Happy Snak

by Nicole Kimberling

  Drake’s servant, Nancy, appeared in his study doorway, dressed in her bathrobe and slippers. Her normally neat brown page-cut hair was so knotted and askew that it resembled a poorly kept and inexpensive wig.

  “You have a gentleman caller from the West Court, sir. Lord—” She broke off, stifling a yawn. “Lord Adam Wexley.”

  “I’m not at home to guests,” Drake snapped, then, turning away, murmured, “Nobles…they think they can ring your bell at any time of day they like.”

  “He says it’s an emergency.”

  “Everything is an emergency for them. Send him away.”

  “He’s got a nice smile,” Nancy said. “And nice legs.”

  Drake left his telescope and crossed to the fishbowl that he used as a scrying device. On the water’s surface, he conjured the image of his gentleman caller.

  Lord Wexley was a tall rectangular man with very square shoulders and a casual looseness of his limbs that lent him a marionette-like appearance. He wore tight yellow and black club wear that looked tawdry in normal light. Drake could see Adam’s small nipples through the sheer fabric. His eyes were blue.

  “You say he said his business was of the utmost urgency?”

  “No, I said he said he was here because of an emergency,” Nancy corrected.

  Drake waved the difference aside with an impatient hand.

  “Bring our guest coffee. Tell him I will be with him as soon as I am able.”

  Drake showered and shaved and found a clean black shirt and a pair of jeans and put on his rings, malingering in the bath for as long as he could before joining his guest in the living room approximately an hour later.

  Adam hadn’t touched the coffee tray, apparently because he had fallen asleep.

  He lay sprawled across Drake’s bone-colored sofa like he owned it, smelling of whiskey, sweat and cigarettes. His short blond hair looked sticky with spent product. Drake sat in his armchair and poured himself some coffee. Drake expected Adam to wake, but he didn’t. So Drake set the coffee pot down on its silver tray with an unnecessary clang. Nothing. Not even a snore. The grand magician leaned close to his ear.

  “Lord Wexley, do you intend to spend the whole day asleep on my couch? I will expect you to pay me rent for it, I promise you.”

  Adam’s bloodshot eyes popped open and he sat up, confused.

  “Drake?”

  “Yes, Lord Wexley?”

  “Please call me Adam.”

  Drake nodded and Adam continued, “Grand Magician Zachary Drake, I wish to—”

  “You wish to summon me to attend Lady Langdon, Minister of the West Court?”

  “Yes, Lady Langdon—” he began, but Drake cut him off again.

  “Certainly she must have told you that I prefer not to work for the Courts of the Four Directions,” Drake said. Adam looked like a confused little boy who had just been told that the world is not flat after all, but can’t quite grasp the information. His eyes roamed over Drake, as if he’d just noticed Drake had a physical presence.

  Drake caught Adam’s eyes lingering on his ostentatious and obviously magical rings. Drake sensed that he was rating them, deciding which ring looked most evil. Was it the blood diamond? The talon? The fat silver spider?

  Drake wanted to reach out and smooth Adam’s hair and straighten his collar. He restrained himself. He suspected that days spent doing nothing but mathematics had rendered him impulsive and delirious.

  “But the astrologers have decreed that Lady Langdon’s daughter Carolyn will be in labor before noon,” Adam said as if this explained everything.

  “I don’t see how I could be of any use. I’m not well practiced in midwifery.” Drake dropped a cube of cinnamon-sugar into his coffee.

  “The Medallion of Rayner has been stolen. You must help get it back. Now do you understand?”

  Drake understood immediately. Without Lady Langdon’s holy medallion, the protective barrier surrounding her daughter would be incomplete, leaving mother and child vulnerable to curses and possession.

  “That is unfortunate, but I must regretfully decline. Because of the appearance of a strange new star, I am currently engaged with remapping the night sky. It’s a big project involving tricky mathematics that only I understand. I have no time to spare for finding Lady Langdon’s lost jewelry.” As Drake stood to leave, Adam caught him by the arm. Adam’s hand felt warm from sleep.

  “She knows where the medallion is, she just can’t get it.” Adam’s cell phone rang again. He glanced at the display and looked pained. “Lady Langdon said that I must return with you at any cost, so name your price.”

  Drake considered asking Adam for either a kiss or his immortal soul but decided that the former gave his hand away and the latter… He had no use for a soul as pure as Adam’s. But his earnest, guileless expression moved Drake. He thought that it was no wonder Lady Langdon had sent him. Adam fell well within Drake’s tastes and usual strike range.

  Crafty old biddy knows me too well, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Is that any way to beg my favor?”

  Adam flushed deep red then bowed his deepest and most formal bow.

  “I, Adam Wexley of the West Court, humbly request the honor of your presence in the court this morning, Grand Magician Drake. Would you please accompany me on this matter of great urgency?”

  Drake smiled. “It would be my singular pleasure.”

  Second chances are one in a million.

  Reaching Higher

  © 2009 Ann Somerville

  Encounters, Book 2

  Kine Raelne and his crew came to Quarn on a desperate, illegal mission to try to save his home planet. Captured and condemned to death for their crime, he and two other mission survivors are offered a chance to redeem themselves—and to go home, if they’re lucky. But it means working with a bunch of Quarnians who have every reason to distrust them.

  Suaj qel Gwan knows what it’s like to be the outsider, and he has more cause than most to hate Raelne and his kind for what they did. Suaj’s telepathic ability might mean he has to work with the offworlders, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

  As they learn to work together to achieve their goals, Raelne and Suaj find within each other a reason to reach beyond their ingrained prejudice. But there are others who would use their fragile trust to achieve their own ends…

  Warning: This title contains m/m sex, angst, interplanetary lovin’ and airplanes.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Reaching Higher:

  Nobody said anything for several moments after the two of them left. Raelne bit his lip. “You’re going to pay that guy a bonus, right?”

  “There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate someone for this treatment.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  Suaj made an angry slicing motion. “The only thing more irritating than Joese’s behaviour is your constant apologising for it.”

  “I’m s…okay. I just want to say, for the record, we’re not all like that. Honestly.”

  “That’s self-evident, Mister Kine.”

  “Is there really nowhere else I could sleep?”

  “Not without inconveniencing even more people. Do you have an objection to my company?”

  “Of course not. I was just thinking you need a break from me. That’s all.”

  “I’m capable of judging my own limits. Allow me a few minutes to attend to my belongings and then you can come along at your leisure.” He stood. “Good night,” he said curtly to the four of them.

  After Suaj left, Raelne smiled queasily at his three remaining companions. “Is difficult sometimes.”

  Sernan gave Raelne an embarrassed grin of sympathy. “Yes,” Maner said gravely. “Some friends are.”

  “Good night. See you in the morning.”

  There was another smaller lounge near the rear of the carriage which also had clear views of the passing scenery. Though it was night, all three of the planet’s moons had risen and the effect of the moonlight on the fresh snow was rather p
retty. It didn’t snow in Kosat, where he’d lived since he was five. It did sometimes up on his grandparents’ place. Damn, he missed them, and everyone else.

  He checked his watch. He’d given Suaj twenty minutes. Plenty of time. Sure enough, he found the man tucked in on the upper bunk, facing the wall. Raelne did his best not to disturb him. Whatever he claimed, Suaj definitely needed some time on his own, or at least with his own kind. Raelne could wring Harnol’s neck. He hadn’t been this annoying on the flight out, but then he hadn’t had the ability to get away with it. Hell, Raelne was already convicted of murder. They wouldn’t hold it against him if he killed Harnol for being a pain in the arse and an embarrassment to Tuzax, would they?

  Though the sleeping accommodation was as luxurious as the rest of the carriage, and the bunk’s mattress thick and of good quality, sleeping side-on to the direction of travel wasn’t comfortable, and it took him a good while to fall asleep. He woke with his heart pounding out of his chest.

  “What the hell was that?” What had woken him? A sound? The train jolted again and made an awful grinding noise. “Have we crashed?” The bunk light wouldn’t work.

  “Possibly. Get dressed.”

  “I can’t see.”

  “Wait.”

  He heard the man descend from the bunk with ease, as if the lights were on and he could see just fine. A click and snap, and then something landed on Raelne’s bunk. He was almost blinded as a bright light came on close to his face.

  “Sorry.” Suaj moved the portable lamp. “I believe we may have derailed. Get dressed.”

  “Really? Damn.”

  He set the lamp on the fold-down table. Suaj was already stripping down to his underwear. Raelne stared. The man was covered in—

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh. Sorry. Uh…I need…”

  Suaj moved out of his way, clearly offended by his doltish behaviour. Raelne dressed as quickly as he could, very carefully not staring at the pure white fur covering Suaj’s body.

  Before they could leave the cabin, a knock came at their door. Suaj answered and spoke to someone outside the room. Raelne waited. They probably weren’t in any imminent danger. There wasn’t enough shouting.

  Suaj stepped back inside and closed the door. “The train struck an object on the track. We haven’t derailed but there’ll be some delay while they clear it. Most likely it was a group of rejers. It’s a common hazard. You may as well go back to sleep.”

  “Right. Um, I’m sorry for staring before…”

  “You’re not the first to do so, Mister Kine.”

  The lights came on then, and Raelne could now see Suaj’s expression more clearly. He’d expected anger, but it was more…sadness. Perhaps resignation.

  “People think you’re a freak, don’t they?”

  “People are stupid, as you have seen ample evidence of today.”

  “I don’t think it’s ugly. It’s, um…beautiful. You shouldn’t need to hide it.”

  “Human fascination with my appearance is a distraction that I don’t want or need. I warned you about personal remarks.”

  “Yes, you did. I apologise. I’ll, uh, turn away.”

  “To what point? You’ve seen. Look to your heart’s content.”

  Raelne flushed at the raw scorn in Suaj’s normally expressionless tone. “I’ve seen enough. I’ll use the bathroom, since I’m awake. Excuse me.”

  He bolted out of the room and to the bathroom up the corridor. Idiot, idiot, idiot. He knew how sensitive Suaj was to people drawing attention to his differences, yet Raelne had made Harnol look like the diplomat on the team.

  Suaj was so beautiful though.

  He washed his face, used the toilet, dallied as long as he could. Suaj had left the lower bunk light on for him, and though he was facing away from Raelne, the stiffness of his back told him his companion wasn’t asleep.

  “Please, Suaj. I need you to forgive me. I’m so sorry. It was ignorant and rude—”

  “To admire me? To desire me?”

  Raelne flushed hot. “I didn’t say I—”

  “I said, you’re not the first. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “Then why are you angry?”

  “I’m not. I… You’re correct. I perhaps need a break. This translation is very tiring for me.”

  “What can I do to make it easier? If you’d like me to work with someone else—Werse, maybe?”

  “And take on your Mister Joese? I don’t think so, Mister Kine.”

  “Damn it, my name’s Raelne. Everyone calls you by your given name. I’m not your enemy. You turn every conversation into a battle. I just want to…to…to be a friend, damn you!”

  “This is how you convince me?”

  Raelne gritted his teeth. “No. I can’t drop my mental shield, but if I could, you’d see I bear you no ill will. I like you. I admire your ability and your patience. I’m very grateful for your tolerating Harnol and me, and the way you’ve tried to ease my way. Right from the start, I felt you’ve done your best and since you hate me so much, that makes it even more admirable.”

  Suaj said nothing. Raelne felt like a prize fool. “I’m sorry.”

  Suaj rolled over, and gave Raelne the full force of his extraordinary eyes. “Mister Kine…Raelne. I appreciate your admiration. However, you’re overlooking the fact that this…intimacy is artificial. We’ve been thrown together by circumstance, and because your range of contacts is necessarily limited, you’re trying to convince yourself that this means we should be friends. Much as Mister Joese is determined to ignore the fact that Werse loathes him.”

  “Do you loathe me? You said you did.”

  “My feelings are immaterial. What I’m trying to point out is that I’m unsuitable for the role into which you’ve cast me. I don’t make friends easily, nor wish to. I’m not someone who wishes confidences, or gives them. My patience with you is something that has been ordered. It doesn’t come naturally.”

  “I see. I’m making an idiot of myself. Thank you for being honest. I won’t impose on your kindness any more.”

  “For what it’s worth, you aren’t as much of a trial as your colleague would be.”

  Raelne laughed dryly. “Why does that not thrill me as much as it might? You’re right. I just want not to be the stranger.”

  “Unavoidable, I’m afraid. You aren’t here by choice, and you weren’t invited. Go to sleep.”

  “And we won’t talk about this again either.”

  “No. Good night.”

  Bugger. Six months until he could get out of this situation. Longer if he didn’t manage to avoid strangling Harnol, or being thrown off the project by an enraged Suaj. If he could survive this train journey, he’d be doing extremely well.

  Trust will either destroy them…or save them both.

  The Promise of Kierna’Rhoan

  © 2008 Isabo Kelly

  Kira Farseaker led a sheltered, privileged life—until her discovery of a cruel secret plunged her into an underworld of danger. Now she vows to use her money and position to save an alien species, the Shifters, from government-sanctioned extermination.

  A secret planet, a Farseaker legacy known as Kierna’Rhoan, could offer at least some of the evolving Shifters the sanctuary they need to survive. To get them there safely will be the most dangerous mission Kira has ever attempted—a task that isn’t made any easier by her attraction to the dark, hungry eyes of a suspected spy.

  Officer David Cario’s assignment to a Shifter extermination squadron is just the break he needs to learn why his sister was executed. Earning the trust of his commander’s ex-wife, suspected terrorist Kira Farseaker, is easier said than done, especially when crossing into her world brings him face to face with truths he isn’t prepared to discover.

  Swept up in a growing whirlpool of corruption and treachery, Kira and David find themselves locked in a struggle between duty and a growing passion that could destroy everything they’ve worked for. Or save both their lives.

&
nbsp; Enjoy the following excerpt for The Promise of Kierna’Rhoan:

  Kira stood staring at the door that led to David, trying to settle herself for another confrontation. The fights and accusations were wearing on her. The exhaustion that had swept her in the lift sat heavily on her shoulders. And dread mixed with a tingling of anticipation at seeing the Guard. Just the thought of his kiss made her lips burn. Knowing she’d remember the feel of his touch all too vividly in his presence, Kira wasn’t sure she’d be able to manage this meeting. But it had to be done.

  Pushing her hair behind her ears, she left Command. Raf stopped her in the corridor just outside the air-sealed entrance to the fan rooms.

  “Kira,” he began, then fell silent and stared at the floor for a few minutes, his brow deeply creased with unspoken thoughts. After a time, his brow softened and he grinned. “You’re something else, Farseaker. And for what it’s worth, I think liars are the best kinds of people.”

  A laugh burst from Kira so suddenly it surprised her and made her laugh harder. “Glad to know it,” she said when she could talk again. “Thanks.” She tapped his arm gently. “Now, get off your ass and make sure you’re ready to pilot us off this rock.”

  He smiled, winked and squeezed her shoulder before walking away. Kira shook her head, baffled by the scene but thankful for the release of tension. When she stepped through the air seal into the smoking rooms, she was grinning.

  David leaned against a wall, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. He’d seen Kira and Raf’s brief exchange—the air seal was transparent—but he hadn’t been able to hear them. It didn’t matter. Seeing was enough to make his blood boil. Her grin didn’t help his state of mind any.

  He took another deep pull on the cigarette, waiting for her to notice him. When she did, her step faltered. She slowed, moving toward him with a wary gaze.

  “I think there are a few things you’d better explain to me,” she said.

  Her hard tone made him bristle. “I was going to say the same thing.” He puffed at the cigarette again, the glowing tip almost to his fingers. He dropped it to the floor, smashed it beneath his boot heel and lit another.