The Starlight Rite

by Cherise Sinclair

  He felt a presence beside him. Yorest, eyes half-lidded, mouth curving. The fussy butler had perhaps smiled twice in his entire lifetime. One of those times had been when Dain was appointed head of Planetary Security. Here was a third.

  They simply stood and listened to the song as it drifted down the hall. When silence fell, Yorest nodded to Dain and disappeared.

  Dain walked over to the door. Looking into Rebli’s room, he saw the little girl had fallen asleep, snuggled in the Earther’s arms as if she’d found warmth in a cold world.

  * * *

  She’d actually been singing. Mella stood in the center of her bedroom and shook her head. She’d tried to sing once or twice during the past year, but nothing had come out. It was as if her mourning had cut her throat and let all the music bleed away. But tonight she hadn’t even thought twice about singing a lullaby to Rebli.

  After stepping out of her fancy green slippers, she started on the tiny hooks running down the front of her new gown. Singing had felt…good. Like she’d stood only on one foot for a year and now had two. Had achieved a little balance.

  But how totally stupid had it been to sing at all? Thank heavens Dain obviously hadn’t recognized her voice. Far too many people would, she knew, even here on this benighted planet, where the clan leaders regulated recorded music and vids.

  She felt him a second before he moved behind her, and she froze. The man walked much too quietly.

  “You have a lovely voice.” Dain kissed her nape and sent goose bumps down her arms.

  “Thank you.” Her fingers hesitated on the hooks. She’d thought she was alone. But now…

  “Do you need help, laria?” Leaning against her back, he reached around and, with very skillful fingers, unhooked her gown until the sides flapped open, exposing her breast binder. No panties. He ran his hand over her bare stomach and down to cup her mound. She inhaled, feeling her traitorous body waken.

  His other hand curved under her breast over the binder. When he nipped her earlobe, she jumped, even as excitement ran through her. And with his hand between her legs, he must feel how she dampened. His arm locked her against him as his fingers slid lower, separating her slick folds to stroke her clit.

  Throbbing grew inside her to an urgent heat. Her legs began to quiver, and her breathing grew more rapid. Just that easily, he’d made her want him. Made her want to couple. Humiliation followed the thought yet didn’t decrease the excitement growing inside her.

  “The ice appears to be cracking,” he murmured. His lips against her shoulder made her shudder with need. Ignoring her murmur of protest, he stripped off her gown, then pulled her binder off. When she reached for her nightgown, he caught her hand. “You won’t need that.”

  Cupping her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark pools. “Get on the bed, laria. Wait for me on your hands and knees.”

  “But—”

  His lips curved into a hard smile. “You do not have permission to speak. I want to hear nothing from you except whimpers.”

  Chapter Eight

  Three days later, Dain took a solacar into Port City. The car hummed past fields greening with new plantings. Spring was a beautiful time on Nexus.

  Mella hadn’t wanted to come into the city. Odd that. Most women he knew preferred the bustle of the city to enclave life, at least now and then. But Mella had hidden places in her—unhappy ones she hadn’t shared with him. Yet.

  Much of the fear had disappeared from her eyes over the past few days. Not all, though. His mouth tightened as he remembered the terror that flashed across her face at times. No woman should be afraid, not even a thieving one. Although he had to admit, a woman stranded on an unfamiliar planet might have more reason to fear than most.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a relix freeze. The lizard darted forward almost too fast to follow and caught a flutter in its pointy mouth. As it scrabbled back into the underbrush, Dain tapped the steering wheel. Dangers filled the world. But what exactly was the Earther afraid of?

  She appeared to be adapting to enclave life. Although she avoided his family and other clan members as if they might bite her—not unreasonable, considering the way his mother had acted—she spent time with the servants. The staff had taken to her. He grinned, remembering the floppy hat Quenoll had given her and how adorable she’d looked in it. Dirt smudged across one cheek, scratches on her arms from weeding the sun garden with the old gardener, new freckles on her pale skin, and happiness in her big green eyes.

  Dain smiled. He had competition for her favors—an old man approaching the century mark. The sight of the little thief looking so content pleased him.

  Her attitude toward shulin had eased, and she welcomed his attentions, even becoming more assertive about what she liked, as her experience grew.

  She still shocked easily, though, didn’t she?

  Yesterday in the garden, she’d demanded a lower undergarment that she called panties. After motioning for the gardener and apprentice to leave, Dain had flipped up her skirt, bent her over the stone bench, and demonstrated why he permitted neither underwear nor trousers on his unshuline.

  For the rest of the day, she’d blushed every time she looked at him. By Cernun, she was sweet.

  Dain slowed the car to allow a herd of deerlets to flow across the road in graceful leaps. Two more curves and he’d reached the outskirts of Port City.

  The small city enclaves gave way to the businesses that crowded the port, and a slight distance farther stood the Planetary Defense and Planetary Security buildings. The Council of Five had requested his time and oversight on the investigation of a ship that had been blown apart in the port. Once the identity of the ship’s famous owner became known, pressure had increased to find the culprit responsible.

  What a mess.

  * * *

  “You don’t have to work like that, you know.”

  Kneeling in a flower bed, Mella jumped at the sound of the soft voice, and the thorny bush scratched down her arm. She gritted her teeth at the stinging pain and turned.

  Beside the tiny altar, a woman about Mella’s age stood in the entrance to the blue garden. Gemstones woven into the woman’s braided black hair sparkled in the sunlight. Mella grimaced. Another tall, slender Nexan woman—didn’t they have any small, pudgy ones like her?

  Miss Incredibly Gorgeous rushed forward. “You’re bleeding. Oh, sweet Herina, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” From the fineness of the pale blue skirt and silky green tunic, the woman must be one of the Zarain family, not a servant.

  “It’s nothing,” Mella said, flushing and uncomfortably aware of the indenture bracelets on her sunburned arms. Over the past week, she’d avoided Dain’s family. Dain hadn’t noticed. He stayed so busy, she never saw him outside of the evenings. Apparently her luck had run out.

  The woman pulled the scarf from around her neck, wet it in the splashing fountain, and tied the fabric around Mella’s forearm. “There, that will do until Ida can put some of her special salve on it. Considering how often Wardain manages to slice himself up, I’ve had a lot of experience using it.”

  Wardain. She’d heard that name before. Heavens, the boy who’d cut himself on his daddy’s sword. Dain’s nephew. She’d seen him running around the gardens with the two little girls trailing after him, or indulging in mock fights with some of the other clan children. Then this must be Dain’s sister.

  “Thank you,” Mella said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to the house and take care of my arm.” Mella forced a smile onto her face, hoping to escape before the bracelets registered. She doubted that this finely dressed woman would behave any nicer to an unshuline than her mother.

  “I’m Felaina. And you are Mella?”

  Mella glanced at the bright bracelets and sighed. Like any other unshuline lived here? “That’s right.” Mella pushed to her feet and nodded her farewell. “Good day.”

  “Wait.” The woman’s frown looked just like Dain’s, and a funny feelin
g tickled Mella’s throat. “Did I do something to offend you?”

  “I’m an unshuline.”

  “Well, yes, I know that.” Felaina settled onto the stone bench and smoothed her skirt. “You helped Rebli when I took Wardain to the hospital.”

  Eyeing her warily, Mella nodded.

  “I wanted to thank you.”

  “It was nothing. I was pleased to help,” Mella said stiffly.

  “You seem to like to help a lot. Ida says you assist in the kitchen; Quenoll says you’re out in the gardens every day.” Felaina tilted her head. “Did anyone tell you an unshuline isn’t expected to do servant work?”

  Did that mean she couldn’t work anymore? As Mella thought of the long, useless days, her hands fisted at her sides. “I’m sorry if I bothered—”

  “By Mardun’s sword, you’re taking everything I say wrong.” Felaina scowled. “Ida and Quenoll love having you help, and you’re allowed to do anything you…” She stopped and burst into laughter. “You should see your face. Like I was a parogan that pecked your nose.”

  “Well…” What kind of a conversation was this? “Then you don’t mind if I help out?”

  “Of course not. As long as you realize it’s not required.” Dain’s sister grinned. “Dain said you’re from Earth and don’t know our customs. Sometimes he’s so terse… I just wanted to make sure someone had told you.”

  The expression on Felaina’s face seemed as far from contemptuous as could be. Mella knelt back down in the soft grass. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m oversensitive.”

  “Not surprising.” Felaina’s voice softened. “I daresay Earthers wouldn’t approve of unshulines at all.”

  “Well, no.” Whips and stones would be the least of what came her way. “Ida told me I didn’t need to work, but I want to.” Mella looked around. In the blue garden, purple grass as fine as fur covered the paths. Water lilies of pale purple and white filled the pond, and crescendos of lavender blossoms spilled from vines that arched over a pergola. The garden seemed a refuge of coolness no matter how hot the day. “I never knew how satisfying gardening could be.”

  “Good enough.” Felaina rose to her feet. “Let’s go and have Ida put some ointment on that scratch…and maybe you can tell me about Earth?”

  The warmth settling around Mella’s heart felt oddly like contentment. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later, Mella stood at the kitchen counter, her hands buried in warm bread dough. The lovely scent of yeast rose around her as she kneaded and watched the vid in the corner. The newscaster had just introduced the Council of Five.

  In another fifteen minutes, the tiny screen would click off—Nexus only allowed broadcasting from six to eight each morning and evening. Dain hadn’t lied when he’d mentioned the planet’s abhorrence for artificial entertainment.

  She folded the dough in on itself and pressed again, enjoying how the texture grew elastic. Ida glanced over, silently checked her progress, and nodded in approval. Mella smiled. She’d learned more here than just about coupling. By the time she left, she’d possess some decent cooking skills.

  Each morning, she arrived a little earlier to enjoy the homelike atmosphere in the big kitchen.

  She could also keep track of the news.

  On the vid, the five clanae finished discussing the increase in taxes, and the view changed to the lead newsman’s report on Port City crime. One rare murder in the Old Quarters. A brawl in the plaza between off-worlders. Two robberies inside the port. The display switched to the port gates and a flower-filled altar set up there for Armelina Archer. The newsman reported about the stalker who had followed the singer from Earth and then bombed her ship.

  Her lips quirked. So now stalkers engaged in interplanetary travel?

  The scene changed to a plaza hotel and then… Nathan appeared on the vid. Evil incarnate. He walked out of the hotel and stood on the top step, facing a horde of reporters.

  Iron bands closed around Mella’s ribs, and her heart slammed into her rib cage as if trying to break out. He’s here. In Port City. After a strangling gasp, she forced herself to breathe slowly and knead the bread. Turn, press, fold over. The tightness in her chest eased.

  Nathan’s on the planet.

  Well, she’d always known he might come. Wouldn’t it look suspicious if the husband of a famous singer didn’t collect her body and help investigate her murder? He’d never foolishly ignore the proprieties.

  But seeing him… Her stomach knotted. The picture on the screen blurred into his face on the holocard, the one the murderers had given her. He’d been her husband for over five years, and she’d almost not recognized his picture on the card that night. His eyes had looked flat, almost lifeless, and his smooth voice nonchalant, as if he spoke of an evening’s entertainment, not her murder. “You’re going to die now, Armelina. Sorry.”

  Just the memory… She clamped her jaws together at the surging fear. Don’t panic. He couldn’t know she’d escaped the bombing. He’d undoubtedly arrived to ensure suspicion fell on the stalker.

  “All right be you, Mella? You be white as winter fur on a greiet.” Ida poured a glass of fruit juice and set it on the counter. “Sit yourself down and drink.”

  Prepared to refuse, Mella nodded instead. Her legs wobbled as she walked to the table. She sat and watched the vid.

  When a reporter asked why Armelina Archer had left Earth, Nathan answered, “I urged her to get away. I thought it would be safer for her because of the stalker. But he must have followed her off-planet.” He choked and turned away.

  The glass halted halfway to Mella’s mouth. She’d received letters and calls from that stalker, hadn’t she? Had he even existed? Knowing her deepest fear, had Nathan invented him to scare her to the frontier planets, where he could have her murdered more easily? “I don’t want anything to happen to you, darling. While you’re on vacation, I’ll make sure the police catch this man.”

  Oh Prophet, how blind she’d been. She took a sip of juice and choked at the sound of Dain’s voice.

  “I have to go to Port City, Ida.” He strolled into the kitchen and stopped beside Mella. “Do you ladies need me to pick up anything while I’m there?”

  With a hand on Mella’s shoulder, he leaned her against his hip. He touched her constantly, from hugs to playing with her hair to full embraces. Nexans were so different. No one kissed or hugged on Earth, not casually.

  She’d miss his comforting touch. When she looked up at him, his eyes darkened. “What has upset you, laria?”

  She swallowed her initial words and tried for a half-truth instead. “The news was ugly today.”

  “Mmmph. It’s ugly far too often.” He traced her lips with one finger before glancing at the vid, where the reporter spoke of women calling the Planetary Security building, claiming to be Armelina Archer.

  “How in the world can the enforcers know if someone’s lying without a truth-reader?” Blani asked. “No one knows what Armelina Archer looks like.”

  Dain chuckled. “The enforcers hired two of Archer’s fans to screen the callers by listening to them sing. Apparently, Archer’s voice is unique.”

  “As you’d know, if you ever took time to listen,” Ida said with a sniff as she handed him a glass of juice. “She has an extraordinary voice.”

  “So her fans say.” He drank, then added, “I’ll return after lastmeal, Ida. No need to save me anything.” He studied Mella’s face again, gave her a hard kiss, and left.

  Rather than returning to her room, Mella escaped to the inner courtyard. Near the walls, tiny streams of water curved through purple grass and brightly colored flower beds, then flowed under small wooden bridges until reaching the clear blue pond in the center. Bright little parogans lined up on the stones, preening in the fine spray from the arching center fountain. The flowering, dwarf fruit trees added a tropical scent to the moist, green fragrance. So quiet and serene.

  Mella sank down on a cushioned chair near the tiny altar
by the water. This altar held a hand-sized statue of a woman with her arms lifted in victory.

  At a flash of color, Mella looked up to see a little bird flit through the heavy screening overhead. The large size of the openings in the barrier implied that the flying predators must be bigger than three feet. What a horrible thought.

  But safety existed nowhere in the galaxy. She’d learned that.

  Still… The enclave had come to feel like a sanctuary. When she first arrived, she’d considered running. The gardener’s apprentice had told her of a Port City man who removed indenture bracelets. For a price. Her stomach twisted at the thought of paying that price.

  Eventually, she’d realized the foolishness of trying to flee. She was well hidden here. Safe.

  Maybe. His face—Seeing his face brought everything back.

  A tiny wind whipped around the courtyard and spray from the fountain misted over her, cold against her heated skin. She heard Dain’s solacar starting up, and it sounded far too like a zapper’s fire. A shudder shook her as she remembered how Captain Anderson had fallen. The heavy thud as his body hit the deck.

  Guilt tasted bitter in her mouth. She should have saved them or avenged them…somehow. But everything she’d done since her ship blew up proved how weak she was. Mella’s hands shook as she laced her fingers together. Could she have done something different?

  She and Cap and the engineer, Johnnie, had been in the galley, eating a greiet stew. Johnnie’d pushed the vegetables on his plate away from the meat; he liked everything separated out. And then the copilot, Pard, had walked in with two enforcers. Having met the cops when the ship cleared customs, Mella had smiled at them. That memory made her feel sick now. Why hadn’t she felt the evil coming from them? Something, before…

  As Johnnie turned to greet them, the dark enforcer shot Cap with his zapper. That horrible whining noise… Cap’s body went rigid, his gentle hazel eyes wide, and then he toppled from the chair.

  Mella screamed. Before Johnnie could move, the dark enforcer whipped around and buried a knife in his throat. Blood sprayed. Red everywhere.