Yes, she was powerful, but he wasn't going to be overwhelmed by her or anyone else.
"You really think I'd do something stupid?" He ignored her dismissive eye roll. "Now that you're here, do you have a plan?"
"You took off in a cycle with no idea where you were going, and you want to know if I have a plan?"
She had a point.
"Look, I think I know where Matt's place is. It's about 20 minutes down by the end of the road," Jon said. "Think we could both fit in your cycle?"
"It's just about out of power. We'll have to walk. But we'd better hurry. Zina's here." Nadira closed her jacket and brushed off the sleeves. "Her aircar landed across from Jason's house."
"Then we'd better get going," he said. "I'll fill you in on the way."
Now that Zina was here, they'd have to hurry. One thing he knew for sure, she wasn't going to stop until she found them.
19 Shelter
"We need to walk down there closer to the beach. The trees will give us cover and it won't be easy to spot us from an aircar," Nadira suggested.
"We'll have to leave the cycles here," Jon said.
They headed down the hill to the sand. Nadira threaded her way through the sea grass shoots, careful not to lose her footing. Jonathan raced down, not stopping until he reached the water's edge where he dodged a wave that splashed up and washed over his boots.
"I thought you didn't like the beach." Nadira joined him, suppressing a laugh as he stamped his feet in the wet sand, his pants bottoms sticking to him.
"I don't." Jonathan hunched his shoulders against the breeze that whipped up around them. "It's windy over here."
The clouds were quickly closing in; the bright sunlight giving way to a grayish sky and darkened clouds over the sea.
At least the aircar couldn't take off if a storm was coming. But the real problem was she and Jonathan would be caught out in it.
After about 15 minutes of travelling, Nadira was starting to miss the comforts of living in climate-controlled Nova City. Grey, purple-streaked clouds covered the sky, and a gusting wind pushed her with every step.
Deeply rooted in the sand, the gnarled trees that grew close to the water's edge shuddered in the wind. Their brownish-green bark was riddled with holes, as though they'd been chiseled with a miner's tool.
"The sea is getting rougher." Jon observed, as the foamy water crashed onto the shore, each wave rolling up higher than the last. "We should go back to the road."
"Being out in the open will be worse. We'll need shelter until it passes." At least there were a couple of houses up ahead. Hopefully the occupants were as friendly as Jason had been.
"Let's keep going a little more," Jon replied. "Matt's has to be close."
By now Jon's shirt was sticking to him, revealing the outline of his muscular chest. Even his curly hair was limp, with wet strands sticking to his forehead.
"Where's your jacket?" she asked, squinting to keep the sand out of her eyes.
"Left it back in the transport."
Her own jacket was damp and barely enough to protect her from the cooling temperatures. And the water kept washing up over her shoes.
The roar of the waves barreling in made it difficult to talk without yelling. Ducking her head to shield her face from the sand, she could barely see where she was walking.
"Jon, the weather's getting worse," Nadira said, raising her voice to be heard above the wind. "We'll have to get indoors until it passes."
"You're right. This is too much," Jon grabbed her arm to steady her. "Let's check this house coming up."
Stooping under a twisted tree limb, Nadira led the way over to a two-level, boxy house. It resembled Jason's, only this one didn't look as well kept. The window next to the sand-battered front door had a broken pane, and the stairs creaked as Nadira stepped on them. When she touched the rusted fingerpad, nothing happened.
"The windows are covered. Maybe it's abandoned," Jon offered. "Come on. We'll check the next one."
At least the next house was only steps away. Jon ran up and touched the fingerpad. The door creaked open. "Hello!" he called out.
She followed him into a large, empty living area that was lit only by the grayish light from outside. The air was stale, and smelled of salt water and something sour.
"It looks empty," Nadira said. In fact, it didn't feel like anyone had been here for a very long time.
There was a table large enough to seat four and an equal number of chairs scattered around. A puddle of water was spreading across the tiled floor, growing with each drip that fell from the ceiling.
"I'll check upstairs," Jonathan said.
Nadira walked through the open doorway that led to the kitchen. It was empty, except for some instant food packs that were on the counter next to the deep, stone sink.
She examined one of them. Fish soup, not exactly appetizing. It was enough to make her miss Jason's cheerful house. Back in the dining room, she peeled off her damp jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.
Rain pelted the window, leaving streaks across the glass. Zina wouldn't be a threat while this kept up.
A boom of thunder shook the house, echoing through the empty room. "Jon?" she called out. No answer. "Jonathan!"
Her response was a thud, followed by another one. Nadira rushed up the stairs. Breathless, she checked the first room. It was empty except for a chair facing the window. Darting to the room across from it, she got there in time to see Jonathan wrapping a blanket around him, his boots on the floor.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Why didn't you answer?"
"My shirt's wet. Figured this was warmer." He climbed on the bed. "Worried about me?"
"No!" He was the most exasperating man she'd ever met. "You like taking your clothes off, don't you?"
"I thought you liked to see me naked." He chuckled. "But I still have my pants on."
Nadira sat down on the edge of the bed, her back to him. Kicking off her shoes, she drew her legs up and sat cross-legged. Though she could feel a desire to be closer to him, she pushed it away. She was not going to give him the satisfaction.
Outside the wind continued to howl, whistling through cracks in the window.
"So, Zina can track me now?" Jonathan asked.
"Yes," she replied. "If she gets hold of you, she'll take you in and force you to tell her whatever she wants to know. And I'll probably be sitting in a detention cell next to you."
"Then we'll have to find Matt before she finds us."
Was he serious? "You make it sound so easy." Her back was aching. She inched up the bed and leaned against the headboard, leaving room between herself and Jonathan.
Clumps of sand hit the windows, as the wind continued to pummel the house. Considering the hole that was already in the roof, she hoped the house was strong enough to withstand the storm.
"Wonder if there's any confirmation yet about…my father." Jonathan stretched out his legs, his bare feet poking out from under the covers.
"Did Chief Mantee say why there was a delay?"
Jon snorted. "She was too busy being pissed at me. Cat saw Ilana's name on the shuttle passenger list."
"Wait." Nadira shifted so she could look at him. "She said she saw Ilana's name? How could she? Ilana used an alias. Remember?"
Jonathan's mouth gaped as her words registered. "Cat knew that Cintra Ansi was Ilana Travac."
"Only the Guardians knew about the connection, Jon. That information wasn't shared."
"Damn it, I should've known. I should've figured it out the way Cat was acting." He thumped his fist down on the bed. "That's why she didn't want me to get involved. She was in it with Ilana."
"Jon, don't." She grasped his hand. Through their connection, his energy rushed into her, like water breaking out of a dam. Quickly, she worked to put up her internal protections.
Her body shuddering as she fought to maintain control. She'd have to learn to manage it or before long she wouldn't be able to separate his emo
tions from her own.
"What is it?" he asked, cupping her chin in his hand. "What happened?"
"Our connection happened." Nadira sighed.
Jon wrapped his arms around her, his fingers caressing her back. Leaning against him, she felt the vibration of his steady heartbeat.
"Then it's still as strong as it was?" he asked.
"Yes."
As she'd feared, though she'd tried to maintain her personal protections, the connection between them had become permanent.
Jonathan pulled away, and before she realized what he'd done, he was straddling her. Holding her face, he kissed her, easing his tongue into her mouth with one firm stroke. He squeezed her arms, pulling her towards him.
She shivered at his touch. Getting up on her knees, she slid her arms around him, gliding her hands over his bare skin.
"Whatever happens, we'll get through it together," he whispered. "Do you trust me?"
"I should ask you the same thing," she replied, reaching up to brush a lock of hair off his forehead.
A smile spread across his face, his grey eyes filled with amusement. "I asked you first."
*****
Running. He was running through the twisting tunnels that led deeper into the mine. And yet his pursuer was still behind him. Jon didn't know where he was going as he dashed through the damp, hollowed out caverns.
Rocks moved beneath his feet. Another step would send him tumbling over the edge of a precipice. Digging his fingers into the openings of the slick, machine-blasted walls, he groped his way back from the edge…
"Jonathan! Wake up, Jon." A soft voice echoed through the darkness. Calling him back.
His eyes snapped open as he gasped for air. "What? Where am I?"
Nadira was kneeling on the bed in front of him, her gold-flecked, brown eyes shimmering. "You were dreaming. The storm's over. We have to go."
He sat up and ran his hand through his hair. "How long was I asleep?" A dream? It felt real, right down to the dust he still tasted in his mouth. But why would he dream about being in the mines?
"Almost an hour. I was talking to you and all I heard was a snore." She eased off the bed.
"I don't snore." Stretching, he joined Nadira at the window.
The sea was back to its regular sapphire blue calm, the waves gently lapping onto the shore. Even the dark clouds were gone, with just a few smudges of red, gold and purple against the horizon.
"It's almost sundown. We'd better get going," she said, as she rolled her shirtsleeves down.
"Too bad I didn't stay awake." Jon pulled his boots on. "We could've done something else to pass the time."
She narrowed her eyes at him, the hint of a smile on her lips. "We didn't have time for that."
"There's always time for that," he replied, slipping into his shirt.
"Jonathan, you are just--"
Whirrrrrrr
"Damn it! What's that noise?" From deep inside he felt a vibration scraping his nerve endings. Wincing, he ran to the window.
There was nothing out there but a flock of brown birds gliding across the water.
"I don't hear anything," Nadira said, as she reached out to him.
Jon rushed out of the room and was halfway down the stairs before he heard Nadira's footsteps behind him. The door swung open and he bolted out onto the sand.
"Jonathan!" Nadira grasping at him, trying to catch hold. "What is it?"
A black aircar was slowly heading in their direction. It was hovering lower to the ground than usual, probably scanning the area as it travelled.
"It's Zina. Hurry, Jon you have to go find Matt's house. It can't be much further now. I'll get her to stop."
"No," Jonathan said. "We're going together." He wasn't leaving her to face her mentor alone.
"I can delay her. If you stay, she'll take you in. Please go ahead. I'll catch up."
Her tone was insistent, but he wasn't having it. "I'm not going without you."
"Jonathan, don't argue!" Nadira clutched his arm.
"She's tracking me, right? We'll lead her right to Ilana and Matt."
"And what if we can't find the house v ? she asked.
"Look it's landing." He pointed to the aircar as it descended. "It must be setting down in that open field on the other side of the road."
"If Zina picked up your energy trail, she'll track you to this house," Nadira said.
"Staying on the beach will slow us down." Bits of grass, tree bark and driftwood were scattered across the beachfront. "The road would be better."
"But we'll be out in the open."
"I know." He sighed. "Okay, we'll stay on the beach for a while. Matt's house has to be close by. It won't be long now."
"All right. Let's go," she said.
Jonathan took her hand and they headed down the beach.
*****
Nadira looked back at the distance they'd covered. It had to be almost two kilometers by now. At least the trees were thicker on this part of the beach, obscuring them from anyone who might be following.
Up ahead, the beach ended at a cluster of jagged rocks that jutted out into the sea.
On this part of the shore, the sand was lighter and shimmered in the late day sun. Speckles of light grey mixed with beige and even bits of pink, like someone had taken a basket of crystals and emptied them out along the shore.
"Damn," Jon said, gripping one of the tree limbs, "we can't get through this."
He was right. Here there were no houses filled with staff to trim back the growths. So the trees grew wild, their limbs twisting, bending and linking together, forming an impenetrable living wall that stopped them from travelling any farther.
"You're right. Let's get back on the road." Nadira said.
A narrow gravel path led them away from the beachfront. Here the grass was growing just as wild as the trees, with fronds shooting up past her knees. A few of the taller shoots lashed at her arms, stinging her through her thin shirt.
The hill was steeper here, and the sand-covered incline made it difficult to get her footing.
"Get hold of the stems," Jon suggested, as he grabbed a bunch of fronds. "Pull yourself up."
Following his lead, she did so, managing to haul herself up the hill and onto the road. Jon climbed up after, but not without yanking out a handful of the shoots.
"At least that grass is good for something." He threw them on the ground and wiped off his hands.
Nadira brushed off bits of fuzz as she scanned their surroundings. So far so good. No aircars, no security and no Zina.
"What's that? I think I see a building behind those trees," Jon said.
Across from them, set back from the road, stood a grove of trees. These weren't bent and twisted like the ones along the shore, but standing erect, their limbs shooting straight up and loaded with small red thorns. Beyond them she caught a glimpse of a large, slate grey house.
"That looks too big to be a house," she said. "Maybe it's the shuttle station."
"No, that wouldn't be over here. Where would they take off from?"
"Let's check it out."
She kept her awareness open as she weaved in between the trees. A place like this had to have a security force.
"Look at that," Jon said.
Balconies stretched across each of the four levels, each with a set of glass double doors. The windows flanking the front door were two-stories high and were trimmed in gold. In fact, all the trimmings were gold, even the pointed spires that capped the corners of the house. No one could mistake it for just another Novacorp standard-issue seaside home.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
Nadira turned to see a security guard approaching. Dressed in a one-piece, dark grey uniform, her face was partially obscured by a shiny helmet. As the guard got closer, she realized the oval-shaped object in her hand was a stunner.
She'd allowed herself to become so distracted, she hadn't sensed the guard's presence.
"We're looking for Matt Bento," Nadir
a replied. "Is this his house?"
"Yes. Where did you come from?"
With a quick glance at Nadira, Jon responded. "We're with the company. I'm Jonathan Keel. This is my associate. We're expected."
After what they'd been through, both of them probably looked like they'd washed up on the beach. Reading her emotions, Nadira could tell that the woman wasn't sure, but didn't see them as a threat.
The guard lowered her weapon. "We'll see about that. Come with me."
20 Homecoming
Walking into Matt's house was like walking through the Nova City shuttle terminal--oversized and overwhelming. All around him, Jon saw signs of Matt's enormous wealth on display. From the jewel-encrusted, pink marble floor, to the gold railing across the upstairs landing, to the matching marble staircases that led to the second level.
"What the hell is this?" Jon asked, as Nadira joined him in the middle of the entrance foyer.
"It makes the Emerald Club look like a mining installation," she replied, staring up at the clear glass roof.
"This way." The guard motioned to a set of open double doors on the left. "Wait in Mr. Bento's office."
Jon entered the room, his feet cushioned by a furry white carpet. Matching chairs and couches trimmed in gold were placed around the room. Matt's gold-trimmed, black desk sat opposite the door.
"Jonathan!" Matt rushed into the room. "What are you doing here?" He motioned for the guard to leave them.
Jon was shocked at how terrible Matt looked. His grey hair hung, scraggly and greasy. His dark red shirt was stained on the front, possibly from sweat or having something thrown on him, and his pants were ripped at the knee.
"Matt? What happened to you?"
"Why did you come here?" Matt's eyes were glassy. "You have to leave now!"
"Where's Ilana? Why are you protecting her?" Jon asked.
"I have to, Jon. or she'll turn me in. I'm not going back to the mines."
"Going back? But you worked in the mines--didn't you?"
"I was sentenced. Five years for embezzlement." Matt staggered over to one of the plush couches and fell back on the cushions. "When I was released, I met your father and Catherine. We worked together here on Hathor. Your mother and I were friends too, Jon. And I wanted her to--"
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