Roping Savannah

by Jory Strong

  Chapter Twenty

  “Sure. What’s up?” Savannah said, letting him in and closing the door. Not surprised when Kye and Draigon rose to their feet and came over to stand next to her, remaining at her side even after she’d made the introductions.

  “You know those girls you’ve been asking around about?” Fowler asked.

  Savannah guessed where the conversation was going and was touched that the Vice cop would swing by to deliver the bad news personally. For a split second she was tempted to let him off the hook and tell him she already knew about Ivy and Camryn, but she hadn’t turned on the police scanner, hadn’t heard from Kelleher or Vaccaro, so she didn’t know what the status of the investigation was. “What about them?”

  Something flickered in Fowler’s eyes. Regret, maybe. Sadness. “Two of them are dead. I swung by the scene a minute ago when I heard it called in. Drug overdose.”

  He glanced around the room, lingering for a moment on the door to her bedroom before taking in the kitchen separated from the living room by a short counter. “It reminded me of those pictures of mass suicides. The ones where cult leaders talk their followers into drinking poisoned Kool-Aid. There were seven bodies at the scene.” He speared his fingers through his hair as his gaze returned to Savannah, his distress obvious. “I figured you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You think I could get some water before I head out?”

  Savannah nodded and moved to the kitchen. Her pulse spiking when Fowler stayed with her and they passed the partially open bedroom door.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw him glance in. “So you found the kid,” he said, resignation in his voice. “She know about Ivy and Camryn?”

  “I’ve got some bottled water. Black-cherry flavored. Would you rather have that?” Savannah asked, intent on avoiding his question, turning toward the refrigerator. Realizing a split second too late how casually Fowler had used the girls’ names.

  He grabbed her arm and pressed the barrel of a silenced gun against the side of her head.

  “Stay right there,” Fowler said to Draigon and Kye. Holding them at bay on the other side of the counter.

  They slowly raised their hands. Though Savannah was sure Fowler knew they were unarmed.

  “Christ, Holden, I did everything but buy you a ticket out of town. But you just couldn’t leave this alone. I should have had Camryn take care of the kid. Slip her something and be done with it after she caught me changing out the memory chip in the camera a couple of weeks ago. I never wanted this to happen. The entire way over here I was praying I wouldn’t find the kid here. I’ve had a tracer on your boyfriend’s car since yesterday. I knew you’d been to Becky Traynor’s playhouse. Then the call came in… Christ!” It was a near shout. Fowler’s body practically vibrating against hers. Strung out with emotion.

  Savannah’s mind raced, trying to find a way for them to get out of this alive. And then it hit her. “You’re Camryn’s brother. The FBI is already looking for you.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. A terse sound. “Nice try. But Camryn was arrested in Vegas on some lightweight charges. They’re the only prints in the system on her. I made sure the records reflect that she’s an only child. Parents deceased. No known living relatives.”

  A cold sickness filled Savannah’s stomach. Horror that she could have misjudged him so badly. Had considered him her one friend in Vice. “Did you kill Camryn and the others?”

  “No. Traynor did that with one of his little party packs. And he’ll get what’s coming to him for it. In jail or out. I’ll make sure of it.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry about this, Holden. I really am. I liked you and that’s the truth.”

  She knew in a heartbeat that he intended to pull the trigger and so she did the only thing she could. She dropped, hoping to take him with her, to pull Fowler off balance and split his attention.

  Kye and Draigon lunged at the counter in the same instant Fowler released his hold on Savannah, his hand jerking upward. Getting off a shot.

  Red blossomed across the front of Kye’s shirt and he fell backward. Light caught on Draigon’s wristband and then in surreal incongruity he lowered his hand. Retreated to the other side of the counter and gathered Kye into his arms.

  “We will return to you,” Draigon said, the red stones in his bands burning so brightly that Savannah blinked. Then blinked again with the realization that there was no one in the room with her. That only the blood on the counter and the tile proved what had just happened was real.

  * * * * *

  Draigon could feel Kye’s life force fading. Could sense the frantic energy of the Ylan stones in Kye’s wristbands as they tried to sustain him.

  Without hesitation he used his own Ylan stones to transmute, to travel to the transport chamber in the Sierras, then to Belizair, to the bridge city Winseka, where the only known portal to Earth existed, and from there he used the last of the power and energy stored in his bands to go to the mountains, where the healers on Belizair lived.

  “Follow me,” an elderly Amato said in greeting, turning without another word and guiding Draigon through the ancient, twisting, underground passages, their walls deep tones of Ylan stone set in symbols and patterns that had once held significance for the Fallon.

  Some of the tension eased from Draigon’s chest and shoulders. The wings which had remained a collection of particles on Earth now opened slightly, relaxing.

  Though Kye was still a dead weight in Draigon’s arms, Draigon could feel Kye stabilize. As if death did not dare to enter this place where the Consort’s veins lay exposed, opened, poured out in the form of the Ylan stone across the walls and ceilings, mixing with the ancient runes of the Fallon.

  When he had studied the customs of Earth in preparation for claiming a bond-mate, Draigon had read the histories of how humans had once viewed his kind. How some of their places of worship contained images of winged men and women and children, angels, painted on their walls and stained in their windows.

  There had been no time to visit one of the humans’ holy places, but now, as he walked through the ancient caves of the Fallon, Draigon realized that this place of healing bodies was very much like the humans’ place for healing souls. It radiated with peace and power, with echoes from the past, a connection to the very beginning of existence.

  The healer entered a room, motioning Draigon toward its center and Draigon’s breath caught at the sight of the altar within. It was made primarily of deep blue Ylan stones, but woven throughout were swirling ribbons of lavender containing a multitude of sparkling colors. The Tears of the Goddess.

  Few had ever found them on Belizair. They were priceless—valued even by the Vesti, though because of their scarcity and not because of their religious significance. Until this moment, Draigon had seen only the Tears possessed by the priests and priestesses. Small stones, easily held in an infant’s fist.

  Without being told, Draigon placed Kye on the altar, hovering next to him, the memory of Savannah’s anguished face assailing him as he looked at the Vesti who was his co-mate. The man who had found Savannah and kept her safe, whom Draigon had thought to resent and yet found he couldn’t.

  Kye’s life force was weak, his breathing almost imperceptible, his dark suede-like wings draped over the altar, reminding Draigon of the bed-clothing on Earth. He will be all right?

  The healer placed his hand on Draigon’s shoulder. It is up to the Goddess and her consort. Leave us now. My granddaughter waits outside to show you to a room. Your travels have left your Ylan stones drained. You may stay here while they are restored.

  * * * * *

  Savannah cleaned up the blood, wiping it with a sponge, bleaching the counter and floor. The Twilight Zone theme song playing in her head along with visions of some secret government agency sweeping into her apartment to search for alien DNA.

  Only the bands she wore on her wrists and Holland’s presence in the bedroom had kept her grounded those first few moments after Kye
, Draigon and Fowler disappeared. Now scenes from the past days crowded in. Subtle and not so subtle clues she’d picked up on but not recognized for what they were.

  The hint of a familiar cologne—Fowler’s—in her apartment the day she and Kye were here and found it had been carefully searched, probably by a different person than the one who’d trashed The Ferret’s place.

  Kye’s disappearance without a trace the next morning. Draigon’s sudden appearance a few days later. Both of their tracks going to a point and simply vanishing.

  Draigon not knowing what fried chicken was. Big clue there.

  Their not carrying guns despite being bounty hunters. She’d written that one off too.

  Savannah moved to the window and looked out. Rubbed her chest with a suddenly shaking hand now that the business of destroying the crime scene was done. A sob forcing its way out. Oh god, what if Kye died?

  Tears escaped and she closed her eyes. Willed the tears to stay put. The hope to remain. Tried to latch on to Draigon’s promise that they would return. Not “I will return” but “We will return.”

  She combated the tears with deep breaths. Told herself that if they could disappear into thin air, then surely they had the technology to save Kye from a bullet wound.

  She forced herself to think about the case instead. Seeing how the dots connected now. Fowler to Camryn. Camryn to Ivy and Holland. Camryn to Traynor. Traynor to Dominguez. Dominguez to The Cousins and The Psychos. Everyone accounted for but the missing Abrego brother—Psycho I, whose van Kye found abandoned in a garage near The Ferret’s apartment building.

  Fuck. Savannah leaned her forehead against the windowpane. In her mind’s eye she replayed that first day together. The trip to The Ferret’s apartment. Turning back toward Kye as they were on the sidewalk heading for the truck, asking him if he saw something, only vaguely noticing him lowering his arm to his side—the same way Draigon had done just after the flash that must have signaled Fowler’s disappearance.

  Savannah rubbed her forehead against the smooth glass. She hadn’t even asked Kye why he thought a sniper might have been positioned in the garage. Though in her defense, after The Ferret’s car blew up, a sniper wasn’t out of the question. But to go days later and conveniently find a rifle case and registration papers…

  Deep down she’d known. After the shootout with Psycho II, as they were getting ready to check into the hotel, when she’d been so worried and Kye had sounded so confident that they were safe from both of the Abregos—she’d had a brief, glittering moment when she wondered if Kye had found Psycho I in the parking garage and had done something to him.

  But of course, she’d blown the thought off.

  The phone rang and Savannah opened her eyes and pushed herself away from the window. Answered it, not surprised to hear Kelleher’s voice saying they were on their way over to talk to Holland.

  She went to the bedroom and found Holland awake, her face tear-streaked but no longer wet. Savannah sat on the bed and tried to feel sorry that she’d insisted they keep looking for Holland instead of taking off to parts unknown. Tried to tell herself that if she’d just dropped it, then Kye wouldn’t have been shot.

  But she couldn’t regret trying to help Holland. She just couldn’t. And in her heart, she didn’t believe Kye or Draigon regretted it either.

  Savannah took Holland’s hand, almost expecting Holland to shun the contact and pull away. Holland held on instead. Her eyes meeting Savannah’s. Trust there. Wariness. “That was one of the FBI agents. They’ll be here in a few minutes. If you want to put this behind you, then you need to tell them everything. Including what you know about Camryn’s brother. He’s a cop, isn’t he?”

  Holland’s hand tightened on Savannah’s in response. “How’d you know?”

  “Just a guess,” Savannah said—one paid for in blood, but there was no way she could tell Holland the truth.

  “I didn’t know he was a cop until the day you took me to the station. I saw him there but he didn’t see me.”

  Savannah closed her eyes. If only Holland had told her earlier—instead of denying that she knew what Camryn’s brother looked like. If only…

  Well, there was no point in thinking if only. There was only the here and now—and maybe the why Holland had held the information back.

  I should have had Camryn take care of the kid. Slip her something and be done with it after she caught me changing out the memory chip in the camera a couple of weeks ago.

  “Is Camryn’s brother the one who handles the blackmail?” Savannah asked and Holland immediately looked away. Her voice a thready whisper full of shame when she answered, “He’s the one who has all the pictures.”

  * * * * *

  Draigon paced the visitor’s sleeping chamber. Stretching his wings as he did so, relishing the movement, the ability to maintain his true form. His thoughts ricocheted between concern for Kye and worry for Savannah. His heart was heavy with the knowledge that when he had scooped Kye into his arms and transported in front of their bond-mate, he had perhaps ruined any chance they had to finish claiming her.

  The threatened loss of Savannah troubled him far more than the fact he had violated one of the Council’s strictest rules for those who traveled to Earth. His disappearance in front of Savannah had given direct evidence of the presence of those from Belizair, though few would fault him for his actions. Just as few would fault him for using the Ylan stones to destroy their attacker.

  With a sigh Draigon sat down on a simply carved chair with a low back, forced his mind away from the turmoil of his thoughts in favor of reliving the time he’d spent on Earth in the company of Savannah. His body tightening as he remembered their first mating in the hot tub. His cock filling as phantom lips kissed over it. The need to be with her nearly overwhelming him.

  Humor tugged at his heart when he remembered the drive to the cabin and how he’d been so enthralled by the sight of her breasts, by the wetness of her cunt that he’d lost control of the vehicle.

  He laughed out loud, thinking about the times she’d teased him, prodded him into a lightness of spirit he was unaccustomed to.

  He shook his head, revisiting how his confident resolve to remove her from her primitive, backwater planet had been relegated to failure within minutes of meeting her.

  Draigon rose to his feet and resumed pacing. Grimacing as his cock pressed against the tight Earth clothing. The jeans he’d put on yet again in a silent hope that this would be the day Kye would be declared fit and they could return to Earth together.

  The Ylan stones at Draigon’s wrists were charged with energy. And yet the healers had not allowed him to see Kye yet.

  He could not return to Savannah, not alone. Not without answers to the questions she would direct at him. Answers he was forbidden to give her under Council law.

  Draigon sighed, defeat lingering at the edges of his worry. Savannah was the first of those carrying the Fallon marker to have family on Earth, a sense of belonging that couldn’t be easily duplicated and the original erased.

  There’d been no time to discuss her plans with respect to Holland. And both he and Kye had been grateful to dodge the discussion about the binding ceremony and returning home.

  Movement at the doorway caused Draigon to break away from his worries. He glanced up. Anger and irritation flashing into him at the sight of Lyan. And yet instead of settling on him as they so often did, the emotions were fleeting, gone before he could say anything to antagonize the Vesti. “He is safe from death,” Draigon found himself saying instead.

  “May I enter?”

  “Yes.”

  Lyan stepped into the room and offered his forearms in traditional greeting. “My thanks for saving his life.”

  Draigon closed the distance between them. Touched his bands to Lyan’s. Their hands briefly gripping each other’s forearms before they stepped apart. “He would have done the same for me.”

  “How goes it with Savannah?”

  Draigon shook his
head slightly. Realizing in that instant just how much his bond-mate had corrupted him. How much his love for her had changed him. Instead of disdain and anger for Lyan, he found himself wondering how the Vesti, known far and wide for stretching and bending Council law and managing to avoid serious sanctions, would handle the situation that he and Kye now found themselves in. “It grows more complicated each day Kye and I are with her,” Draigon admitted, taking a seat and motioning for Lyan to join him.

  Lyan sat, arranging the suede of his wings comfortably. “I will listen if you wish to share what has happened with her.”

  Draigon found it easier to show Lyan, to unroll the memories in a censored movie that ended with the events in her apartment. When he was done, Lyan shared images of his and Adan’s pursuit of Krista. How he had also killed the man who threatened their bond-mate.

  “It is a primitive planet and I admit to being glad we were able to convince Krista to return home with us,” Lyan said. “And you are correct, your situation is more complicated than the one Adan and I found ourselves in, but I can see a way for you to be with your bond-mate—if you are willing to remain on Earth.”

  “Council law—”

  Lyan held up a hand and Draigon halted. Surprise shuddering through him with the realization that he was willing to hear Lyan out.

  “First,” Lyan said, “your house is a respected one and you are an experienced bounty hunter whose talents would be of value to the scientists on Earth. Kye already serves the Council in such a way. And while Savannah’s duties are not the same, she is a law-keeper whose knowledge and training could complement yours and Kye’s.

  “Second, Council law does not require that you bring your bond-mate to Belizair. It states only that she must agree to return home with you—which your bond-mate has done. And that once here, you must live in Winseka until the first of your children is born.

  “And third, Council law states that our true forms can only be shown to our bond-mates in the transport chamber prior to transport. It says nothing about transport being mandatory once such a revelation is made.