Mystic

by Cheryl Brooks

  “If there is, I’ve never heard of it. I can’t imagine where or how he would catch it.” He fixed her with a quizzical gaze. “But I’m guessing you know—or at least have your suspicions.”

  She drew in a long breath, then blew it out as she shook her head. “I’ve already said too much. I don’t want to put you in any danger.”

  “Thanks, but we’ll worry about that later. Right now, we need to figure out where to go. If you don’t want to stay at my house or the orphanage, I have other friends who can be trusted.”

  To his surprise, she actually smiled—an expression that changed her from suspicious and wary to something far more approachable, perhaps even charming. “Like the one with real wings?”

  “Yeah. Being something of a recluse, Val doesn’t encourage visitors, so you’d be safe from prying eyes. Aside from his ability to fly, he’s also the best computer hacker you’ll find anywhere. His expertise might come in handy with your quest.” He hesitated. “But if you want his help—or mine—you’re going to have to trust us.”

  Her dark-brown eyes clouded with doubt. “Why would you want to risk your life for a cause you know nothing about? Especially one that doesn’t even affect you directly?”

  “Oh, Sula,” he said, chuckling as he patted her hand. “That textbook of yours didn’t include many details about Zetithians, did it? Our species was persecuted to near extinction and our planet destroyed, so we know what it’s like to be the underdog. Now that we’ve removed the threat to our own kind, fighting injustice is what we do.” With a grin, he added, “Some of us, anyway.”

  “So what are you? Some sort of vigilante?”

  “Not exactly. I’ve been helping out at the orphanage ever since I came of age. Haven’t been on any real adventures as of yet. But I have a few talents that might prove useful.”

  “You mean besides being able to fly?”

  “That’s right.”

  She still seemed doubtful, tipping her head to one side in a rather endearing manner. “What kind of talents?”

  “I have…visions.”

  “Visions?” she echoed with a scornful snort. “Seriously?”

  “Oh yeah. It’s a Zetithian thing. Happens to us every once in a while—some of us more than others.” For the time being, he deemed it best to avoid mentioning his Mordrial ancestry, although he might have to own up to his control of the winds eventually. His knack for fortune-telling was his deepest secret—an ability that seemed to have deserted him at the moment. “How else would I have found you?”

  Chapter 3

  Sula didn’t know whether to believe Aidan or not. Granted, Zetithians were purported to be honest and trustworthy, but this sounded completely preposterous, and his roguish grin suggested he might be teasing her. Still, she couldn’t argue with the incredible odds against him being in the right place at the right time—and she had seen him fly.

  “You have a point.”

  He rolled his eyes. “At last, she believes me.”

  “It didn’t take that long to convince me,” she said with a withering glance. “Although I’ll need further proof before I can fully credit you with having…visions.”

  If her lack of faith annoyed him, it wasn’t apparent in his casual shrug. “There’s plenty of anecdotal evidence to support my claim. No idea if anything has actually been documented since our planet was destroyed. Like you said, there aren’t very many of us left, and even I’m not a purebred. My father is Zetithian, but my mother is…Terran.”

  The hesitation in his speech piqued her interest.

  So…it’s something about his mother…

  She deemed it best not to prod him unnecessarily. At the moment, knowing his mother’s ancestry was fairly low on her list of priorities. Keeping on his good side was much more important. She doubted he would leave her to fend for herself with a broken leg even if she were to anger him, but she saw no point in making her rescue more difficult than it already was.

  “I’m Terran as well,” she said. “Originally from Bangalore, in southern India.”

  He nodded. “I thought you might be. Believe it or not, I’ve been to India. Interesting culture.” His gaze slid from her face to her boots and back again. “I notice you don’t favor the native dress.”

  “I’ve been known to wear a sari on occasion, although they aren’t terribly practical for field work.”

  His smile made her heart take a dip. “I don’t suppose they are. They’re quite beautiful, though. I’ve been all over the galaxy, and I’ve never seen fabrics that even begin to compare.”

  Heat prickled her face as though he’d complimented her directly. Why she should be so inordinately pleased by his appreciation of Indian fashions escaped her. She didn’t know whether to agree or simply thank him. In the end, she opted to do both. “Thank you. I feel the same way, even though I haven’t traveled as much as you have.”

  “Not that much, really. I should’ve specified the known galaxy, and only the major trade routes.”

  “Still more than I’ve done.”

  “I dunno… Rhylos is a long way from Earth.”

  “True. But aside from Earth, I’ve only been to two planets during the course of my studies.” Three if she counted Ecos. However, she wasn’t prepared to admit that just yet. “I went to university on Ursa Prime.”

  “Went? Didn’t you say you were working on your doctorate?”

  Ooh, he’s quick. At this rate, he would have everything figured out long before her broken leg even stopped hurting, much less healed.

  “My studies have been…interrupted.”

  “I see. Financial troubles?”

  This was one lie she had no qualms about telling. “Something like that.” She’d gone to Dalb University on a full scholarship. As matters now stood, going back there was out of the question.

  Unless I have proof…

  Closing her eyes, she did her best to think rationally, a task his proximity rendered difficult from a visual as well as a mental perspective. The sight of him was riveting, and not only because she viewed him through an anthropologist’s eyes.

  He was flat-out gorgeous. She’d seen attractive men before—Raj had ranked high on the list—but this guy cast the others in the shade. No wonder she’d mistaken him for an angel. Even with his alien features, he was too handsome to be real.

  Am I still unconscious and dreaming all of this?

  If so, she would recommend unconsciousness to—

  No. That was silly. Besides, Raj had been the man of her dreams. She wouldn’t be granted that sort of happiness a second time, even if she lived to be a hundred. In fact, the way things were going, she’d be lucky to make it to her next birthday.

  On the other hand, luck or fate or visions had sent Aidan to her. As omens went, he struck her as a pretty good one. She should take him at his word and make the most of him—and the help he offered.

  “Okay, Aidan. You can take me wherever you think is appropriate—except a hospital, of course. I have no desire to stay here and become condor food.”

  “That’s more like it.” He hopped to his feet. “It’ll be dark soon. We could wait until morning, although going in under the cover of darkness would probably be best.”

  “Go in where, exactly?”

  “Damenk,” he replied. “My house to start with. And don’t worry about security. Zetithians are something of a novelty, even on this crazy planet, so we have to take precautions to ensure our privacy. You’ll have plenty of time to recover without being bothered by anyone.” He grinned, once again revealing his fangs. “Unless you decide to let Giklor heal you.”

  “Your Zerkan friend?”

  “Yeah. I won’t tell him you’re staying with me. He’s kinda persistent that way. Dearly loves to heal people. Gets off on it, actually.”

  She cleared her throat. “I believe I’ll pass.
”

  “Suit yourself,” he said. “Although you might change your mind after a few days. Waiting for a broken bone to heal can get old real quick. Not that I mind if you stick around for a while.”

  “You know what they say about fish and uninvited guests. After three days, they both start to stink.”

  “I don’t think you’ll stink even after three months,” he declared. “I’ve never had a houseguest before—not a stranger, anyway—so this’ll be a new experience for me. And you aren’t uninvited. Unexpected, perhaps, but not uninvited. I promise to take excellent care of you.”

  She arched a brow. “Is taking care of me part of your vision?”

  “Nope. That’s just me being a nice guy.”

  A giggle slipped out, a sound she hadn’t made in a long, long time. “A nice guy with nothing better to do?”

  “Maybe. But those are your words, not mine.”

  * * *

  Aidan had actually been a bit nervous about what Sula might say when she woke up. Most of the fortune-telling stuff came within moments of meeting someone. Touch, in the form of a hug or a handshake, accelerated the process. He’d taken to avoiding physical contact whenever possible. Other times, he forced himself to go ahead with it simply to get the “reading” over and done with. Sadly, knowing someone’s fate tended to affect how he related to them. Being ignorant of Sula’s destiny was as refreshing as it was unusual. Talking to her affected him the way flying did, lifting his spirits and brightening his mood. While it was true that not everyone’s destiny was disheartening—some were hopeful and fulfilling—the bad seemed to outweigh the good, leaving him with a rather pessimistic outlook.

  Sula was different. She might be doomed to face a ghastly end, but having been spared that knowledge, his soul wasn’t being dragged into the depths of despair. Some people did that to him. They were losers no matter which way they turned, and their misfortunes affected Aidan almost as though they were his own. He’d seen a number of things he wished he could unsee. Too bad this was one instance when a peek into the future would’ve been useful, perhaps even welcome.

  The vibes he picked up from his friends and family differed from the impressions he received from strangers. Those with close ties generated sporadic readings that tended to reflect short-term events, whereas strangers’ impressions tended to reach further into the future. Into which category would Sula fall? Perhaps, given enough time, she would affect him the way his family did.

  The only hitch was, for that to happen, he would have to be near her on a daily basis—a situation he didn’t mind in the slightest.

  She intrigued him far beyond what ignorance of her future should have evoked. This puzzled him until he realized what made her so different.

  He was attracted to her—attracted in a way no woman had ever affected him in all of his twenty-six years. Sure, he’d met loads of women throughout his life, traveling from planet to planet with his family and that of Captain Jacinth “Jack” Tshevnoe, but he’d never fallen in love with any of them. Jack was a trader with a wanderlust that even a Zetithian husband and nine children couldn’t cure, with the result that they never stayed in one place long enough for Aidan to form an attachment with anyone. His mother, Tisana, had a similar affliction, and their two families had roamed the galaxy together aboard the starship Jolly Roger even before he and his littermates were born.

  He didn’t regret his upbringing. However, the only girl he’d known while growing up was his sister, Althea, who, being an empath with Zetithian, Terran, and Mordrial ancestry, was unlike any other girl in the galaxy. The rest of the children born aboard their ship were boys. The girls they met in spaceports thought Zetithian guys were hot, but any relationships were brief and superficial at best. Aidan’s insight into each girl’s future caused him to shy away from most of them, and since there were four other available Zetithian boys who were fairly close to him in age, the girls rarely had any need to pursue the one who wasn’t interested. Because he and his brother Aldrik had similar coloring, he wasn’t even the only blond.

  A restless movement from Sula returned his attention to her. “Do you want more to drink before we go? Something to eat, maybe?”

  “I have some food in my backpack, but I’d better wait, or I might end up losing it to motion sickness.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that. I was more concerned with causing you pain.”

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. “Just don’t drop me.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He tugged on the leather sling, which was still underneath her. “This thing is pretty sturdy, which means you won’t fall unless I do.” He paused as he remembered she’d been unconscious the last time they’d flown together. “I should warn you I don’t fly like the typical bird. I use more of a rise and fall pattern, which could make you a little queasy, especially if you’re feeling bad to begin with.”

  “You should probably carry me with my back toward you.” Her eyes danced with mischief. “That way, I can see where we’re going, and I won’t throw up all over you.”

  He shouted with laughter. “My, how thoughtful.” Still chuckling, he buckled on his wings as he nodded toward a small but sturdy-looking tree growing near the spring. “Think you could stand on one foot if you were holding onto that tree?”

  She nodded. “I don’t feel faint anymore.”

  The thought of holding Sula against him with her backside nestled against his groin sent Aidan’s libido soaring off into space. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—he wouldn’t get an erection unless he inhaled the scent of her desire, sparing him the inevitable embarrassment that would result from his hard cock pressing against her bottom.

  On the other hand, a raging hard-on would prove she was interested in him—or had at least forgotten about Raj.

  No. It wouldn’t prove either of those things. A woman’s body could respond sexually even if she didn’t want it to. The same was true of the males of most species.

  I just had to be Zetithian.

  Sometimes, being touted as the best lovers in the galaxy was a good thing. Other times, it was dammed inconvenient.

  “Okay, then.” Kneeling beside her, he placed her hat firmly on her head, then gathered her up in his arms, sling and all. “Let’s see if you can stand without passing out.”

  * * *

  Thankfully, Sula was able to stand, although she doubted she could’ve done it without Aidan’s assistance or the tree for support.

  She still hadn’t completely recovered from the breathtaking experience of being carried by such a ridiculously sexy man. Her reaction might’ve been different if he’d been wearing a shirt, and the brown leggings he wore—although undoubtedly quite suitable for flight—left very little to the imagination. She should’ve closed her eyes instead of staring, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not with the expanse of hard muscle and tanned skin right in front of her face.

  He draped the upper straps over her shoulders and fitted the leather contraption around her waist and hips in a deft manner that seemed devoid of any romantic or sexual overtones. When he stepped around behind her, Sula blurted out, “How in the world did you ever manage this while I was unconscious?”

  “With difficulty,” he replied. “The hardest part was those last two straps.”

  She didn’t have to ask which ones he meant. They were dangling between her legs. “I guess those are some of the more important pieces, aren’t they?”

  “Yep. They’re what keep you from slipping out like an overripe banana.”

  She pressed her lips together but failed to keep the lid on her laughter. Her poorly timed moment of mirth loosened her grip on the tree limb, and she fell back against him. In the next instant, his arms snaked around her, pulling her against him hard enough to knock most of the wind out of her.

  “You okay?” His lips were so close, his breath tickled her neck.

>   She nodded but signaled her discomfort with a wiggle of her hips and a tap on his arm. “Too tight,” she gasped.

  “Sorry,” he said as he eased his grip. “Don’t know my own strength sometimes. Just didn’t want to have to set that leg again.”

  “No problem. I was a little startled, but I’m okay now.”

  “Good. Hang on to that tree while I get the lower straps fastened. Works best to snap them on first.”

  She didn’t want to know how he knew that, although as businesslike as he was now, she couldn’t imagine him taking liberties with her unconscious body. Oddly enough, a moment’s reflection on such an occurrence didn’t distress her as much as it should have. If he’d been the one to need rescuing, she wasn’t completely sure she wouldn’t at least have taken a moment to comb her fingers through his long blond hair. Although as tightly wound as his curls were, getting her fingers tangled in them probably would’ve brought him out of anything short of a coma.

  He certainly hadn’t messed with her hair, which was still braided and pinned as securely as ever.

  As he reached for the infamous crotch straps, his fingers didn’t even graze the fabric of her trousers. Come to think of it, he hadn’t come close to touching her breasts when he’d grabbed her from behind.

  He’s either homosexual or the most gentlemanly gentleman imaginable.

  Not that his sexual orientation mattered. He was simply her rescuer, like a firefighter or an emergency medical technician. Certainly not her knight in shining armor or a brooding, romantic hero.

  Then again, he’d had a vision about her, and he’d obviously come prepared to rescue her and fly her to safety. He was taking her to his house. Maybe then he would—

  No. If he wasn’t interested in romance out in the middle of nowhere, he probably wouldn’t change his mind after he took her home.

  Why am I even thinking this stuff?

  How could one man alter her focus so completely and in such a short time? She had an important mystery to solve and a lost love to avenge. She didn’t need a new romance to complicate matters.