Cloud Rebel: R-D 3

by Connie Suttle

  "Matt says they barely had time to get those people out of there before everything exploded," I shook my head at the damage. "If the Canucks hear of our involvement," I blew out a breath.

  "So everybody's all right? Cori, too?" James asked.

  "They appear to be fine," I said. "I just heard from Leo-he says no hearing damage, even, so Cori and Val had some serious protection going on."

  "I miss seeing her every day," James said. "I haven't had good cookies in more than a year."

  "I never thought I'd consider the days at the mansion as the good old days," I said. "But you're right. I miss seeing her all the time, too."

  "Nathan wants to move up our wedding date-just in case," James shifted uncomfortably.

  "So Corinne can come?" I asked.

  "Yeah. We want her to stand with us, as a member of the family," he said.

  "You know she will-if it's at all possible."

  "Do you know where she'll be-where she'll go-when this is over?"

  "I have no idea where the Larentii homeworld is," I said. "Ask her. She'll be more likely to tell you than me, I think."

  "Why?"

  "Corinne has always considered you the son she wanted," I sighed. "Rafe, too. They'd protect you with their lives, unless I'm much mistaken."

  "I wish there wasn't a problem with Rafe," James dropped his gaze. "You know he'll go nuts if he figures out who she is, now."

  "You want both of them there at the wedding, don't you?" I was beginning to understand James' dilemma.

  "Yes. Nathan's family will be there-I want Cori and Rafe there as mine."

  "Let me talk to Shaw-perhaps he can present this to Corinne and Val. They may be able to come up with a viable solution."

  "I just worry about the wedding turning into a disaster if Rafe goes nuts," James admitted.

  "I see your point," I said. "Meanwhile, ask Director Michaels for a meeting. We probably should inform the President of our involvement with a newly-formed crater in Quebec. We should also investigate the types of explosives used. Get Captain Finch on the line-I want to speak with him."

  "Yes, sir."

  * * *

  Corinne

  "Nothing left of the Snowcat except burned, twisted wreckage," Opal reported when she reappeared. "It looks as if it were controlled remotely-at least there at the end. The driver and his pet Sirenali may have made a run for it before the explosives detonated. "

  "So, they wanted everybody to pile out of the tents and then boom," I mimed an explosion with my fingers.

  "Looks that way. The Snowcat was armed with remotely controlled guns, too, if my hunch is correct."

  "So if the explosion didn't work?" I guessed.

  "That's my guess, too," Opal agreed.

  "I find this fascinating-the lengths some humanoids will go to just to kill others of their kind," Val said.

  "It's frightening," I said. "We lost Nick and Maye and I still miss them," I added. "Besides, are Lyristolyi and Sirenali considered humanoids?"

  "If they spend more than half their time in a humanoid guise, the Larentii consider them humanoid," Val said. "Although in the Archival Index, they have a coded description that any Larentii can decipher easily. It indicates that they have at least one alternate shape. The Saa Thalarr are also listed as such."

  "I ran across some of those," I nodded. "Thanks for clearing that up."

  "I regret that I was not there to meet you upon your arrival. I would have enjoyed showing you the Archives and answering your questions."

  "They're all fine," Rafe strode out of the house and chose a chair nearby. "Thank you for saving their lives," he nodded to Val and me. "Sergei and Katya didn't need that blow."

  "I'm glad we could do something about it," I said. I was also glad Val and I had gone without the others, but I didn't say it aloud. The explosion as it happened around us was terrifying enough, and we'd been shielded throughout.

  "Honey," I turned to Val, "I need sunlight."

  "I, too," he agreed. "Come, I will transport us."

  * * *

  Ilya

  "How are you feeling?" Opal asked. "Any bad dreams or unexpected rages, lately?"

  "They disappear almost before they can form-on both counts," I replied. "Do you have an explanation for that?"

  "None at the moment," she shrugged.

  "That's-Rinnelar. She's," I couldn't get the words past my lips.

  "I believe Val has devised a way to keep the obsession from manifesting," Opal said. "If I were you, I'd be glad about that."

  "I am glad. I feel jealous," I admitted.

  "Don't. Or, if you just can't help it, ask him to remove it. It's fairly simple for a Larentii to do; it doesn't harm you in any way and doesn't interfere with anything else except your jealousy."

  "That's a fascinating concept," I mumbled, unsure whether I should ask the Larentii for any favors. I felt I owed him enough as it was.

  "You'll be surprised at what Val might do for you-if you ask," Opal said. "He won't interfere past what he's already done, but that, in essence, was to protect Rinnelar first."

  Opal's admission ramped up the jealousy I already felt. "Don't let it get too far or I'll call him back here myself," she cautioned.

  She was right-we didn't need dissension among our ranks. We needed to stand firmly together or we could end up losing this war. The explosion in Quebec was a grim reminder of that reality.

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask-not just of Opal or Val, but of Rinnelar. That's not all I wanted from her, but was terrified to even entertain such thoughts.

  "I know this is hard for you," Opal said. "We'll sort it out, just have faith and bear with us."

  "Before, I'd be ripping this deck apart while having this conversation."

  "I prefer the more peaceful version," she deadpanned.

  "As do I. I finalized the deal on the Italian villa. Should I inform Rinnelar?"

  "I'd wait-we haven't tested Val's solution to its fullest extent," she replied. "It's difficult to gauge the strength of any obsession placed by a Sirenali."

  "Ah. Probably wise."

  "Probably."

  * * *

  Corinne

  I hadn't meant to fall asleep while soaking up sunlight. I woke in Val's arms, both of us naked, of course. "Are you rested?" Val breathed against my cheek. "If not, I will sing you back to sleep."

  "We should get back," I yawned.

  "Then I will see that you sleep again when we arrive."

  "Okay."

  * * *

  Captain Brett Walker

  We'd been talking with Dr. Shaw much of the morning, then working out under Dr. Farrell's supervision most of the day. Therefore, Jennifer and I knew little about the events of the day or why there were now five new people at the beach house.

  When we walked into the kitchen, searching for something that might pass for dinner, we found Rafe and Rinnelar working together to cook dinner while Val and Opal, another new arrival, sat at the island to watch.

  "Is that chicken and dumplings?" I sniffed the air. My stomach growled, informing me that chicken and dumplings was exactly what was on the menu. I loved chicken and dumplings.

  "Correct," Rafe turned and nodded at me. "A drink is in order, perhaps? We have Scotch, wine, rum-the liquor cabinet is fully stocked."

  "How about an old-fashioned?" Opal asked, rising from her chair. "I make a pretty good one."

  "I'll take it," I nodded. "Jen-what about you?"

  "Wine?"

  "We have pinot noir, Riesling, cabernet sauvignon, shiraz, several others," Rinnelar said. "Your choice."

  "Pinot noir," Jen said immediately.

  We watched as Rinnelar popped the cork from a bottle with barely a look, caught it neatly and set it in front of Jen while the bottle turned itself and poured into a wineglass.

  "How do you do that?" Jen breathed as the wineglass floated toward her and set down gently by her hand.

  "Power, young one," Val said. "Her ha
nds are covered in flour, else she'd have done it in a more conventional way."

  "That's amazing," Jen said before lifting the glass and tentatively tasting the wine. "Good," she nodded.

  "It's my favorite red," Rinnelar smiled and went back to cutting dumpling dough into squares before dropping them into boiling broth. Rolled and cut dumplings-my favorite.

  "Our werewolf is hungry," Val announced. I went still.

  "Huh?" Jen's head swiveled toward Val.

  "It is time Dr. Farrell told both of you what you are," he said.

  "I was waiting," Richard Farrell snapped as he walked into the kitchen.

  "What were you waiting for?" Val demanded. "Perhaps for the time when the full moon comes and he begins to feel its pull? Perhaps for that time? Things were different for Nicholas, because he'd grown up seeing it in others. This-you have three days, Doctor. I suggest you get to it. If you have limited experience with this, then I expect you to allow someone better versed in the change to tell him."

  "I suppose you think you're going to?" Farrell wasn't happy, and I could scent the anger and embarrassment flowing off him. Yes, it shocked and worried me, but not nearly as much as the rest of the conversation had.

  "No, I suggest that Opal make contact with one nearby. William Winkler is in residence down the beach-he is the Dallas Packmaster and will do this for us, I think."

  "What the bloody hell?" Dr. Farrell exploded.

  "You should have considered this before the drug was administered," Val said, his voice soft. "If you cannot calm yourself, I shall do it for you."

  Dr. Farrell took a step toward Val, his face dark with anger. Val rose from his seat before becoming nearly nine feet tall and blue-skinned. Farrell stopped in his tracks. Not because he wanted to, but because Val used his power to prevent Farrell's approach. A long, blue finger snaked out and tapped Farrell lightly on the forehead. Farrell's body dropped gently to the floor as he lost consciousness.

  "I'll call Winkler," Opal said and pulled out her cell phone.

  * * *

  Corinne

  William Winkler, werewolf and Dallas Packmaster, arrived in an hour, accompanied by his son, Wayne. "If anybody except Opal had called, I'd be calling them delusional," Winkler said shortly after his arrival. "Now, what's this about a drug and replication?"

  "Tied up with national security," Matt Michaels wandered in. I gave him a look-one that said he'd never fool me for a minute. He pointedly ignored my look and paid attention to Winkler instead.

  "Want chicken and dumplings?" I went right over Matt's head and employed what would interest any werewolf-the promise of food.

  "I smelled it the minute I got here," Wayne declared.

  "Then come have some," I invited. "The others are already eating."

  That's how Val and I came to know the Dallas Packmaster and his son, who acted as his Second. Richard Farrell, who was now awake again, functioned in a better, more civilized manner as he ate. I suppose he realized that nobody should ever pick a fight with a Larentii.

  "Larentii," I pointed to Val and myself when Winkler asked.

  "I've only had dealings with one Larentii before," Winkler said.

  "Pheligar," Val said.

  "How did you know?" Winkler's interest was piqued.

  "He is my uncle, as well as the Liaison for the Saa Thalarr, who in turn had dealings with Lissa."

  Honey, you're treading shaky ground, I warned.

  "You know about Lissa." Winkler's words were flat, his depression immediate.

  "We didn't intend to open old wounds," I apologized to Winkler.

  "It's all right," he held up a hand. I knew he was lying; I just didn't want to make things worse for him. And it would be interfering to tell him that in the future, Lissa was just fine, thanks. The thing was, someone had already alluded to that fact; Winkler just didn't know what to make of it.

  We all had many paths to walk before the future arrived. I wanted to sigh. I forced myself not to do so.

  * * *

  "Will I turn into something?" Jennifer now stood beside me as I stared out the plate-glass windows at the gulf, lit only by a waxing moon. Somewhere out there, Winkler and his son were attempting to teach Brett what it meant to be werewolf.

  "No, hon," I draped an arm about her shoulders. "You weren't meant to turn. What you'll do eventually is tap into others' thoughts. You'll know who has murder on their minds, or sometimes, who's committed it, if they're thinking about it."

  "That's frightening," she shivered.

  "I know." I hugged her tighter. When Maye was turned, she'd been a volunteer, fully advised on the potential effects of the drug. Jennifer hadn't had a choice. I understood what that felt like, although I'd gotten the drug directly, instead of a survivor's blood after the fact.

  Maye hadn't fought PTSD, either. Jen struggled with it, just as she struggled with emerging memories that weren't her own. I wasn't sure Richard would have a chance with her-she was beginning to realize how detrimental the drug actually was.

  "Rinnelar," Rafe's voice interrupted my thoughts. Jen and I turned at the same time to see what he wanted.

  "There's something on the news I think you should see," he said. Jen and I followed him toward the media room.

  * * *

  The devastation in Star Cove, Texas, not far from where we were, looked as if someone had set off a bomb, there.

  "Twenty-eight years ago, Star Cove was destroyed. Since then it has been rebuilt, only to suffer nearly the same fate," the journalist declared. "While some homes still stand, most along the main canal have been obliterated. Authorities are attempting to search through debris for survivors and bodies, but in places, it is still too hot to make the attempt. A cause for this explosion and fire is still under investigation."

  "Those fucking Elemaiya," I snapped. "I knew they were trouble the minute I saw them."

  * * *

  "How did they get here?" Winkler was exhausted when dawn arrived; still, he wanted to hear about Star Cove. He'd built the small town initially, before its first destruction, then rebuilt it afterward and sold the property. "I thought Ashe got rid of the fuckers."

  "He did, and prevented them from gating in again," Val explained. He, Winkler and I were having a private meeting on the beach house's deck while the others stayed inside the house. As a precaution, Val placed a soundproof shield about us, so nobody else would hear our conversation.

  "Then how?" Winkler buried his face in his hands.

  "They arrived by more conventional means, courtesy of the ASD," I said. "That's Alliance Security Detail, in case you haven't heard of it before. They arrived by ship, then by anti-grav transport to the planet. They were sent to hunt the remnants of drug survivors, clones and any remaining drug. You see how quickly they became distracted."

  "What distracted them?" Winkler dropped his hands and turned dark eyes on me.

  "What they were sent here for in the beginning," I shrugged. "The Dark King and Bright Queen have sent them to find their crowns."

  "They're not here," Winkler growled.

  "We know that; they do not," Val interjected. "Rinnelar and I know where the crowns are in the future; the current King and Queen will never see or touch them again."

  "What are we supposed to do about these four, now?" Winkler asked. "It took Ashe to defeat them before."

  "Ashe was only coming into his power at the time," Val pointed out. "Perhaps Rinnelar and I can do something about them, now."

  "It looks as if your hands are full already, if what Matt says is accurate."

  "Matt is still in the dog house, in my opinion," I said. "Meanwhile, those Elemaiyan murderers think they'll get away with this."

  "I can have the Corpus Christi Pack hunt them in two days, at the full moon," Winkler offered.

  "At least one of them can level power blasts," Val said. "Your wolves will die if they attempt to take that one."

  "This sucks," Winkler muttered.

  "Perhaps I will ask my f
ather to notify Ildevar Wyyld of their betrayal," Val said. "It will require careful maneuvering, but it can be arranged."

  "Do it," I said. "Somebody needs to reel these fuckers in before more people die. Families died in those blasts, Val," I flung out a hand.

  "Then I will contact Father now," he said and disappeared.

  "I'd give anything to be able to do that," Winkler sighed.

  "Come on, I'll make coffee for you," I offered. "He'll be back in a few, but you look like you haven't slept for a week."

  "I feel like it, too," he said and followed me into the house.

  * * *

  Wyyld II

  Ildevar Wyyld, Founder

  Reth Alliance (future)

  "I barely remember that," I said. Nefrigar and Valegar, his second son, stood in my study. They'd brought news of an event that had happened more than four centuries earlier.

  "In my estimation, at least twenty-two humans died in those blasts," Valegar said.

  "In the past, I don't recall hearing of this," I countered.

  "Humans attributed it to other causes, because they didn't have evidence or reason to believe otherwise," Nefrigar said.

  Nefrigar, Chief Archivist for the Larentii Archives, was a depository of information in his own right. Most of what he housed in the Archives also resided in his head.

  "How will this affect the timeline?" I asked.

  "It will not affect it, if you or your past self asks for help from the powerful to intervene."

  "Whom should I contact, then?" I asked.

  "I suggest someone familiar with that world," Valegar said.

  "Who?"

  "Belen."

  "He outranks me, you know."

  "We're aware," Nefrigar admitted. "Nevertheless, he could prove himself invaluable in this case. It is my suspicion that Belen is one of the few who can transcend the timelines in any guise and at any point."

  "Fascinating theory. I'd like to discuss that with you, sometime."

  "As you wish it," Nefrigar smiled. "I think of him as a recurring comet, who travels at will through the universes. I believe he was created for that purpose."