we’ve already entered your codes for each other, as well as our own, the Falcorans, Arima House, the Bearens, the Research Center, the infirmary, and several other places on the ranch that we thought you might need.”

  “Again, thank you,” Honey said reaching for the vox. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

  As she picked the vox up from the palm of Vikter’s hand, her fingertips brushed his skin. An electric thrill rushed through her body from her fingertips to her toes and she gasped softly. Her eyes flew up to Vikter’s, and she knew that he had felt the same thing, and was just as surprised by it as she was. And just as aroused. She shivered, her skin pebbling as though she was cold when she actually felt quite warm all of a sudden. She picked up the vox and jerked her hand back.

  Her face heated as she struggled for something ordinary to say. Luckily, Nica chose that moment to bounce into the room with a squeal of delight.

  “Good morning Mr. Foxes,” she said happily. “Are you eating breakfast with us today?”

  Vikter was happy to have the distraction. Otherwise, he feared he would do or say something that would be completely dishonorable.

  “Good morning to you, Nica,” he said. “I’m afraid we cannot stay for breakfast. We are here to pick up your father for work.”

  “Oh,” Nica replied, her pixie face falling with disappointment. But she was a happy child, and there was little that could keep her down for long. “Dodi is almost dressed. He was putting on his shoes but he was being growly cause he got a knot in his shoelace and couldn’t get it out so he changed to his loafers but he wanted different socks and he couldn’t find them so now he’s trying to get the knot out again and said I should go eat cause I was ’stracting him.”

  Vikter, Lance and Hunt grinned at this little speech, though Honey blushed. “All right, little Miss Blabbermouth,” she said. “Get up here and eat your breakfast.”

  “Okay,” Nica said. She climbed onto a chair and Honey put a bowl of hot cereal in front of her. “Mana,” Nica said as she picked up her spoon. “Are we going to Auntie Berta’s today?”

  “I don’t know yet, Sweetie,” Honey replied, pouring a glass of juice for Nica. “Why do you ask?”

  “Cause Auntie Berta said she would take me to her friend whose name is Doc but is still nice and doesn’t hurt little girls and that he could make my hair long again.”

  Vikter saw the shadow cross Honey’s face, and wondered at it. He looked back to Nica, and saw the same shadow in her eyes. His protective instincts rose up so quickly they nearly took his breath away. Whoever had put that shadow in their eyes was very lucky to be absent from his immediate vicinity.

  “Really?” Honey asked as she took a seat between Nica and Hunt.

  Nica nodded. “She said he did it for her and it doesn’t hurt. So can I?”

  “Nica, what did you tell Aunt Berta?” Honey asked in a calm voice, though Vikter noticed that her hands were shaking as she wrapped them around her coffee cup. He felt her worry, and her fear, which increased his protective instincts and made him even more tense. He glanced at Hunt and Lance and saw that they were struggling as he was, though he didn’t think anyone else would notice it.

  “I told her that Genny Davis chopped it off ‘cause she got mad at me for lying, even though I didn’t lie,” Nica said in a small voice. “Was that bad of me, Mana?”

  “No, baby, that wasn’t bad of you,” Honey said, releasing her coffee cup with one hand to gently stroke Nica’s short, dark hair.

  Vikter had his teeth clenched so tightly he feared his teeth would crack, but it was no good. He had to ask. “I apologize for listening to a private conversation. Did she say someone cut her hair as a punishment?”

  Honey sensed the tension from all three of the Vulpirans, and knew it was because of what Nica had said. She had spent most of her life hiding her talents, and the past few years struggling to hide Nica’s, but for some reason she found that she wanted to tell them the truth about this.

  “Yes,” she said before she could talk herself out of it. Michael had decided to trust these men, so she would, too. “Michael’s mother doesn’t care for me, or Nica. She knows we both have psychic talents, which she finds extremely offensive. About six months ago, Nica told her that we were going to move to Earth, before we knew anything about it. So Genny picked up a pair of scissors and cut off Nica’s braid. I had gone into the other room for just a moment, but it was more than enough time.”

  “What a disgusting thing to do to anyone, let alone a child,” Hunt growled.

  “Yes, I thought so too,” Honey said. “Michael was furious with his mother when he found out about it. He hasn’t seen or spoken to h
er since.”

  “You feel badly about that,” Lance observed.

  “Yes, I do,” she admitted. “She’s the only family he has, aside from us. It bothers me that there’s such a rift between them because of me and Nica.”

  “The rift is not because of you and Nica,” Michael said, entering the kitchen. “It’s because of her. Besides, if she knew about my psychic talent, she’d likely never want to speak to me again anyway.” He leaned down to kiss the top of Nica’s head. “Why are we discussing her anyway?” he asked with a smile. “It’s a beautiful day out and should not be spoiled by unfortunate memories.”

  “Aunt Berta told Nica that Doc can make her hair long again,” Honey explained, watching Michael take the chair on the other side of Nica and pour himself some coffee. She got up and retrieved his plate from the food warmer and set it before him, then offered more coffee to the Vulpirans while she spoke. “Nica wanted to know if she could do it.”

  “Do you know anything about the process?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t,” Honey replied. “I’ll find out, and if it’s safe, then of course we’ll do it if that’s what Nica wants.”

  “It is what I want, Mana,” Nica said between bites of cereal. “Is it okay with you, Dodi?” she asked.

  “As long as Honey says it’s safe, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Michael replied.

  Vikter noticed that when Michael spoke of Honey to Nica, he referred to her as Honey rather than Mommy or Mother, which seemed strange. “May I ask, what do the words Mana and Dodi mean?” he asked.

  Michael, Honey and Nica all froze for a single heartbeat, their eyes flying to Vikter, then shifting away just as quickly before they resumed eating.

  “They’re just the names that Nica calls us,” Honey said without looking up from her coffee cup. “Michael, the Vulpirans were kind enough to bring a ground-car for us to use, and a vox for each of us,” she said, changing the subject.

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Michael said, looking relieved, though nervous. “I think I’m finished now,” he said as he pushed his plate back and stood up. “I ate so much last night that I’ve no appetite this morning.”

 

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