The Bearens' Hope: Book Four of the Soul-Linked Saga

by Laura Jo Phillips

  Be honest with yourself, Hope, she admonished herself. The real problem with moving to Jasan would be the constant reminders of what should have been.

  She knew with every fiber of her being that she was meant to be with the Bearens, and that they were meant to be with her. But there were no guarantees in life, a lesson she had learned early and well. Somehow, the Fates had gotten their threads crossed, and the Bearens had fallen in love with Ellicia instead.

  She’s gone now, a little voice whispered in her mind. There’s no reason you can’t take her place.

  Hope paused a moment to consider that, but quickly shook her head. That would never work for her. She had no desire to spend the rest of her life knowing that she was anyone’s second choice. Since she was able to sense their emotions so clearly, she wouldn’t even be able to kid herself about it.

  She tied off her braid and flipped it over her shoulder, then separated the three oddly colored sections and braided them. When she was finished, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment. Only when she was satisfied that her feelings were hidden did she turn from the mirror and gather up the toiletries that Grace had purchased for her. She left the bathroom, put all of her things together in the bedroom and tied them into a neat bundle. Then she stripped the bed and went looking for a linen closet for clean bedding.

  By the time she reentered the kitchen she was ready to leave, so she was a little surprised to see the Bearens sitting at the table, obviously waiting for her.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Jackson said as he rose to his feet and pulled a chair out for her.

  “Actually, I’m not,” Hope replied, not entirely truthfully. “I’m sorry you waited for me, but you guys go ahead and eat and maybe I will see you later, at the hospital.”

  “You’re leaving now?” Clark asked in surprise.

  “Yes, I want to get down to the hospital and check on the babies,” she said.

  “You really should eat,” Jackson urged. “It won’t take long, and then we’ll go to the hospital together.”

  Rob reached out and lifted the covers off of the serving dishes in the center of the table, releasing delicious aromas into the room. Hope hesitated. She really was hungry, and had planned to grab something in the hospital cafeteria. Only now the food on the table looked too good to resist.

  “All right,” she agreed. She took the seat Jackson was still holding for her, picked up the napkin beside her plate and shook it out. She was surprised when Jackson picked up her plate and began putting food on it for her, and even more surprised when he passed it to Clark, who added a serving from another dish before passing it to Rob. By the time they were done she had a plate piled with food in front of her. She was uncertain whether she should be angry that they had served her as though she were a child, or pleased that they had such good manners.

  “Thanks,” she said uncertainly. “Um...is Grace still sleeping?”

  “No, she left a while ago,” Clark replied. “She got a call from the hospital telling her that Berta was conscious this morning, and she went to see her.”

  “That’s great news,” Hope said. “I was so worried about her.”

  They ate silently for a time, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence. There were too many strong emotions being bottled up by each of them. Hope felt as though she should say something, start some kind of conversation, but she could not think of a neutral subject besides the weather, and she was not quite that desperate.

  “How much do you know about the Brethren?” Jackson asked her, speaking so suddenly that it startled her.

  “Only what Berta told us,” she replied. “I’d never heard of them until I woke up in the desert the other day. What about you? What do you guys know about them?”

  “Very little,” Jackson replied. “We believe they are descendants of a race of beings called the Narrasti, who probably arrived on Earth several thousand years ago.”

  “Let me guess, the Narrasti were reptiles,” Hope said.

  “Yes,” Jackson replied. “Berta told you that?”

  Hope nodded.

  “Did she tell you anything else about them?”

  “She said that she overheard the guards mention that the leader of the Brethren was off-planet,” Hope replied. “I can’t remember his name though. She also said that we were taken because there was a chance we were each something called berezi, and that the leader was able to determine that by scent. If it turned out we were not berezi, we would have our memories wiped and be returned to our lives. Otherwise, we would be brood mares to the most reptilian of them.” Hope thought a moment. “That’s about all she told us. It was enough.”

  “Sounds like we need to spend some time talking with Berta,” Jackson said.

  “Be careful with her,” Hope said, frowning sternly at him. “She’s been a prisoner for over sixty years, and she’s not in the best of health.”

  “We would treat her with the utmost respect, as a woman, as an elder, and as one who has endured with great courage,” Jackson said, surprised that she would think otherwise.

  “I don’t know why the Brethren matter to you guys anyway,” Hope said. “You’re leaving for Jasan soon, and the Brethren are an Earth problem.”

  Clark frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Jackson shook his head sharply and he subsided. It was clear that Hope was very tense about something, and she appeared to be angry with them. Jackson wasn’t sure why, but he doubted it had anything to do with whether the Brethren were an Earth problem or not. As much as he wanted to ask her about it, instinct told him that this was not the right time for it. He searched for something else to say, watching as Hope reached for the glass of juice in front of her plate.

  “Do you mind if I look more closely at the markings on your wrist?” he asked.

  Hope took a drink from her glass before setting it down and holding her wrist out for Jackson to see.

  “They are very beautiful,” he said after a moment. “What is their meaning?”

  “They’re birds that we call owls,” Hope replied. “My family is Greek, and this particular style of the bird is very old in the Greek culture. This one is for my mother, Minerva,” Hope said, turning her wrist and pointing at the one with eyes the color of a spring sky. “This one is for my Aunt Olivia,” she said, indicating one with green eyes. “This one is for my cousin Harlan, and this one is for me,” she concluded, indicating the one with amber eyes, and the one with turquoise eyes.

  “They are to remind me that even though my loved ones are no longer here, they are always with me.”

  Hope’s voice broke half way through the last sentence, but she forced herself to finish, and refused to allow her tears to fall. The surprise she felt when all three Bearens set their forks down, raised their right fists to their hearts, and bowed their heads, helped her to regain control of her emotions.

  “That is our way of expressing our sorrow for your losses,” Jackson said after a moment. Hope could only nod, the sudden lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. Maybe she didn’t have such good control after all.

  “The lettering in between each owl,” Jackson said after Hope had a moment to compose herself. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s the names of my family written in Greek,” Hope replied.

  “You know Greek?” Clark asked.

  “Some,” Hope replied. “Why?”

  Clark tapped his vox, then removed it from his ear and held it out to Hope. “Can you listen to this and let us know if you understand it?” he asked. “We’ve been trying to translate it for weeks now.”

  “I can try,” Hope said as she accepted the vox and put it to her ear. Clark reached over and gave the vox a short double-tap, and Hope heard a woman’s voice speak into her ear. She smiled.

  “Sure, I know what that means,” she said. “My Mom used to say that to me when I was a child. It’s an old Greek proverb. It means When all is gone, there is still hope.”

  The Bearens stared at her
for a long moment which made her uncomfortable again. She handed the vox back to Clark and reached for her juice, just to have something to do. When she set the glass back down, she decided she had eaten enough, and put her napkin on the table.

  “If you’re finished, we can leave now,” Jackson offered.

  “Yes, thank you,” Hope said.

  All of a sudden she had an intense need to see the babies. She wondered about that as she followed the Bearens out of the bungalow and through the neatly paved streets of the base to the hospital. It wasn’t until she stepped into the hospital elevator that she realized that she did still have family left, after all. Those babies were Harlan’s sons, which made them blood relatives. And soon, the Bearens would be taking them to the far end of the Thousand Worlds where she might never see them again.

  Chapter 49

  Jasan, Dracon’s Ranch

  Darleen was nervous about facing the Jasani Princes. Particularly High Prince Garen. It was no secret that he didn’t like her, and she understood why. She only hoped that he would not let his personal feelings stand in the way of allowing her to do what she knew she had to do.

  She walked just behind and to the left of Summer, guarding her back as they made their way across the valley to the cluster of buildings in the center. She was always a little surprised to see how quickly the wide expanse of lush blue grass had been transformed from prime cattle pasture into a small military base on the Dracons’ ranch.

  “Are you nervous?” Summer asked as they reached the graveled lane that ran between the two rows of buildings.

  “A little,” Darleen replied. “I don’t understand why he wants me to make my request personally.”

  “He’s heard that you’ve changed,” Summer said. “Maybe he wants to see for himself.”

  Darleen shrugged. “I can’t be what I’m not,” she said. After a moment she shook her head. “That’s not true, actually. I can be what I’m not. I’ve had years of practice doing it and frankly, I was damn good at it. A truer statement would be I will not be what I’m not, and I am no longer the woman he once knew.”

  Summer stopped and turned to look at her friend. “Darleen, there is something I am curious about.”

  “I will tell you anything you wish to know,” Darleen replied.

  “What is it that you want to be, now?” Summer asked. Darleen’s eyes blinked in surprise. Then she smiled one of her rare, honest smiles.

  “I should have known that such a question would come from you,” she said.

  It was Summer’s turn to be surprised. “What did you think I was going to ask?”

  “Nothing that I should have expected from you, that’s for sure,” Darleen replied. “To answer your question, what I want to be now is a warrior. I want to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I want to help those who need help.” Darleen glanced down at her feet and shrugged with embarrassment. “I suppose that, in short, I want to be like you.”

  “Me?” Summer asked with a laugh. “That’s very flattering, Darleen, and I thank you for it, but I think you are already a warrior, and always have been.”

  Darleen’s head jerked up, her wide blue eyes meeting Summer’s dark, chocolate ones. “I’m not sure why you say that,” she said slowly. “I was not remotely warrior-like before. Saige is teaching me tiketa, and Doc has been teaching me how to use a knife, and I’ve gotten fairly good with this hand laser, but these are all new skills.”

  “I’m not talking about skills,” Summer said patiently. “I think that much of what you did in your former life was an expression of your deep need to fight, and win, no matter the cost. Those are traits that every true warrior needs.”

  Darleen frowned thoughtfully. “I have to think on that one,” she said. “A lot.”

  Summer smiled and began walking again. She had spent a lot of time trying to reconcile the Darleen that she knew with the stories of Darleen from before her time as Lio’s prisoner. She just didn’t believe that it was possible for a person’s basic personality to change that much. Traits can be changed, of course. Someone with anger issues can learn to control their anger. A person who is shy can learn to overcome their shyness. But from all Summer had heard, either Darleen had become a completely different person, or she had found more constructive, positive and meaningful methods of expressing certain aspects of her personality.

  The latter had the ring of truth to Summer. If she was right, then perhaps it would do Darleen good to understand that about herself. In the end, it didn’t really matter whether other people forgave Darleen for her past actions, or not. What mattered was whether or not Darleen could forgive herself.

  Summer led the way to the hybrid ranch/base med-center where the interview with Mara was to take place, and pushed the door open. She smiled at Saige and the Lobos, and crossed the room to greet Maxim, Loni and Ran. A few moments later Prince Garen and Lariah arrived, followed by Prince Trey and Prince Val. Once all of the greetings were finished, Prince Garen turned to Darleen.

  “Miss Flowers,” he said in a polite, but cool voice.

  Darleen bowed. “High Prince,” she replied. Summer noted with pride in her friend that there was nothing in Darleen’s expression or manner that revealed her nervousness.

  “I understand that you wish to be present during the interview with Ms. Winicke.”

  “That is partially correct,” Darleen replied. “I wish to be present, but I would also ask that I be allowed a few moments with her alone, before Princess Lariah, Arima Saige and Arima Summer join us.”

  “Why do you make this request?” Prince Garen asked.

  “I wish to insure the safety of the other women,” Darleen replied, “and also set the proper tone for the interview before it begins.”

  Prince Garen stared into Darleen’s eyes for a long moment. Then, much to the surprise of everyone present, he nodded once.

  “Your request is granted, Miss Flowers,” he said. “I believe that one of the exam rooms has been set up for this meeting, and that Ms. Winicke is already present.”

  “Yes, High Prince, that is so,” Faron said. He turned and led the way down a narrow hall with many doors. He stopped at one, opened it, and gestured the group inside. There were several chairs set around the room and everyone sat down.

  “We’ll wait in here,” Faron said, “The meeting will take place in the next room. We have a vid set up, of course, though Mara Winicke is not aware of it.”

  Faron turned to Darleen. “If you will follow me, Darleen?”

  Darleen stood and followed Faron out of the room, up the hall a few feet and into another, identical room. This room had a table with four chairs set around it, one of which contained the frizzy haired form of Mara Winicke.

  Mara sat in the bare cold room that was usually used as a medical exam room. The exam table had been replaced by a rectangular wood table and four metal chairs. The rest of the room had been stripped. Mara knew that because she had checked every drawer and cabinet the moment the guard closed and locked the door behind her.

  Mara had been told only that the Princess, and two other Arimas, wished to talk with her. Then she’d been brought to this room where she’d been sitting alone for about an hour. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that they wanted something from her, and it had taken even less time to figure out what. They wanted information, of course.

  If those women thought for a moment that she was cowed, or that she would roll over and tell them anything they wanted to know just because she’d been locked up for a couple of months, they would soon learn better. This was the closest thing to excitement she had felt in a long time, and she planned to enjoy herself immensely with these air-headed little twits.

  Mara was looking forward to the coming interview, and in fact, could barely wait for it to start. Finally, she had the upper hand again. If they wanted information, they were going to have to play her game, by her rules. All she had to do was figure out what demands to make. Freedom was at the top of the list, of course
, but she doubted these women had anything close to enough power to make that happen. But there were plenty of other things she wanted.

  Like a better place to sleep. One of those guest cabins would do. And food. She had a long list of foods she wanted. She was sick of the slop they’d been feeding her. Yes, there were a lot of things to ask for, and she would demand them all.

  The door knob rattled as the lock was released, then the door opened and Faron Lobo stepped into the room. He didn’t even glance in her direction, which was irritating. Mara’s irritation vanished when she saw the woman who followed him in. Whoever she was, she caused the breath to freeze in Mara’s throat.

  The woman was a bit on the thin side, and of average height. She was dressed all in black, but there was nothing special about her clothes. Scuffed black leather boots, slim black pants, and a sleeveless black top. She wore a black leather belt with several objects hanging from it, and black leather gloves that had the fingers cut off.

  She had very short, light blonde hair, no more than half an inch long which, much to Mara’s annoyance, looked exceptionally good on her. Her skin was very pale, and covered with fine white scars on her face, neck and arms.

  There was nothing remotely formidable about her physically, but for some reason Mara felt a frisson of fear race up her spine. She tried to shake it off, but when she looked into the woman’s cool blue eyes she sensed that this was the most dangerous woman she had ever met in her life.

  “I will bring another chair in a moment,” Faron said quietly.

  The woman shook her head, a tiny movement that was just enough to express her meaning, no more and no less. Faron left the room, closing and locking the door behind himself.

  The moment Faron was gone, Mara felt the other woman’s full attention focus on her, and it was not a comfortable feeling. Fear was not an emotion that Mara liked, so she immediately struck out.