by Tina Gayle
After stepping through the door of the depository, she spotted a man sitting behind the counter. Irritated at finding him in her quiet haven, she gritted her teeth. The dirt archives lacked visitors by anyone other than file runners, and they only stayed long enough to store away the samples.
Almon represented the last man she wanted to see. What was he doing here? His job required him to be in the Royal City office, not here, not in Central City. She resented his audacity at going through their core samples without approval. Rows of soil bins lined the back wall. He stood behind the counter. His black pencil-thin mustache and slim whipcord form didn’t inspire the image he wanted it too. A stud, he wasn’t.
“Almon, what’s up?”
Without answering, he hit a few more buttons on the screen, which lay imbedded in the granite worktop, before looking up. His lecherous gaze found his target and sped over her, pausing at strategic points along their journey.
“I think I saw you last night at the theater.” He nodded his approval at her new haircut. “I’m here on a small vacation. But being near the office, I thought I’d drop by and check on a few projects.”
He stood and waved his hand at the counter, his gestures indicating he’d grant her access into his private sanctuary. “What about you, Marohka? Why are you here instead of playing with your new mate?”
She burned with the desire to pulverize the man. Instead, she sent him an evil glare. In no way could he compare to Stihl, but she found herself noting their differences. Almon, dark and sinister, repulsed her in every way. While Stihl, larger and stronger, appeared solid and steady. She told herself not to trust either man.
“I have business to do.”
“Then I guess you’ll want to check on something in these vats.” Almon sat back down and started hitting keys, which disconnected the brain link. “I’ll logout and be out of your way in an iton.”
Marohka glanced at Cyd and waited for Almon to leave. “I’m sure Mr. Taunton will give your projects to someone else while you’re on leave. There’s no need for you to worry about them.”
Almon stood and unplugged his headgear from the terminal. “You’re probably right. But I couldn’t let your father down. We’ve been working together for years, in fact even before you started working for the company. He counts on me to keep anything from slipping through the cracks.”
He walked around the desk and stepped closer. Without budging, she rejected his right of any more space in her domain. “I’m sure Mr. Taunton appreciates your loyalty.”
He stopped next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “And you, Marohka, what do you appreciate?”
Revolted by his touch, she knocked his hand away with the back of hers. She didn’t mask her feelings. “I’d like men to keep their hands to themselves.”
A sly little grin lit Almon’s mouth. “Oh, yes, I forgot the ice queen doesn’t like to be touched. I bet your mate will really enjoy melting your cold attitude. Or have you frozen him out too?”
Marohka flexed her hands into fists and all but spat her next words. “I think you’d better leave.”
“Right.” He licked his lips and stepped closer. “Yeah, if it doesn’t work out with Stihl—that’s his name, isn’t it? I’d be willing to help you defrost.”
Livid, she demanded, “Get out!”
Cyd’s large hand landed on Almon’s shoulder. “I think, Luke, you’d better leave.”
Almon whipped around. His eyes narrowed into a glare as he judged his chances to better his opponent. With a shrug, he gained his release. “I’m Almon Pepin. I work with Marohka.”
Stepping away from the two men, she stepped to the other side of the counter and opened a drawer for an extra headset.
“I’m Cyd Fermesium. My job is to protect Stihl’s interest, which includes Marohka.”
Almon let out a nervous laugh. “From what?”
She settled into the chair and set up the mental link with the computer. “From anyone who might want to bother me.”
“Stihl doesn’t like anyone near Marohka.” Cyd stepped back for Almon to leave.
“Cyd escorts me everywhere I go.” She hit a few keys. Her password sped through to the main-brain computer. She found the Trisar files and requested access. “It helps save Stihl a lot of undue stress. In the end, it’s best for everyone. It keeps him from hurting anyone who might upset me.”
She remembered the encounter from the night before. “Stihl can get a little rough if he feels I’m being threatened. Cyd is much more easygoing. Aren’t you, Cyd?”
“I like to think so. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Pepin.”
Almon hesitated and then turned to her with his last parting arrow. “I guess, now that you have a mate, you won’t be working here anymore.”
Marohka felt the prick, but rejected the urge to react. Her gaze stayed focused on her screen. “Bye, Almon.”
Paging through the files, she found the graphs and charts she wanted. The vat number for the samples stood behind her on the wall. Standing, she turned and searched through the rows of bins for the correct sample.
“I take it you don’t like Almon.” Cyd pulled up a seat on the other side of the counter.
“How can you say that? The man causes my heart to flutter every time I see him.” She ran her finger over the bin numbers. “I was very nice to him under the circumstances.”
“Yes, the man is lucky I stepped in. If I’d given you a few more itons, you would’ve pummeled him.” Cyd grinned.
The idea lightened her mood. “He’s a trusted employee of my father’s. I do my best to stay out of his way, provided of course, he stays out of mine.”
She sighed with disgust. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t. In fact, if he’d gotten his way I’d probably be his mate. Luckily, the council wouldn’t approve it.”
“That Luke?” Cyd stared out the open doorway. “He’s got to be dimcoco if he thought he could beat you at the first challenge. Stihl struggled, and he knew what to expect.”
Cyd leaned back in his chair. “Did Almon think you’d take it easy on him?”
“I don’t know what goes through that man’s head.”
Finding the right bin, she retrieved the latest samples out of the storage carton.
“Maybe, now, he’ll get on with his life and leave me alone.” She placed the dirt in the scanner. Data appeared on the screen, changing with the questions running through her mind.
“Chances are I won’t see him again anyway. He’ll be heading back to Royal City, and I’ll be off to the Trisar Mine. Our paths shouldn’t cross.” She paged through the results. “This can’t be right.”
“What?”
“Quartz shouldn’t be found at this level. The samples confirm the drilling has veered off course but not the reason why? Either an uplift has happened in the area and changed the depth of the deposit, or the samples are contaminated.” She studied the soil.
“How do you mess up dirt?”
“It happens.” She stood, cleaned off the counter, and carried the bin back to its assigned place. “Either in shipping or a mistake in the filing, I won’t know for sure until I arrive at the mine.”
She rammed the data card in her coat pocket and shut down the system. “I’m done.”
“I’m ready when you are.” He rose from his chair.
“Do we have time for me to stop at one of the shops on the way back? I want to buy a heavier coat for our trip into the mountains.”
Cyd checked his time-marker. “We should have time to buy you a coat, if you don’t take forever to decide which one.”
“Great, I know exactly the one I want. It was in the display window of a shop near where we got my hair cut.”
* * * *
“Marohka is such a royal snob,” Almon muttered under his breath and strolled out of the building to the nearby people mover and stepped on.
The lights off the metal building fell on the smartly dressed men and women marching along the path. In a hurry
to get to their next appointment, they rushed past him. Unconcerned about the crowd’s hustling movements, Almon played with his mustache, twisting each end tightly. He fought to control his emotions over the chance meeting with Marohka.
At one time, he’d thought having her as his mate was the only way he could achieve his goal. He recalled her first mating ball, a fairy tale night. He’d been handsome and charming and won her with little effort. She’d been shy and receptive to his advances.
The simple dress she’d worn graced her figure. The elegant lines barely revealed her luscious body, causing most of the men to overlook her, but she’d been his choice. He liked that she didn’t attract a lot of attention. He wanted her to shine in his glow.
That night, he’d felt as if his future lay in the palm of his hand. Marohka’s destiny to be his mate, her father’s company his to run, money and glory were within his reach. With everything in place, he’d have it all. Then the Royal Council struck their blow.
“We’re sorry to say your mother’s side of the family doesn’t possess enough Royal blood to let you be Marohka’s mate,” the elder offered with a note of sympathy. “She might hurt you. She needs a strong telepathic link.”
Almon remembered the painful words, and his stomach clinched in reaction to the memory. Marohka could never better him in anything. But at the time, he didn’t argue.
“But I love her,” he’d said instead.
His words must have touched the councilman’s heart. He then revealed the true reason for the council’s decision. “I’m sorry, but she has already been selected. Even if you had enough Royal blood, she can’t be your mate.” The man lightly patted Almon’s hand. “There are plenty of other girls. Don’t let one rejection spoil your hope for a mate.”
After some digging, he’d discovered who had possessed the clout to reserve Marohka. Now, he planned to use the information for his own benefit. Not only to break up her and Stihl, but also to get back a little flesh for all the times she looked down her nose at him.
“Not yet,” Almon cautioned himself and smiled at the ruthless way he planned to even the score.
By putting her mineralogy skills into question, he’d gain attention for himself. She’d fall from favor, and he’d step in and take over the Trisar Mine. He’d show the Council of Elders how he could find all the precious ore the country required. Not to mention a much-needed power source.
Then after he gained control of her father’s company, he’d be on top of the world. She’d be out of a job and her record of success buried in ashes. Everyone would finally understand the ruse of her taking credit for his skill for all these years. As a national hero, no one would ever doubt his Royal blood again. The final spike would come when he told her about Stihl’s deceit.
He smiled at his clever plan and stroked the corners of his mustache. She’d suffer the same way he had. Loving someone without them returning your desire hurt. Now all he had to do was play his cards right, and he would extract the most revenge from the hand he’d been given.
The smile beaming across his face caught a number of people’s attention. A slim redhead walking toward him returned his smile with interest. She paused in her step.
* * * *
Brrrring.
The noise registered in Stihl’s muddled brain. He resisted the urge to grab his ECD and placed a pillow over his head instead. The device showed no mercy. The persistent ring pinged through his dreams.
The pillow, hitting the far wall, offered little relief from his pinned up anger at the offensive object. He struggled to sit up, attached the unit to his ear, and grumbled a rough greeting. “This better be good.”
His father’s voice hit him like a splash of cold water. “Son, what’s the matter with you? Did I wake you?”
With a sigh, Stihl lifted his chest and leaned back against the headboard. He glimpsed the empty bed beside him and remembered he should’ve had company. “Yes, Dad, Marohka and I stayed out late. I was trying to catch up.”
He remembered the prior night’s events, and his pulse increased. Maybe if his father said what he wanted, Stihl might coax Marohka back to bed.
“Cyd told me you found her.”
“We reconnected with each other on the train to Central City. She is staying here with me. We went out last night so I could introduce her to some of my friends and my final investor.” Stihl scanned the room. He hoped Lord Kalva bought into the deal.
Where was she?
“I’m glad to hear things are working out. In a way, that’s why I called. Your brothers are getting restless about the mine. They think strip mining is more cost-effective than the current method.” His dad paused for an iton. “I’m examining the cost of extracting the qualtrilium so I can compare the profit margins.”
All business, his dad left out his own opinion on the subject. “You do have those figures, don’t you?”
Stihl threw back the covers, left the bed, and headed for the other room. “Yes, but I don’t see why you need them. Now that I’m with Marohka, the property and the mine are under my jurisdiction. I have final say as to what happens at the mine.”
Naked and a little angry about having to do this task, Stihl grabbed a robe. “Give me an iton. I need to log onto the computer.”
He strolled into the living room and glanced around. Not seeing Marohka, he wondered if she locked herself in the lily again. The idea of her leaving crossed his mind, but then he remembered her promise.
“That’s fine. How long do you plan on being in Central City?”
Irritated, Stihl signed into the computer and answered. “I’m not sure yet. I want to make a side trip to the Trisar site before traveling on to our mountain place. But I haven’t set up a timetable yet.”
“Shouldn’t you and Marohka adjust to living together first? She might dislike living out in the wild country,” his dad said with authority.
“Well, she’d better get used to it, because that’s where I’m planning to live. Now, what numbers are you looking for?” He retrieved the information his father wanted and answered his questions.
Stihl wondered why Marohka didn’t appear, or at least Cyd. He should be awake.
“Son, you might want to rethink your position on the mine. We can make a lot more money with the strip mine proposal.”
Stihl’s anger sparked. How many times did they have to go over this? “That may be true. But what type of damage will we do to the land by then? The cost of recovery will be more than the profit gained. Grandfather left me in charge, and you’ve named your price for my taking over,” Stihl argued. “You can’t change your mind, because I’m not changing my mine. No strip mining.”
“You’re right.” His father’s tone turned stern. “But first you have to impregnate Marohka. Has that happened yet?”
Stihl rubbed his hand against his chest. “No.”
“Then I suggest you get busy. Both your brothers are impatient. They, as you know, can always use the extra money.” His dad ended with, “I’ll hold them off for a while longer. But you should accept the fact that you might lose.”
Angry, Stihl tore the ECD from his ear and threw the device across the room. How could his father, sell out his grandfather’s dream? His grandfather carved a life out of that rocky piece of land. For years, he’d lived there, working the livestock and searching for qualtrilium. If not for their grandfather’s luck, his family would still be living there.
Now, they wanted to throw it all away. Take and give nothing back. Didn’t they know their land was a priceless gift, one few families in Lustralia possessed? They owned property. Their job was to protect the resource with honor and integrity for the future of all Lustralians.
Disgusted with his brothers, he knew their answer. They didn’t care. Never had. Money ruled.
His computer displayed his VIMs. He stared at the screen and read a note from Lord Kalva. He didn’t mention the Trisar deal. Instead, he asked about their early departure. Stihl responded and lied about Marohka ha
ving a headache.
Checking the rest of his mail, he opened a note from his bank which informed him of a transfer of funds. Anger shot him to his feet when he realized the sender.
“Marohka!” he shouted and stomped back to the bedroom. Not finding her, he walked to the lily.
With the door open and no one inside, he searched the rest of the house. No Marohka. No Cyd. No note.
Stihl sat on the couch, fuming. As mornings went, this one stunk. His father’s call with his veiled threats, Lord Kalva’s lack of commitment, and Marohka missing. He needed to get things under control.
