Hope you're having as much fun reading this as I did writing it!
Anna
Chapter 8
Beka rested her cheek against the soft leather of Connor's jacket. The comforting scents of worn leather, spicy cologne and shampoo mingled with the faint aroma of manly sweat. She shivered, closing her eyes. It was a perfect smell. Simultaneously it drove her wild and relaxed her, made her feel safe. He spun her slowly, guiding the dance. This was one night that she didn't demand to take the lead. Instinctively, she felt that this man was strong enough for both of them. She wouldn't let her guard down, but she would sit back and enjoy the ride.
He spun her again and she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she stiffened, lifting her head from his shoulder. Across the room at the bar, Dylan sat chatting up a young woman. Of course, she was very beautiful. The beautiful flocked to him like bees to flowers. Beyond him, Tyr leaned forward and kissed a tall, striking woman. Beka frowned; feeling slightly betrayed. She wasn't good enough for Tyr, the model of all Nietzscheans, but he'd satisfy his desires with a stranger? It made no sense. She rested her chin back on Connor's shoulder, squeezing her lips shut tightly. She tried to ignore the sight of the two men so vital to her life moving away from her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head and nestled into the hollow of Connor's neck and shoulder. He was taller than she was so it was a natural position.
Screw them, she thought. They stared at her when they thought she wasn't looking. They danced around innuendo with her. Crap, she stared too. They were beautiful figures of men and she shouldn't have to stave off the flow of attraction for either of them. How dare they find willing women so easily and never even consider asking her?
She gritted her teeth, her anger building. Connor pushed her back slightly, bending to peer into her face with eyebrows raised in question. Tiny gold sparkles swirled in his hazel eyes, now a muddled brown-gold. She stared up into those eyes and suddenly leaned forward, taking his lips into hers. He kissed her back without hesitation. She felt the fire deep inside him. His kiss was tender and passionate, reserved and wild. When she pulled away, she was breathless. With one hand she reached up and stroked the faint trace of whiskers on his cheek and chin.
Screw Dylan. Screw Tyr.
Connor pulled her closer to him, molding her body to his.
"Let's go," she whispered into his ear.
He met her gaze to be certain. Then he smiled and led her from the smoky room.
~~
Tyr glanced up in time to see Beka slip out the door, arms wrapped around a tall dark-haired man. Regret and longing seized his stomach. Seeing her leave with another man and knowing deep inside where they were going angered him. His fingers clenched around the wrist of the woman, Melina, with whom he sat. She yelped in pain and yanked her hand away. Startled, he looked away from the door, released her and apologized. When he returned his gaze to the door, Beka and her date were gone.
He breathed deeply to soothe his anger, trying to examine his feelings. Why should he rationalize his need for physical comfort? Why should a human woman toss his emotions into this hurricane? As the deep breaths slowly calmed him, he knew why and he knew that he was in denial. It was safer that way. He could shout to the world that he was attracted to Beka, an inferior...a human. Or, he could save face and play the Nietzschean Alpha Male to the hilt. Admitting any amount of attraction for her could jeopardize the future he had planned for himself in the grand scheme of Nietzschean evolution. Certainly, many Nietzschean males allowed themselves to assuage their physical needs with a lesser woman...provided they took measures to ensure there would be no procreation. Beka Valentine would not stand for such a relationship. He knew that. He refused to even ask her. And, he refused to throw away his future for an inferior. So be it. He could live with that. Yes. He could. Couldn't he?
With a sexy grin, he turned back to Melina, massaging her barely injured wrist and nuzzling the nape of her long neck.
~~
Trance stopped to rub her calves. She hopped on one foot for a moment, while rubbing the other.
"Is there a problem?" Rommie asked, concern on her amazingly life- like face. The wet wind lifted her short dark hair up like giant fingers, and then dropped it into her face. She shook it aside in a gesture quite human.
The purple girl grimaced and blew a raindrop from the tip of her nose. "I didn't realize it was so far. Walking uphill makes my legs hurt."
Rommie squinted at the fluorescent white lights shining like beacons into the increasing dark and stormy night. "We have 2.54 miles to go and only..." she paused and did a mental calculation, "37 minutes to get there. That's plenty of time at our previous pace, however, if you're having problems we may not make it."
Trance gave her an exasperated look. "We'll make it. We'll make it, even though I'll probably have pneumonia and be lame for life."
"We only have to pass through the gate."
"I know. I-" Her words were cut off by the rumbling of a large horse drawn cart rushing by down the cobblestone street. The loud racket of horse hooves and metal wheels on wet stone drowned out all other sounds. "Wow, horses? I thought they had air cars."
Rommie stared after the carriage, pondering the implications. "Deso Ambulance Service," she said. "The carriage was an ambulance." She frowned, listening intently. About a half-mile up the hill, she saw a small crowd gathered. Men in simple green uniforms, like that of the gate guard, typed on small data pads. She could see flashes of ambient light from their accouterments. She decided they were rank insignia. Local police, she surmised. She wanted to switch paths, avoid the local authorities altogether. But this was the most direct route to the spaceport. There wasn't time to try another path. "Trance, this doesn't look like a very good part of town."
"It doesn't?"
The avatar met her companion's wide, frightened gaze. Despite her obvious superiority, Trance could be extremely child-like. Rommie decided not to tell her what she had seen. "We should go. We're running out of time."
The girl nodded quickly. They strode up the hill at an increased pace with Trance limping slightly.
By the time they reached the area where Rommie had seen the police, the street was deserted. The rain increased its tempo whipped into an intermittent fevered dance by gusts of strong wind. Soaked and miserable, Trance pulled her into the shelter of a storefront.
"Give me the bag," Trance said.
"What?" Rommie shouted over the whistle of the wind.
"The blue one. The blue bag has a jacket in it. I need it now. I'm freezing to death!"
Rommie fished into the blue bag and handed Trance a black jacket lined with fur from a local animal and rimmed with gold and white feathers. Trance slipped into it quickly. While she fastened it, the avatar surveyed the area, searching for signs of whatever the police and ambulance had been doing. She could see the faint signs of a struggle; a tiny piece of torn fabric, a faint trace of blood in the street.
Beside her, Trance bent down then straightened. "Rommie," she said her voice wavering.
Rommie turned. Trance held out something shiny in the palm of her hand. She met the avatar's gaze fearfully, tears glistening in her huge dark eyes.
The avatar reached out and took the small medallion and its broken chain. There was no doubt. On the back it said, 'Seamus Harper.' And trapped in the etched letters were traces of crusted blood.
Trance whimpered, tears falling to mingle with the cold rain on her cheeks.
Rommie shook her head sadly, putting an arm around the girl to comfort her. "We don't have time to look. The gate is closing and there's no place for us to stay. It isn't safe. We'll find him tomorrow."
Trance jerked away from her. "No. You go back if you want to, Rommie. I'm staying!"
"Trance," Rommie's tone held sympathy and admonishment.
The purple girl gave her a desperate look. "I wouldn't want you guys to leave me out here," she said softly.
The avatar sighed. "We'll stay then."
Suddenly, an inhuman shriek pierced the rainy night. Both women froze. The tiny hairs on Trance's arm stood and quivered in terror. "What was that?" she gasped as her racing heart clawed at her chest.
The shriek abruptly came again, echoing, carried on the wind. Lights in the shops around them snapped off, leaving the street illuminated only by the dim streetlamps, swaying in the wind.
Rommie shook her head, surveying the splattering rain and gloomy shadows. Leaves and papers swept by on the rising wind. "It's not close. It's coming down from the mountains."
The shriek sliced through the comforting patter of the raindrops on cobblestones. Instead of dying quickly, it settled into a low howl, like the moan of the dead. Trance swallowed hard. "The mountains? But they're so far away and that definitely sounds close by."
The avatar took her hand. "If we're going to look for Harper, we need to start now."
Trance met her eyes in the gloom. "It's so dark," she shouted over the howl.
"The shopkeepers have all gone."
"Everything is closed? Who'll tell us where places are? Oh, Rommie, this doesn't look good. Not good at all."
"It's only the wind, Trance."
The girl looked worried and terrified.
The moan slowly trailed off, leaving the scratching sound of leaves on stone and the slashing rain on the window glass of the dead shops. Trance clutched her jacket tightly around her neck. Her eyes suddenly glazed over as her gaze turned inward. Suddenly, clarity returned. Her hand shot out and snatched at Rommie's thin sleeve. "We have to go. We really have to go. It isn't safe out here for us. When does the gate close?"
Rommie frowned, puzzled by her abrupt change in attitude. "Twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds."
Trance dug her fingernails into the avatar's arm as the shriek jolted them again. She had the overwhelming feeling that a banshee was about to pounce on them from out of the dark. She tugged at the smaller woman's arm. "We can do it," she shouted, hair tousled wildly by the wind, rain pounding her face.
Rommie took her hand, clutching all of their bags in one hand and pulled her in the direction of the gate, ignoring the slippery pavement, the slashing rain and the howl that defied logic, seeming to gain on them as they sprinted up the slope to the distant gate.
They reached it as the gate guard started to pull it closed. Trance doubled over in pain, wheezing for breath with tears mixing with the cold rain on her numb cheeks. The man took a long look at their faces and swung the gate wide, letting them pass. He chuckled under his breath as he locked the gate behind them and scurried into the darkness on his way home.
They fell into each other's arms inside the spaceport, brightly lit at all hours. The brilliant white light seemed to hold back the howl, corralling it and the storm. Cold, exhausted and shivering, they quickly made their way back to the safety of the Eureka Maru.
TBC
Anna
Chapter 8
Beka rested her cheek against the soft leather of Connor's jacket. The comforting scents of worn leather, spicy cologne and shampoo mingled with the faint aroma of manly sweat. She shivered, closing her eyes. It was a perfect smell. Simultaneously it drove her wild and relaxed her, made her feel safe. He spun her slowly, guiding the dance. This was one night that she didn't demand to take the lead. Instinctively, she felt that this man was strong enough for both of them. She wouldn't let her guard down, but she would sit back and enjoy the ride.
He spun her again and she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she stiffened, lifting her head from his shoulder. Across the room at the bar, Dylan sat chatting up a young woman. Of course, she was very beautiful. The beautiful flocked to him like bees to flowers. Beyond him, Tyr leaned forward and kissed a tall, striking woman. Beka frowned; feeling slightly betrayed. She wasn't good enough for Tyr, the model of all Nietzscheans, but he'd satisfy his desires with a stranger? It made no sense. She rested her chin back on Connor's shoulder, squeezing her lips shut tightly. She tried to ignore the sight of the two men so vital to her life moving away from her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head and nestled into the hollow of Connor's neck and shoulder. He was taller than she was so it was a natural position.
Screw them, she thought. They stared at her when they thought she wasn't looking. They danced around innuendo with her. Crap, she stared too. They were beautiful figures of men and she shouldn't have to stave off the flow of attraction for either of them. How dare they find willing women so easily and never even consider asking her?
She gritted her teeth, her anger building. Connor pushed her back slightly, bending to peer into her face with eyebrows raised in question. Tiny gold sparkles swirled in his hazel eyes, now a muddled brown-gold. She stared up into those eyes and suddenly leaned forward, taking his lips into hers. He kissed her back without hesitation. She felt the fire deep inside him. His kiss was tender and passionate, reserved and wild. When she pulled away, she was breathless. With one hand she reached up and stroked the faint trace of whiskers on his cheek and chin.
Screw Dylan. Screw Tyr.
Connor pulled her closer to him, molding her body to his.
"Let's go," she whispered into his ear.
He met her gaze to be certain. Then he smiled and led her from the smoky room.
~~
Tyr glanced up in time to see Beka slip out the door, arms wrapped around a tall dark-haired man. Regret and longing seized his stomach. Seeing her leave with another man and knowing deep inside where they were going angered him. His fingers clenched around the wrist of the woman, Melina, with whom he sat. She yelped in pain and yanked her hand away. Startled, he looked away from the door, released her and apologized. When he returned his gaze to the door, Beka and her date were gone.
He breathed deeply to soothe his anger, trying to examine his feelings. Why should he rationalize his need for physical comfort? Why should a human woman toss his emotions into this hurricane? As the deep breaths slowly calmed him, he knew why and he knew that he was in denial. It was safer that way. He could shout to the world that he was attracted to Beka, an inferior...a human. Or, he could save face and play the Nietzschean Alpha Male to the hilt. Admitting any amount of attraction for her could jeopardize the future he had planned for himself in the grand scheme of Nietzschean evolution. Certainly, many Nietzschean males allowed themselves to assuage their physical needs with a lesser woman...provided they took measures to ensure there would be no procreation. Beka Valentine would not stand for such a relationship. He knew that. He refused to even ask her. And, he refused to throw away his future for an inferior. So be it. He could live with that. Yes. He could. Couldn't he?
With a sexy grin, he turned back to Melina, massaging her barely injured wrist and nuzzling the nape of her long neck.
~~
Trance stopped to rub her calves. She hopped on one foot for a moment, while rubbing the other.
"Is there a problem?" Rommie asked, concern on her amazingly life- like face. The wet wind lifted her short dark hair up like giant fingers, and then dropped it into her face. She shook it aside in a gesture quite human.
The purple girl grimaced and blew a raindrop from the tip of her nose. "I didn't realize it was so far. Walking uphill makes my legs hurt."
Rommie squinted at the fluorescent white lights shining like beacons into the increasing dark and stormy night. "We have 2.54 miles to go and only..." she paused and did a mental calculation, "37 minutes to get there. That's plenty of time at our previous pace, however, if you're having problems we may not make it."
Trance gave her an exasperated look. "We'll make it. We'll make it, even though I'll probably have pneumonia and be lame for life."
"We only have to pass through the gate."
"I know. I-" Her words were cut off by the rumbling of a large horse drawn cart rushing by down the cobblestone street. The loud racket of horse hooves and metal wheels on wet stone drowned out all other sounds. "Wow, horses? I thought they had air cars."
Rommie stared after the carriage, pondering the implications. "Deso Ambulance Service," she said. "The carriage was an ambulance." She frowned, listening intently. About a half-mile up the hill, she saw a small crowd gathered. Men in simple green uniforms, like that of the gate guard, typed on small data pads. She could see flashes of ambient light from their accouterments. She decided they were rank insignia. Local police, she surmised. She wanted to switch paths, avoid the local authorities altogether. But this was the most direct route to the spaceport. There wasn't time to try another path. "Trance, this doesn't look like a very good part of town."
"It doesn't?"
The avatar met her companion's wide, frightened gaze. Despite her obvious superiority, Trance could be extremely child-like. Rommie decided not to tell her what she had seen. "We should go. We're running out of time."
The girl nodded quickly. They strode up the hill at an increased pace with Trance limping slightly.
By the time they reached the area where Rommie had seen the police, the street was deserted. The rain increased its tempo whipped into an intermittent fevered dance by gusts of strong wind. Soaked and miserable, Trance pulled her into the shelter of a storefront.
"Give me the bag," Trance said.
"What?" Rommie shouted over the whistle of the wind.
"The blue one. The blue bag has a jacket in it. I need it now. I'm freezing to death!"
Rommie fished into the blue bag and handed Trance a black jacket lined with fur from a local animal and rimmed with gold and white feathers. Trance slipped into it quickly. While she fastened it, the avatar surveyed the area, searching for signs of whatever the police and ambulance had been doing. She could see the faint signs of a struggle; a tiny piece of torn fabric, a faint trace of blood in the street.
Beside her, Trance bent down then straightened. "Rommie," she said her voice wavering.
Rommie turned. Trance held out something shiny in the palm of her hand. She met the avatar's gaze fearfully, tears glistening in her huge dark eyes.
The avatar reached out and took the small medallion and its broken chain. There was no doubt. On the back it said, 'Seamus Harper.' And trapped in the etched letters were traces of crusted blood.
Trance whimpered, tears falling to mingle with the cold rain on her cheeks.
Rommie shook her head sadly, putting an arm around the girl to comfort her. "We don't have time to look. The gate is closing and there's no place for us to stay. It isn't safe. We'll find him tomorrow."
Trance jerked away from her. "No. You go back if you want to, Rommie. I'm staying!"
"Trance," Rommie's tone held sympathy and admonishment.
The purple girl gave her a desperate look. "I wouldn't want you guys to leave me out here," she said softly.
The avatar sighed. "We'll stay then."
Suddenly, an inhuman shriek pierced the rainy night. Both women froze. The tiny hairs on Trance's arm stood and quivered in terror. "What was that?" she gasped as her racing heart clawed at her chest.
The shriek abruptly came again, echoing, carried on the wind. Lights in the shops around them snapped off, leaving the street illuminated only by the dim streetlamps, swaying in the wind.
Rommie shook her head, surveying the splattering rain and gloomy shadows. Leaves and papers swept by on the rising wind. "It's not close. It's coming down from the mountains."
The shriek sliced through the comforting patter of the raindrops on cobblestones. Instead of dying quickly, it settled into a low howl, like the moan of the dead. Trance swallowed hard. "The mountains? But they're so far away and that definitely sounds close by."
The avatar took her hand. "If we're going to look for Harper, we need to start now."
Trance met her eyes in the gloom. "It's so dark," she shouted over the howl.
"The shopkeepers have all gone."
"Everything is closed? Who'll tell us where places are? Oh, Rommie, this doesn't look good. Not good at all."
"It's only the wind, Trance."
The girl looked worried and terrified.
The moan slowly trailed off, leaving the scratching sound of leaves on stone and the slashing rain on the window glass of the dead shops. Trance clutched her jacket tightly around her neck. Her eyes suddenly glazed over as her gaze turned inward. Suddenly, clarity returned. Her hand shot out and snatched at Rommie's thin sleeve. "We have to go. We really have to go. It isn't safe out here for us. When does the gate close?"
Rommie frowned, puzzled by her abrupt change in attitude. "Twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds."
Trance dug her fingernails into the avatar's arm as the shriek jolted them again. She had the overwhelming feeling that a banshee was about to pounce on them from out of the dark. She tugged at the smaller woman's arm. "We can do it," she shouted, hair tousled wildly by the wind, rain pounding her face.
Rommie took her hand, clutching all of their bags in one hand and pulled her in the direction of the gate, ignoring the slippery pavement, the slashing rain and the howl that defied logic, seeming to gain on them as they sprinted up the slope to the distant gate.
They reached it as the gate guard started to pull it closed. Trance doubled over in pain, wheezing for breath with tears mixing with the cold rain on her numb cheeks. The man took a long look at their faces and swung the gate wide, letting them pass. He chuckled under his breath as he locked the gate behind them and scurried into the darkness on his way home.
They fell into each other's arms inside the spaceport, brightly lit at all hours. The brilliant white light seemed to hold back the howl, corralling it and the storm. Cold, exhausted and shivering, they quickly made their way back to the safety of the Eureka Maru.
TBC