The Lobos' Heart Song: Book 2 of the Soul-Linked Saga

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The Lobos' Heart Song: Book 2 of the Soul-Linked Saga Page 2

by Laura Jo Phillips


  “Shut up, Willy,” said a tall man with a huge belly and stringy hair. “It’s your turn when I say it’s your turn.”

  The third man laughed, a high cackling sound that hurt Jackson’s ears. The tall man, Lucky, reached out casually and clipped the man on the jaw, effectively stopping the laughter. Instead, the man now moaned with pain, both hands cupping his jaw.

  “Shut up, Frank,” Lucky said. Frank subsided at once, though he continued to hold his jaw and sniffle.

  Lucky bent down to pick up a silver case which he set on top of the crate and opened.

  “I got orders that this one gets special treatment, and you know what that means. But, the good news is she also gets the prime controller, so we get to test it before we take her to Lio. You’re too soft and tender for that, Willy.”

  “That’s not true,” Willy retorted. “I can be just as rough as you if I want.”

  Lucky straightened up, holding a silver object in his hand. He tossed the object lightly into the air and caught it, his face splitting into an ugly grin. “Okay, I’ll let you break in the controller, but on two conditions. You gotta do exactly as I tell you, and it’s gonna cost half your pay.”

  “That’s not fair!” Willy whined loudly.

  Lucky lifted a hand and Willy flinched back. “Fine, you do it then,” Willy said angrily, though he lowered his voice. “No bitch is worth half my paycheck. But next time is my turn.”

  Jackson had heard more than enough. He pushed the door open and calmly stepped into the cargo bay, a cavernous room with metal walls and concrete floors littered with various mechanical lifts and pallets for loading and unloading cargo. The three men gaped at him for a long moment before Lucky reached into his pocket for a weapon. Jackson waited patiently while the man pulled the small hand laser, pointed it at him, and fired. He smiled as he felt a small flash burn on his thigh. That was all he needed.

  He threw back his head and roared as he transformed into his bearenca, an eighteen foot tall bear-like creature with foot long fangs, razor sharp claws, and a shiny coat of dense white fur, broken here and there with large patches of black. He lowered himself to all fours and stalked towards the three human males with his teeth bared, emitting a low growl the three men felt more than heard.

  The one called Frank was the smallest and the fastest of the three. He ran for the cargo bay door, slipping easily through the small gap between the door and the ground-truck. Jackson let him go without a glance. He’d be back.

  He kept his attention on the tall one named Lucky. He was the meanest of the three and, Jackson thought, the most cunning.

  As Jackson stalked closer to him, Lucky aimed and shot at him repeatedly. The man was a terrible shot, only managing to graze Jackson a few times. Not that it mattered to Jackson. His body healed wounds from the puny hand laser in seconds.

  The man called Willy, his eyes wide with fear, his mouth hanging open in shock, was scuttling backwards as fast as he could move his feet. Jackson wasn’t sure if the man was aiming for the door or not, but a few moments later he slammed backwards into the metal wall at full speed and knocked himself out.

  Jackson shook his huge head in disgust, his eyes never leaving Lucky, the only one of the three who had not tried to run. Lucky slipped the silver object from the case into his pants pocket with one hand, while aiming the hand laser at the wooden crate with the other. He grinned widely, baring stained yellow teeth. Jackson paused, still several yards away from both the crate and Lucky.

  “So you’re one of them bear things,” Lucky said with a smirk. “Well guess what? There’s a woman in this box and if you come one…”

  Jackson leapt, moving far faster than Lucky thought possible--faster, in fact, than any human could track. Jackson pulled back at the last moment, not wanting to actually kill the man if he could help it. Of the three idiots, this one was, evidently, the brains of the outfit. It would be best to keep him alive long enough to get some information from him.

  Instead of biting the man’s head off, Jackson leaned down and bumped him in the chest with his shoulder. Lucky flew backwards, slamming into the same metal wall Willy had hit. Only Lucky was going much faster than Willy had been, and Lucky was leading with his head.

  There was a loud crack, and a splat. Jackson wasn’t sure which of the two heralded the death of the man, and didn’t really care. Either way, it didn’t look as though this was Lucky’s lucky day. He looked toward Willy, still unconscious on the floor, and shrugged his huge, powerful shoulders. Perhaps Willy would know something helpful.

  He shifted back to his human form and knelt down beside the wooden crate. The bay doors opened further and he looked up to see Rob strolling through them, Frank’s skinny body clamped between his massive jaws. Frank’s face was white and, aside from his harsh breathing, he was making no noise at all. Rob dropped him on the floor and shifted back to his human form, grimacing down at Frank.

  “You are one disgusting maggot,” he growled. Frank just curled into a ball and remained silent.

  Jackson returned his attention to the wooden crate which, he noted, was locked shut. The silver case that Lucky had left on top of the crate was empty so Jackson set it aside for the moment. He used air magic to increase the pressure inside the lock until it shattered, and then lifted the lid of the crate and tossed it back. He looked down into the crate and gritted his teeth together hard, fighting back a blood-rage. After taking a long moment to calm himself, he reached into the crate and began working to untie the knot at the top of the rough cloth bag enclosing the form of a woman.

  Saige thought she’d been doing pretty good there for awhile. Once she’d connected with Jackson, she’d begun to relax a little. Especially when she felt him getting closer and closer to her.

  Then the box had moved. Just a small shift at first. Then another shift and a jerk right before it was dropped so hard that it had knocked the breath out of her. When she was able to breathe again she heard male voices quite close by though muffled, arguing over her as though she were the last piece of meat in a market.

  She frantically reached for the man she had spoken to before, Jackson, but he didn’t answer her this time. She had to focus on her breathing again after that, reminding herself repeatedly that he had practically promised that he would rescue her.

  She was just beginning to get her breathing under control once more when the men stopped talking. There was a short, heavy silence broken by a loud, deep roar that caused her heart to skip a couple of beats. She could not imagine what sort of beast would make such a sound. It scared her so badly that she decided perhaps a seizure wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Easy now,” said a new voice in her mind. “I’m Clark, I think my brother mentioned me.”

  Saige was breathing heavily through her nose, her chest aching with the need for more air. “Yes,” she sent frantically, “he mentioned you.”

  “Just try to relax,” Clark said. “And don’t mind that roaring you hear, that’s just my big brother letting off a little steam. We’re gonna have you out of there in just a minute.”

  His big brother? Letting off a little steam? What the heck was he?

  “Mind your breathing now,” Clark reminded her.

  Saige nodded, and then rolled her eyes at herself. Obviously the man could not see her nod. “Okay,” she thought back.

  There were some other noises outside the box but Clark stayed with her, calming her, keeping her focused on staying relaxed. A sudden loud clang sounded very close by, causing her eyes to open reflexively just as the lid was lifted off of her prison and light poured in. She shut her eyes tightly. Even through the heavy cloth bag covering her, the sudden light still hurt.

  “You’re safe now,” said a voice just above her. Oddly, she recognized the voice, even though she’d only heard it in her mind before. She was certain it was Jackson.

  She felt him working to untie the bag near the top of her head, then lower it slowly to her shoulders. As soon as the cool, fres
h air hit her face she realized how hot and uncomfortable she was. She breathed as deeply as she could through her nose as she studied the face of the man in front of her.

  His eyes were the palest shade of green she had ever seen, his hair blonde, but so light it was nearly white. His face was all planes and angles, with a wide full mouth and strong jaw that was currently clenched so tightly she could see the muscles in his face tremble. The man closed his eyes for a long moment and she wondered why.

  She felt something touch the back of her head and she turned to see another man that looked exactly like the first one! She whipped her head back and forth between them quickly, but yep, they looked the same. Both tall, both muscular, both very good looking. The only difference she could see between them was that the man behind her, who was removing the foul gag from her mouth, had pale blue eyes. They reminded her of a pair of icebergs with their cool, pale coloring and massive physiques. Two very hot icebergs.

  The man behind her smiled as he gently lifted the gag away, and she wondered, as she often did, why it was that she never felt the slightest attraction to any male. Not even these two amazing specimens.

  “Thank you so much,” she said, though it was difficult to talk. Her mouth was dry as sand and it hurt from the gag. She had no idea how long the thing had been on her but it felt like a very long time.

  “Don’t try to talk,” Jackson said as he began slowly lowering the bag further down her body. Her eyes widened suddenly as she wondered whether or not she was even clothed. A quick glance revealed that she was still wearing her pajamas.

  She glanced up in time to see relief on Jackson’s face and she hid her smile. He had been nervous about her state of dress as well. If she didn’t hurt so much from being in the same position and unable to move for so long, she might have laughed.

  “As I told you earlier, my name is Jackson,” he said. “Jackson Bearen. The man behind you is my brother Clarkson, and my other brother, Robson, is just coming over.”

  Saige’s eyes widened as another man who looked exactly like the first two stepped into her field of vision, just behind Jackson. He had silver eyes, but otherwise was no different from the first two brothers. He was just as big, and just as beautiful as his brothers were. The three of them together all but oozed testosterone. She had no idea that men could be so...so male. But, while she was profoundly grateful to all three of them for her rescue, and she definitely appreciated their physical beauty, that was as far as it went.

  “Pleased to meet you Miss,” Robson said politely.

  Saige swallowed painfully. “My name is Saige Taylor,” she said.

  All three men stared at her for a moment. “Saige Taylor,” Jackson repeated. “The same Saige Taylor who was due to arrive this morning to visit Lariah Daniels?”

  Saige opened her mouth, then changed her mind about trying to talk any more just yet. She settled for nodding her head. These men knew Lariah? And she had been due to arrive this morning?

  Suddenly her hands were free and she felt the tension on her shoulders ease a fraction. She was lying on her left arm so she only tried to move her right one forward. It refused to cooperate, and the effort hurt. Clarkson carefully lifted her arm and slowly moved it for her as Robson bent down and began working on the bonds at her ankles. As her shoulder moved she felt an intense burning sensation that caused her to gasp.

  “Sorry, Miss Taylor” Clarkson said with a regretful frown.

  She could only smile ruefully at him, the pain too intense for words.

  Jackson rose to his feet and looked around as though searching for something. “I’ll be right back,” he said before taking off at what sounded like a run.

  When he was finished removing the bonds on her ankles, Robson straightened her legs very slowly. Saige felt the blood rush through her knees and into the lower portion of her legs and gasped again. She realized that just getting out of the box was going to take more time than she had thought.

  When Jackson returned he had a big glass of cold water and a long straw. He lowered it into the crate and placed the straw where she could reach it, and she drank her fill. Nothing had ever tasted as good as that water at that moment.

  “Better?” Jackson asked.

  “Much, thank you,” Saige whispered.

  Jackson smiled and removed the glass, setting it down on the floor beside the crate. “Just let us know if you want more.”

  Jackson reached for the silver case that he had set nearby and examined it. The inside of the case was filled with a soft spongy material with an odd shape cut into it that Jackson guessed would exactly match the shape of the silver object Lucky had removed from it. Whatever the object was, it must be special to require such careful packaging.

  He rose and walked across the cargo bay toward Lucky. He passed Frank where he still lay huddled on the concrete floor without a glance, but took a moment to determine that Willy was still out cold before kneeling down next to the unlucky Lucky’s remains.

  He reached into the man’s pocket and carefully removed the silver object. Now that he had it in his hand he could see that it appeared to be some sort of an injector, much like the kind used to inject medications or serums by medical personnel. The difference was that the needle was long, thick and had a large opening on the end. Also, the reservoir was made from solid metal rather than the usual transparent plastic, and it felt oddly heavy. He remembered that Lucky had called it a prime controller. He didn’t know what that meant, but there was something about the object that made his bearenca want to bare its fangs and growl.

  Jackson set the object down on the floor and quickly searched the rest of Lucky’s pockets but found nothing else, not even a wallet or an ident card. That bothered him a great deal. Jasan had very strict immigration laws, and they were very careful about who they did, and did not allow to reside on their world. He could not imagine how these three squiliks could have been granted a visa.

  He picked up the silver object and took it back to the case. He placed it carefully into its bed of foam material and closed the lid, snapping the catch securely.

  Saige was sitting up now but Jackson guessed it would still be a while before she was ready to be removed from the crate. Clark and Rob were still helping her to move her arms and legs in an effort to restore circulation slowly, and although the process was painful, Jackson was impressed to note that Saige had not uttered a single complaint. She certainly seemed different from other women he’d observed. He couldn’t help thinking she would make some happy male-set a very fine Arima.

  Jackson shook his head at his own flights of fancy as he paced away from Saige and his brothers before tapping the vox in his ear to activate it. A few moments later he heard Prince Garen’s voice in his ear.

  “Highness, I apologize for calling you so late, but I thought you’d want me to under the circumstances,” he said.

  “What is it? Have you found Saige Taylor?” Garen asked.

  “Yes, we have,” Jackson replied. He gave his Prince a rapid, but thorough, version of the night’s events.

  When he was finished he waited patiently for Prince Garen to assimilate everything he’d told him.

  “Do you know where the Lobos are at this moment?”

  “They are on the skyport waiting for the Cosmic Glory to dock,” Jackson replied. He checked his watch. “Which should be within the next few minutes.”

  “If you will take care of Miss Taylor until they finish, they can escort her to the ranch. Have them bring the two detainees as well,” Garen said. “I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

  Jackson smiled grimly. He, too, had a bad feeling about all of this.

  “It’s going to take us a while to get Miss Taylor out of this crate. From her condition, I’d guess she’s been in there for no less than 48 hours, probably more like 72.”

  “Permanent damage?” Garen asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Jackson replied. “We’ll be able to tell more when we get her out.”

&nbs
p; “If she seems well enough to travel, Riata can check her when she arrives. She’s here now to check on Lariah and doesn’t plan to leave for another day anyway.”

  “Is the Princess well?” Jackson asked, his heart skipping a beat in fear.

  Lariah Dracon, once Lariah Daniels, the first Arima in over three thousand years, was currently pregnant with triplet daughters. There was not a single member of their race that wasn’t counting the days until the birth. Lariah quite literally carried the future of the Jasani people within her small body.

  “She is fine, Jackson, as are the babes. However, you won’t be if she hears you call her Princess.”

  Jackson laughed. Lariah was small, delicate and sweet. She also had a temper to match her red hair and emerald eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jackson replied, relieved at the news that Lariah, and the babies, were well.

  “If Saige needs urgent medical care, I’ll have the physician here at the spaceport check her,” Jackson said.

  “Please accept our highest thanks for finding her,” Garen said. “I don’t know what we would have told Lariah if she hadn’t been found.”

  “Happily, that is not now a concern,” Jackson said. “I’ll send a message up to the Lobos, and we’ll see to Miss Taylor’s care until they return.”

  “Thank you, Jackson, we appreciate it,” Garen replied.

  Saige was happy to be sitting up, and relieved that she could move her arms on her own, though her muscles were still slow to respond. Her hands and feet still felt numb, but they were getting better. When Rob handed her the big glass of water she was able to wrap her hands around it and hold it, an improvement which helped raise her spirits. Her legs didn’t feel like they were quite ready to jump up and go dancing, but if forced, she thought she might be able to walk a short distance.

  Jackson returned and knelt down beside the crate, studying her carefully for a long moment. “Miss Taylor,” he began.

  “Please, call me Saige,” she said, her voice still croaky but, like everything else, improving quickly.

 

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