Fallon [Darklands]

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Fallon [Darklands] Page 10

by Autumn Dawn


  "Ah.” He set the Bell carefully on his desk.

  Fallon picked it up and looked at it. “So this is what I spent weeks of frustration trying to figure out."

  Rain shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, it frustrated Azion for years."

  The look he sent her throbbed with so much fury that she finally shut up. Taunting him was beginning to look hazardous to her health.

  "So,” Jayems said, drawing out the word to get their attention. “This Bell could be used for escape, theft ... even murder."

  "An assassin's dream,” Rykarr said, speaking up for the first time.

  "That's not why I made it,” Rain said with a frown.

  "It's how it'll be used,” Rykarr answered. “I'd say it's best left locked up in Lord Jayems’ safe."

  She smiled without humor. “Nice thought, but it doesn't eliminate the central problem. Azion knows I can make another one any time I want. Hundreds, if I liked."

  Her words met with deafening silence.

  It was almost funny, sharing the irony of her existence with three men who looked as stumped by the problem as she did.

  For a moment, anyway.

  "Azion will have to die,” Fallon said coldly. “I won't tolerate his continued threat to my family."

  Surprised by that, she shot a look at him.

  Jayems held up a hand. “Peace. We haven't proved beyond doubt it was him."

  "I can't afford to wait,” Fallon answered.

  Rain let them debate, following her own lines of thought. When she'd traced them somewhere interesting, she spoke them aloud. “What makes an object valuable? It's rarity. In the case of technology, it's good only until it becomes obsolete or common. One day a spy is killing for it, the next every guy in America is using it in from the comfort of his couch."

  "You can't put a Bell in every house,” Fallon argued, looking alarmed at the possibilities.

  "No, not as it stands. I can modify the technology, though. Think about it,” she said, getting excited. “What have you got for transportation here? Shoe leather and pack animals, some boats. Okay, what if I made Bells for emergency or official transport, limiting their use to on world, secure sites? The Bells could be programmed as single use units, or better, single destination"

  Fallon said slowly, “Azion would still know they could function as off-world destination devices."

  She shook her head. “Not if I published the disappointing results of my off-world attempt, made it very public, stressed the local applications as if I'm trying save face. Half the appeal of the technology is its secrecy. Once it goes public.... “She let them work it out for themselves.

  "All of this still leaves you lacking justice,” Jayems pointed out. “While your sighting of a gray Haunt is incriminating for Azion, I'm told you have no scent memory. Without it, your testimony is still his word against yours."

  She drooped a little, thinking of that. The world sucked sometimes. “Well, Fallon was against plan A. I compromised by solving his problems instead."

  There was silence as the men regarded her. When he spoke again, Jayems’ voice had gentled. “You still aren't certain it works."

  "It'll work,” she said gloomily. “I always make these things work."

  Jayems looked at Fallon, who still held the Bell. “Well? Do you want to keep charge of it?"

  Fallon looked at Rain. “Do you need it?"

  She swallowed. She hadn't used the Bell in days, was afraid of what the withdrawal would be like. On the other hand, maybe Fallon's ... attentions ... would mitigate any lingering problems. Making love to him did seem to give the same sort of pleasure, only deeper and fuller.

  She blushed just thinking about it. “No. Better keep it here, just in case."

  Fallon studied her color, then handed the Bell back to his cousin. “Very well. Are you ready to go, Rain?"

  Rykarr stayed behind at Jayems’ request as Fallon escorted Rain back to their suite.

  She hesitated at her own door. “Would you mind? I'd like some time to myself for a while.” She was feeling depressed. She hadn't meant to sacrifice her interests like that, and the backlash of emotion wasn't pleasant.

  Fallon looked at her for a long moment. The dynamics had shifted between them in the last twenty minutes. “You're certain?"

  "Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “I want to hang out in my cave for a bit."

  A grave smile curved his mouth, but didn't last. He kissed her. “For a little while."

  She shut the door to her room, alone at last. She'd meant to work on a plan B while she had the time, but found she really was too disheartened to bother. Her emotions had been stressed for so long, it had been hard to really mourn her father. So much adrenaline and fear was bound up within those years that it was painful to look back, to examine the feelings.

  All this time she thought she'd gotten past the worst, and now she discovered she'd yet to really grieve. She was afraid.

  Maybe it helped to feel sorry for herself. Maybe it was a kind of letting go, giving up her dream of justice, but something about tonight's mix of emotions let the tears begin to roll. No one was chasing her. She didn't have to muffle her sobs, choke them off. For once the grief didn't hit her on a crowded bus or subway.

  Once the tears began, they came in a flood. Years of pent up pain came out, years of hiding in the dark, fearing what she was, fearing what hunted her in the night. In a way, she had Fallon to thank for that.

  She'd hurt him tonight; wanted to hurt him. Part of her was angry at him for making her come here, for railroading her into a relationship she wasn't ready for. They were both going to cross some rough roads to get to a place where this marriage he'd started could work. He'd taken advantage of her, but she was to blame, too.

  She hated admitting that, but she was nothing if not fair. Now, they were stuck. She was stuck, because she'd willingly given up her ticket off this planet. For what? To sooth Fallon's fear. Why had she done that?

  Maybe it was because she understood fear. He had been kind to her in his way. Maybe the only thing he felt for her was desire, but he'd been generous about sharing that, too. He didn't make her feel used, just confused. Weak.

  Maybe that's what scared her most of all.

  Fallon returned an hour after he'd left. Though the lights were out, he had no trouble finding her in the moonlit shadows of the couch. He sat beside her on the cushions and traced the tracks of her tears. “Okay, now we try this my way.” He kissed her gently, then scooped her up and headed for the door.

  "Where are you going? I can walk,” she grumped, trying to sit up. She gave up rather easily when he tightened his arms.

  "Humor me. I feel like carrying you.” The Haunt at his door opened it for them, and this time she remembered to hold her breath so she didn't sneeze.

  Fallon set her gently on the bed, then knelt before her, kissed her hand. “Rain? Thank you for laying aside your own desires this once. I promise to remember it, and I hope to return the favor sometime."

  She gave him a lopsided smile. “You think you'll find an opportunity? It's a rather large something."

  He kissed her other hand. “Maybe I'll go for a series of small somethings.” He joined her on the bed and slid his hand behind her head, holding her steady for his kiss. “For now, let me say ‘thank you’ the best way I can."

  "Thank you, huh?” she said dizzily, when he came up for air.

  He skimmed his mouth over hers. “Hm. One of the best advantages of being married. I get to comfort you with my body."

  The man knew aid and comfort, she'd give him that. Their first night together had told her to expect wildness in his bed—this night showed her what comfort was. Every caress spoke empathy, every tender kiss, love. Even if he didn't feel it, that's what came across in his touch. Could a man who made love like that feel nothing?

  Later, she lay drowsing by his side, thinking nothing in particular. Compelled by a sudden urge, she turned her head and placed a kiss on his bare chest. “I l
ove you."

  His body jerked. “Come again?"

  Fallon's reaction made her want to laugh. “I must, you know. Mad as you make me, I haven't kicked you out of bed yet."

  He peered down at her, his brow furling as her shoulders shook. Reassured that she was laughing, he said gruffly, “Well, I am pretty lovable."

  She laughed some more, then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His was serious and tender, a little troubled.

  "I've never been in love before."

  "You're not now,” she stated. “That's all right.” It wasn't, but it had to be said. She wasn't going to force him into any admissions he didn't mean.

  "You're wrong about that. I'm something, but I'm not sure what yet."

  She snorted and settled back down. “Well, wake me up if you figure it out. I've had a hard day."

  His chest rumbled as he chuckled, but he let her sleep through the night.

  * * * *

  The next morning dawned gloomy, and Rain was out of sorts. Fallon was off doing whatever ex-ambassadors did all day.

  What she ought to have been doing was getting to work dumbing down her technology—er, making it more commonly useful. Saving her hide, as a bonus. Instead she moped around, staring out the window, dallying over breakfast, taking a long bath.

  Fallon hadn't been in bed when she awoke. Had she scared him with her talk of love? Well, too bad. He'd seduced her into his bed, he could deal with what it had done to her feelings. It wasn't like she planned to get all sentimental or try to psychoanalyze him or anything. She had enough problems trying to figure out what motivated her.

  Goaded by anger, she strolled to her rooms, holding her breath as she walked past the Haunt guarding the hall and the door to her suite. Once inside, she actually got some work done, but she never really settled. Still edgy, she gulped some of the vile allergy medicine and braved the hall. “I'm gonna go for a walk,” she said defiantly to the Haunt outside. “I need air.” When none of them growled at her, she made good on her idea and walked on, trying to ignore the pair of them trailing behind. Once she'd found a way outside, though, she paused in confusion. She knew that the obstacle course was straight across from her garden wall, but where was she now? Hoping it was the right direction, she chose a path to her left.

  There were a few people on the stone paths, but her surly expression and the Haunt soldiers trailing her must have discouraged conversation, for nobody tried to talk to her. Just as well—she wasn't in the mood for chitchat.

  Once she'd thought it, she suddenly felt lonely. Great. Fallon was mucking with her head now. One more thing to blame on him.

  Maybe it was dumb luck, but her ramblings brought her to the obstacle course. To her dismay, it was swarming with soldiers doing exercises. Even if they'd have welcomed her, she didn't want company. Muttering something foul, she stomped off toward the woods across the way. There looked to be a park off to their right and an orchard beyond that. Maybe by the time she'd done the loop she'd have worn out enough to enjoy a solitary lunch.

  The park was too crowded, though by no means full. She felt exposed as curious eyes tracked her progress. It was as she entered the orchard and achieved the seclusion she'd hoped for that she began to worry, though. Something wasn't right. Shouldn't her bodyguards have said something by now, questioned her choice of wandering in the woods? She half expected someone to appear, ready to chew her out.

  A familiar pain gripped her as the change came over her, lengthening her nails, sharpening her teeth and her senses. This time she rode it out, using her nose to test the wind, blessing the ears that picked up sound unavailable to mere human ears. She stood still, looking, scenting as shiny red fruit swayed gently in the breeze. Something....

  Her guards picked up on her unease and looked around warily. One reached for his dagger ... and she saw it. A hilt just like that, one with a pale blue stone, had been raised to smash into her father's face that night long ago. The memories slammed back like a freight train rushing through her mind, triggering the panic. With an animal snarl, she turned on her heels and ran.

  She was back in the night, alone, afraid, with blood on the wind. The monsters were chasing her, would kill her like they'd killed her father. They were going to get her.

  But nobody ran like Rain. Nobody had ever been able to catch her when she'd started to move, could leap as high, dodge as fast. She might not have all the fur of a full blood, but she had all the speed, plus some. Even so, she didn't dare look back.

  "Trouble! Backup! She just took off like she'd been shot from a gun. Kial's trying to catch her...."

  She heard the words and put on a burst of speed. There were more of them coming now.

  Ahead, she could hear the thunder of a waterfall. Water had saved her last time. She'd used a canoe to steal away, letting the water mask her scent, then docked at a waterfront restaurant and taken a cab to the bus depot, just like she'd planned with her dad. There'd be no bus today, but the water could still take her away. She ran to the head of the waterfall—

  "No!” her guard yelled franticly behind her.

  —and jumped without looking at the landing.

  * * * *

  Fallon paced slowly along the river's edge, staring out over the foaming water. It was only two miles from the waterfall to the mouth of the ocean, but those two miles were half a mile wide and filled with fast, dark water full of boulders. The falls Rain had jumped from were over four stories tall and the pool at the bottom had rocks the size of Volkswagens. Things that went over that fall did not survive the drop. If by some miracle they did, the river rode over them, dragging away any slim chance for life.

  Rain was dead.

  They were combing the banks and boats were braving the swift currents at the ocean's mouth, but it was a formality. Nobody expected to find the body.

  Her guards didn't know what had gone wrong. Kial had almost grabbed her before she'd jumped and had to be saved from overbalancing himself. He and his partner, Brack, were searching obsessively, unwilling to give up. They'd never lost a charge before, and to have a woman die on them like this....

  Fallon looked away from them.

  His companion, Keilor, both Master of Hunt and his cousin, clamped him on the shoulder. “Don't give up yet."

  Fallon just looked at him. Keilor knew the odds. As the commander of Jayems’ armies, he'd seen long odds before, and he'd seen death. Today had brought another one.

  Fallon hadn't expected it to hurt so much.

  "Sir, they've found her!” One of Keilor's soldiers came up, holding a com unit. “One of the fishermen pulled her on board. She's hurt, but alive.” News passed rapidly among the men, resulting in a few scattered cheers.

  Fallon took the com unit like a sleepwalker and held it to his ear. “Hello?"

  "Hello! We've got the lady and we're heading for the docks. We've already got a medic coming to meet us.” There was a spate of cursing in the background, breathless and feminine. There was a pause, then the man said somewhat uncertainly, “She wants me to tell you she's fine."

  "Put her on,” Fallon ordered, relief making him terse. She was alive!

  "Uh, I would, but she's out again."

  Fallon cursed, tossed the unit to the soldier and bolted for his stag beast. The ugly reptile looked like a horse on steroids crossed with a stegosaurus, but it had speed to match its grouchy temperament, and that's what he needed.

  He reached the docks in record time, then had to shove his way through the crowd that had formed as news of the rescue spread.

  The fishermen carefully transferred Rain to the medic's anti-gravity stretcher, wincing as she groaned.

  "Watch that knee,” he advised the medics. “It's the worst."

  "Yes, that one, idiot!” Rain gasped as the medic lightly touched the offender. She dug her nails into his hand, then let go with a groan. She shivered. Her hair was still plastered with salt water and her face held a ghastly pallor. She bit her lip, causing bright beads of blood to well
as they jostled the pallet.

  "Hey, enough of that,” Fallon ordered her, taking her hand as they moved toward the Citadel.

  Her eyes flew open to look at him. “It's not that bad."

  "I see that."

  She tried to smother another groan. “Stupid rocks.” She muttered something incoherent and tossed her head. “That water's cold."

  "Why did you jump?” Fallon's throat was tight. He was afraid of the answer. If she'd tried to deliberately take her life....

  "There was something ... wrong."

  "What?"

  "Wrong.... “she trailed off, breathing shallowly.

  "My lord, later,” one of the medics snapped at him. “Let's make sure she lives, first."

  "Gona live,” Rain muttered, but it was clear she wasn't fully sensible.

  They wouldn't let him inside the operating room, so Fallon paced the lounge. Keilor joined him, keeping silent vigil as they waited for news.

  "Maybe a flashback?” Fallon offered, when upwards of half an hour had crawled by. “She has panic attacks around Haunt."

  While Keilor had not yet met Rain, he'd listened just that morning as Fallon had spilled his guts about his wife. “Maybe."

  "I know Kial and Breck are reliable. I wouldn't have assigned them if they hadn't been."

  "I know."

  "She's not going to die. She's too stubborn to just die.” Fallon looked at Keilor, almost begging.

  He received a glimmer of a smile. “From your description, that's true. I'd focus on what you need to do in the future to prevent these panic attacks, if that's what it was. It's a dangerous habit in someone who can outrun her guard."

  Fallon blew out a breath, still amazed at that. He'd never heard of a woman being able to outrun a fully changed, adult male. If asked, he'd have sworn it couldn't be done.

  He hated learning things about Rain behindhand. All he wanted was a nice, tame married life, yet what he got was fireworks going off under his feet. He certainly couldn't let her keep jumping off cliffs! Yet he didn't want to smother her. There had to be a way to achieve some equilibrium.

  An hour after they'd taken Rain into the ER, a medic came out to get Fallon. “You can see her now,” the medic advised, “but don't make her talk too much, and don't get her upset. She's lost some blood; not enough for a transfusion, but she'll be a little weak. There's a few cuts and bruises, a bump on the back of her head and of course, her knee. Other than that, she's doing remarkably well, considering.” A touch of awe came into his voice. Apparently, Rain's stunt was destined to become legend.

 

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