Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series)

by Susan Kearney

  He kept his mouth closed and muttered, “Need salt.”

  “Stubborn man.” She shoved the chip between his lips. “This has salt on it. Eat.”

  Obediently he opened his mouth. She slipped the chip between his perfect white teeth and watched in satisfaction as he chewed, and his lips broke into a blissful smile. “Good. More, please.”

  She’d fed him chips until he’d revived enough to sit up and stuff huge handfuls into his mouth. His gray pallor disappeared, and his normal bronze returned. So did the sparkle in his eyes.

  Shara warned Cade, “Hey, if you don’t slow down, you’ll give yourself a stomachache.”

  He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how good these chips taste?”

  She laughed in relief. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll get fat.” The supply that she’d figured would last a week was almost gone.

  “On Rama, no one is fat.”

  “Are there food shortages?” Shara asked, puzzled. She didn’t understand how his people possessed the technology to undertake space travel but not have enough resources to feed their people.

  “Salt is the catalyst that lets our bodies digest nutrients. We don’t have enough to go around.”

  “What about the Firsts? None of them ever eat too much?”

  “They burn up the calories with mental effort.”

  “What kind of mental effort?” When he’d described the Firsts’ powerful minds before, they’d sounded arrogant, cruel, and pampered. Were they intellectuals, too? Shara desperately needed to grasp the basics of his culture.

  Shadows darkened his eyes. “Firsts control the rest of us with mental domination. We call their ability Quait.”

  “What?” She tried to keep revulsion from her tone, but even with her acting skills, she failed to disguise her extreme distaste. Hadn’t he told her he’d used Quait to help them escape the fire?

  Cade’s matter-of-fact tone only made his revelation more sickening. “Using Quait, they can make us do whatever they like.”

  “Anything?” She raised her brow in skepticism, horrified at even the idea of helping such monsters.

  “Anything. Rape. Torture. Murder.” His tone was flat, and he kept eating the chips.

  His casual demeanor put the scary into his words. Such brutality and cruelty on his world was apparently commonplace, but she couldn’t let the knowledge soften her. Yet, as she met his steely gaze and realized he must have left out terrible details to spare her, part of her melted.

  “So if the Firsts are all powerful,” Jules asked from the front seat, “how did you escape?”

  “They can’t read minds. We kept our plans a secret. What they didn’t know about, they couldn’t stop.”

  “So why doesn’t Jamar just walk up to you, do his mental Quait thing, and stop you?”

  “He hasn’t gotten that close to me.”

  “But when he does?”

  “I’m trying to avoid him.”

  “So his strength over you depends upon his proximity?” Shara asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What about us?” Jules asked.

  Cade frowned. “What about you?”

  Jules’s tone filled with revulsion. “Can Jamar control Terrans the way he controls people on Rama?”

  19

  “I don’t have all the answers,” Cade told Shara.

  She suspected her next words would upset him and took his hand. “Cade, does anyone besides your Firsts have mental powers?”

  “Not on Rama.” He stopped eating the chips and stared out the window, avoiding her gaze. “My people believe, or most believe, that Firsts are special born and deserve the majority of the salt due to their abilities.”

  “So you have no special mental abilities?”

  “No.”

  “Then how did you survive the crash into the ocean? You fell thousands of feet without a parachute and sustained no life-threatening injury, just a dislocated shoulder.”

  Cade’s eyes narrowed. “There are people on your world who have survived such a fall, yes?”

  “Not without power packs—special suits with jets to brake their fall. And those people didn’t also walk through a wall of fire without so much as scorching their eyebrows.”

  At her words, Cade looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion, or denial. “Are you suggesting I . . . that I could have . . .”

  “Before you passed out, you told me you used Quait to save us.”

  “I did?” He wore a tough mask, and yet a slice of vulnerability and shock leaked through. Her stomach churned as she watched that vulnerability change to revulsion and horror.

  “It’s just not possible. I’m not a First.”

  “You did something to get us through that fire,” Shara mused. “Perhaps Quait is instinctive?”

  “I don’t know.” Cade raked his hands through his hair, looking lost. And fierce.

  “Maybe all that salt you’re eating is changing you into one of them,” Jules suggested.

  “Never.” Pain in his soul escaped through his eyes and struck her hard. “I’d rather end my life than turn into a First.”

  At his words, her breath was like a knife in her chest. Sickened at the sight of Cade’s stricken look, she took his hand. “Whoa . . . let’s slow down here.”

  “You don’t understand.” Cade’s voice filled with a flat dread and disgust. “On Rama, Firsts take pleasure in cruelty. I’ve seen Firsts compel men to rape women they love. I’ve seen men and women coerced into killing their brothers and sisters and children—all for the Firsts’ amusement.” He closed his eyes but not before she read his agony, and it sliced her heart. She wanted to soothe him, take care of him. “I have seen little children . . . the children go hungry and live in constant fear of . . .”

  “Stop it.” Shara couldn’t stand his emotional pain, which was even worse than watching him when he’d suffered from the lack of salt. “Just because you may be gaining Quait powers doesn’t mean you’ll have their moral compass.”

  “Power corrupts,” Jules muttered. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  He cupped Shara’s face, brushed away her tears with his thumbs.

  The tenderness of his gesture shocked her.

  Cade’s tone turned sad, then determined. “Before I turn into a First, I shall end my life.”

  “Don’t you ever say that again.” Shara locked gazes with him. Her heart—her damned vulnerable heart—hurt for him. She locked her arms around him in a fierce embrace, then leaned back to look him in the eyes. “Life is a gift. It’s precious. Not to be wasted or thrown away.”

  “You don’t understand. Quait is evil.”

  “But you aren’t evil. You won’t use Quait like that. You couldn’t.”

  His hands fisted. “I won’t do to others what has been done to me.”

  “Will the rest of your people be so noble?” Jules asked. “If you build that portal, they’ll come here.”

  “They have no interest in Earth,” Cade told her.

  Jules snorted and rolled her eyes at the hovercar’s ceiling. “You’re here. Jamar is here. How will you prevent more Ramans from coming? You couldn’t even stop your brother from burning my house.”

  “It’s not his fault,” Shara scowled at Jules, her heart tearing.

  “I’m just saying the truth.”

  “Maybe his Quait will help him defeat Jamar.”

  Cade held her hand tightly. “On Rama, Jamar would hold every advantage. He’s had salt his entire life. I can never catch up for what I lacked during childhood. Don’t expect me to approach his ability.”

  “Didn’t you tell me that Jamar is weakening as he spends time on Earth?” Shara asked.

  “That’s only one theory. On Rama, a First has total and full control of their powers all the time. Here Jamar may have moments of weakness.”

  “Perhaps here, you can defeat your brother,” Shara suggested.

  “That is my hope.”

  “Can you draw on
your Quait, right now?” Shara asked. The idea of stopping Cade before had seemed difficult. If he grew stronger, stopping him would be impossible.

  Cade’s brows narrowed. “It seems only my strongest emotions activate my own powers from dormancy. Right now, I’m totally normal.”

  “Right. A totally normal alien.” Jules’s expression turned dark and brooding. “But your powers will grow stronger as you ingest more salt?”

  “I don’t know. In all of Raman history, no underfirst has ever displayed any First abilities whatsoever.”

  “Are there any other Ramans in this solar system besides you and Jamar?”

  Jules must be thinking about the scientist on Io. Shara held her breath, waiting for Cade’s response.

  “I thought I would be the only one from my world to come here. But if Jamar made it, it’s possible there are others here, too, but not likely.”

  Jules accused him, “When more Ramans do come to Earth—”

  “That’s not the plan.”

  “—you’ll pull us into your confrontation. Destroy us all, rip us apart.”

  “That’s not my intention.”

  “Your intentions don’t matter.” Jules glared at Cade in the mirror. “Your actions speak for themselves.”

  Cade’s vidlink beeped. He glanced at it, then shut it down with a frustrated snap. “There’s a dust storm on Mars. Our ride to the space station has been delayed.”

  “How long?” Shara and Jules asked at the same time.

  “At least twelve hours.”

  “Jules, change of plans.” Shara punched coordinates into the navigation system. “We’ve got time to spare, and I know just the place to go.”

  20

  While the women decided their route and stopped at a roadside stand for supplies, Cade’s thoughts drifted.

  The sudden appearance of his Quait powers disturbed him. But he needed to gain as much Quait as possible to defeat Jamar, even if the idea sickened him. Even if it turned him into pure evil.

  Cade shuddered. And dealt. As a child he’d learned to compartmentalize. When a First made him scrub floors until his knees bled, he’d pushed back the pain by thinking about his dinner. When he’d returned from running away, and a First had made him kill and eat a pet cataw he’d befriended, Cade had gone elsewhere in his mind.

  The past had been painful enough. The last thing he wanted to do was remember it again and again. So he shut down the horror. Went elsewhere in his mind.

  Shara stretched her arms over her head. “The delay’s going to be okay.”

  “If you say so,” he agreed, running a finger from her temple to her cheek.

  She arched her back, and her breasts rose, causing the fabric to stretch and tighten across her chest. At a rest area, the women had stopped at a souvenir stand and acquired clothing to replace their smoky shirts. Although Shara hadn’t complained, hers was a tad too small. Disheveled and sleepy, she looked the perfect combination of sexy woman and sassy girl. And he couldn’t help admiring the smooth skin of her flat stomach that teased just above the line of her jeans.

  When she noticed the direction of his gaze, she tugged down her shirt, but the fabric wouldn’t close the enticing gap, leaving a taunting inch of bare skin and saucy navel. Cade realized that this world might not have the technology that had produced the flight suit that would clothe him for another day or so, but it did have advantages . . . like this beautiful, intelligent woman.

  “Hey,” Jules interrupted. “Now where are we going?”

  “I need to see someone downtown.” Shara uploaded data into her vidlink. “You should have the coordinates on your navigator.”

  “Got it.” Jules punched in directions.

  Cade placed his arm over Shara’s shoulders. He liked touching her. He liked drawing her against his side, her softness pressed against him. And he liked finding out what was going on inside her head.

  “We need to figure out what happened at Jules’s house.”

  Cade frowned. “I explained as best I could.”

  Shara’s voice turned hard and determined, but the businesslike effect was spoiled as her T-shirt rose up over her belly again. “I’m not talking about Quait. I want to find out who burned down Jules’s house.”

  “We don’t have time. I will pay for the damage,” he offered, then looked out the window and watched the sun rising over the city, all hot streaks of red and stripes of magenta.

  “Look.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We can’t leave until the rocket gets here. So we might as well make the most of the delay.”

  “I don’t understand,” Cade told her.

  “It’s possible that someone else besides Jamar might have burned down Jules’s house.”

  “It doesn’t matter who burned down the house.” He tried to control his impatience. “We don’t have time for justice or retribution. Besides, I’m fairly certain the fire was Jamar’s doing.”

  “How did he know you were with me?” Jules asked.

  “He’s resourceful and has unlimited funds. It won’t take Jamar long to find us again since he knows we’ll be heading to Mars.”

  Shara snuggled against his side. “Won’t he be delayed by the space station holding pattern—same as us?”

  “Not if Jamar flies his Raman ship.”

  “Can he land during a Martian dust storm?” Shara asked.

  “Maybe. It depends on the storm. And it doesn’t matter who set that fire—”

  “Of course it matters who tried to kill us.” Shara’s breast rubbed against his side as she cuddled. “It’s possible the fire didn’t have anything to do with your brother. Maybe someone is after me. Or Jules. It was her home.”

  Cade found that hard to believe. “Why would anyone want to kill either of you?”

  “During my life, I’ve been stalked twice. I’ve had death threats. My former profession . . . often drew out the nutcases.” He suspected that period in her life had been painful. Clearly, from the shortness of her breathing, the memories still bothered her. Then, as if regaining control, she squared her shoulders and sat up straighter. “That was over for me five years ago, but some fans obsess and have long memories.”

  He changed the subject slightly. “Why would someone be after Jules?”

  “She’s a psychic. Maybe one of her clients didn’t like her reading. My point is that we need to know if we have more than just Jamar after us.”

  “How can we gain this knowledge without letting it slow our journey?”

  “When I lived here, I hired a security company to protect me. They have many resources, and I intend to hire them to investigate.”

  “This must be done in person?”

  “Maybe not. But I also need to arrange for false identification and a disguise. That, we must do in person. Otherwise, we’ll attract too much attention and make it too easy for Jamar to find us.”

  “‘Us’? He’s not looking for you.”

  “If he’s the one who burned down Jules’s home, then he knows we’re together. I can’t have our every movement documented in the press.”

  She was thinking ahead, making plans, but not including him in the process—as if she didn’t trust him. “There’s something else you aren’t telling me.”

  Her mouth twisted in a small smile of acknowledgment. “My investigator, Teresa Alverez, might be able to find and track Jamar.”

  “Jamar is too dangerous for your people to encounter directly,” Cade disagreed.

  Jules sucked in a breath. “I’m with Cade on this one.”

  “Wouldn’t it help to know where Jamar’s base of operations is? Where his ship is?” Shara’s eyes challenged his, and he enjoyed seeing the sparkle back. Clearly taking the initiative agreed with her disposition. “Teresa’s a top-notch investigator. She can search for his base as well as his whereabouts now, discover his contacts. Even finding out how long he’s been here might be helpful.”

  “You’re right. Information would be helpful.” Cade brushed Sha
ra’s hair from her brow, kissed her temple, breathed in her scent. And tucked her even closer under his arm.

  She kept him in the moment. She made him feel like himself. She made him hunger . . .

  21

  “Report,” Jamar ordered his private investigator, beckoning the lackey into his hotel suite.

  “Good afternoon, sir.” As Tom Grayson stepped through the office threshold, Jamar’s latest whore made a gesture to pull together the tear in her blouse.

  Jamar had been celebrating his victory over killing Cade by tormenting the female. His luck had changed for the better when Cade had activated the locator beacon before the fire had taken his life. Now Jamar could follow the signal to Mars, engage it to set off the next beacon, and then the next—before he headed home, his mission accomplished. With Cade reduced to ashes, Jamar was in no huge rush to go after the beacon until he finished tying up some loose ends.

  “I didn’t give you permission to move,” Jamar snapped at the woman.

  As her eyes lowered in misery and she dropped her hands to her side, he gloated at her submission.

  Jamar applied the pressure of his mind to force Grayson’s eyes only on him—not because he gave a damn if the PI saw the partially-naked twit, but because it amused him to prolong her embarrassment. Even though she was dumber than a stick, even she had to realize that after he dismissed the PI, he’d get an eyeful on his way out.

  With Grayson’s eyes forced front and center due to the power of Jamar’s mind, the PI’s expression showed confusion over his limited mobility, but nevertheless he stuck to business. “I’m afraid the news isn’t very good.”

  “Be precise.” Jamar’s confidence of success and the expectation of going home to receive accolades from his cohorts began to fade. Nothing on this infernal planet ever seemed to go as planned.

  “I checked with the arson investigator. The house burned to the ground.”

  “But?”

  “The house robot melted. But there were no casualties.”