LC01 Sweet Starfire
Page 20
“Severance, you can’t leave me!”
There was a scrambling sound behind him. Severance heard it and knew instinctively, that Racer wouldn’t risk tackling him, which left only one other explanation for the frantic, scuffling movements. Racer was going to the weapon he had dropped when the flower had caught him. Severance swung around and fired just as Racer, kneeling, raised the pulser he had found. He gave only one short, chopped-off cry. The familiar, horribly abrupt scream of one more Renaissance victim.
Severance lowered the pulser. Too easy. Jeude’s killer should have died more slowly. He had wanted Renaissance to execute the sentence in its own inevitable, fearsome manner. The fact that neither Jeude nor Cidra would have wanted that kind of end for Racer was immaterial. They had nothing to say about it. Severance was the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
The rain broke out in a torrent. Severance holstered the pulser and raced for the skimmer. Water would be filling the engine housing already. Racer had left the panel open when he had been surprised. Renaissance was so good at destroying equipment.
The rain caught Cidra by surprise. She had watched the clouds build up all afternoon, but the sudden, drenching downpour had begun without any warning drops. The skies of Renaissance simply opened. She dashed for the tent and was thankful to find it dry inside. Huddled on a sleeper, she went back to doing what she had been doing since Severance had left: she waited and thought.
A great deal went through her mind as she sat in a position of meditation. Thoughts of Clementia’s tranquil gardens, memories of the games of Free Market she had played with Severance, and a desperate curiosity to know what was happening between Severance and Racer all crowded her head. The one thing she didn’t allow herself to think about was the amount of time left on the deflector screens. She had checked the controls before escaping into the tent, and she knew the charge was already beginning to weaken.
The rain was a steady roar on the curved shell of the tent. At least the drumming was a change from listening to the screams, clickings and occasional thrashing noises that were a part of normal jungle life. Cidra tried meditating and found it impossible to concentrate. She consoled herself with the thought that even a true Harmonic would have had trouble meditating under such circumstances.
That thought only led her to the next, inevitable bit of logic. She was farther than ever now from being a true Harmonic. Everything from her interest in gambling to her growing hunger for Severance’s brief, possessive kisses was ample evidence that she had too much Wolf in her. She had to face the possibility that even if she found the relic for which she searched, she might never be entirely free of her Wolf heritage.
And if Severance did not succeed in finding Racer, neither of them would be free of this damned jungle. Surprisingly she wasn’t as worried about that as she ought to have been. She discovered that she had a great deal of faith in Teague Severance’s abilities. She also knew that when he found Racer and secured the skimmer, he would be back for her. She knew it with the same certainty as she knew the deflectors were going to fail by nightfall.
Cidra was not at all so sure of what would happen to Racer when Severance found him. Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to think about it. What would it do to Severance if he killed a man? Perhaps he had killed in the past. She had no way of knowing. She had seen so much violence already during her short visit to Renaissance. The planet seemed to inspire it. Only a true Wolf could survive here. Cidra didn’t want to imagine what would happen if a group of Harmonics was abandoned on Renaissance.
The steady roar of the rain became hypnotic. Gradually Cidra stopped thinking about what might be happening to Severance. She sat quietly and just listened to the rain, which sounded as if it would come down forever. On and on it poured, the sound driving out all other thought. Cidra drifted in her mind, staring at the curving wall of the tent.
The first, gentle call passed by her almost unnoticed. Cidra became vaguely aware of a feeling of curiosity. For some reason she was suddenly interested in exploring the world outside the tent. She shook off the odd thought. It was utterly impossible. There was no point in getting soaking wet again today. Drying off after the swim in the river had taken long enough. She dismissed the strange curiosity and went back to drifting in her mind. The rain continued to beat down on the metal tent. Outside, the charge on the deflector control panels went down two more levels.
Another soft tendril of thought curled in her head, beckoning pleasantly. Not all of Renaissance was violence and death. This was a beautiful world that had once been under control.
Cidra lifted her chin from where it had been resting on her folded arms and stared, puzzled, at the tent wall. Under control? She wondered where that thought had sprung from. She shifted position, wishing there was something constructive she could do. This business of waiting, knowing nothing of what was happening to Severance, seemed to be affecting her brain. She wondered if he could even move in the skimmer in this rain.
There seemed to be a slight altering in the steady beat of the water. Cidra waited until she was reasonably sure of the change in intensity and then unsealed the iris opening. It did appear that the rain was lessening. The knowledge brought a measure of relief. One less obstacle for Severance to surmount.
The rain passed slowly but surely, leaving in its wake a jungle smelling fresher than usual. Cidra was surprised at the almost pleasant fragrance. Also, the squeaks and screams seemed to have faded as everything took shelter. There were a few calls from the creatures living high in the trees but no close screams. Cidra unsealed the iris closure completely and stepped outside.
The ground was muddy, but in general, the water had drained off quickly into the river. Overhead, the clouds were already breaking up. Unfortunately the sunlight was not returning with reassuring warmth. Stanza Nine was already sinking slowly over the green horizon. Cidra listened to the occasional hiss of the deflectors and shivered. She didn’t want to examine the control panel again.
She was standing near the edge of the bank, staring out over the river when she caught sight of the skimmer. Incredible relief swept through her, even as she realized that there was no accompanying hum of the craft’s engine.
“Severance!” Belatedly she realized that he was poling the floating skimmer, using a long, thick limb to keep the craft away from the bank. In complete silence the skimmer glided toward her. Cidra saw that two of the cabin walls were shattered. Frantically she scanned Severance’s body as he jumped into the shallows and pulled the craft into shore. Diazite tinkled on the deck of the boat. Cidra knew what it must have taken to shatter the tough material.
“It’s all right, Cidra. I’ve got the screens.” Wearily he made fast the boat and turned to face her.
Cidra took one look at him and knew what had happened to Racer. “Oh, Severance.” She ran forward, throwing her arms around him. He was hot and sweaty, and there was a feeling emanating from him that she could only describe as hard and bleak. It made her want to cry. Instead she hugged him even more fiercely. “I’ve been so frightened for you.”
His arms went around her. “It’s all right. It’s over.”
She didn’t ask about Racer. Instead she helped him finish securing the boat, and then she carried the screens ashore as he handed them to her from the cargo hold. The deflectors were the first concern. The old ones were stored in the skimmer as the new ones took over.
“There’s not enough power left in the fuel cells to get the skimmer off the water, but there is enough to keep the deflectors charged. I’ve stopped the fuel leak. Be careful of the diazite,” Severance added as Cidra stepped into the craft.
“I wanted to see if there are any prespacs on board.” She walked carefully forward and opened the galley bin. There were several prespacs containing meat and two containing vegetables. Gratefully she pulled out two packages—one for her and one for Severance—and shoved them into the tiny skimmer heater. Food was what Severance needed.
When she broug
ht his heated prespac into the tent, she found him sitting on a sleeper. He looked up without much interest as she handed him the food.
“Thanks.”
Cidra reached down and found the container of Renaissance Rose ale she had rescued and held it out to him with a tentative smile. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, and then his hand wrapped around it. Without a word he downed a good portion of the brew.
“You know how to welcome a man home,” he said. Then he slipped back into his bleak silence.
They ate without talking for several minutes. Cidra was aching to ask questions but afraid to interrupt whatever thoughts were going through Severance’s head. He seemed very remote this evening. More distant than she had ever seen him. When he finally spoke, it was to give her a few facts.
“The communication equipment has to have a chance to dry out completely. It’s housed in the engine compartment, and that got flooded. We won’t be able to make any calls until morning.” He went back to chewing methodically.
Cidra hesitated and then asked, “What if the comm equipment doesn’t work when it’s dried out?”
“The worst possible case is that we have to pole the skimmer down the river the way I did this afternoon. It’s slow going and there are some risks, but it works. We’ll do it that way if necessary.” Severance lapsed back into silence.
Cidra could think of nothing to say, no way to break through the barrier that existed between them. In silence they prepared for bed, crawling into separate sleepers. For a long time Cidra lay awake, aware that Severance was staring into the darkness.
“Severance?”
“What is it, Cidra?”
“You had to kill him, didn’t you?”
“I killed him.” The words were flat, final.
Cidra lay in silence, wondering what to say next. Severance needed comfort, and she knew he would never ask for it. She wasn’t even sure how to go about offering it to him. But then she felt that trying was pointless. He would reject it.
But after another long silence Cidra shifted in the darkness. She unfastened her sleeper. And then she reached out to unfasten Severance’s sleeper.
“Are you scared again tonight, Cidra?” He didn’t move as she slipped in beside him. She could feel the tight tension in him.
“Yes,” she whispered. But not of the jungle outside, she added silently. She was frightened by the remoteness in him, terrified by the memories he must be rerunning in his head. He cradled her against him, and she felt the taut muscles in his arm. He hadn’t even begun to relax, but she knew he must be thoroughly exhausted.
“Go to sleep, Cidra.”
“I won’t be able to sleep until you do.”
He turned his head to look down at her as she lay in the circle of his arm. “Then you’re going to be awake a long time.”
“I know” She put her palm on his bare chest.
“Cidra, I think you’d better go back to your own sleeper. I’m not feeling normal. I’m not feeling in control.”
“It’s all right, Severance.” She nestled closer.
“I want you.”
“I know.”
“You don’t understand,” he said roughly.
“I understand.” She waited.
Severance shuddered, then turned suddenly and pinned her beneath him. His mouth came down on hers with the urgency of a man who is running toward the promise of safety in a wild and uncontrolled land.
TWELVE
Cidra was startled by the sudden intensity of hunger she felt in him. Severance overwhelmed her. She had thought him exhausted, in need of comfort and human warmth; she had wanted to offer him gentleness and relaxation. But he was gathering her to him as if what she had to offer was life itself. As though he would feed on her in some manner.
“Sweet Harmony in hell, Cidra. I need you.”
His urgent mouth tasted her, following the line of her jaw to the curve of her throat. She flinched in surprise when she felt the edge of his teeth and then shuddered from the excitement of the sensation. Her gilded fingertips sank into his sleek shoulders, and she turned her head into his throat. He groaned when she touched him first with her lips and then tried out her own sharp little teeth. The shudder that sent through him was reward enough to tempt her further. Cidra’s arms slipped higher, curving around his neck.
“Yes. Tighter. Hold me as tight as you can, Cidra.”
She obeyed, her uncertainty fading as a new wave of feeling took its place. His mouth locked on hers, in an intimate contact that enthralled her. She parted her lips at his urging, allowing him inside. Severance didn’t hesitate. In his hunger he would take everything she gave. His tongue tangled with hers. Cidra moaned softly as the wealth of sensation poured through her. She closed her eyes and let herself edge closer to a whirlwind she could not yet name.
Severance’s hand had been cupping her face, holding her still for his heavy kisses. Now his palms slipped down, seeking the fastening of the shirt Cidra wore. He raised himself a little bit away from her, and she shivered when his fingers parted the material. Then he pushed aside the fabric and lowered himself back down on top of her. Cidra’s soft breasts were gently crushed beneath the unyielding hardness of his chest. It was a strangely satisfying kind of pressure, and she instinctively moved beneath him.
“Cidra, my sweet, strong Cidra. You’re so soft.” The words were a dark murmur against her skin as Severance shifted his weight.
Cidra felt his hands gliding over her shoulders and down to her breasts. When his fingers found one budding nipple and began to stroke it, she whispered his name far back in her throat.
The small cry seemed to please him. It also fed the physical urgency in Severance. He lowered his head, taking the taut nipple between his teeth. Cidra shivered as excitement unfurled deep in her body. Her leg moved languidly, sliding over his. The fabric of their trousers was an unnatural barrier, one she no longer wanted.
Severance took instant advantage of her small, unconsciously enticing movement. He pushed his leg between hers, letting her feel for the first time the waiting heat in his lower body. Even through the clothing Cidra was made fully aware of the straining male power in him. She wanted time to grow accustomed to the physical changes going on in herself as well as in him. But Severance seemed driven now. He went to work on the unfastening of her trousers.
“Lift up, Cidra. Hurry, sweetheart. I can’t wait much longer for you.” His hand was under her buttocks, raising her slightly so that he could force the pants down her legs.
His hand followed the clothing as she pushed aside the trousers. She felt his fingers curling into her hips, her thigh, and her calf. Then the trousers were gone and she lay nude beneath him. Her lashes lifted, and she found herself looking deeply into his shadowed gaze.
There was a drawn harshness in his face that brought back some of her earlier uncertainty. This wasn’t how she expected a Wolf to look when he made love. She had always imagined that there would be more gentleness, a kind of lingering tenderness.
She felt very vulnerable. At the same time there was a heated excitement flowing through her that even the uncertainty couldn’t quell. This was Severance. Everything was all right with him. Tentatively Cidra drew her palms down his back, feeling the strong, muscled contours.
His hand flattened on her stomach, and he stroked her as he whispered rough words of desire against her throat. She responded to the words as much as to the touch, trembling a little as his hand moved lower. When his fingers tangled in the dark nest of hair about her thighs, she gasped.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s all right. It’s going to be so good. I swear, it’s going to be good. I need you so much. Let me touch you. Just relax and let me touch you.”
Under the soothing onslaught of his words she parted her legs, allowing him an intimacy that left her feeling dazed. His hand slid lower, fingertips drawing strange, curling patterns over a part of her that had become unbearably sensitized.
“Severance?”
She laced her fingers into the depths of his hair. “I want you, too, Severance.” The whispered confession startled her. But as soon as the words were out, she realized that they were nothing less than the truth. All thought of dispensing comfort or human warmth had vanished. She ached for something else now. There was a growing need to have him closer. His hand moved again between her thighs, and this time she knew she wanted more. She lifted herself, pleading silently for even more intimacy.
He pulled away from her with a muffled groan, fumbling with the trousers he still wore. In the shadows she saw the strong shape of his thighs, the flat planes of his hips and stomach. There was an alluring strength in him that made the blood sing in her veins. Cidra felt at once light-headed and heavy. Then Severance came back down beside her, gathering her close again, she was aware of the strong, hard thrust of his manhood pressing against her.
“Open yourself for me, my love.” His hand was on her inner thigh, gently but firmly pushing apart her legs. She clung to him as he slid into the warm place he had made for himself.
“Severance, it feels good. So strange, but good.”
“I know. Sweet Harmony in hell, I know.”
She felt him move closer, felt the blunt probing shaft at the gate of her femininity. He was moistening himself with the dampness he had brought forth there. She moved, savoring the promise of even more intense sensations.
“Now, Severance?”
“It has to be now. I’ll go crazy if I wait any longer. Look at me, Cidra.” She opened her eyes and saw the barely controlled desire in his narrowed gaze. “I want to see your eyes when I take you. I want to see if you really understand this.”