Their world had narrowed to this: cool moonlight, the sound of beaching waves, and the warmth of two bodies wrapped around each other. It was all Lina had ever wanted: a snug cocoon of absolute safety. Having Lon beside her was the fulfillment of a wish she'd never dared make.
Londo lounged propped against a palm tree. He was shirtless but otherwise dressed in his famous black-on-black Valiant uniform, the vest loose over his wide, toasty-brown chest. He held Lina in his arms. She was half-clad in that terribly sexy black lingerie, wearing his gray-striped shirt with its torn right sleeve like a jacket against the comparative chill of the tropical night.
That white chemise she'd started out in was tucked securely into one of the pockets in Londo's vest as a souvenir of this precious time together.
“I love you.” Londo's deep voice seemed that of the sea and sky. “Ma chérie.”
How miraculous that anyone would ever love her, stupid old Muttbutt! It was a day of miracles, a week, a lifetime. “I love you, too,” she told him with all her heart.
She snuggled, so safe from the universe in his powerful arms. His mind and hers wrapped together as well. They watched the moon rise over the ocean and night settle upon the land. A hypnotic languor settled over them. Maybe another hour here like this, Lina thought, and then Londo would take her home. To his home, that was, to Montreal for a romantic day of who knew what? Their lives were just beginning again. The universe was an incredibly beautiful and peaceful place when you knew how to look at it. Love let you see it in the right light. This was what all the fuss, all the poetry and art, all the hope of humanity was about.
And yet a tiny, insidious worm of a thought squirmed through Lina's brain: Londo was Valiant, the most famous man ever. Every bit as legendary as Maximus. Even if she was the only woman in the universe Lon could have sex with, how long could this love affair continue before he became bored with her?
The thought gave her too much pain so she shoved it hard away, and when Londo stroked her the thought disappeared as if it had never existed. The only thing that mattered now was him.
He lightly twisted a long lock of her curly auburn hair in his fingers. “I have a friend who's never going to believe this.” Lon murmured, his dark eyes half-closed.
“Oh! He's blue!” Lina exclaimed. “Oh, sorry. I didn't mean that to sound racist. But… He's blue, love.” The mental picture recalled a medium blue-skinned, violet-haired man in a baggy yellow jumpsuit—very colorful, like TV from the Sixties. The vision Londo held of him showed him standing in what could only be a laboratory. It had that kind of feel, antiseptic and yet messy at the same time; tick-tick-tick with a machinery vibe. Futuristic.
“Yeah, that's Wiley. Wilder Mem-Bazer.” Lon nodded. “It means 'Five Minds.' He's got them all tucked away in that brilliant head of his.”
Funny. He didn't look like an overbearing mental giant. He looked like he should be mowing his yard in a suburban neighborhood before the weekend family barbecue. Darrin Stephens without the attitude.
Lon smiled at her mental simile. “Eh, he's a real funny guy. You'd like him. He's crazy in his own way—not like 'The Nutty Professor' crazy. A normal guy kind of crazy.”
“Schizoid? I mean, with five minds…”
“Not schizoid—although he does talk to himself. But never, ever hint to him that he might be.” Londo chuckled at a memory. “He and I are members of an interstellar—”
Lina clenched his arm hard. “Something's wrong!”
A finger-thin bolt of lightning streaked by inches away from her face, blinding her for an instant.
Before she could even think, Lon shoved her behind himself and leapt to his feet. Just in time. More lightning bolts crashed through the clearing. They ricocheted off Lon without affecting him. He was Valiant now.
Lina's first instinct was to roll up like a bug and hide away from the world, but she was also very okay with cowering behind his protection. Clamping down on a whimper before it could escape her mouth, she blinked wide-eyed at the situation and hugged herself into as small a target as she could. Less for Lon to have to protect.
Londo reached out and sank his fingers into their palm tree. He gave a kick to its trunk. It caved in so he could snatch the entire tree as if he were grabbing a paper towel off its roll. With a whirling motion, he tossed it so it caught the brunt of four more lightning strikes. The tree blasted into shreds.
Lina wrapped her arms around her head. Tiny pinpricks of wood shrapnel stung her legs. Strange how the lightning buzzed and crackled, but never thundered. Now she clairvoyantly sensed the people who surrounded them. Weaponry, too. Through her daze it seemed time stilled.
But not for Lon. He'd jumped up and hovered in the air, tossing more trees at targets she couldn't see. Jagged lightning targeted him at an apex of hellish fury, but other than his hair standing on end—or at least through the glare Lina thought it did—he was unscathed.
But behind his cool professionalism, she could tell that he was also struggling to switch gears from the mental state he'd just been in. He searched for a more effective weapon to use.
“Hah,” he said. Only Lina could hear it because he'd thought the triumph as well. He darted down and came back up with a cannon that he used as a baseball bat to attract and deflect the lightning.
Screams from the northern edge of the woods answered his attack. Wood shreds filled the air as the crossfire caught more trees.
Lina could teleport herself, but what about Lon? She'd never tried to port him before, not consciously. She dug her fingers into the calming earth energy of the sand and set herself to forget about the commotion and danger. She tuned into his body to prepare for the port.
He sensed what she was doing. “Just port yourself! Now!”
But she almost had it! Then suddenly the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed into her cheek. Someone grabbed the back of her shirt and lifted her up. He grabbed her around the waist for a firmer hold. In spite of herself she let out a squeal. Londo spun around in mid-air.
“Back off, Valiant!” the man who held her yelled. “I've got your girlfriend. Just take it nice and slow.”
The man had the grip of a sasquatch and stood about as tall as one—a para? Though she was six feet tall, Lina's feet kicked in the air.
“Don't try any of your Valiant tricks. There are a dozen guns trained on her. You take one of us out and she gets it before you can blink.”
Lon's eyes locked with hers. He told her, **I mean it. I can get more done with you not here. Go home if you can. Call the ParaNet. I'll meet you later.**
**Okay.** She prepared for the port by taking a breath—only to have it knocked out of her as a yellow-white energy bolt blasted her shoulder. The bunched shirt had left it bare and unprotected.
“Don't move, Valiant!” someone cried out.
Lina yelped as the burning pain shattered her concentration, like grabbing a hot pan on the stove and not being able to let go. The brute who had her squeezed tighter and laughed. He hadn't even flinched at the blast. Now his touch made her skin crawl. Lights began to flash in front of her eyes and she felt faint. The white curtain of unthinking panic threatened to descend. Her phobia—Not now! Don't touch her! Don't touch!
Londo eased back down to earth, facing her and her captor. His snarl caught the moonlight. He twisted the half-slagged remains of the cannon into a pretzel and then dropped it on the sand. Its dead bulk was three times as large as he. Slowly he flexed his dangerous body in a futile challenge.
A woman's voice called, “Good boy, Londo. Stay.”
Chapter 2
From the tropical forest stepped the bottle blonde who had been in Lon's thoughts the night before. She was medium height, forties or early fifties, gaunt but beautiful if you could get past the cruelty of her expression.
She pointed at Lina. “That was just a sample, girl. No more spacey looks from you! If she gets that distant look in her eye again, shoot her,” the woman ordered the small cadre of camoed troops aiming t
heir guns at Lina.
This of course must be Terry Whatsherface—Rhodes.
Now that the need for stealth was gone, engines came to life. Trees swayed as bulky shadows lumbered beneath them. Dozens of men streamed up through the woods and from the beach—more and more and more.
Lina cursed herself. She should have sensed them and the danger! But she'd been too preoccupied just by being in Londo's arms…
Terry stepped in front of Lina. “I don't trust telepaths.” She slapped her face hard. “You better not try any mind tricks on anyone here.” The blow left Lina's ears ringing, but the phobic curtain of panic retreated.
“Stop it, Terry!”
Terry whirled to Lon, who stood helplessly, clenching his fists at his sides. He merited a larger focused group of soldiers. They surrounded him in a semicircle, but their readied weapons were bulky, huge-barreled and terrifying. These were attached by blinking hoses and cords to machinery others pulled behind them on tough, track-wheeled platforms.
“Why, hello again, Londo,” Terry said sweetly as if she'd just noticed him. “Oh, we won't kill her. She's just to keep you in line.” Terry turned her head. “Get some spots in here, damn it! What do I pay you people for?”
In response two bobbing lights came on as running soldiers carried them. They placed six others to focus on Londo. The sharp accents and black shadows made the scene more unreal than it was already. In the lights Londo almost seemed to glow like a statue—or a sacrifice.
**Port out,** he commanded Lina.
**Can't concentrate.** Damn it, nothing like this had ever happened to her. She'd only been porting for two days. Focus!
When he spoke to Terry his voice sounded far off to Lina as she struggled within her own mind. “What's the plan? What mood are you in this time?”
“I didn't appreciate you blowing up my cannon the other day. I paid a lot for it. It got you good though, eh?”
As more spots lit up the clearing, Lina's guard suddenly squeezed her hard. He pinched her on the shoulder where she had been hit, chuckling when she sucked in a gasp.
“Your fault for getting involved with Valiant,” he growled in her ear.
Her lips curled back, baring her teeth. She wasn't frightened any more. Dark anger rushed through her. Her concentration sharpened like the edge of a hunting blade. She'd port him into the next world for using her to threaten Londo!
“Don't, Lina!” Londo barked. He stood stock-still but his expression carried his imperious order home as no other thing could.
Lina froze. She clamped her jaw in frustration. It had been a stupid thought, but she did stupid things when she was angry.
“Don't try anything here,” Lon repeated. **Let me handle it. I'll get us out of here, chérie. Terry gets too cock-sure. She always slips up.**
“And what did she think she might do?” Terry purred to Lon.
**Remember, I'm Valiant. I can handle anything. You port out when you can. You stay safe!** “Let her go, Terr,” Londo urged the mercenary leader. “Whatever she's been here for she's served her purpose. You don't need her any more, and it's a messy business disposing of corpses.”
She walked around him but eyed Lina. “We seem to have struck a little nerve, eh?” She stage-whispered to her, “He falls in love so easily.”
“An interesting situation,” a loud male voice from the crowd behind Londo declared. “Let's deal. I believe we have the better hand here.”
Londo's face twisted. “Menlo,” he growled, and a wave of sudden uncertainty rolled from him through Lina's mind before he could stanch it.
Terry chortled. “You didn't know? Oh, Lon, this is rich. You thought that I could pick up all these wonderful guns from my local Walmart?”
Dr. Theodore Menlo stepped into the open, and Lina blanched. “Terry, no slight to you,” he said, “but there's no way in hell you could have designed these weapons.”
Londo had had to tell her about Terry Whatsherface, but Dr. Menlo she'd heard of. For years the evening news had featured his international crimes. Two villains after Londo—this was very bad.
“No offense taken, Ted. You build 'em; I buy 'em.”
Stuffing his hands into his rear jeans pockets, Dr. Menlo scrutinized Londo. The lean doctor's shirttails hung out above his jeans, flapping in the ocean breeze, and his long brown hair kept getting behind his glasses and into his eyes.
“So tell me, Rand, are all the powers back now? Are you at full power or a portion thereof? Absolutely invulnerable, or just a teensy bit not? Terry, can we test this now? I'd like to get a reading as close to the time of powerlessness as possible. How long has it been since your powers came back, Rand?”
Lon stood silent.
Terry watched Londo's face. “I'd be willing to bet it's been less than an hour,” she offered.
“But that radar reading last night—”
Lina didn't know what Dr. Menlo was talking about until she remembered Londo leaping into the air with her clinging to his back. They must have hung above the island for a minute or two.
Terry shrugged. “I know Londo. Londo doesn't like to stick around at the scene of the crime, as it were.”
“And there is an explanation for that. Our bet?”
“It's impossible. Here. Someone with an E547—you've calibrated those, haven't you?—take a shot at Valiant. Wait, not everyone. Cottle, you.” She pointed at one of the soldiers and then turned to face Londo, her arms crossed over her chest as she commanded the scene. “Full power. Somewhere non-vital.”
As Lina caught her breath, a man with a rifle thick as his own heavily-muscled arm took aim. Lon shifted slightly, eying his attacker.
“Stay put, Lon. We still have guns on her.”
Cottle pressed the trigger button and a long pulse of blue-white light shot out of his gun to hit Londo's left shoulder—and bounce off across the clearing. It struck one of the soldiers, roasting him before he could even scream. Lina gasped at the suddenness and coldness as the fellow's neighbors glanced at the smoldering, blackened corpse and then shuffled back into place.
“That's good, Terry.” Londo gave the woman a hard grin. “Let's do that again.”
“Shut up!” Terry paced angrily. Menlo squinted and stuck out his lower lip as if he were determining voltages.
“Eh bien, that's one less man on the payroll. Or do you offer widow's benefits?” Londo's eyes narrowed at Cottle. “You'll be sorry. Dead sorry.”
“I said, shut up!” Terry motioned to another and pointed at Lina. The man flinched, but took aim and held it.
“I'll be quiet,” Londo said quickly. “Don't hurt her!”
Terry did not give the order to fire.
Lina grimaced. She was Londo's safety leash now. If it weren't for her, he could mop up these guys with impunity.
She had to port herself. Even if it were only down the beach, it would give him enough time. No—she'd port home and call the ParaNet, as he'd said. In the few times she'd had to practice her new power, distance didn't seem to affect her porting.
Home was this… She began to build the familiar picture in her mind, to feel her own body and the space it held now, then the place she wanted it to be…
She cried out as a scalding blast hit her in the stomach.
“What— Londo! Stay there!” Lina heard Terry say imperiously as she hissed in pain.
A strange man's voice from her left: “She was looking funny, Commander.”
“Hold your fire! Any more and we might set off our guest here. See, Londo? She's not hurt that much, eh. My men just have nervous trigger fingers. You keep that in mind.”
Londo's voice was tight as Lina opened her eyes again, gasping. “A trade-off, Terry. Her safety for my good conduct.”
“We were doing that already, dear.” Her laugh rang low and vicious.
Menlo brushed the hair out from his glasses and then cocked his head this way and that, taking in the situation. Then he strolled across the clearing to Lina. He kept his hands in h
is pockets in a play of unconcern.
“Terry,” he said, “a willing bargain could work well in our favor. An hour, two hours studying him with his cooperation would be worth the lives of an entire city. Make it a day or two in exchange for the girl, Rand.”
“I'll do it,” Londo promised quickly. “Let her go.”
A crook came to the side of Menlo's mouth. “I didn't say we'd let her go now. I will promise that we'll keep her safe. This could be a valuable study in itself.” Menlo tilted Lina's chin to the left and right in a hard grip as she glared at him. “A real psychic. You know, before we started this project I was convinced that it was all hokum. Now I'm not sure at all. Are you real, girl?”
“Your wife still loves you,” she said to him.
“What?”
“Your wife, the one you hide. And little… Alber… Alex. He calls you 'Poppy Ted,' doesn't he? They still love you, despite everything.”
His eyes went to slits.
“She's looking for you. You didn't tell her where you were going, so she's hired someone to find you. There was a fight. She said things that she's sorry for now.”
“Shut up.”
“She wants to tell you that she still loves you. Dora wants you back.”
“Shut up. Shut the hell up!” He jerked his chin at one of the mercenaries and Lina found herself gagged with someone's sandy handkerchief. Her green eyes flashed at Menlo.
“Didn't know you were married, Menlo,” Londo said conversationally across the gap between them. “Dora, is it? I should send a card. Or are you registered somewhere?”
“Shut up, Rand,” Menlo growled. He glanced back at Lina. “Here's our deal: three days with you, two days with her. The girl's released unharmed at a location of our choosing when we're done.”
“Wait!” Terry cried. “What do I get out of this? I don't want him for scientific study. And I certainly don't want her. Look, I'm the one who financed this venture. I was to have full control!”
“Of course, of course.” Menlo returned to Terry and Londo. “Tell you what. You keep Rand for an extra day or two for your part. Hell, Terry, you just need him for a half-hour. I'm sure he'd spare you that if he knew that every moment meant Ms. O'Kelly's safety. I'll keep track of her personally after we finish the testing.”
Touch of Danger (Three Worlds) Page 29
