“Harder to break a flat nose with a punch to the face?”
“Yeah.” She nodded toward Keplok. “So…is he any nicer than the others?”
Larry grimaced. “He took some getting used to, but down deep, he’s okay. Becoming mated to Dartula helped his attitude considerably.”
Jack chuckled. “Probably helped hers too.”
“I believe it did.” Falling in love with Althea had certainly improved his own attitude. Not that he was ever as much of a dick as Keplok had been.
At least, he hoped he wasn’t.
Am I anything like—?
Nope. No possible way.
* * *
Althea had always wondered what it would be like to land on Rhylos and actually explore Damenk without cringing at every emotion she sensed. That constant onslaught combined with the subliminal advertising that ran riot in the city had always threatened to drive her stark raving mad. This time, however, she was able to compartmentalize her reactions—to put them in a box, so to speak. The planet still cried out to her in agony, but she was able to acknowledge that pain without actually feeling it. Her family was the same as they’d always been—reading their emotions usually wasn’t necessary when looking and listening to them would suffice, and they’d rarely kept secrets from her.
With the possible exception of her brother Aidan.
His expression said he was pleased to see her and even more pleased that she and Larry were together. But his emotions were still shielded in some manner—controlled, even. Not that she couldn’t read him; he wasn’t like Larry in that respect. But now, more than ever, she was convinced she had hit upon what he’d been hiding for so long. He was pleased, yes. But more than that, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. Not in the smug manner that Jack had displayed. More like he actually knew the way their story would turn out long before anyone else.
Nevertheless, he hugged her and congratulated her on becoming mated to Larry and for being pregnant.
“I’m so happy for you. Two boys and a girl, right?” His inflection made it more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Cat told us,” he replied, his expression too bland to be convincing. “He always knows.”
She gave him a tiny nod. “True.” There was more to it than that. She was certain of it. Someday, he would tell her everything. However, this was not that day. “Still helping out at the orphanage?”
“Not so much these days,” he replied. “But I keep busy. You know me… A little of this, a little of that.”
Vague, as always. “I see.”
“How long are you staying?”
“Only for a day or two. Larry has several repair jobs lined up on other worlds. Some of his clients weren’t very happy when he told them he had to come here first.”
“I can understand that. Most people don’t like being out of touch.” He tilted his head, regarding her with glowing green eyes that were very much like her own. He was one of the lucky ones; like Dartula, he’d inherited their father’s golden hair and was even more handsome than their father. However, if he’d ever had a girlfriend, he’d kept her a secret too. “Unlike you.”
“You know why that is,” she said.
“Yes, I do. Better now?”
“Much better.”
“Glad to hear it. You really had us all worried about where you’d gone.” Except she could tell he wasn’t worried and never had been. He’d known she would come back and that they would meet again in this time and place. That was one reaction he couldn’t hide.
Nevertheless, she opted to play along. “Sorry about that. It seemed like the best solution at the time.”
“I’m sure it was.” A twitch of his brow signaled the change of topic she’d been expecting. “So, a planet with giant ship-eating sandworms, huh? Should’ve known Dune wasn’t fiction.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I certainly never want to set foot on that world again. Spice or no spice.”
“I can’t blame you for that.”
There it was again. That carefully controlled release of the appropriate emotion. Why she’d never noticed it before was a mystery. But then, perhaps her sojourn in the jungle had made her less sensitive to some things and more sensitive to others.
Larry came up beside her and draped his arm around her shoulders. She might not be able to read him, but he’d certainly never purposely hidden anything from her. He was Larry. Her lifelong pal and now her lifelong mate.
“Good to see you again, Aidan,” he said before turning to peer at her. “You doing okay, Al? No bad vibes?”
“Plenty of bad vibes, but at least I have them under control. I can’t say I want to spend much time here, though. It’s…tiring.”
“No worries. We won’t be here long, although Mom said we’re all going to dinner at some cool Markelian deli. Said it’s the one they all went to after they rescued Onca.” He frowned. “I know I was on that trip, but I sure don’t remember ever going to that deli.”
Althea smiled. “You don’t remember it because you stayed on the ship with me.”
If Larry’s grin had been any broader, his fangs would’ve pierced his lower lip. “That’s right. I did stay with you, didn’t I? Must’ve been practicing for the future when we had our own ship.” His expression sobered. “You be sure to tell me when this crazy planet starts getting to you. We can leave whenever you like, and we don’t ever have to come back here again if you don’t want to.”
Sighing, she curled her arm around his waist and leaned into him. “You’re such a sweetie. I think I can handle a few short visits now and then. Wouldn’t want to live here though.”
“Neither would I. Dunno how you stand it, Aidan. All the ‘buy this, eat that’ stuff seeping into my brain is driving me nuts. I’ve had to tell myself ‘I don’t want it and I don’t need it’ about twenty times already. It’s worse than the market in Thewbeohol. I mean, why would anyone want—or need—three dozen bottles of dehydrated water?”
As a peal of joyous laughter escaped her, Althea recalled that, throughout her life, Larry had been the one person she could always count on to make her smile. Given all the roiling emotions she’d had to deal with, someone who could do that was beyond price. Loving him made him that much more precious to her.
His wicked grin and sly sidelong glance suggested he was about to make her laugh one more time.
“Speaking of places we never want to visit again…” He turned to where his mother stood chatting with the Duo. “Hey, Mom,” he called out. “Remember that dude you got into a fight with on Palorka?”
Order Cheryl Brooks’s next book
in the Cat Star Legacy series
Mystic
On sale January 2019
Read on for an excerpt from the next book in the
Cat Star Legacy series by Cheryl Brooks:
MYSTIC
Available January 2019
from Sourcebooks Casablanca
Chapter 1
In a vision, Aidan had watched her fall, disappearing through a fissure in the rock as the ground gave way beneath her, her screams reverberating through his mind like the tumbling roar of an avalanche.
Although most people would’ve dismissed it as a dream, he knew the terrifying vision for what it was: a portent of a future event, which was not uncommon among his kind. Therefore, she hadn’t fallen—yet. The trouble was, he didn’t know whether he was supposed to prevent the accident or rescue her after she fell.
He’d spent the last week flying over the cliffs, his keen eyes searching the jumbled boulders for any sign that she’d ever been there. Thus far, he’d found nothing. No trace of any life aside from the cliff-dwelling condors and the assorted rodents that were widespread in the remote mountains of Rhylos.
But the vision… He’d seen it four times n
ow. This was the right place. He was certain of it. More certain, perhaps, than he’d ever been of anything.
He skimmed over the plateau before swooping down over the edge of the cliffs—jagged rock fit only as a nesting place for the huge condors, which had been named for an extinct Terran species. Some said they looked similar, and, having seen pictures, he agreed. However, these birds were even larger than the original condors had been, and they defended their nests with a ferocity few avian species could match.
His vision had been maddeningly vague. He should’ve at least known why she was there. Was she studying the condors? Or was she simply trying to find their nests in order to steal the eggs? He couldn’t think of any other reasons why anyone would venture so far from civilization to this, one of the few uninhabited regions of the planet. Neither of those reasons seemed important enough to warrant a vision. Visions came when they wished; he had no control over their timing or their topics. The only thing he could control was the wind, enabling him to don a pair of wings and create updrafts strong enough to carry him aloft.
Only Valkyrie, the Avian clone, knew of his flights. Val would’ve hidden his own talent if he’d been able to remove his wings, but his were as much a part of him as his other limbs. No genetic manipulations could undo what had already been done to him.
As Aidan flew back up the cliff face, a flash of light on the plateau caught his eye—the effect of sunlight on metal. Something was moving down there. Something he’d only seen because of his vantage point high in the sky.
And there she is…
How he’d missed her before he couldn’t imagine—especially on the open mountainside, unless it wasn’t quite as open as it appeared. As she climbed up the edge of the plateau as though ascending a staircase, the air crackled around him like a thousand tiny lightning bolts. The moment had come.
He flew lower, hovering effortlessly, letting the wind do the work while he studied her. A backpack and other accoutrements were strapped to her upper body. Everything she wore—from her wide-brimmed hat, leather jacket, and khaki trousers, down to a pair of dusty boots suitable for climbing—was the same color as the rocks, causing her to blend in with her surroundings in a manner that seemed strangely covert.
A visual sweep of the plain revealed no speeder or other conveyance nearby. Had she hiked into the wilderness?
When she looked up, his eyes met hers—huge, expressive, and brown—with an impact that nearly caused him to fall out of the sky.
In the split second before he shouted a warning, she slipped from view, leaving nothing behind beyond a puff of dust that feathered away to nothingness even as he plummeted toward her, his heart pounding like a drum. He chastised himself as he flew; he’d assumed he was there to save her, when, in all probability, he’d actually been the cause of her misstep.
A condor’s harsh cry made him alter his route from the plateau where she’d disappeared down to the opening in the cliff face and the cavern into which she had undoubtedly fallen. He soared through the opening just as he’d seen the condors do. Unfortunately, he’d only come prepared to rescue her, carrying a knife, a length of rope, a sling made of leather straps and carabiners, and a comlink. He hadn’t counted on having to get past an angry condor with murderous talons and a razor-sharp beak.
Correction. Make that two condors and a nest full of eggs. At least he assumed there were eggs in the nest. He couldn’t see for sure, although given the female’s protective stance, he deemed it a safe bet. “Son of a bitch.”
Fortunately, the female seemed disinclined to move from her position on the nest. The male, however, was already advancing on the woman’s crumpled body. Against the far wall of the cave below the crack in the plateau, she lay unmoving amid the rubble that had fallen with her. A soft moan told him she still lived.
No doubt the condor, which was easily twice her size, intended to change that.
Focusing his attention on the huge bird, he created a gust of wind with a sweep of his arm, sending the condor fluttering to the side of the cave where his nest and mate were situated between two upright slabs of rock.
Undaunted and angrier than ever, the condor hissed and began stalking toward him. Aidan really didn’t like the idea of killing or even injuring the bird, but he might not have a choice. Taking advantage of the bird’s position, which was now between him and the mouth of the cave, he created another gust that sent the bird flapping out into the open air.
One glance was enough to inform him that this woman was quite small. Val could’ve carried her easily. Never having flown with more than his own weight, Aidan wasn’t sure he was up to the task. His own physical strength wasn’t the only factor. The wings and their harness were sturdy, but not unbreakable. Not for the first time, he wished his wings were a part of him the way Val’s were—although when it came to sitting and sleeping, wings large enough to enable a man to fly tended to get in the way.
Upon reaching her side, he recoiled immediately when he spotted what he took to be a snake, but was actually a leather bullwhip.
He almost laughed aloud. “Who do you think you are? Indiana Jones?” Upon closer inspection, her outfit was exactly the same as that worn by the fictional archeologist. For trekking through the mountains, such garb was quite practical, although the resemblance to “Indy” ended there. She was small and undeniably female, with shiny black hair that had been braided back from her face and pinned into a twisted knot at her nape. His gaze swept over her exotically beautiful face, taking in the rich brown of her skin, the fullness of her lips, and the lovely arch of her brows.
“No,” she murmured. “I am Sula.” Her eyelids fluttered and she let out a gasp. “Are you an angel, come to take me to Raj?”
Given his feathered wings and long, golden curls, her assumption was reasonable enough, although not many people believed in angels anymore.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” he replied. “Who’s Raj?”
Her attempt to raise her head must’ve triggered more pain or had simply been too much of an effort, for she lapsed into unconsciousness. He folded his wings and detached the sling he’d brought, grateful that she’d fainted. This maneuver would undoubtedly be terrifying and—depending on her injuries, which, he could see at a glance, included a break in her left lower leg—excruciatingly painful. Moving her was risky; leaving her where she lay meant almost certain death.
A wingbeat drew his attention to the opening in the cliff face. Mr. Condor appeared to have recovered nicely and had returned for another round. Aidan’s response was to summon up the wind and literally blow him away.
He’d brought along a few basic supplies, but his vision hadn’t included treating a broken leg or fighting off enraged condors. Fortunately, Mrs. Condor remained on her nest, providing Aidan with the opportunity to scavenge for something he could use as a splint. He found a large piece of a bamboo-like material, which he was fairly certain he could split lengthwise down the center with his knife.
That was, until he found a spearhead that had been chipped out of stone.
Although he’d never heard of such a thing on Rhylos, apparently a primitive culture had once lived there. A glance at the cave walls revealed crude drawings of condors similar to the two he’d been dealing with. The drawings appeared to be fairly old—scuffed in some places, quite clear in others—and depicted strange beings brandishing spears to drive the birds from the cave. Primates with elongated heads and surprisingly short arms…
Rhylosian cavemen?
Possibly, although they were unlike any species he’d ever seen. Someone’s idea of a joke, no doubt. To the best of his recollection, Rhylos had no indigenous primates. Unless they’d died out long ago.
After splinting her leg with the bamboo and fastening it in place with her bullwhip, he rolled her onto the leather sling and then snapped it onto his wing harness. He made another sling from her own scarf to support her head—the on
ly item of her clothing that was colorful rather than drab—and tied it so her head wouldn’t fall back as he flew. He didn’t have to fly her very far—just out of this cave and away from irate condors—but he certainly didn’t want her to wind up with a broken neck in the process.
Mr. Condor returned, somewhat befuddled and as dangerous as ever.
“Persistent fellow, aren’t you?” Aidan muttered before blasting him out of the cave one more time.
Standing upright with Sula in his arms took surprisingly little effort. Clearing his mind as he made his way to the edge of the cliff, he let the sling support her weight, then raised his hands and produced a strong updraft. As the wind whipped past him, he tapped the control to spread his wings and stepped out into thin air.
Unfortunately, he’d overestimated the increase in weight, and the two of them shot up into the sky with enough force that he was sure his wings would snap—along with a few of his ribs. The harness squeezed the air from his lungs, and he fought desperately to inhale. Passing out now would be fatal. He focused on reducing the wind speed to tolerable levels, only managing to gulp in sufficient air just as his eyesight began to dim. Air flowed back into his compressed airways and his vision cleared.
The male condor gave chase for a while before flying back into the cave. Evidently it had decided that, however tasty they might appear, Aidan and Sula simply weren’t worth the trouble.
In truth, the condor could have caught them fairly easily because, unlike a bird’s wings, Aidan’s weren’t very effective at creating forward thrust. Although he could manipulate them to a certain extent, flapping them was so tiring that he’d developed a sort of swooping flight pattern. Using his control of the wind, he would rise high enough to allow him to glide forward and downward, letting momentum and gravity create the thrust. Flying alone was difficult enough; he’d never tried to fly carrying a living, breathing passenger. If she were to awaken and begin to struggle, maintaining altitude would be tricky, if not impossible.
Maverick Page 31
