Wanderlust Page 21
Tired of being jerked around, I started a melee between the clans right out in the open, not knowing that blood would draw the Teras, awful winged monsters that sweep across the plains like a plague, eating everything in sight. And because of an evolutionary boon, you can’t see them coming—just hear the sound of their wings.
Despite my best intentions, I can still hear the Gunnar warriors screaming as they were swept away on that hungry tide, an unseen army of claws and talons rushing around me in the dark. I shiver. No more thinking of that. Not now. It’s safe here behind the electrical perimeter, and nobody is bleeding.
I make myself smile at Keri. “I swear I didn’t intend for this to turn into such a—Doc!” I spot him about thirty meters out and take off at a dead run.
Part of me had worried I’d never see him again. What if Vel had lied about leaving him in a trunk when he took his place? That’s how the bounty hunter managed to snag me; he pretended to be Doc. So there’s some truth to the Syndicate’s worry that Sliders—a human slang term for Ithtorians, or Bugs, as they’re also called—present a threat to our way of life.
But Vel didn’t lie. There Doc stands, solid and sturdy, still wearing his salt-and-pepper goatee, and his hair shorn close to his skull. Come to that, we have the same haircut now.
He breaks into a broad smile and meets me halfway. His hug practically pulverizes my ribs, but I don’t care. My eyes sting. Doc was the first one to treat me like I wasn’t dangerous or criminally insane, responsible for the lost lives on the Sargasso. I’ll never forget him for that.
“I missed you,” I say shakily. This probably isn’t ambassadorial behavior, but I don’t give a shit. “You’re really all right?”
“I’m fine, Jax. Good to see you, too. Er, you can let go now.” Yep, it’s definitely Doc. I expect him to comment on my fragile appearance, but he has more tact than that. I’ve been surrounded by the likes of March, Dina, and Jael too long.
My bodyguard says, “They’ll have you on the news, speculating about an illicit affair with him, by morning. Possible impropriety by the New Terran ambassador?” he intones, just like one of the talking heads.
“Please. Nobody cares.” But I step back nonetheless.
Doc scans all our faces and seems to focus on Vel. “You. I believe you mistook me for luggage on our last meeting.”
Since Vel looks like everyone and no one, it’s a logical leap, and Doc excels in that area. I can’t imagine what he makes of the situation we currently find ourselves in. Hopefully, he’ll be able to help me. I can’t think too long about the possibilities otherwise.
“Sorry about that.” I must say, Vel doesn’t look sorry. “Farwan supplied me with erroneous information.”
For a long, tense moment, I think cool, calm pacifist Doc might sock the bounty hunter in the nose. Then he says, “I suppose everyone makes mistakes. Let’s go inside, shall we?”
The gutter press follows at a discreet distance, filming the whole time. I’d suggest feeding them to the Teras, but that might strike a sore spot with Keri. I’ve already hurt the poor girl enough.
March throws brooding looks over his shoulder now and then. I bet he’d like to pound them on principle. Mary, I don’t know what to do about that. I know I’m hurting him. And I want him; I miss him. But I can’t let myself need him, not because I’m physically incapacitated. And if he doesn’t understand that, then he doesn’t know me at all.
Just from this short walk, my fingertips have gone numb, the icy wind ripping right through me. When I picked out the vest, I forgot it was still winter here. Time is fluid, so the moments where everything feels perfect pass in a wink, and those where you’re on your knees in despair drag on like the death of a thousand cuts.
As if he notices my discomfort, Jael presses up against my right side in a manner that’s destined to provoke March in the worst way. The merc can be such an asshole—he’s just doing it for the entertainment value. I pretend I don’t notice either of them.
Fucking men.
We pass into the warmth of the house and shut ourselves away from prying eyes. I hope. I muster a smile, even though I’m already tired as hell. Yeah, just from that short hike. Couldn’t have been more than half a kilometer.
Keri’s home is lovely as ever, with all the elegance that surprised me the first time I visited. The place possesses the old-world charm of handcrafted moldings, shimmering marble tiles, and carpets so thick I’m afraid to walk on them. They’ve redone the foyer since I was here last, though: red and black now, a little more foreboding than the chilly silver and white elegance her grandmother had favored.
The tiles form a pattern I can’t identify, though I’ve seen it somewhere before. I stare down, absently rubbing my hands up and down my biceps. Up the stairs, she offers capacious guest suites, and hallways lead in either direction. An enormous silver-gilt mirror with acid-etched leaves dominates the far wall, offering distorted hints of the people standing in the foyer. I can’t help but shiver, as if we’ve been granted a glimpse into the afterlife, nothing but vague shapes and shadows.
“Looks beautiful,” March says. “It’s completely you, Keri.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks pink with delicate color as she turns toward him.
Just like that, she forgets me. I’d also forgotten the huge, unrequited crush she had on March the last time we stopped here. The little darling—she’s all of nineteen, fights like a chi master, and had started to learn advanced feats before her grandmother passed away. On top of all that, at her age, she acts as joint chieftain to her clan. Keri has smooth skin, a sylph’s shape, a spill of night-dark hair, and eyes that gleam like pale jade. And by March’s smiles, he’s noticing for the first time how lovely his mentor’s granddaughter has grown to be.
I fucking hate the bitch.
* * *
CHAPTER 26
“Where’s Lex?” That’s one question sure to snap Keri out of the March-induced daze she currently enjoys. Lex is the big lug she’s supposed to marry as part of the clan merger. To say she hates him would be an understatement.
She spears me with an icy stare and bares her teeth in what would be considered a hostile act on some worlds. “War council. You came at a bad time, Jax.”
What else is new?
“What’s going on?” March asks.
I recognize his solicitous tone and barely manage to keep from rolling my eyes. He thinks Keri is delicate and needs his protection. I’m sure he feels some obligation as well, given that Keri’s grandmother took him in when his gift had ravaged him and taught him to be human again. And Keri is all that his mentor left behind. I guess he doesn’t know that Keri whipped my ass without breaking a sweat.
Beside me, Jael sizes up Keri’s men, as if he suspects any situation I’m involved in could turn ugly on a moment’s notice. I didn’t realize he knew me that well.
“It’s bad. I’ll tell you about it on the way. I’m sure Lex will want to see you.” With a definite proprietary air, she takes hold of his arm. “Saul,” she adds over her shoulder to Doc. “Can you get everyone else settled for me? Thanks.”
Her honor guard, or whatever the hell they are, spins as a unit and follows her down the left hallway. None of them said a single word from the time we met her outside the ship, until now. Fucking creepy.
“They move like military,” Jael murmurs. “Well trained, too. I wonder what’s happening on this backwater world.”
I shrug. “Hard to say. They’re always fighting over something here. I think it cuts down on boredom.”
Doc favors me with a piercing look. “Don’t be flip, Jax. When two clans join, it’s time to strike. It’s well-known here, both clans are weak, or they wouldn’t need a merger. Waiting until things are stable doesn’t make good tactical sense.”
“What’s the point, though?” Jael asks. “From what I saw, the whole planet is pretty bare. What the hell is there worth fighting over?”
“Gunnar-Dahlgren controls the magnesium mines on planet,” Doc answers briefly. “I probably don’t need to outline all the goods that encompasses.”
In my case, he does. But Jael nods, ticking them off his fingertips. “Flash grenades, imaging technology, pyrotechnics for festivals, certain metal alloys, which translates to machinery that needs to be strong and lightweight—”
“It’s used in some medicines as well,” Doc says with a nod. “And if we can’t defend the mines, they’ll wipe us out.”
Us? I didn’t realize Doc was from Lachion. Based on his friendship with Ordo Carvati on Gehenna, I would’ve guessed he came from the Outskirts somewhere.
I sigh. “I didn’t understand what I’d done the last time I was here.”
Not really, anyway. I didn’t have anything like the big picture, even when we left. Keri has been fighting her own uphill battle ever since we left. And by the look of things, it’s not getting any easier.
“When do you ever know what you’re doing, Jax?” Dina grins at me.
Ignoring that, Doc tries to herd us toward the stairs. “You can pick out the rooms you like best. Perhaps you’d like the one you occupied last time, Jax?”
Yeah, I like the Blue Room, very serene, and it has handmade rugs so soft I sink into them. “Sure, that sounds fine.”
At this point, I notice that Vel has disappeared. I wonder if he has camo that I don’t know about because he has a habit of doing that: there one minute and gone the next. He can take care of himself, though.
“I don’t care. Assign me whatever.” Dina sighs. “If I can find parts and mod kits, I’m heading back to the ship. I have work to do.”
Jael surprises me—and evidently Dina as well, judging by her expression—by asking, “Need help?”
She narrows her eyes on him for a long moment before shrugging. “The ship needs a lot of upgrades. So if you know how to handle your tools, I won’t say no to an extra hand.”
The merc risks his life by draping an arm about her shoulders. “Darling, I’m expert with my hands.”
She shocks me when she doesn’t immediately drive her elbow into his stomach. I can’t believe he still flirts with her, even knowing he has no shot. Maybe he suffers from a chronic disorder. I expected he’d stick to me like glue after the lecture he just gave me, but I’m glad to get rid of him. As they go back out into the cold, I hear her reply, “Your own opinion doesn’t count, dumb-ass.”
That just leaves Doc and me. To avoid the questions in his very kind eyes, I head up the stairs. I should have known that wouldn’t matter.
“What’s wrong, Jax?”
I pause on the fourth step, but don’t turn. “I was hoping you could tell me. That’s part of why we’re here. Tarn cooked up this other nonsense.”
“I deduced as much,” he tells me.
Without looking at him, I confide the droid’s diagnosis. I expect him to laugh or tell me it’s ridiculous. Instead I receive silence that lasts until I wheel and gaze down at him. He looks troubled.