Too Close to the Sun (The Sun 1)

by Popp, Robin T.

  “No. I’ll kill you both if I have to.” Rianol’s laser wavered dangerously back and forth. “Drop it,” he said, nodding toward Nicoli’s weapon.

  Nicoli knew he was dealing with a madman. With no shot open to him, Nicoli lowered his laser to the ground.

  Then suddenly, Angel went limp. Unable to hold her, Rianol’s arm dipped under the weight and Angel fell to the ground. In that instant, Nicoli lunged, knocking Rianol off his feet. He grabbed the hand holding the laser and the two men wrestled for it.

  Rianol pulled the trigger. A single shot fired and Angel screamed in pain. Out of his peripheral vision, Nicoli saw her fall to the ground.

  In a blind rage, Nicoli twisted Rianol’s arm and the laser fired another shot, this time striking Rianol in the head.

  For a second, his body remained standing, then it toppled to the ground.

  Nicoli was already running to Angel’s side. When he reached her, he checked her wound. It looked serious and real fear swept through him.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Nicoli?”

  “I’m here, Kiera.” He leaned close, pressing his lips to her forehead.

  "But I saw you die."

  “Don’t talk,” Nicoli urged, looking around for Yanur, willing his friend to magically appear.

  “Tell me how,” she whispered.

  “After the fight, Yanur let everyone believe I was dead. He transferred my life essence back into the biopod, then took my body to the ship where he used the Reparator to heal me. We moved the ship so no one would interrupt us.”

  “You could have told me.”

  Nicoli heard the pain in her voice and his heart ached. “I’m sorry, Kiera. There wasn’t time.”

  “I'm glad you're not dead.” She raised a hand to caress his cheek, then let it fall limply back to the ground. Her eyes drifted shut and she grew still.

  “Angel!” Fear made his voice sharp. He couldn’t lose her. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged. “I don’t think I can live without you. I love you, Angel.”

  She smiled, slowly opening her eyes. “I’m not dying. I’m just tired. It was a long night.”

  Nicoli could hardly believe it. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s only a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.” She raised her hand to cup the back of his head and pulled him down to her. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  Epilogue

  Skeeter's Bar, Earth

  One year later

  “I thought I told you not to come in here during peak business hours,” Dugan shouted from his office doorway. “The customers don’t feel comfortable with Security Forces hanging around. Scares ‘em away.”

  “Give it a break, Dugan.” Angel responded, making straight for the bar and collapsing onto a stool. “Nicoli hasn’t been with the Security Forces for almost a year and you know it.”

  Dugan cast a dubious look at Nicoli, who merely smiled as he leaned against the bar next to Angel’s stool. “You’re still scaring away the customers."

  Without raising her now blonde head from where it throbbed in her hands, Angel mumbled. “It’s mid-morning. There are no customers. And if you aren’t nice, we’re going to leave.”

  “What’s with you this morning?”

  Nicoli came to her defense. “She’s not feeling well."

  Dugan’s attitude changed immediately, becoming one of fatherly concern. He had slipped easily back into his familiar role when Angel returned to Earth with a new husband in tow, though he hadn't acted thrilled with the idea of having a government agent as a pseudo son-in-law, claiming it was bad for business. Angel, however, knew he secretly admired her husband.

  “You drink too much Martian ale last night?” Dugan stood close to her now. “I told you to go easy on that stuff.”

  “No. I didn’t even drink last night,” Angel argued, fighting another wave of nausea as it roiled in her stomach. “Ask Martin if you don’t believe me.”

  She peeked up at the bartender, who always seemed to be wiping the counter.

  “That’s the truth, Dugan. Not a drop for our girl, here. Wasn’t feeling too good last night either, as I recall.”

  “I think she might have picked up a bug over on Zeta Prime,” Nicoli offered by way of explanation. “It’s the middle of the rainy season there.”

  “What were you doing in that God-forsaken part of the quadrant?” Dugan asked.

  “Just debugging a computer program,” Nicoli replied casually.

  Angel snorted. “We had to steal it back from the Wathuilies first.”

  “Well, yeah. We had to do that, too.” Nicoli replied.

  “That’s it.” Dugan slammed his fist down on the counter. “Sorry,” he said when Angel groaned. “You’re not going on any more of these missions, do you understand?”

  “We’re not?” Nicoli sounded amused and Angel hoped he would humor Dugan. She wasn’t sure she could handle one of their “debates” on the dangers inherent in her and Nicoli’s new line of consulting work.

  “Actually,” Nicoli continued. “We’re going to Coronado for a few months. Angel’s mom is due to deliver in a week or so and Yanur, who can bring the dead back to life, suddenly doesn’t feel capable of delivering his own child.”

  “Oh.” Angel heard the disappointment in Dugan’s voice. “When were you planning to leave?”

  “That kind of depends on you,” Nicoli said.

  “I don’t follow.”

  Angel raised her head to look first at Dugan, then at Martin. “Well, to be honest, I was hoping you two would go with us. Mom and Yanur would love to have you visit. And you said the other day how you wouldn’t mind checking out the place.”

  Dugan and Martin exchanged surprised looks, then a slow smile spread across both faces.

  “You want us to go with you?” Martin asked.

  “Unless you don’t feel like you can leave.” Angel said, knowing full well that both men had enough money put away that they could afford to take off, indefinitely.

  “What about those Harvesters?” Martin sounded a little dubious.

  “There are no Harvesters left on Coronado,” Nicoli reassured him. “Rianol, I mean Brother Joh’nan, achieved his goal better than he realized. He saved his people. The entire colony of initiates has been fully indoctrinated into the Coronadian society. They are living happy, healthy, normal lives – or at least as well as anyone could on that backward planet.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. Mom and Yanur have done a lot to turn things around. Everyone has accepted Yanur as the new High Counsel and Mom said they’re getting fewer complaints about her attending the counsel sessions.

  “And the Harvesters did bring an aptitude for technology with them, so in another fifteen years, when Yanur and Mom retire and it’s our turn to run the planet, Coronado will practically be state---”

  There wasn't time to finish the sentence before Angel bolted from her stool and ran into the bathroom, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the waste disposal. When she was sure nothing more would come up, she wet a cloth and wiped her face. This morning ritual had grown too familiar of late.

  She emerged from the bathroom to find Dugan and Martin gawking at her and Nicoli looking very troubled.

  “What?” She felt a little on display. At that moment, her stomach growled and she looked over at Martin. “Got any food in the place? I’m famished.”

  “I thought you didn’t feel well,” Dugan said suspiciously.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m feeling better now.”

  Dugan turned to Nicoli. “How long has this been going on?”

  “About three weeks, near as I can tell.”

  A slow smile spread across Dugan’s face. “Interesting. Well, by all means, Martin and I will go with you to Coronado.”

  Martin looked surprised. “We will?”

  Dugan chuckled. “Hell, yeah. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Angel looked at Dugan. He knew. It wasn’t fair. It was her body and
even she wasn’t sure. Before she could say anything, he walked back to his office.

  “Be sure to pack enough clothes,” he shouted to Martin when he reached the doorway. “At least enough for eight or nine months, maybe longer.” He shut the door and they heard him laughing on the other side.

  Martin rushed around the counter and gave her a hug.

  “Congratulations, girl. I gotta go pack.” He walked to the front door, locked it and placed a “Closed” sign in the window. Then he disappeared upstairs.

  Nicoli had been unusually quiet during this exchange and Angel found she was afraid to look at him. They’d never talked about having kids. After the childhood experience he’d had, she wasn’t sure he wanted any. She felt, rather than saw, him step closer.

  “Angel? Is it true?” He whispered as if speaking louder might shatter the moment.

  “I think so.” She turned hopeful eyes up to study his face. “I was going to ask Yanur to scan me when we got to Coronado.”

  A smile crept across his face and he gathered her into his arms.

  “Are you okay with this?” She asked. “I mean, we never really talked about it.”

  “Am I okay?” He gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure I know how to be a father. But yes, I’m okay. I want kids.”

  She looked up amazed. “You do?”

  He smiled. “I’ve wanted kids since the moment I saw you.”

  She laughed. “The first time you saw me, I was lying naked on a gurney in the middle of the Harvesters’ processing building. Somehow I don’t think having kids was on your mind.”

  “True, but the thoughts I had were along those lines.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes. Shall I tell you all about them?”

  “No. I’d rather you show me.”

  He reached down and lifted her into his arms.

  “Where are you taking me?” She asked, resting her head against his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

  “To the stars and beyond.”

  Dark Side of the Sun

  The next book in the Sun Series

  Coming soon...

  Chapter 1

  Hell's Gate Space Station

  The Outer Rim 3895 A.D.

  So this is Hell, Phoenix thought, looking around. It had taken two chartered ships, three hyper-leaps and four wormholes to get to Hell’s Gate. Now that she’d arrive, the space station wasn’t what she’d expected. Of course, she’d never been to The Outer Rim. In fact, she’d never been anywhere before.

  Tired and nervous, she stood just inside the entrance to the only bar, her small duffle bag with a change of clothes clutched in her hand, and braced herself against the assault on her senses. In the back of the room, a band played a blaring tune, competing with the boisterous drone of those gathered to eat, drink and generally make merry. The odor of stale ale mixed with the stench of smoke and unwashed bodies until the overall effect made her nauseous.

  The bar patrons just plain scared her. Though she tried to think of this as a grand adventure, the bottom line was that the Outer Rim drew a specific type of individual and twenty-two year old Phoenix Eemin was way out of her element.

  She wanted to turn and leave, but she had come for a reason and he was somewhere in this crowd. Unfortunately, she had no clue where to start looking.

  She fought her way through the crowd, feeling conspicuous in the flowing robes of a Xenobian priestess even though she knew no one would bother her. Xenobian priestesses were awarded universal respect for their empathic powers. The fact that she’d “borrowed” the robes was no one’s business but her own and it was unlikely she’d run into any Xenobians who could expose her for the fraud she was.

  "I'm looking for Adrian Sun," she shouted to the bartender when she reached the bar. His gaze momentarily narrowed as he considered her, then he jerked his thumb in the direction of two men leaning against the end of the bar.

  Phoenix made her way over to them. With their backs to her, they didn't seem to notice her and she had a few moments to study them. Both wore the customary long black coats that were the trademark of bounty hunters. Below those, she caught a glimpse of weathered black boots and was startled when both pairs turned to point toward her.

  Embarrassed, she snapped her head up and found herself the object of scrutiny from two pairs of golden brown eyes. The aura of danger they exuded was both intimidating and overwhelming. In a passing, random observation, she noticed both men were ruggedly handsome. The man on her right, with the short, unruly black hair, wore a bemused expression.

  The man on her left was just the opposite. He stood a few centimeters shorter than his companion, which was still a full head taller than Phoenix, and his hair was dark blond instead of black. He radiated the same aura of danger, but rather than the bemused look of his friend, his expression was seriousness.

  As if compelled by their intensity, she felt her gaze drawn to his eyes. Something in their fathomless depths pulled at her and it was an effort to look away.

  "What do you want?” The rich, masculine timbre of his voice washed over her and it took several seconds before she could gather her wits to respond.

  Taking a breath to steady herself, she returned his scowl with what she hoped looked like a firm and steady gaze. "I'm looking for Adrian Sun.” She searched each man's face, hoping for a clue that would tell her which man was the one she sought, while rising doubt made her question the wisdom of her decision to come here.

  "Why?"

  "It's private.” They were drawing attention and she looked around for an empty table. "Perhaps there's someplace quiet where we could talk, Mr. Sun?” She glanced at each man, still not sure to whom she spoke.

  "I'm not interested," the serious one said.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Whatever you’re selling, I'm not interested.” He turned his back, dismissing her. She saw him raise his hand to hail the bartender, who quickly replaced the empty glass before him with a full one.

  "Excuse me.” Phoenix raised her voice to be heard over the loud drone of voices, but he showed no sign of having heard her. She looked to the other man and received a slightly mocking smile before he also turned his back and rejoined his friend.

  Irritated to be so easily ignored, Phoenix stepped closer to touch the first man’s arm. No sooner had her fingers brushed the cloth of his duster than he whirled around and grabbed her wrist, holding it in front of him in an iron tight grip.

  Panic swept through her but she met the man's steely gaze. In a battle of wills, she tested his hold on her arm and felt his fingers tighten ever so slightly.

  "You're hurting me.” She spoke the words slowly, without inflection. This man reeked of danger and yet she sensed he meant her no real harm.

  He continued to stare at her but then, as if her words finally penetrated, he turned to look at his hand still gripping her wrist. Slowly, his fingers relaxed until she was able to pull free.

  She glared at him, rubbing her wrist where it still tingled from his touch. "Adrian Sun, I presume?"

  He narrowed his eyes and when he spoke, something dark colored his tone, causing his words to sound like a warning. "You shouldn't be here."

  "I have as much right to be here as anyone else.” Phoenix refused to be intimidated. "And I'm not leaving until I talk to you."

  He didn't say anything, but neither did he turn his back on her. Frustrated, Phoenix braced herself. “My father told me that if he was ever in trouble, I should get in touch with Adrian Sun, care of Hell’s Gate.”

  "Yeah? And who’s your father?”

  Skyler O'Mallen."

  "Adrian."

  Jack's voice penetrated Adrian’s shock as he stared at the young woman claiming to be Skyler's daughter. When had Skyler had time to have a daughter, he wondered? From the looks of it, about twenty years ago, but why hadn't Skyler ever mentioned her? He must have had his reasons.

  "Maybe we should sit down," Jack suggested. "There's a table over there.” He m
otioned for the young woman to follow him as he cut through the crowd. Adrian followed her and quickly found himself mesmerized by the way her body moved beneath the billowy lavender robes. Xenobian Priestess robes, if he wasn't mistaken, and that just added to the mystery. Skyler had a Xenobian daughter?

  They sat at the table and for several long moments said nothing. Emerald green eyes studied him from across the table as she sat stiffly. It struck him that while not a classic beauty, she was attractive in an open, innocent way. He wished he could see her hair hidden beneath the drape of the headdress. He wondered if it was dark, blond – or auburn, like Skyler’s. Would it be long and straight? Or had it been shorn off in the same fashion worn by the religious women of Ju-marzen.

  "How long have you been a Xenobian Priestess?" Adrian asked, trying to distract himself from her looks. Or maybe he was reminding himself that she’d taken a vow of chastity.

  "Six solar cycles.”

  "Interesting.” His attention was drawn to the scene unfolding far behind her on the other side of the bar. "I would think being in a place like this would bother you. All the various emotions.”

  Two drunken patrons stumbled to their feet and lunged at each other, fists flying while nearby onlookers scrambled out of the way.

  "My training allows me to shield myself from the various emotions about me, but I’m always aware of the emotions around me.”

  One of the men pulled a trader's blade and lunged at his opponent, nearly slicing off the man's arm in a sweeping arc. The man screamed in obvious pain, but the sound did not carry over the general noise level in the bar. The woman before Adrian seemed oblivious to it all.

  He gave her a slow smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You're lying."

  "I beg your pardon," she sputtered indignantly in what Adrian considered a moderately good performance.

  "You're no more a Xenobian Priestess than I am."

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Adrian cut her off. "Save your breath. We get all sorts out here in the Outer Rim and they all lie better than you do."