However, before he could speculate on her future, he had to ensure that she had one.
* * *
An angel wouldn’t have asked who Raj was. An angel would’ve known.
Then again, he hadn’t said whether he was an angel. He’d only claimed he wasn’t planning to take her to Raj.
Pain soon expunged any doubts from Sula’s mind. Had she been on her way to the afterlife prior to being reincarnated into another form, she doubted the body of her current life would’ve troubled her quite so much. Therefore, he was no angel—certainly not like any angel she’d ever heard about.
Nor was he like any living being she’d ever seen. A man with pointed ears, feline eyes, and enormous wings? Unless the wings weren’t real. They’d certainly looked real when he’d been sailing through the sky above her. Plenty of black and gray white-tipped feathers, arranged row upon row like those of a bird. Or was she confusing him with the birds in the cave? In the short time before she’d passed out, she’d seen drawings of them on the cave wall, being hunted by primitive humanoids. She’d finally found the evidence she’d been searching for.
The question was, could she ever find it again?
The warm sunshine beating down on her face was proof enough that she was no longer in the cave. She wasn’t lying in a pile of stones, either. The ground beneath her was relatively soft, and a gentle breeze carried the fragrance of fresh, green grass to her nose—a smell quite unlike the dank odor peculiar to caves, particularly those inhabited by birds.
Her leg still pained her, although she could tell that it was at least lying straight. The initial shock of the break that had brought on her fainting spell had passed. She was thirsty, almost to the point that her tongue seemed cemented to the roof of her mouth. An attempt to moisten her lips failed.
Within moments, a hand slipped behind her head, and a cup was held to her lips. As the cool water soothed her parched mouth, she recalled doing the same for Raj in the last hours of his life.
Dear, sweet Raj. So intelligent, such a promising student, and the one man she would never forget. The love of her life—or rather, the lost love of her life—and she’d had to watch him die.
She’d been helpless to prevent his death or even ease his suffering. The aftereffects of the disease were nearly as bad. Within hours, even his body was gone; nothing remained of him aside from the clothes he’d been wearing and a pile of dust that was soon scattered by the wind.
Surrounded by an eerie silence, she’d returned to their ship. Purely out of habit, she’d gone through the decontamination process. The scanner proclaimed her to be free of disease, although she hadn’t been sure she could trust even that. She and Raj had gone through a similar process prior to their departure, and yet Raj had been among the first to fall ill. They’d had minimal contact with the natives, observing rather than interacting with them directly. Granted, they’d barely begun their study before Raj began to feel sick, but on the whole, the natives had seemed industrious and intelligent and appeared to live together in relative harmony. Rather strange in appearance, perhaps, but that was to be expected.
Not nearly as strange as her rescuer. Despite being somewhat afraid to take another look, she opened her eyes a teensy bit.
The wings were gone.
So they weren’t real after all.
The long golden curls remained, as did the peculiar eyes. Rather than the usual dark, round pupils, his were vertical slits that emitted a soft, golden glow. His ears came to a point like those of a storybook elf, and a pair of straight brows slanted up toward his temples.
“Glad you’re awake,” he said. Then he smiled, revealing his sharp fangs.
A scream had nearly left her throat when she remembered something from her studies that caused her to gasp instead—a textbook description of a nearly extinct species of feline humanoids.
“You’re Zetithian.”
Chapter 2
“I’m impressed,” he said, and judging from his tone, he actually meant it. “Most people have never heard of us.”
Sula had heard of them, all right. After learning about the sexual abilities of Zetithian males, she and her classmates had joked that they would dearly love to hook up with one of them someday.
Of course, that was before she met Raj.
“I’m working on a PhD in anthropology,” she said. “I’ve probably learned something about every humanoid species in the known galaxy.”
“Then I’m doubly impressed, although I’m kinda surprised we made it into a textbook.” He arched a brow. “Or are we listed as extinct?”
“Nearly extinct,” she replied. “Definitely on the endangered list.”
A smile touched his lips. “We’re working on fixing that.”
“So I’ve heard,” she said, not bothering to keep the dryness from her tone. According to her textbook, Zetithian children were nearly always born in litters of three, and the males could mate with any number of different species and still produce triplets that at least had the appearance of purebreds. The prevailing theory was that, along with their dominant genes, Zetithian semen acted as a fertility drug, triggering multiple ovulations. Perhaps the Zetithians’ most unusual and endearing trait was that they weren’t simply monogamous—they truly mated for life. Perhaps “hooking up” with one of them wasn’t possible after all, at least not in the usual sense.
“So tell me, Sula, why would an anthropologist be exploring an uninhabited region that only a condor could love? Or were you searching for a man with wings? If so, I believe I can point you in the right direction. My friend Val has real wings. But you didn’t have to come all the way out here to find him.”
She tucked her upper lip firmly between her teeth. Revealing her suspicions would do him no good and might even get him killed. Only this time, no bounty would be paid on his body as there would have been in the past. He would simply disappear, never to be heard from again.
Like Raj…
She couldn’t even tell Raj’s family what had happened to him. Nor did she know how much they already knew. Having already been targeted once since she’d left Ecos, she had opted to keep moving. Their ship was a research vessel belonging to the university, which meant that selling it required her to deal with some rather shady characters. And while she’d somehow managed to come out of that adventure unscathed and had since managed to remain incognito, this particular man had pegged her costume almost immediately.
Her natural curiosity got the better of her. “Indiana Jones? I didn’t think anyone would remember him.”
If he wondered why she hadn’t answered his question, it didn’t show. Still smiling, he sat back on his heels. “You’re discounting my upbringing. I grew up on a starship owned by a woman who’s a huge fan of Old Earth culture. I probably know more about what went on a thousand years ago than I do about current events.”
She frowned as she recalled that much of her life had also been spent studying the past. However, none of that study had prepared her for the mess she’d gotten herself into. “I know the feeling.”
Partly. She certainly hadn’t grown up on a starship. If she had, she wouldn’t have had quite so much trouble flying the Dalb Explorer to Rhylos. Fortunately, the onboard computer and the autopilot were both very helpful, although she still had a hard time believing she’d actually done it. Raj had been much better at such things than she.
Tears filled her eyes at the thought of him. He’d been gone for almost a year now, but the wound still seemed fresh. Even if she hadn’t loved him, his had been such a wasteful, needless death.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Was I too rough?”
His meaning wasn’t immediately clear. Too rough with what? Moving her? Time seemed out of sync somehow. What happened in the past was intruding into the present, then retreating to leave confusion in its wake. “No. I’m okay.” She dashed her tears away with a
grimy finger.
“Here,” he whispered. “Let me do that.” He cupped her face in his palms and dried her tears with an unexpectedly gentle touch, almost as if he could feel the pressure of his thumbs on her face from her perspective. “That’s better.”
“Thank you.” Her reply was even less than a whisper. More of a moving of her lips, not trusting her voice not to crack.
“No problem,” he said. “Now we need to figure out how to get you to a hospital. I can fly you part of the way, but—”
She put up both hands. “No hospitals.” Desperation triggered the break in her voice she’d feared. “Please.”
Narrowing his eyes, he folded muscular arms over a broad chest, which she realized for the first time was bare and appeared to be every bit as powerful as his arms. “Mind telling me why? Or is it the same reason you’re doing an Indiana Jones impersonation out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She racked her brain for every particle of information she could recall about Zetithians. Their sexual prowess overshadowed several laudable traits, the most significant being their inherent honesty.
He could most likely be trusted with any confidence, although part of what she’d already done fell outside the law on almost any world. Then again, this was Rhylos, and as the slogan went, Anything goes on Rhylos. There were laws, however.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
She drew in a deep breath, which, surprisingly, didn’t cause her any pain. “For now.”
“Something illegal?”
“Not entirely.” She hadn’t technically stolen a starship, even though the one she’d sold didn’t belong to her in any manner other than possession being nine-tenths of the law. She bit her lip again, determined not to say anything further.
He glanced skyward as though seeking strength from the heavens. “So I’m supposed to leave you here to provide food for the condor chicks?”
“I’d much rather you didn’t.”
“Wasn’t planning to. No point in rescuing you only to abandon you to your fate.” His gaze made a sweep of the surrounding area. “Don’t suppose you have a speeder stashed somewhere nearby, do you?”
“No. I needed to save my credits for more important things.”
He nodded. “Like food and clothing.”
“Yeah. That stuff.”
“And a good pair of boots. That is, if you walked all the way from Damenk.”
She studied him for a long moment. “How is it that you can fly?” Zetithians might have sexual abilities that were second to none, but she’d never heard it said that they were capable of flight, even with artificial wings.
His eyes became shuttered, and where it had once been open and friendly, his posture now seemed guarded. “That’s my secret.”
She considered striking a bargain with him but ultimately decided she didn’t need to know how or why he could fly. She only needed to know that he could. In her current predicament, she had no choice but to trust him. Coming at a time when she’d concluded she couldn’t trust anyone, this realization shook her.
I already should’ve died several times over.
Raj was dead. Her only reason to go on living was to prevent further deaths. That was if her suspicions were correct, and she was fairly certain they were. In the weeks following her escape from Ecos, she was haunted by Raj’s last words: “This is how they did it, Sula. It’s happening again.” Those words were more than enough to start the wheels turning in her head, perhaps to the point of imagining conspiracies where none existed. Granted, she might be suffering from latent paranoia, although considering everything she’d been through recently, a touch of paranoia was not only to be expected, it was essential to her continued safety.
“I guess we’re even, then.”
“So it would seem.” He slapped his hands on his thighs as though he’d made up his mind. “Okay, then. No hospitals—although you’re placing an awful lot of faith in my ability to set a broken leg. You could end up with a limp for the rest of your life, if you’re even able to walk again. The break of a long bone can also cause a fatty embolus. Or you could throw a blood clot to the brain. Either of those things could cause a massive stroke and leave you paralyzed if they don’t kill you outright.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
He shrugged. “Just calling it as I see it. My mother has always been a healer. I’ve picked up a lot of knowledge from her. I’d take you to her if she weren’t halfway across the galaxy at the moment. The other option is to take you to a Zerkan friend of mine. He could cure you pretty quickly, although their ‘cures’ are sometimes worse than the ailment.”
Sula also knew a little about Zerkans. He was right, of course; the lasting effects of the cure probably would be worse than those of the injury. A transient limp was infinitely preferable to having glowing red pupils for the rest of her life. She glanced at her leg. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. From my perspective, it looks as though you did a fine job.”
“I may have set it correctly, but I can’t make it heal any faster than normal. Without further intervention, you’re looking at six weeks in a splint.” He peered up at the sky again. “The wind is picking up. If I’m going to fly you anywhere, we need to get ahead of the storm.”
“What storm?”
He pointed eastward. “That storm.”
Massive dark, ominous clouds boiled up from the lower plain, spitting lightning in every direction. She hadn’t seen anything of the kind when she’d climbed up onto the plateau. “Oh my… How long was I out?”
“About three hours,” he replied. “Listen, if Mom, hospitals, and Zerkan healers are out, exactly where do you want to go?”
The last thing she wanted was to annoy her rescuer—a strikingly handsome Zetithian man whose name she didn’t even know. “I have no idea. Any other suggestions?”
“I could take you to my place, although that might be a bit presumptuous.”
“Is it secret?”
“Not really. It’s just a house in the Talwat district near where some friends of mine live. They run an orphanage in the brothel district. I work there sometimes. I could see if they have a bed for you.”
“No, thank you,” she said with a shudder. “I’d rather take my chances here than spend any time in an orphanage—especially one in the brothel district.”
His brow rose. “It isn’t that kind of orphanage. Trust me.”
Trusting him would make her next move so much easier, if only she could bring herself to do it. On the other hand, she couldn’t think of a single viable alternative. “I probably shouldn’t be too picky, especially when it doesn’t matter where you take me, as long as no one else knows where—or who—I am.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard. I don’t even know your full name. Sula, you said?”
“I never should’ve told you that.”
He chuckled. “I can call you Indy if you like.”
“Never mind. Sula is fine as long as no one else knows I’m there.”
Tilting his head to the side, he peered at her through narrowed lids. “You don’t strike me as the criminal type. What the devil did you do?”
She shook her head. “It isn’t about something I did. It’s about something I know.”
“Okay, Sula.” He held out a hand. “Aidan Banadänsk at your service. And believe me, I can keep a secret with the best of them.”
* * *
When she took his hand, Aidan fully expected images of her destiny to flow into his mind like a raging flood. Instead, he felt only the sort of things a man should feel when shaking hands with a beautiful woman who’d entrusted him with her life.
Most of those things, anyway. Without the scent of her desire, he didn’t react sexually, which wasn’t too surprising, considering how she seemed to feel about this Raj fellow—at least he
assumed Raj was a fellow. For all he knew, that might be the name of some sort of god.
He wasn’t exactly looking for a mate himself. His life was too complicated to bring anyone else into it. Even so, he would sooner betray his own secrets than betray hers, mainly because divulging his secrets wouldn’t result in any real danger. At least not right away. However, he suspected that if her secret were to become known, there would be more than enough danger for both of them.
“Speaking of secrets, who’s Raj?”
For a long moment, he thought she was going to ignore that question like she’d dodged most of the others he’d asked.
“Raj was my boyfriend,” she finally said. “He…died.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Her complacent shrug seemed at odds with her bleak expression. “He died about a year ago. It still feels like yesterday.”
Aidan had never lost any of his family or friends, let alone a lover—mainly because he’d never had one to lose—but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand the feeling. “I imagine it does.” He hesitated before asking, “Does his death have something to do with why you’re here?”
“In a way,” she replied. “I’m not out to avenge his death, exactly. I’m just trying to find out why he had to die.”
The plot thickens… “I take it he didn’t die of natural causes.”
She snorted with disgust. “If you can call the Scorillian plague natural.”
A long moment passed before he realized his jaw had dropped. “The Scorillian plague? Seriously? How did he manage to catch that? I thought it had been eradicated.”
“So did I,” was her tight-lipped reply.
“You’re sure that’s what it was?”
Her firm nod conveyed no doubts whatsoever. “Unless there’s another disease that reduces a body to dust in a matter of hours.”
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