Rio

by Allyson James

  “I have a lady. She’s keeping me busy.”

  The patroller gave him a look of disgust. “Her name?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Where are you staying?”‘

  Rio grinned, though his heart beat a little faster. “None of your business.”

  “You’d better tell me, Rio.”

  “I can’t divulge that.” He folded his arms, not taking back the packages the other women held gingerly.

  He knew good and well she could not force him to reveal the name of his lady. The women who hired Shareem were often highborn and very touchy about other people knowing what they were up to. An embarrassed upper-class lady was powerful enough to make a patroller’s life hell.

  The captain switched tactics. “I heard that you had a transport lined up to take you off-world.”

  Rio gave her a bored look. “If that were true, would I be standing here talking to you?”

  “I heard,” she went on, her lips tight, “that you missed it because you were skulking around the back streets.”

  “You hear a lot of crazy things if you listen. I heard that a gardener in the middle of the dry sea swears he can grow seashells. Says they push up out of the dirt if you give them enough water.”

  The patrol captain scowled. “I heard you’ve arranged another transport.”

  “That’s news to me.” If Rees had found him one, he hadn’t mentioned it yet.

  “You haven’t been home, you’ve been arranging transports, you’ve been wandering the back streets, and now you’ve been purchasing supplies. That’s what’s in the packages, isn’t it? Supplies for traveling off-world?”

  Rio shrugged. “See for yourself.”

  The captain gave her patrollers a curt nod. They broke the seals of the packages and rolled back the sun-shielding plastic.

  “Oh,” one said. She was holding a collar of supple leather with finely-tooled designs on it. It was clearly woman-sized. The patroller next to her unwrapped a silver chain, and the third held up a leather garment that was very small.

  The first two looked repulsed, but the third patroller touched the soft black leather as though fascinated. Rio winked at her, and she blushed.

  “They’re for my lady.” Rio retrieved the packages and sealed them up again. “Like I said.”

  “That’s disgusting,” the patrol captain sneered. “And degrading. And horrible.”

  The patroller who’d handed him back the leather dress looked thoughtful, like she wanted to find out whether such things were disgusting and degrading and horrible, and thought maybe they weren’t.

  Rio gave her a knowing grin. He’d send one of his Shareem friends to find her and show her a few things. Maybe Braden, who had a good sense of humor and liked to teach.

  “We’re watching you, Shareem,” the patrol captain said.

  Rio tucked the packages under his arm. “Of course you are. You’re always watching me, sweetheart.” He let his pheromones touch every one of them, smiling as their eyes and lips softened, reacting to him without knowing it. “Now watch this ass as I walk away.”

  He turned and sauntered down the street, making sure his butt was in full view the entire time. He heard silence behind him, but he knew they were staring at him and feeling stirrings of lust.

  He’d be more amused by the encounter if it didn’t worry him so much. The patroller knew about the transport and how he’d missed it, and possibly Rees’ involvement. They probably did not know about Nella, or they would have said something like “So, who’s the redhead?”

  They’d do what they said, watch his every move, and they were likely following him now. He sure as hell couldn’t lead them straight back to Dr. Laas’ compound and Nella, so he turned his steps to his own small apartment in d’Enela Street.

  Despite its fancy name, the street was short, with sand-scoured shops and narrow apartment blocks. Children ran unhindered in the dust, playing a ball game that Rio had never learned, which apparently involved some kicking and much arguing.

  A woman sat on a bench outside a fruit shop, dozing in the sun, the storm doors open and her wares brightening the dim interior with yellow, orange and red.

  “Rio,” she bellowed delightedly when he stopped in front of her. Her artificial teeth, bright silver, flashed in a grin. “About time you got back. Where you been?”

  “Kamile.” Rio bent down and kissed the woman’s timeworn cheek. “I found me a delicious lady.”

  “You’ve always found you a lady. Who is it this time?”

  “No one you know.” He plopped down on the bench just to annoy any following patrollers. “I really like her. If I weren’t Shareem, I’d say she’s the one.”

  Kamile’s dark eyes widened with interest. “Ooh, I’ve never hear you say that before.” She glanced at him narrowly. “It’s not that Serena woman again, is it? I told you she was trouble, and I was glad when she ran off. She wasn’t good for you.”

  “Serena was a long time ago,” Rio said. “I’m over it.”

  “Good. Who’s this woman, then?”

  “She’s beautiful. Never seen anything like her.”

  “Going to ask her to be your lifemate, are you?”

  Rio studied the dusty street and the rather battered walls and storm doors, and the patroller several shops down who was bad at being covert.

  No one took much trouble with the outsides of their houses, because the sand storms would ruin everything, so why bother? Richer neighborhoods had shields over the streets to minimize the damage, but d’Enela Street wasn’t so lucky.

  “I want to meet her,” Kamile said, with force.

  “Maybe some day.” Rio knew that day would never come, but he was good at pretending. “Can I use your console, Kamile? I’ve got the credit.”

  “What’s wrong with your own console?”

  “It’s acting funny,” Rio lied. “Can’t see for static. Have to get it fixed.”

  “Go ahead then. Have a peach, on me.” She chuckled, silver teeth winking.

  “Thanks.” He set down his packages, asking her to look after them, and ducked into the dim interior.

  The shop smelled like bright fruit—Kamile stocked all kinds, from prosaic apples to zoolberries, which were only grown in one tiny area of Bor Narga. She also stocked illegal fruit like the inigo, which simulated after-sex euphoria.

  Where she got them all, Rio didn’t know, but people came here from all parts of the planet to buy Kamile’s fruit. She made enough money that she could have opened a store in a wealthier part of the city, but she did not want to. Her customers wouldn’t come, she said, if she made the shop respectable. Being disreputable was part of its charm.

  Kamile’s console stood in a niche in the back. Like the console at Judith’s it was a public terminal, and Rio shoved his credit slip into the slender slot in the front.

  The machine sucked in his slip, and a gentle voice told him to place his call.

  Rio proceeded to call every person he knew in Pas City and some out in the desert communities of Ril and Strama. He chatted to them briefly about anything that came into his head.

  He knew that the patrollers would monitor these calls and check out each person in case they were his contact for a transport. He called women and men and other Shareem, everyone but Rees and Dr. Laas. That should keep things busy for a while.

  In the middle of the flurry of communications, he called Aiden. “I might be late,” he said to Aiden’s beautiful image. “Give her a message.”

  Aiden looked curious, but only said, “All right.”

  They talked briefly, then Rio finished the rest of his calls and retrieved his credit slip, quite a bit depleted.

  “Thanks, Kamile.” He picked up his packages, kissed her cheek again, and strolled back toward his own apartment.

  “Sandstorm’s coming,” Kamile said. “Better seal yourself in.”

  “You heard a report?” Baine hadn’t mentioning anything when Rio had left the compound. Baine l
oved weather reports, the more dire the better.

  “I feel it in my bones.” Kamile heaved herself up, tottered inside and proceeded to close all her storm doors.

  “Just what I need,” Rio said, then he reached his apartment block, walked into his flat and sealed all his windows. Kamile’s bones were never wrong.

  * * * * *

  While Nella wandered about the house, examining Dr. Laas’ strange, sensuous rooms and wishing Rio were here to explore them with her, Baine announced two things.

  The first was, “Another Shareem has arrived. He says Rio sent him to see you. I put him in the mural dining room.”

  “Another Shareem?”

  “Yes. A level one called Aiden. Do not worry, Dr. Laas cleared him for the compound a long time ago and he’s been sworn to secrecy concerning your identity. He is trustworthy, even if he is an acquaintance of Rio’s.”

  “Rio is not with him?”

  “No, your highness,” Baine answered. “I would have said so.”

  Worried, Nella hurried to the nearest lift. “Take me to the mural dining room.”

  “As you wish.”

  As Baine opened the doors on the appropriate level, he made another announcement, this one piped through all the halls and rooms.

  “Sandstorm,” he said.

  Chapter Ten

  Riding Out the Storm

  Nella heard and felt nothing to indicate that a sandstorm raged in the city above them, but Baine assured her it did.

  “A Code 9,” he said. “Not the worst I’ve ever seen, but fairly bad. Most are Code 6—very few reach Code 7 and up. This is unusual.”

  Nella walked through the softly lit halls lined with pictures of tranquil landscapes on her way to the dining room. Dr. Laas’ compound, so far underground, would know nothing of the storms. She wondered how Dr. Laas’ power was supplied, and if the sandstorm would affect it.

  She had the feeling that Dr. Laas and Baine had figured all this out long ago. The compound was too orderly and too well hidden for them to have been anything but careful.

  She entered the dining room and stopped. The mural on the wall showed a pleasant garden of trellises and climbing roses, with a fountain in its center. The picture was so sharp, the sound of the fountain so entrancing, and the slightly damp scent of roses so real that Nella thought she could walk right through the wall and find herself in the garden itself.

  But however lovely the mural, it was not what had made her pull up. A Shareem rose from a chair when she entered, one so incredibly handsome that she could only stare in shock.

  His hair was blond, like Rees’, but a lighter shade, pulled back into a tail that hung all the way to his hips. He wore a sleeveless tunic and sandals, again like Rees, though he was a few inches shorter than Rees. His brawny arms sported Shareem muscle and a black chain, and his shoulders and chest were plenty broad.

  His face was chiseled perfection. An artist sculpting the ultimate in male beauty could use this man as a model, but the result would never match his natural handsomeness.

  The Shareem smiled at her, making him even more seductively beautiful. “I was face sculpted,” he explained, smiling at her scrutiny. “The epitome of genetic art.” He extended his hand. “Rio sent me. I’m Aiden.”

  Nella politely put her hand in his, then backed away when she felt Shareem pheromones flood her. She had the sudden urge to tear off her clothes and beg this man to touch her all over, but she was very aware that he’d put the urge into her head.

  With Rio, she felt more like she begged him because she wanted to. Perhaps that meant Rio was a more practiced Shareem.

  But maybe—

  She felt it, tenuous and weblike, the pull to Rio.

  No.

  Something joyful inside her responded, Why not?

  “Where is Rio? Is he here?”

  She somehow knew he wasn’t. The entire complex felt different when Rio was in it.

  “He said he had some errands and that he’d meet me here.”

  “Oh.” She chewed her lip and pressed the brief sensation away. If she was mistaken, she would not be able to bear it. “Perhaps the sandstorm has slowed him down. It must make walking difficult.”

  Aiden gave her an odd look. “Slowed him down? Have you ever seen a Bor Nargan sandstorm?”

  “No.”

  Aiden glanced up. “Baine, show what’s outside, will you?”

  Baine emitted a computer cough. “Why? The garden is much more pleasant.”

  “I know, but Nella needs to see.”

  Baine sighed. “To each his own.” The computer faded out the garden scene, leaving a yellow-brown blank wall.

  Nella realized after a moment, that she was not looking at a wall but a view of the street outside, the same scene Baine had showed her earlier. Only now the street was completely obliterated by sand.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aiden said. “No one travels in a sandstorm. We stay inside and seal the doors. I was lucky that I got here before it hit.”

  If she looked closely, Nella could just see the corners of buildings fading in and out under the blanket of scouring sand. She also noticed that, unlike with the garden or other scenes, Baine had not added sound, scent or feeling to this image.

  “How can anyone even breathe out there?” she asked.

  Aiden came up behind her, his warmth touching her like a blanket. “No one can. That is why we carry breath masks. No one told you when you arrived?”

  Nella shook her head. “I saw that everyone carried one, but I did not know why. Was Rio caught in it, do you think?”

  “No. Rio’s smart enough to stay out of a sandstorm. Wherever he was, he ducked inside and is sitting tight, waiting for it to subside.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so. Shareem have lived through Bor Nargan sandstorms for decades, and none of us have been lost in them.”

  She relaxed a little. “That’s good.”

  “Put back the garden, Baine,” Aiden said. “We’ve had enough of this depressing view.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Baine said.

  Instantly, the mural transformed to the garden scene. Nella drew a breath of relief, inhaling the scent of sweet roses and the green odor of earth.

  Aiden put his hands on Nella’s shoulders, warmth radiating from his palms. She sensed his pheromones spilling over her again.

  “I’m Rio’s,” she said quickly.

  “I know. He told me to give you a message.”

  She turned, unnerved when he didn’t back away. His chest and shoulders were every bit as broad as Rio’s, his blue eyes just as unnerving. “What message?”

  Aiden smiled. “Two words. Trust me.”

  Nella thought of Rio’s “lessons” in trust, and wondered what he meant to do now. A little shiver began at the bottom of her spine.

  “I also brought something for you.” Aiden turned away, lifted a metal box from the floor and set in on the flat surface of the table. He opened it to reveal a cloth-lined interior in which rested two rows of varicolored bottles.

  Nella moved to the table, curious in spite of herself. “What are they?”

  “Scented oils. We’ll go through them, and you’ll choose the one you like. Or more than one, whatever you want.”

  She looked them over, intrigued. While she sometimes wore light perfume on Ariel, she’d never allowed herself anything as exotic as scented oil. Oil was meant to glide over the skin under trained fingers…

  She had the sudden vision of this man oiling her from head to foot while Rio watched nearby, whip in hand, a wicked look in his dark blue eyes.

  She swallowed hard. “Rio wanted me to have this?”

  Aiden’s perfect eyes crinkled with his smile. “Don’t be afraid, Nella. It’s just oil.”

  Nella calmed herself and sat down at the table. He plucked the first bottle from the slot, worked out its airtight seal and handed it to her.

  “What’s this one?” she asked, taking it.

/>   “Rose and tulawood. I think you’ll like it.”

  Its scent, not too strong, hinted of the roses in the garden behind her, laced with the smoky smell of wood. As Nella slowly inhaled, a feeling of wellbeing and peace stole over her.

  Mystified, she resealed the bottle, set it aside, and reached for the next one.

  The next oil gave off the sharp smell of crushed herbs laced with lavender. Nella felt suddenly energetic, as though she wanted to throw Aiden to the floor so she could jump on top of him.

  Letting out a shaky breath, she quickly sealed it. “They are stirring up my pheromones, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.” He lifted the herb one she’d set down and looked at it reverently. “I make up the formulas and have them created to order.”

  “By Dr. Laas?” Nella asked, realizing.

  “Who else? There’s nothing that woman doesn’t know about sensuality and biochemistry.”

  “She is an unusual woman,” Nella said.

  He winked. “We like her. Try this one.”

  The third oil smelled of warm spice, amber and patchouli, a dark scent that reminded her of Rio.

  At the thought of Rio, her cream suddenly began to flow thick and hot. Dreamily, she put her fingers between her legs and pressed.

  “You like that one,” Aiden said softly.

  Nella wriggled against her fingers, and then, incredibly, she came. It was not the over-the-top, screaming sensation she had with Rio, but a wicked, warm feeling. She moaned as it flooded her.

  “I’d say you definitely like that one.” Aiden took the bottle from her and resealed it. She saw that his eyes had gone fully blue, and his body heat had risen.

  Once the bottle was corked, the scent eased away and Nella blushed.

  Aiden grinned at her. “Never be embarrassed in front of Shareem, sweetheart. That’s what we’re for, you know, to teach that sexuality is a wonderful thing.”

  “Rees said something like that.”

  “And he’s right. Men and women were meant to have sex with each other. It’s part of creation—or at least it was until we made creation all about genetic manipulation. Kind of ironic, isn’t it, that Shareem, the ultimate genetic experiments, only want to show that creation the old-fashioned way is a good thing?”