by Jory Strong
Jeqon laughed, his eyes dancing. The Baraqijal are more serious than most of the Amato. I cannot imagine Draigon was amused by the threat, especially from a human male.
True, Draigon has not yet come to enjoy Earth and those who live here as you and I have. Speaking of others, has there been news of Lyan and Adan’s progress with Krista?
They returned to Belizair today. Jeqon’s eyebrows drew together. Draigon intended to wait for their arrival. To meet Krista and tell her that Savannah would soon be joining her in Winseka. Did he not do so?
We have not spoken of it. Kye frowned briefly then grinned, remembering Draigon’s unexpected arrival on the scene just as Savannah had been demonstrating her skill with the rope. Savannah has kept us both occupied. If it had occurred to him, I believe he would have eased his way by speaking of Krista. I think he was dumbstruck by our bond-mate.
The grin slid into a somber expression. “I am not sure how easily we will get Savannah to agree to come home with us. She has a large family on Earth, one she is close to. I cannot see the Council, or even the others who have returned to Belizair with their human mates, being in favor of allowing those essential to our survival as a people to travel back and forth. And once there are children involved…”
Jeqon’s expression grew somber. “As I have heard it said here, Where there is a will, there is a way. It is early yet.” He turned his attention to the containers, opening the first one and retrieving it, touching Kye’s mind again in order to verify that Kelleher was the strawberry-blond. He would appeal to our women, Jeqon said, with wings he would look Amato.
“I cannot think of an instance when the Fallon sequence has been found in a human male.”
“There have been none, though we have tested only randomly. So far most of the women we have identified have been like Krista, only children or those who lost touch with their siblings at an early age. As far as I know, none have male relatives of interest to us.”
Kye watched as Jeqon finished sampling the DNA from the mug and applied a liquid substance to it before placing it into a machine. He was anxious for the results, but he had long ago learned to refrain from asking the Council scientists for technical details. To do so was to invite a headache. “You will want to test Savannah’s brothers and cousins?”
“Yes.” Jeqon reached for the second carry-out container. “Perhaps there is some way you can use the task of gaining samples to your benefit when it comes to Savannah.”
Kye nodded, seeing no point in denying the obvious. Other bounty hunters could be assigned, but it would make the most sense for Draigon and him to do it. And if some of Savannah’s family also carried the Fallon sequence…
For the first time, he truly appreciated the good that might come of Draigon being Savannah’s mate under Council law. Of Adan being Lyan’s co-mate in the claiming of Savannah’s friend. Both Adan’s clan-house and Draigon’s were old, well-respected, with many allies.
Kye left Jeqon to his work, knowing from experience it got done more quickly without distractions. He went to the large, glassed living room and stood in front of the windows, watching the sailboats and fishing boats on the bay.
There were similar bodies of water on Belizair, but neither the Vesti nor the Amato were drawn to them, not in the same way humans were. But then on Belizair, wings made many of the water sports and activities found on Earth either impossible or unpleasant. And though some along the coast caught fish as a means of livelihood, it was an expensive delicacy and not a mainstay of either the Vesti or Amato diet.
Kye tried to imagine what Savannah’s reaction to his world would be, and once again felt uneasy. Before Draigon’s arrival they had spent much of the morning slaughtering a wide variety of cans and paper targets with her primitive Earth weapons. And as they had done so, Savannah had spoken of her family, regaling him with tales and exploits involving cattle.
It still amazed and appalled him. This idea of using valuable resources to raise living creatures only to turn them into a food substance that fed fewer people than would have been fed if the resources had been directed otherwise. He had known it was the human way. But none of the Fallon mates he had seen to had been involved in such activities.
And yet…he had acquired a taste for the Colonel’s fried chicken. And when he had followed Krista around the country, the biscuits with sausage and gravy she frequently ate had finally tempted him into trying them.
By the stars, his mouth was watering just thinking about them.
Jeqon’s reflection appeared in the window, distracting Kye from thoughts of food. He turned, asking, wishing to hear the answer so clearly written on Jeqon’s face. They are descendants of the Fallon?
Yes! Both of them, just as you predicted.
“You will tell the Council?”
“They will be informed shortly. The other scientists are duplicating my work now. When their conclusions have been reached and found to match mine, then we will take the results to Belizair and discuss how to proceed.” Jeqon’s face grew serious, pensive. “But we will have to tread cautiously. There is no guarantee this discovery will make a difference for our women. You will speak of this only to Draigon?”
Kye nodded. “To raise our women’s hopes only to crush them would be unbearable for all of us.”
“I will make sure the Council knows who is responsible for this discovery.”
“Thank you.”
“You will stay here for the night?” Jeqon said, his body turning, his attention beginning to drift to the activity taking place in the laboratory.
“No. I will go to the transport chamber in the Sierras and claim one of the automobiles along with additional clothing for Draigon and myself. Then I will return to Reno and see what I can do to assist with this investigation Savannah has drawn us into.”
Jeqon laughed, his attention completely on Kye again. “Be careful and try not to do anything to remind the Council you are Lyan’s cousin.”
* * * * *
“Guess I should have put a key under one of the cushions or left the back door unlocked,” Savannah said as they made their way around the side of the cabin, stooping to gather discarded clothing as they went.
Draigon chuckled, the sound of it causing her to pause and look back over her shoulder, her eyes widening at the sight of his cock, already full again.
“I’m impressed,” she said, licking her lips and making his cock jerk with the image of seeing his bond-mate’s mouth on the very part of him she was admiring.
She snickered, no doubt well aware of his thoughts, her eyes sparkling with both amusement and carnal intention as she redirected her attention, bending over to pick up her bra, the movement drawing his gaze to where long, sleekly muscled legs met at the junction of her thighs, to a vulva swollen, partly opened in a seductive bid for another kiss, for another fucking with his tongue.
Draigon groaned and took himself in hand as fire raced through his shaft and his balls tightened, heavy once again and full of seed. His gaze moving up from feminine lower lips to creamy buttocks and the cleft between them.
Lust roared through him with thoughts of spreading those luscious cheeks and taking her anally. A common form of lovemaking on Belizair but one not as widely practiced on Earth if the material he had studied in preparation for claiming a bond-mate was to be believed.
Jealousy moved in just as it had when he had claimed Savannah on the cushions next to the hot tub. Possessiveness as he wondered if a human male had already known her in that way. If Kye had.
Draigon’s grip tightened on his penis. His other hand balled into a fist on the gathered clothing. The palm of his hand encountering the tiny tube Jeqon had given him before leaving Winseka.
For an instant, it felt as if time itself stopped, as if even his heart stopped. The hot blur of intention colliding with the means to have what he wanted.
Draigon released his cock in order to dig the tube of ritzca oil from the pocket of his jeans. Then dropped the hated Earth clothin
g back to the ground. Closing the distance between himself and Savannah as she remained bent over, reaching for her lacy underwear.
His arm snaked around her waist, the hand going unerringly to her mound, his fingers finding what his eyes had already shown him. Wet, swollen, female flesh.
“Oh god,” she said, shuddering, thrilling him, widening her legs so her clit stabbed his palm, so he could bury the tips of his fingers into her tight sheath.
“No,” he commanded when she would have straightened and stood. His penis throbbing when she obeyed. A fine layer of sweat joining the water from the hot tub in coating his skin. Savannah’s passion nearly burning him alive.
He leaned over, kissed the back of her neck and across her shoulders, his cock raging, urging him to take her when his lips trailed over the place Kye had marked her.
Draigon bushed his knuckles down her spine. The tube held in his fist absorbing heat though it wasn’t necessary.
The ritzca oil would warm the moment it touched skin. Its properties releasing with the contact, lubricating Savannah’s back entrance even as it made her more aware of each nerve ending and heightened the need for sexual release.
He tightened his arm around her waist and buried his fingers deeper into her cunt in order to keep her from moving away. Then he opened the fist skimming along her backbone enough to free two fingers and yet retain possession of the tube, brushed his fingertips across the cleft of her ass before pushing between her cheeks and circling the puckered skin surrounding her anus.
She jerked against him but didn’t fight, didn’t protest. And he dared to say what was on his mind. “I will have you here next.”
Savannah whimpered in response, her cunt clenching and unclenching on the fingers embedded in it. Her arousal flooding his cupped hand as lust whipped through them both.
Her hand covered his, pressing his palm against her clit. “Bed,” she said, the word little more than a pant though it was a shout in Draigon’s mind.
He released her but only long enough to get into the cabin. To tumble her onto the bed, onto her back, his hand once again going to her mound, cupping her, though this time his fingers delved into her slit only long enough to gather her wetness before moving to her anus. Her splayed legs and aroused expression stirring a beast he didn’t recognize in himself.
“You have done this before?” he growled. Jealousy and possessiveness raging through him. Threatening to steal his pleasure.
Savannah’s eyes widened slightly. Understanding flickering in them. Surprise.
“Once. But it wasn’t good for me.” A smile teased over her face, finding a small purchase place in his chest, widening it when she said, “I think you can make it better.”
In a flash the wild surge of emotions shifted form, becoming masculine confidence and arrogant challenge. He dared any memory to remain after he had finished with her.
Draigon opened the tube and pulled his hand away from her body, coated his fingers with the ritzca oil, his cock throbbing, already anticipating what would happen as he worked his way into her back entrance, as first his cockhead and then his shaft became saturated with the oil. As sensation intensified for both of them, pain and pleasure blending in moments of exquisite need and agony.
By the Goddess. He might well die on Earth from making love to his bond-mate!
Savannah’s chest filled with tender emotion as she watched the expressions flit across Draigon’s face. He was a fascinating contradiction. A puzzle she could spend a lifetime trying to sort out. A sexual addiction she had no interest in being cured of.
She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her, welcomed his kiss even as she tried to keep from tightening when his fingers stroked over her anus. Unexpected heat flared through the dark orifice.
She arched, swallowing his groan of triumph and pleasure. Her body rioting, her heart rate spiking, racing, her legs widening, allowing him more access so he could prepare her as every nerve ending seemed to come alive. To demand that he fill her.
Within seconds she was pleading, welcoming the invasion of his cock, straining to take more of him, crying out as he worked himself in, stretched her, filled her, his face a mask of stark masculine need, his breathing as ragged and sharp as her own.
He stilled when he was all the way in, his gaze locking with hers in unmistakable ownership, his words an echo of Kye’s. “Admit you belong to me.”
“I belong to you,” Savannah said, needing what he had to offer so badly she couldn’t find it in her to tease, only to demand. To beg. “Now fuck me. Please.”
And he did, sliding in and out of her nearly virgin hole until she was screaming, coming. Her fingernails scraping along his back and pulling him over the edge with her.
* * * * *
Kye parked on the bottom level of the garage across from The Ferret’s apartment building. He didn’t truly expect to find proof regarding the identity of the sniper he’d killed that first day. But until this moment, he hadn’t been free to return and investigate though the image of the sniper’s primitive weapon and the ease in which Savannah could have died were a horror he would not soon forget.
He used the open stairway to reach the upper floor of the garage, moving cautiously, soundlessly, muted lighting illuminating both stairwell and garage, eliminating the mask of darkness the night sky would have otherwise imposed. There were cars of every description housed in the building and he could only shake his head in amazement at how much space was required to keep them protected from the sun and readily available for their owners’ use.
If those on Belizair used such vehicles their world would soon become as polluted as parts of Earth had become. Their natural resources would disappear under the onslaught of a technology that left environmental carnage in its wake. That caused its people to lose touch with the natural world around them, to cease caring for it as a steward should do.
The god of the Vesti was a wandering god, their beliefs simple compared to the Amato. And yet one belief was shared by both races. They were to care for Belizair. To do nothing to harm it. And in return, Belizair protected those who lived on it. Making them impervious to attack from outside forces. Or at least it had been so before the Hotalings virus.
Much of a bounty hunter’s work came from guarding Vesti and Amato workers and interests on other worlds. Where products such as the Vesti ritzca oil and the silky material used to fashion garments were produced and created.
There was no ugly sprawl of manufacturing plants or warehouses, office complexes or giant shopping malls on Belizair. Their planet was a paradise. Maintained in simplicity, in balance with the natural world around them. Its inhabitants leaving for stretches of time to work or explore, but never permanently unless death took them. And even then, most believed their spirits returned to Belizair.
Kye eased from the stairwell, alert for the presence of others and the danger they might represent. But all that greeted him was the sound of scraps of paper rustling, of drink cups rolling, stirred by a breeze. The subtle crackling and popping of a cooling engine. The smell of oil and concrete. Rubber and gasoline.
He moved to the short wall, glanced at The Ferret’s apartment building, seeing in his mind’s eye the spot where Savannah’s truck had been parked, walking along the wall until he reached the spot where the sniper had been. There was no trace of him, or of his weapon. But Kye hadn’t expected there to be. Not here. Not in this spot. The Ylan stones would have left nothing visible.
Kye looked around him, saw things as the sniper would have seen them. Forced his thoughts to become those of a sniper.
From the garage The Ferret’s apartment wasn’t visible. But Savannah’s truck had been. And even now, well into darkness, the street between the parking garage and apartment building was busy, unlike the nearly abandoned streets near The Dive.
It would have been risky to park along the curb, to wait for an opportunity to shoot and then to merge into traffic without being seen. Yet from the garage…especi
ally if the would-be killer had intended to wait for Savannah to get into the truck, especially if a silencer was attached to his weapon…
The killer could easily have placed the weapon in the trunk of a car and escaped, perhaps even on foot, in the confusion that would follow when those below realized a murder had been committed. Or more likely, two murders.
He doubted the killer would have left him alive. Not when he couldn’t be sure of what Savannah might have told him.
Kye turned and focused on the cars close to where he was standing. A smile forming when he saw the van immediately in front of him.
Its height would have easily blocked the sniper from view and given him time to conceal a weapon if necessary. With a few steps, the rifle could have been pushed under a seat.
Kye moved closer, looked through the tinted windows of the van. Finding what he was looking for. Perhaps. A rifle case, though he couldn’t be sure.
A small laugh escaped as Kye remembered Jeqon’s warning. Be careful and try not to do anything to remind the Council you are Lyan’s cousin.
Not for the first time since meeting Savannah, Kye admitted that perhaps he was more like his cousin than he had once believed. If he could be absolutely sure the van belonged to the sniper, if he thought he would gain important information, he would not hesitate to tear the vehicle apart—even knowing he was leaving his own fingerprints in doing so.
But even if he dared to break into the vehicle, he had no access to the fingerprint records the humans favored for identification purposes. Nor did he have the supplies necessary to retrieve prints from the van.
He had only a hunch. Only the quick image of the man he had killed. His face partially obscured by the weapon, though Kye believed the man was one of the Abrego brothers.
Kye elected to memorize the license plate. The make and model of the van.
He would give the information to Vaccaro or Kelleher directly, or have Savannah feed it to them. He would have to come up with a story to interest them in the vehicle since there was no body, no gun, no clear evidence of a sniper.