Shalia's Diary Book 12

by Tracy St. John

  Larten tensed and released. His groans joined my high-pitched whimpers, the only sound I was capable of making in my winded state. I felt gutted, even with lessening spasms running through my shuddering frame. Prophets galore, that had been intense. I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for an eternity.

  My legs were wobbly as we headed back to the party. I had to hang onto Larten for support, I was so weak-kneed. And covered with sand. When Seot and Cifa caught sight of us, staggering and covered in powdery pink sand, they couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be miffed that they’d not been invited along.

  Yeah, as if I could have handled two more after Larten rode me like a bronco buster. Whew! What a wild party that was.

  March 21

  It’s got to be Nang. He must be here, watching me. Stalking me.

  The nightmare began this morning. Of course, I was happy as I could be when the day started. I’d beaten Cifa to the baby for a change, enjoying the rare privilege of getting her ready. She burbled, “Mom-mom-mom,” at me, which made me happier. Hearing her talk to me never grows old.

  We’d all slept in after last night’s party. I’m pretty sure Elwa had kept Anrel up late, playing with her and enjoying time with her granddaughter. At any rate, the baby had slept well after daybreak, waking after all the rest of us. Nobody was working today, so it was a good morning to be lazy.

  However, I’d tucked my com into my pocket out of habit, as I do most workdays. I’d put Anrel on my hip, turning to the door to carry her to breakfast, when it vibrated against my thigh, alerting me that a message had been left.

  Cooing and smiling at my sweetheart, I fished the com out of my pocket. I didn’t check for the frequency before I said, “Check message.”

  I looked at the readout, and all my happy went away. Life isn’t always sex on the beach. They’ll never make you happy. Only I can. We’ll be together soon.

  My heart boomed so loud, I believed someone was stomping down the hall. I couldn’t feel my legs, and the one rational idea I had was, don’t you dare fall and drop the baby. I tightened my grip on Anrel as I stared at my com.

  I read the message again. And again. The words stayed the same, refusing to change. And the first sentence loomed the largest.

  Life isn’t always sex on the beach.

  Nang had been there, watching me and Larten. Spying on our intimate moments, his prying eyes on us as we made love. He’d been right there.

  Somehow, I moved my rubbery legs. Clutching my chattering baby close, my com in a death grip, those awful sentences burned on my retinas, I staggered down the hall to the kitchen where my clan assembled breakfast.

  “My Nobek.” My voice sounded ridiculously normal to me, too typical given the circumstances. Larten’s honed instincts must have heard something off, however. He turned to me, his gaze intent and nostrils flaring as if to catch a scent.

  “What is it?” He was in front of me, taking the com from my hand and reading the message before I could utter a word.

  “It’s him. It must be Nang,” I said, my voice still weirdly regular, at least as far as I could tell.

  Seot and Cifa rushed over to read the message too. My Imdiko cursed and pulled me close, sandwiching Anrel between us, as if to protect her.

  “I’m checking the trace,” Larten said as Seot scowled and pulled out his own com and told it to connect with Officer Breft’s frequency.

  By the time Breft and Raxstad arrived, Larten had discovered a few interesting and terrifying things. First of all, the message had been recorded the night before, but sent this morning on a delay. Second of all, it had been sent from the very beach where the business party had been held, while it was being held.

  Everything was reported to the Global Security officers that I have had too much contact with. Breft asked me, “There is no one else who might be doing this, at least not that you can think of? It’s not that I doubt your opinion. I just want to make sure we’re not narrowing the field prematurely.”

  “Not at all. Especially not someone who would tell me we were meant to be together.” The hair on my neck rose saying that.

  Breft rubbed his forehead. “I agree. The reports I read as to Dramok Nang’s state of mind before he disappeared from Earth shows intent and an unbalanced mind. Okay, I’ll continue to try and find evidence that he’s gotten to Kalquor—but I’m going to operate on the premise that he is here and stalking you.” He glanced at Raxstad.

  The musclebound behemoth nodded. “All law enforcement in the area will be alerted to look out for him. Local, territorial, ours—everyone. He’ll be found and arrested on sight.”

  I almost told Nobek Raxstad that everyone kept saying that, and with the same conviction. Yet Nang hadn’t been caught on his way here. He’d made it to Kalquor. He had gotten in close enough to see me and Larten frolicking in the dunes.

  If he got that close to me, how easily could he get to Anrel? Even with security and guards everywhere, trying to keep her safe?

  I was scared. Yet I was also abruptly pissed off. I’d endured Anrel being snatched, though by someone who had regretted her actions and tried to make things right. I had no illusions Nang would experience any stab of conscience over devastating me in such a way. He had left his clan. He had dodged capture to make it to Kalquor. He meant to have ‘his’ family. Such an intense fixation could turn ugly. Deadly.

  I didn’t want Nang hurt. I really didn’t. However, if it came down between him and Anrel, he would lose every fucking time.

  I asked Breft, “How overt does the threat from Nang have to be for me to kill him through self-defense? Or to keep my child safe? What will land me in jail?”

  The Nobek’s eyebrow lifted as he regarded me. “Could you do such a thing?”

  “For my daughter? Without hesitation.”

  “She’s trained for hand-to-hand, blades, and firearms,” Larten said, his voice filled with pride. “Not that I expect her to have to do so herself with me close by.”

  “She’s killed dozens of Tragooms,” Seot added. “If worst came to worst, Shalia could hand this Nang his—”

  “Baby,” Cifa warned, putting his palms over Anrel’s ears.

  “Back end,” Seot finished.

  Breft and Raxstad exchanged grins. Breft told me, “Matara, if Dramok Nang does nothing more than wave hello to you, you are welcome to blast his head off. Threat has been established. Feel free to defend yourself at the mere sight of him.”

  Dear prophets, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But my priorities remain unchanged since I went to Oses to ask for training on the Pussy ‘Porter. Whatever it takes, I will defend my child.

  Last came the usual suggestions. Breft and Raxstad delivered them with more insistence: Anrel and I must never be left alone. Report anything suspicious immediately. And Breft was doubling the security flybys over our home.

  It should be enough. With my luck and Nang possibly slipping onto the planet under everyone’s noses, I fear it’s not.

  March 22

  Nothing has happened. It’s like I’m living under a state of siege, though. With me sure that Nang is lurking, waiting to grab me and Anrel, it feels as if the world could come crashing down at any moment.

  Anrel and I didn’t ride into Cifiler with my Imdiko today. I didn’t pilot my own shuttle either. Instead, Larten flew us. He went as far as to escort me to my office. Along the way, we stopped at Cifiler Cruises headquarters’ security office to discuss the measures in place. The head of security assured us he would keep anything that looked remotely Nang-y from entering the cliff quarters.

  Cifa ordered a vid monitor to be installed in the corridor outside my, Cifa, and Candy’s departments—all the places where not only do I frequent, but Anrel does as well. Security officers will perform once-an-hour patrols to put actual eyes on us too. The whole staff has been briefed and readied to call for help should my stalker be so bold as to show up. Nobody is taking any chances.

  Anrel and I could have stayed home under wa
tch. Seot talked about hiring personal bodyguards. After mulling it over, I don’t believe I’m placing Anrel under any undue danger by us continuing our schedules as much as safety allows. We’re as shielded as we can be already. Larten agrees with me, bless the man. Home and work are crawling with security personnel. Everyone is on alert. Honestly, what more can we do, besides sneak off the damned planet?

  It makes my blood boil sometimes when I think about it. I’ve survived a lot of shit to end up glancing over my shoulder on Kalquor. I shouldn’t have to live this way, in fear of a man who I once trusted to keep me safe. And I won’t, so long as I can guarantee Anrel will be okay. I will live my life. I will go to work. I will run my foundation. I will enjoy my clan. I deserve all of that. Nang will not take it from me, not through cryptic messages. He will not reduce me to a victim who’s afraid to walk out of her own door.

  I’m scheduled for daily training with Larten. Last night we practiced my fighting techniques until we were both soaked with sweat and shaking from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand, blade, and blaster—everything. We’re intent as if readying for an actual war. I’m glad my Nobek is taking this as seriously as I am. I’m glad he’s like Oses in that he doesn’t feel insulted that I want to be prepared for the worst. I adore him for not letting his warrior-protector ego jump in.

  Fortunately, work and the foundation are busy enough to divert me; another reason to continue living my life. The fall season is busy for cruises, with the summer heat easing off and making excursions more comfortable. It’s also busy for marketing, because with the autumn promos being done, we have to gear up for the bigger winter season. That’s when those in the upper latitudes are hoping to escape the cold on a tropical getaway. I have a lot of tasks to finish.

  The foundation is busy, busy, busy too. Donations and Kalquorian moms-to-be are pouring in. The first wave of the Empire’s hybrid daughters born of Kalquorian women is a done deal, with implantations happening daily now.

  I’m grateful, not just for the success, but also for the distractions. Yes, I made the right decision to maintain my regular life despite the security concerns. I’d be going crazy and jumping at the slightest strange sound otherwise.

  March 24

  Nothing new happening as far as my stalker is concerned. Despite wanting to remain on alert, I found myself relaxing from time to time today, thinking maybe it’s a bad dream I had, one I’ll wake up from. I know better, of course. Nang is out there. He’s keeping an eye on things, waiting for the right moment.

  It’s hard to remain vigilant, however. I’m worn out from it on a mental and emotional level. Besides, when I’m at Cifiler, I’m surrounded by my staff. A security officer pokes his head in my office on a regular basis. Shouldn’t I be able to relax for a few minutes here and there?

  I found myself doing that when Hina dropped by this afternoon. I’m delighted to say all is well on the baby front. All tests show normal development of the embryo she carries. Our cautious happiness wants to bloom into outright triumph. We don’t dare. Not yet. But I can feel it there, ready to explode, trembling at the threshold of hope.

  Hina will get a daughter she can love, a little girl she can raise, whose accomplishments will fill her with pride. It has to happen. Has to.

  That certainty was there in the background during her whole visit as we sat at my conversation area. We relaxed in a comfy corner of my office with plush seating cushions, a table, and a cooling unit full of refreshments. She’d brought some sweetcakes for us to shovel in our greedy faces.

  “Kalquorian women don’t get morning sickness?” I asked, impressed that she ate enough for two this early on. Then again, Hina is as tall and muscled as many of the men on this planet.

  “I expect it in a couple more weeks,” she sighed. “That’s about the period when it happened before. In my case, it’s more like all-day sickness. I won’t want to eat for three months.”

  “We’ll have to go out for a big, super-special meal soon then, to fortify you for the bad stretch.”

  “Oh yes, let’s do that. One that consists of nothing but desserts.”

  It sounds as if someone has a jumpstart on her cravings.

  As we visited, discussing everything babies, I found myself wondering if I was pregnant yet. I could check with no problem, but I don’t want to jinx things. Besides, I’ll be crushed if I discover I’m not. I’ve come down with full-on baby fever.

  That had me wanting to further stack the odds in my favor that a baby could happen in the near future. Luckily for me, Cifa poked his head in the door about an hour after Hina left. I was staring at the promotions schedule and noticing how busy I would be for the next few weeks. Today looked like my last easy workday for a while, and that was uppermost in my mind besides the baby-making agenda.

  “Candy’s got Anrel for the rest of the afternoon’s training. I have to go out to the docks to meet with the builders. Do you need anything while I’m out and about?”

  My first reaction was disappointment that he was too busy to indulge in workplace shenanigans. Then I thought maybe someone else could.

  “Could you drop me off at Seot’s office? I’m about to go nose-to-the-grindstone here for a while, so maybe I can head off his complaints if he enjoys some extra attention beforehand.”

  Cifa grinned. “You are learning how to handle your Dramok quite well, my Matara.”

  “I’ve always been a quick study. Anrel’s got plenty of watchers?”

  “Two security guards are in the room with her and Candy.”

  “Not content with them just peeking in every so often?”

  “I didn’t order it; Candy did. No one is snatching our child without getting through her. Somehow, I feel better about Candy protecting Anrel than all the bodyguards here at headquarters.”

  I had to agree. Candy has kept up on her training, and she’s hyper-vigilant about it after the first kidnapping. If Nang dared to try to take Anrel from her, Candy would kick his ass. I have no doubts about that.

  Cifa dropped me off at Seot’s company, Tesen Eknat, which in English loosely translates into ‘Preparedness and Defense’. As soon as I stepped off my Imdiko’s shuttle, the security guards there commed for an escort to accompany me to my clanmate’s office. Normally, I’d protest such strong measures within the actual company—but these are not normal times. I apologized for being an inconvenience. Everyone is super friendly at Tesen Eknat, including the Nobeks. I’d swear a kind personality is a requirement for anyone to work at the headquarters. It’s a funny trait when you realize Seot’s company manufactures arms and defensive weaponry, along with helpful gadgets such as the tracking devices implanted on Anrel and me.

  All that to say the Nobeks in security practically fell over themselves to reassure me that my visit wasn’t an inconvenience to them at all. It’s rather humbling when they behave as if guaranteeing my safety is a privilege. Seriously—wow. I need to do something special for those guys. I should bake them cookies and shit.

  It was still embarrassing to walk down the company corridors with a security detail surrounding me. It grew worse as a few of Seot’s employees called out, “Keep her safe, men!” Ugh. I was in no danger in Tesen Eknat’s headquarters.

  I was more than relieved to arrive at Imdiko Najo’s desk. He greeted me with his usual effusive delight at my presence. “Good afternoon, Matara Shalia! What a terrific surprise. We were afraid we wouldn’t see much of you given the circumstances. Go right in.”

  My four bodyguards took up position, two flanking the entrance to Najo’s area, and rest flanking the door to Seot’s office. I swear, Empress Jessica probably doesn’t enjoy this level of protection.

  Seot was already at his door, his arms held out to me. “My Matara! How did I get so lucky to have you here in the middle of the day?”

  “Ha! I’m the lucky one. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Nothing that won’t wait a million years if that’s what you need.”

  We are so sentimental and goo
fy. I hope it’s not because we’re in the honeymoon period of our clanship. I want to be as disgustingly sappy fifty years down the road.

  The door closed behind us, leaving us alone. Seot held me close, smiling at me. “What has given me the joy of having you come here today?”

  I snuggled in his arms, my cheek against his wide chest. “Making up for my schedule in the weeks ahead when I’ll be little more than a distant memory.”

  “Extra hours again?” Aw, he sounded disappointed. I’m wanted. “I should have realized that was going to happen when Cifa started worrying about the new ships and gearing up for the winter season’s promotional drive. Are you sure you don’t want to be a kept woman? Pampered at home all day, ready to dote on me when I come home at night?”