Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "And handy,” Dorrie observed.

  "When can you obtain the Triso, brother?” Zainabu asked him. “We can not remain long on Ionary."

  "Give me an hour,” Waberi answered. “It will take that long to contact my employees in the pharmacy warehouse. I will send them to your ship with the meds.” He asked where their ship was docked and its name.

  "If you can find out anything about the Serenian ship, it would be of help to us,” Dorrie told Waberi. “Neither of us needs to be going into this with ignorance of the other."

  The dark man nodded. “I see the wisdom in that. I will do what I can,” Waberi replied. “Now, go. The authorities may be watching and I've no desire to be dragged in for questioning again this week!"

  "Do you trust him?” Dorrie asked as she and Zainabu headed back to the Alluvia.

  "As much as any man can be trusted,” Zainabu replied. “Did you see the look in his eye when I mentioned the Prime Reaper?"

  "Aye and I wish you hadn't done that,” Dorrie said.

  "Demissie poses no threat to Cree. He has long since hero-worshipped the Reapers and all for which they stood. He would no more compromise the Prime Reaper than turn himself over to the authorities he fears so deeply.” She smirked. “I never thought to see my brother afraid of anything! It amuses me greatly."

  "Well, I hope his employees aren't prone to being snitches,” Dorrie grumbled.

  "What are snitches?” Zainabu asked.

  "People who tell what they know to the authorities for money or to put themselves beyond liability with the law."

  "Ah,” Zainabu replied. “Such would not be the case of those who work for my brother. He would flay them alive. Trust me."

  Dorrie spied Chanz and Tyrian across the market area from them but did not greet them. The two were haggling with a shopkeeper and were deep in negotiations. She watched a young man walking toward the Alluvia with a box of supplies. Even from a distance, she could see the man's nervousness at having to approach an Amazeen ship.

  "I hope there is no milk in the box he carries,” Zainabu said with a smirk. “It will be butter before he leaves it."

  Dorrie and the Necromani waited until the young man had delivered his goods before heading for the ship. Back onboard, Dorrie could not sit down. She paced from one end of the bridge to the other, chewing on her thumb nail—a nervous habit that wore on Sern's nerves.

  "What ails you, Burkhart?” Sern inquired. She had once tried to delve into the Terran woman's mind only to find it a quagmire of perversity that made her feel unclean. She'd retreated quickly and tried to refrain from going seeking in that marsh again.

  "Zainabu's brother said there were others going after the Reapers on Rysalia Prime.” She turned to look at Sern. “A man named McGregor is their leader."

  "Isn't that the royal house of Serenia?” Aegean asked.

  "Aye, it is,” Dorrie replied.

  "You need to tell the Major,” Aegean said.

  "I will and Cree will need to know, too."

  "If we have help in saving Cree's bloodkin, why should that so concern you?” Sern queried.

  "What if the Daughters know there will be a rescue attempt?” Dorrie asked. “They'll be on high security alert. It will be next to impossible to break the cadets free.” A look of horror sped across her face. “Or to get Kam out of there safely."

  "We have to trust that the goddess will keep Her part of the bargain She made with Cree,” Sern said. “He was promised he could take his men and leave. Remember?"

  Zainabu was following the conversation between the Terran and the Amazeen. She had few dealings with the Multitude and bore as much mistrust of them as did her menfolk but there was one person she did trust and that was the goddess to whom all women of her galaxy owed allegiance.

  "If the goddess made such a promise to Cree, She will make sure it comes to pass,” the Necromanian woman stated. “This I know to be a fact."

  "I hope you're right,” Dorrie said.

  * * * *

  Crouched in the corner of the containment cell, Kamerone Cree had long sense lost the human ability to speak. He was immersed completely in the persona of his bestial self and was beyond listening in to the concerns of the women. His body hurt so badly he could do nothing save whimper. It had been over twenty-four hours since his last intake of Sustenance, two days since Triso had dredged through his veins to calm the agony of the parasite coiling and uncoiling over his right kidney. His savage instincts had been intensified and he was now in a dark, agonizing place that had elevated his body temperature to such heights his blood was boiling in his veins. His fur was soaked, pressed tightly to his heaving flesh and he was hassling as he tried to cool his raging skin. Now and again, he would whine pitifully, his crimson eyes rolling in his head as pain trumpeted through him in wave after unrelenting wave.

  Although his animal persona had taken control of him, his memories were intact and they were hounding him, nipping at his heels as he tried to get away from them.

  * * * *

  "I don't want your excuses, Cree,” she had said, her voice cold.

  They had stared at one another for a long time, and then his words had broken the silence.

  "What is it that you want then?” he had asked her. His heart was breaking for he already knew the answer. He had read it in her mind.

  "I want you to leave."

  The pain had been so much worse than any re-enforcement therapy he had ever undergone. It hurt far worse than any agony ever inflicted upon him. And it had broken his spirit.

  "Where am I to go?” he had whispered, tears filling his eyes. “What am I to do, Bridget?"

  Bridget's words were like pinpricks to his heart. “I don't care where you go or what you do. If you can't go in there and pick up our son, hold our son, I want nothing more to do with you, Kamerone."

  Sorrow welled up in his soul as the memory came back to taunt him. She had cast him from her life, tossed him away as the useless thing he believed himself to be. She had wanted nothing more to do with him.

  Tylan Kahn's face floated through his mind's eye and another memory came flooding back to tear at his heart. They had taken Bridget from him and given her to Kahn...

  "Are you well, milady?” he had asked. His hungry gaze passed over her worried face.

  "Yes,” she had replied in a broken voice, her misery very real and laid bare for any and all to see.

  Cree saw the tears forming and felt like ripping the room apart in his fury. “Has he hurt you?"

  Bridget shook her head. “No. He's been very good to me."

  "Has he.... “Cree could not ask. His attention shifted from his woman to the man standing too near to her. “Did he.... “He swallowed. “I wanted to be sure he had not done anything to you,” was all he could say.

  "What the hell are you implying, Cree?” Kahn had snapped. “What was it you thought I would do?"

  "You know your reputation better than I do, Kahn,” Cree shot back. Their eyes locked and he thought he could see a smirk in the Admiral's. It drove him absolutely insane. “If you have dared use my woman.."

  "Just what do you think you could do about it if I have?"

  * * * *

  Horrendous sorrow swamped Cree's brain and though his tongue could not speak human words, he whined—the only way he had to relieve the mental agony.

  Bridget, he thought, my Bridget.

  Or did she now belong at last to Tylan Kahn?

  The animal within him snarled at the thought of his mate being touched by another male. She was his! Only he had the right to mate with her, care for her. Only he had the right to sow his seed within her.

  A low, keening sound came from the bestial throat. It was a sound of loneliness, hopelessness, and utter misery.

  Chapter Four

  "Is that the ship?” Andeana Ramirez asked the woman walking beside her.

  Lupe Sanchez nodded. “The Alluvia.” She shuddered. “I don't like the looks of it."

  Betw
een the two women, they had two months supply of pharmaceutical-grade Trisomine which they had pilfered from the facility where they worked. Barely escaping being caught by a watchman, they knew they would not be able to return to the warehouse again. Waberi would have to find them new jobs within his organization. They dared not allow themselves to be caught for possession of any amount of Triso was punishable by life-long imprisonment. Being found out might even earn them each a death sentence.

  "We are being followed,” Ramirez said for the fifth time. She glanced behind them but was unable to see their pursuer.

  "You are afraid of your own shadow, Deana,” Sanchez declared. “There is no one behind us."

  "I can feel him,” Ramirez insisted.

  "You are imagining things,” Sanchez told her.

  "Lupe, I am afraid."

  "You are a coward,” Sanchez corrected. “We will finish our task and leave. Stop standing there gawking around as if you expect something to jump out at us!"

  They had reached the Amazeen LRC and Sanchez looked up at the vid-com camera. “We are here to see Zainabu Waberi, sister of Demissie,” she stated.

  "Is anyone watching them?” Sern asked Aegean.

  "None that I can see."

  "Then let them onboard."

  Aegean disengaged the lock on the entry portal, scanning the women as they boarded the ship. Satisfied they carried no weapons she allowed them onto the bridge.

  "We were followed,” Ramirez said as soon as they joined the Amazeens.

  "She doesn't know what she's talking about,” Sanchez bit out. “No one followed us."

  "I think he did,” Deon said, pointing to a man lurking about the docking bay, glancing furtively from time to time toward the Alluvia.

  Ramirez went to a vid-com and leaned toward the screen. “It is Ortega!” she declared, her hand quivering at her throat. “I knew we were being followed!"

  "Who is Ortega?” Sern asked.

  "The security chief of Osana Pharmaceutical,” Sanchez answered. “By the goddess, I didn't see him mincing along behind us, brutish little turd that he is."

  "I told you,” Ramirez said. “I told you we were being followed!"

  "Aye, you did,” Sanchez said on a long sigh.

  "We can't let him arrest us,” Ramirez said, wringing her hands. “He likes to torture people before he turns them over to the authorities."

  "The Major's back,” Aegean reported. “Chanz and Tyrian are with her."

  "Do you have the Triso?” Sern asked.

  "Aye, but you were to give us the money and we were to take it back to Waberi,” Sanchez answered. “If we don't, he'll come after us and...."

  "He will slit our throats!” Ramirez said, whining as though she was about to begin sobbing.

  "I will explain for you,” Zainabu said. She and Dorrie had come on to the bridge together.

  "Sern?” Kahmal inquired, looking up into the vid-com. “Why is the portal locked?"

  With her psychic ability homed in on the Major, Sern silently warned her of the man lurking near the docking bay. She told her the women were there with the Triso but they dared not disembark for fear of being taken into custody.

  "Open the portal and let us in,” Kahmal said. “We'll deal with any subsequent problems once we're on board."

  The lock cycled open and the Major and the two Amazeen warrioresses with her entered the ship. Kahmal came straight to the Com monitor and asked to see the man in question.

  "That one,” Sern pointed out.

  Kahmal turned to the Ionarian women. “Does he know for a certainty you stole drugs from the warehouse?"

  "He could only suspect,” Sanchez replied. “We were careful with what we took. Inventory control won't find it missing for at least a week. We don't dare go back."

  "You couldn't have been too careful or the bastard wouldn't have followed you,” Kahmal stated.

  "If he even suspects we took Triso,” Ramirez said, shuddering, “our lives are forfeit."

  "How much did you bring with you?” Kahmal asked.

  "Two months supply,” Sanchez answered

  "We only paid him for one month,” Kahmal stated. “Why did he send two?"

  "Waberi said the second month was his gift to the man who needed it,” Sanchez explained.

  "Did he tell you who it was for?” Zainabu asked.

  Sanchez shook her head. “No, milady. We didn't want to know."

  Kahmal tucked her lower lip between her teeth. “The electronic supplies should be here shortly. We can't leave until we have what we need."

  "What's to become of us?” Ramirez asked. Her hands were tumbling over and over one another in her agitation.

  "These women can't leave the ship. If the security agent scans these women, he'll find traces of the Triso on them,” Sern warned. “He'll know they brought it to us and inform the authorities we have the med."

  "Then we'd better come up with a plausible reason for these women to stay onboard the Alluvia,” Dorrie said.

  "What plausible reason?” Sern inquired.

  "We're dead meat,” Ramirez whined.

  "We won't let that happen,” Kahmal said. “Open a line to Tobora Electronics, Deon."

  * * * *

  Jose Ortega lifted his foot and placed it on the base of the stanchion by which he was standing. Taking out his handkerchief, he bent down to swipe at a smudge on the toe of his highly shined boot, making sure he kept a keen eye on the Amazeen ship that Sanchez and Ramirez had boarded. He had only his suspicions that the women were up to no good. Ramirez had been acting strangely, turning to look behind her every few minutes, as she and Sanchez left the warehouse for their noonday meal. Now considering where they had gone, he was convinced the women were guilty of something. What were the two doing on an Amazeen ship of all places?

  A quartet of deliverymen walked past where Ortega was standing, all heading for the ship in question. He reached out to the last man. “Who are you with?” he asked.

  The deliveryman recognized the security man. “Tobora Electronics, milord,” the man answered, fear of Ortega hovering in his pale gray eyes. “We are providing components for the Amazeen ship's duplicator."

  "And where is the ship bound?” Ortega asked, his beady eyes narrowing.

  "They are on their way to Rysalia Prime for the Feast of Alluvial,” the man replied, relaying what his manager had told him to say should they be stopped for any reason.

  "They stopped here to pick up Daughters wishing to attend the Feast. You know how it is with the Multitude and their silliness."

  "Aye, silliness is just what it is,” Ortega said and motioned the man on his way. He stared at the Amazeen ship as the deliverymen handed over the equipment to two tall women with fierce expressions. Deciding Sanchez and Ramirez were even more stupid than he thought to follow the dictates of a bizarre cult, he turned and sauntered away, cursing himself for wasting time. He made a mental note to see the women were fired summarily for traipsing off to some ridiculous female celebration.

  * * * *

  "I don't know if it is wise to do this,” Kahmal said as Dorrie loaded the vac-syringe. “Going into the cell with him...."

  "He won't hurt me,” Dorrie said. She held the vac-syringe up and flicked the glass barrel with her middle finger. “I'm not afraid of him."

  Kahmal walked with her to the elevator that would take them down to the cargo hold and the containment cell. She glanced at Dorrie out of the corner of her eye. “Was it love at first sight for you, Burkhart?” she asked. “Have you always loved him?"

  Dorrie snorted. “Not gods-be-damned likely,” she said and thought of the first time she'd come into contact with Kamerone Cree. “I believe the first words I ever said to him were we are going to restrain you now."

  "I would imagine he did not like that."

  "Hated it,” Dorrie said. “We tortured him that day. There was no other way to describe what we did.” She shrugged. “At first, I was impersonal about it. Hell, it was my jo
b and I hated the Rysalians and especially the Reapers—Kamerone Cree being right at the top of my list but then.... “She stopped as the elevator settled and the doors shushed open.

  "But then?” Kahmal questioned.

  "Then I saw him cry,” she said softly and preceded the Amazeen from the elevator.

  "Seeing him cry bothered you?” Kahmal pressed.

  "It was the sixth morning of his stay in the Be-Mod unit,” Dorrie said. “He actually told me good morning and that shocked me.” She stopped, looking down at the vac-syringe. “He had been in there longer than any patient we'd ever had and Bridie had slipped behind the director's back and given him a sedative because he hadn't slept in five days. I think by then all of us were feeling a bit protective of him."

  "Why?” Kahmal asked. “After all, he was a Reaper. Such treatment was normal for him wasn't it?"

  "Not at the hands of a woman,” Dorrie said. She twisted the vac-syringe, watching the play of the overhead lights on the glass barrel. “No woman had ever hurt him before. No woman had ever dared.” She closed her eyes. “We almost lost him that day. He flat lined. He needed Triso and I went after it for him."

  "Against orders?"

  Dorrie nodded. “I could have been hanged if they'd caught me but at that point I didn't care. He was so helpless, so grateful for even the smallest hint of kindness we gave him that it tore at my heart.” She sighed. “I gave him the Triso and Bridie stayed with him because he didn't want her to leave him. As I walked away, I realized I was beginning to have feelings for him that I shouldn't. From then on my hand lingered longer and longer on his body when I was helping take care of him."

  "Mayhap he spread a glamour over you,” Kahmal suggested. “Sent you a subliminal."

  "No, he was too weak for such things and the neuroinhibitors flooding his system would not have allowed it. He was unable to send any kind of enthrallment our way."

  They made their way to the door of the containment cell.

  "I will always regret having hurt him as I did by going after him,” Kahmal said, staring at the door to the con cell.

  "I hurt him badly once,” Dorrie said. “Cut him right to the quick."

  "How?"

  Dorrie's eyes brightened with unshed tears. “When he was in the Be-Mod unit, there were sublims being fed to him. Sublims to make him need Bridie, to fall in love with her so he would aid the Resistance. I told him about them."