by Casey Wyatt
Tiredness captured me with a vengeance. I stifled a yawn, not wanting Nina to think it was a reflection on her. “It’s a valid point. We all deserve to be loved.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I grow weary of this,” Harmony tapped the panel controlling the lights. “Time for rest.”
The room darkened. They drifted off. The vampires who were bonded to me slept the soundest. I could tell. The others stopped moving completely. For the record, the undead can and do sleep. We don’t need it the same way mortals do, but we like it and it rejuvenates us.
And what about me? I stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Nina said. I’d been lucky to find my true soul mate. Was I being unfair keeping everyone on Mars where eligible mates were in short supply? Granted, I wouldn’t know until the baby was born if she could handle life on Earth. Was I willing to risk it?
Was I being selfish?
Jonathan came to mind. He’d wanted me after a single song. If he hadn’t heard me sing, would he have noticed me at all? And Jay. He’d been dragged into my undead life because he was my friend and Jonathan wanted me to have a trusted companion. More like a pet, I’m sure, revolting as that sounds. Jay and I reconciled our strange relationship years ago. But Jonathan and I had left much unsaid.
If a time machine appeared then and there, would I change time? I couldn’t be certain.
Nina’s question haunted me well into the morning.
“CHERRY? WAKE UP, LUV.” Ian nudged me. His blond hair tickled my nose as he kissed me on the cheek.
I swatted his hand away. I needed to bank every moment of sleep possible. “Five more minutes.”
“Prior requested we see him off,” Ian said. “Remember? You don’t want to miss saying goodbye to your favorite person. You can have a nap later.”
“He’s not my favorite person,” I groused. Guilt gnawed at me. I imagined how I’d feel in his place. Since departures from the colony were rare, I’m sure we wouldn’t be the only ones to see him off. “Fine. I’m awake.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ian offered me a hand up, which I’m sad to say I needed. He’d also thoughtfully provided me with a fruit smoothie for breakfast and a minty tea concoction.
I knocked back the tea first. After a quick splash of cold water, I dressed in grown-up clothes because Ian insisted I not wear pajamas. I took the smoothie for the ride to the spaceport. Ian helped me into the lander and offered me the controls. I passed, not feeling like driving.
The sun was rising, the light as weak as I felt. Another few hours of sleep would have been nice.
Ian started the speeder without comment.
Good man.
“Does this baby bump make me look fat?” Oh yeah, I went there. I asked the type of question men universally abhor. After being woken out of a sound sleep, I was due some fun.
Ian, who is as smart as he his handsome, politely sidestepped my question.
“You are beautiful.” His long fingers trailed a path across my stomach. The baby stirred, following his touch. “There. See? Even the child agrees.”
“She doesn’t know anything yet,” I grumped, trying to ignore the slow ache climbing from my hips to my lower back.
Ian’s bemusement was followed by a faint snort. “Still convinced it’s a girl, eh, luv? My money is on a boy.”
Being the smug mommy, I was absolutely convinced I was right.
The problem with absolutes is that they are never, well, absolute.
For instance, everyone used to believe Mars was populated with LGM, aka Little Green Men. One of my biggest disappointments was discovering there weren’t any. Sad but true. A charming fabrication created by mortals back on Earth.
I’m pretty convinced some LGM would have made my time on Mars more interesting.
Ian’s blue eyes twinkled. “Do you miss it, Cherry?”
Longing filtered through our shared mental bond. While we couldn’t read each other’s thoughts, we could sense moods and strong emotions. I recognized his yearning all too well.
“Sometimes.” More like most days. I missed Earth. The grass, blue skies, bird’s songs, raindrops, and global warming. Mars, dead as daytime soap operas, had been a hard adjustment.
Sure, it had been fine when we were fleeing for our lives from Thalia, a revenge-driven vampire queen. It’s even been nice creating a whole new world for the undead. But as they say in real estate, location, location, location.
“Ah, luv. You’re not being truthful with yourself.” Ian set the speeder on autopilot and slid across the bench seat. He drew me into his arms, enclosing me in a warm, comforting hug. His chin rested lightly on the crown of my head.
“Home is where you are.” And if it came down to a choice—Ian vs. Mars—my husband would win, hands down, every time.
“Same here, darling.” He pressed his lips softly against my hair. “I’ve grown accustomed to a more sedate life. No more running. No more hiding.”
“It is liberating to be ourselves, isn’t it?” And there was the rub. If we returned, it was back to a life of living in the shadows and denying our right to exist. Plus, there was the real concern our daughter might not be able to survive on Earth.
Nina’s time travel question surfaced in my mind. “Ian, have you ever wondered? Are we doing the right thing?”
“We aren’t forcing anyone to stay.”
“Easy for you say. You’ve never been a Sire.”
“And how do you know that?” He stopped caressing my neck. Irritation rang in my head.
“Dude. What crawled up your panties?” I’d touched a nerve.
“Aren’t you the one wearing panties?” He ran his hand toward the curve of my ass. “Better yet, are you commando?”
“Don’t change the subject. Have you been a Sire?” I faced him, arms crossed. I hated it when he pointed out that there were still parts of his past I didn’t know about. I think he liked to throw me off in an argument. Look at me, I’m so old and wise. Pfft, is what I say to that.
“Never. I won’t enslave them to my will. The Rogues fight for each other because of the bonds we formed naturally. Not because of some mystical hoo-ha.”
“And what about our mating bond?” I didn’t like where this was headed, but I’d set us on this road. “Is it a magical ball and chain to you?”
He rubbed the base of his neck. “Naw, luv. Don’t go reading into things I never intended to imply.”
“Then don’t act high and mighty,” I said, annoyance transmitting loud and clear. “I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were,” he said smoothly.
“Don’t treat me like a cranky, pregnant woman.” The words spilled out, confirming I was acting erratic and hormone laden. I took a deep breath. Yes, I know I don’t need air, but it made me feel better. More in control. “Back to my original concern.”
“Right. You’re worried about being selfish.” Ian stared at the horizon. “Why don’t you ask them what they want?”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, I could see how some of them might think I don’t want them. And for others, it might cause them to view it as a sign of weakness.”
“Whoa. I think you’re spiraling here. Yes. Those things could happen.”
“But?” I prompted.
“Maybe the sun will fall from the sky,” he said. “Why worry about every possibility?”
I hated it when he answered a question with a question.
“There is one other thing. Something we take for granted.” I thought about how I might feel if I were stuck here with no Ian. We had been so lucky to find each other. “What about love? My Family consists mostly of single females.”
“True, there is a limited pool of choices here. But we’ve discussed why we can’t grow the colony. We have to be able to support the population we have.”
“I know. You’re right.” The issue had no easy or obvious solution.
The speeder slowed, stopping a few yards from the spaceport. Ian jumped out, then offered
me assistance. He’d carry me the short distance to the entrance, if I’d let him. But maybe time bounding over the rocky terrain would help the baby come faster.
She must have like the idea because she flip-flopped, bounced off my bladder, then settled with a squirm. Sometimes, when I hovered between asleep and awake, I could hear her mind. I hadn’t told Ian because it sounded so damn weird. Since I was charting new territory, I had no one to ask.
And no time to think about it anymore. It seemed we were the last to arrive.
The spaceport was filled with colonists. A shuttle waited to take Prior to the ship in orbit. Kasia, the sentient entity that controlled the craft, would take good care of him. But space travel wasn’t without risk. The Veil, the fold in space-time used to shorten the distance, was especially dangerous. A shudder passed over me thinking about the mind-bending weirdness I’d witnessed when we’d traversed it. I didn’t envy Prior.
“Thank you everyone.” Prior stood in the center of a circle of well-wishers, seemingly unconcerned about the perils of space travel. He was also English, which meant that even if he was concerned, no one else would know it.
Prior prattled on for a good fifteen minutes. Geesh. He acted like he was about to embark on a yearlong journey around the planet.
I leaned against Ian, my feet silently protesting. “Is he ever going to stop talking?”
Ian chuckled. “You are so impatient.”
“And you’re not the size of a small house.”
The crowd started clapping. The blowhard was done.
Ian gave me an apologetic smile. “Luv, I need to have a word with Prior before he gets on the shuttle.”
“Go on. Say goodbye to him from me. I’m not pushing through the crowd.” It’s not like Prior and I were best buddies or anything. As Ian made his way over to him, I searched the hangar for a place to sit.
The revenant ship was the only other thing in the hangar. The port workers called it The Flying Dutchman after rumors circulated that the ghosts on it would whisk the colonists away. Total nonsense as far as I could tell, but several of the workers had been on tall ships during their human lifetimes and old sailor superstitions apparently never died.
The gangplank was down. Soothing yellow light filtered from the opening.
Herne’s invitation, “Come visit me some time,” echoed in my head.
With everyone else occupied, now seemed as good a time as any to take him up on the offer.
Chapter Three
Lost and Found
Uncertainty nipped me as I trudged up the gangplank, unannounced.
What was I doing? I didn’t know Herne or his people.
Sure, he had invited me, but what would we talk about? We’d discussed gravity. Fine. Maybe I was being silly. There must be some common ground I could find.
The only hitch? Herne’s group was a whole different enchilada. For starters, many of them floated around in ghost form, something the earthbound revenants never did. Even they avoided our latest arrivals. If the space revenants were too weird for their Earth cousins, what did that say?
Aside from the floaty ghost form, which appeared harmless, I wondered what other abilities they had and if they would be dangerous to the colony.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I walked down a short corridor and peered into what looked like the bridge.
“You came!” Herne was seated behind a control panel, fingers posed over the panel.
That other distinctive feature I mentioned? Their faces bore a plastic sameness almost clone-like. No hair, no eyebrows, and a similar mannequin smoothness to their pale skin. Unlike his followers, Herne’s eyes were black rather than colorless like his tribe.
Today, he was in solid form which apparently allowed him to work the controls.
“Should I come back another time?” I asked, turning to leave.
“No!” He stood and pointed toward a row of bench seats. “Please, sit.”
I settled on the bench, moving harness straps out of my way. When he looked at me expectantly, I said, “I’m hoping you can help me solve a problem.” Oh cripes. How could I delicately put it that they were the problem?
Herne’s head tilted, and the place where eyebrows would normally be rose higher. “Problem?”
I suppressed a sigh. Of course, he wasn’t making this any easier. Then again, how could I expect him to? He couldn’t read my mind.
“Herne. As you may be aware, you and your followers appeared quite suddenly. I have to ask, is this the Lost Ship?”
A series of muscles contorted his face. Sounds stuttered from his lips. “I—we—no.” He shook his head.
“You’re from Earth?”
Another nod. I might as well be questioning the rocks outside. No more beating around the bush. “Why are you here?”
Herne rose and moved to a wall panel. The same contortions attacked his face. I didn’t think I was asking a hard question. They must have known someone would ask what they wanted.
The panel chirped three times and slid open. He retrieved a bag made from shiny cloth, then sat on the bench next to me. “I have this for you.”
“And ‘this’ is?” I wanted to shake answers out of him.
“It’s for the ceremony. I heard Harmony speak to you about it.” Loosening the drawstrings, he upended the bag, revealing a palm-sized crystal globe. The smooth surface swirled with iridescent colors. I’d seen similar technology used by Harmony when she created her worship dome.
“It’s beautiful. What does it do?” The urge to touch it was strong. I locked my fingers together and rested my palms in my lap. Hey. I’ve learned the hard way not to touch strange technology. Because as pretty as the orb was, it was not made on Earth. So, no touchy.
Herne opened his mouth to speak.
“Cherry! You in here?” Ian stepped inside then frowned. “What is that?”
“A gift for the child.” Herne dropped it into the bag and held it out to me.
I had a million questions, so I started with the obvious. “What is it?”
“A memory.”
Great, more cryptic answers. Was there anyone on the planet capable of speaking straight? “And what are we supposed to do with it?”
“I have never opened one, but I hear they contain collected knowledge that will help the recipient on their path.”
“And how is a baby supposed to open it?”
“You must sing to it,” he said.
“I don’t sing. I’m retired.” Other than a few select times, I’d kept my voice to myself. It had gotten me into too much trouble in the past.
“We have to go,” Ian said, giving me a lift upward. “Thank you for the gift.”
Herne stood. “I understand.”
I didn’t. What was the rush? Ian flashed me a somber frown. “Some other time then?”
Ian hustled me out of the ship and out the hangar door before I could say more. I headed toward the speeder, but he clasped me around the waist and launched upward, the sudden motion taking me by surprise.
Before I could react, he took the bag and dropped it into the sand. I saw it land before he sped up.
When we arrived outside the cavern’s entrance, I poked him in the biceps. “I thought we agreed no flying until the baby was born.”
“Except in case of dire emergency,” he said, accent sharp enough to cut paper. “I don’t care what his bloody customs are, we are not bringing an unidentified object into the caverns. Let’s go home.”
I dug my heels in. “Wait a minute. Why don’t you want me to speak to him?”
Ian looked puzzled for a moment. “Because I don’t trust him farther than I can throw my Aunt Fanny.”
He proceeded down the Hall of the Ancients. It told the history of the Eliade using stunning panels decorated with precious metals and rich colors. Think, stained glass windows made of luminescent stones.
“You never had an Aunt Fanny,” I grumbled, picking up the pace to catch him. “You could try and be nice to him.”
>
Ian stopped. “What?”
“Is that so hard? Have you seen him? I can’t explain it. There’s something vulnerable about him. Like something awful has happened and he can’t talk about it.” Maybe I had a soft spot for those who needed help, but I’d rather that than be cold and cynical.
“That’s not how I see it. I feel like there is some evil purpose to their landing.” Ian continued to walk, muttering a soft oath and something about “bleeding hearts.”
“Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” Annoyed as I was, the Hall always unsettled me.
Maybe it was the reminder of a once prosperous race that suddenly vanished. Despite my words, I kept walking because the Ancient’s Hall was deserted. Which wasn’t surprising. As a group, the colonists tended to use the other entrances to move about their business.
Or in some cases, they were content to remain in the caverns, ignoring the surface. Others, like my former assistant Louis and his zombie group, adored mucking about in the dirt and dust. Whatever. To each his own.
“If he comes near you again, I want to know.” Ian marched beside me, lips drawn in a hard line.
“All right.” What else could I say? Loads.
We walked in silence for about five seconds before I broke the quiet.
“Next time, don’t try and shelter me. I’m not a fragile doll.”
“I know, luv.”
“Do you? I don’t appreciate you making decisions for me.”
“I won’t apologize for protecting you and our child. Herne makes my skin crawl.” Ian folded his arms across his chest, daring me to fault his logic.
“Are you planning on hiding me from him forever?”
“Yes.” His expression hardened.
“Oh my God. Of course. I should have known. The Rogues will be watching me when you can’t.”
“I protect what is mine, Cherry.” A flash of white fang appeared then disappeared. He fixed a concerned gaze on me, then spoke with a rare and quiet desperation. “Are you saying our wedding vows, our bond, mean nothing?”
I knew a trap when I heard one, but I couldn’t not respond. “I love you, Ian. You know that. But there’s more to this. I have a gut feeling too. And I still haven’t heard how keeping me ignorant is protection.”
