Terran Realm Vol 1-6

by Dee, Bonnie

  Gabe was different.

  They were Terrans and they had a responsibility, a destiny to fulfill.

  “Holy Mary.” Ethan’s whisper drew her back to the task at hand. He examined the wound with awe, touching it gingerly. He looked up at Brigid. “Look at the flesh. It could be, should be raw and angry, but it’s not. It looks like it’s been treated with some incredible wonder drugs.” He flexed his shoulder. “That should hurt like bloody hell, but it doesn’t. I think I can raise my arm…”

  “Don’t. Don’t overdo it. Let me refresh the compress and bind it up again and put the sling back on.”

  “Fine, then.”

  Brigid leaned over him, her hair swinging in front of his face. He spoke in low tones, his voice like deep, sweet dark chocolate. “Do you remember that day by the falls? You knelt at my feet and laved every inch of my body with your tongue. You held me in your mouth and cupped me in your hands and…” He stopped and grabbed her hand. “You’re trembling. Why?” He dropped her hand, grasped her chin and raised her face to his. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. His fingers caressed her cheek and captured a tear as it trickled down her skin. “My bright love.”

  And he drew her lips towards his as she gazed mesmerized into his eyes. “Yes, my love, my bright love. Yes. Kiss me.” He pressed his thumb to the seam of her closed lips and opened it. “Now. Kiss me now.”

  She closed her eyes. The breath shuddered in her body.

  And she slowly pulled away.

  She straightened up and looked down at him. “I could learn to hate you. Please don’t do that again.”

  Ethan shut his eyes and looked away. “Forgive me, please. I…” He took a deep breath. “Just forgive me. Please, take care of the shoulder. I’ll try to control myself.”

  With his head turned away from her, Brigid quickly redid everything. She scooped up Gabe’s shirt and held it out to Ethan, then shook her head. “Perhaps we should wait for Gabe to help you with it?”

  “Aye, that might be a better idea.”

  “I think I’ll go down to the dining room and check out the menu. I’ll meet you guys there.”

  She tossed the shirt on the bed near him and left the room and Ethan as he sat, the shirt gripped in his hand.

  * * * *

  “Where’s Brigid?”

  “She went to the dining room. Shit! Help me with this damn thing!” The offending garment lay halfway on Ethan’s torso, twisted beneath him.

  “Like this, man.” Gabe pulled the bunched-up material out from under. “Can you stretch out your arm at all? I can slide it up then and you can wear it buttoned.”

  Ethan looked up at Gabe. “I don’t know. Brigid didn’t want me to move it.”

  “She didn’t want to hurt you.” He shrugged. “I don’t care as much. If you can straighten it out even a little, it should do. I’ll take off the sling.”

  With the sling off, Ethan slowly unbent his arm, wincing as he stretched it out.

  “That’s enough. Now, this way you won’t give Mrs. Cochran a heart attack.”

  Gabe slid the right sleeve up first, then quickly maneuvered the left. He buttoned the shirt and replaced Ethan’s sling. “There.”

  “Thanks, man. Feels grand.” Ethan paused, then shook his head, a rueful grin on his face. “Damn, if it weren’t for Brigid…”

  “We could be pals?” Gabe laughed. “I don’t know. You’re a pretty sorry son of a bitch.”

  “Aye, but I know all of U2’s songs.”

  Gabe looked bewildered. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Ethan laughed. “At least you couldn’t use my taste in music as an excuse to kill me. Let’s join Brigid in the dining room. I’ve a great hunger.” He rose and went to the door. “You coming?”

  “I’ll be there in a while. I’m going to try to get KOTE.”

  “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

  *

  Gabe looked at the closed door and took a deep breath. He had come out of the hall bathroom just as Brigid rushed down the stairs at the other end. He almost went after her, but decided to confront Ethan instead.

  He smelled her perfume on him. Ethan had been only half-dressed when he’d gotten back. How long did it take to change a bandage?

  What the hell had they been doing?

  He swore under his breath. He was going crazy. And the damn thing was Ethan was right. If it weren’t for their feelings for Brigid, they might be friends.

  But there she was.

  He flipped open his phone and punched in the code that connected him with Donovan Callahan’s private number.

  “I’m not available right now. Since you have this number, you have top clearance. Please enter a text message outlining your situation and any contingency plans you have formulated to solve this concern in the event that assistance is not immediately forthcoming. If you have not received a response within twelve hours, please proceed with your plan. Code Talisman is still in effect.”

  Tamping down the urge to throw the phone across the room. Gabe quickly entered the necessary information and ended the call.

  They couldn’t wait twelve hours for Callahan’s response. With a Code Talisman in place, he was the only one they were supposed to contact. He sighed. Here was where the respect that Callahan engendered in his fellow Terrans came into play.

  If he thought you merited his trust and faith, he relied upon your ability to think on your own and do the right thing.

  Now to see if Brigid and Ethan agreed with the plan he’d come up with while he’d showered.

  He checked to make sure he had his room key and locked the door.

  His appetite had suddenly left him.

  * * * *

  Nolen gazed around as he drove to the Kerry airport. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh breeze. The blue sky was as clear as the crystal bowl containing the fluichari. He shifted smoothly and admired his motoring skills.

  He knew he was a better driver than Gortham.

  His stomach rumbled.

  He’d built up a hearty appetite from the morning’s activities. Since he was ahead of schedule, he’d taken a moment to dine at a fine, private restaurant for breakfast. Well off the beaten track, it was one of the cottage restaurants run by couples that offered the best homegrown foods in a homelike setting.

  He’d used his Speaker ability to send the two other diners away and forget his presence, making them think the place was closed.

  And giving him the owners’ exclusive attention.

  He’d lingered over freshly churned butter and hot, fragrant rolls. Tasted smoked salmon caught in the couple’s own lake. Accompanied by perfectly poached eggs laid by the restaurant’s chickens, and chives fresh and green from the garden, the meal was the best he’d had in years. Even better than Mrs. Scathan’s cooking.

  Cups of coffee made from beans just ground, were refilled as soon as they looked empty. He sighed remembering.

  What a delight.

  It was still early even after the meal, so he decided to offer a sacrifice to Ba’al before he continued his trip.

  He’d slit the husband’s throat first, intoning the proper ritual. The man had taken him out to the barn to admire his cows, giving him a perfect place for his first kill.

  The short sickle he’d concealed made quick work of slicing the man’s throat. He’d gone back into the kitchen and strangled the cook before the pimply-faced youth had been able to make a sound.

  The wife was next, after he bound and fucked her.

  The fires were easily set and made a merry blaze as he drove away. What a shame those old houses were so likely to catch on fire and that it spread so quickly.

  All in all, an excellent morning and one that whetted the appetite.

  He checked his watch. He’d arrive in Kerry in plenty of time to have some lunch before the plane took off. And Kerry had some wonderful restaurants. He knew. He’d looked them up on the Internet.

  And soon, he’d be in London and then New Yor
k. Where there truly was fine dining.

  And anything else to satisfy his hunger.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Cochran served thick slabs of rhubarb crumble with lashings of clotted cream on Irish-made crockery. Sliced tomatoes and cucumber finger sandwiches were placed on another plate. Strong tea and cream sat in little pots on the table.

  Ethan closed his eyes and sighed. “Heaven. I can’t remember the last time I ate such grand crumble.”

  Mrs. Cochran’s keen ears caught his words and she brought over another platter of dessert and then paused by the table. “Ah, the poor lad. Eat up. I’ll bring out some more clotted cream.”

  Ethan grabbed her hand and kissed it causing the poor woman to redden. Taking advantage of the moment, he queried her. “Ah, Mrs. Cochran, we were wondering if you’d heard anything about that terrible accident at the airfield.”

  “Oh, aye. They’re still sifting through the rubble, my nephew said.”

  “Nephew?” Brigid looked up from her tea.

  “Aye, he’s in the garda.” She bent closer and looked around the empty dining room. “They’re saying now that they only found two bodies. One was poor Liam O’Reilly, but they only found the pilot in the plane wreckage. There should have been another one.” She winked. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

  She moved off, leaving the three with their worst fears realized.

  Nolen had somehow managed to escape.

  Suddenly, no one had the stomach for more food.

  * * * *

  They trudged upstairs in silence, heading into Brigid and Gabe’s room.

  “Now what?” Brigid asked as she threw herself onto the bed.

  “Where’s the nearest airport?” Gabe asked.

  Ethan rose. “Let me get my laptop. I already downloaded all that information earlier. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Gabe spoke as soon as the door closed behind Ethan. “Did you kiss him?”

  Brigid turned, startled. “What are you talking about?”

  Gabe moved to where Brigid lay on the bed. “I smelled your perfume on him.”

  She sighed. “I can’t believe it. You’re an idiot. Of course Ethan had my scent on him.” She rose from the bed and stood in front of him. “I had to get close to change the dressing.” She took another step until her breasts just brushed his chest. She pressed her hand against his heart and looked up at him, her voice low and seductive. “But I never got this close.”

  He groaned and his arm snaked around her waist as he attacked her mouth, bruising her lips. He cupped her ass and brought her closer to his groin. They swayed together in the middle of the room, oblivious of their surroundings.

  He pulled his mouth from hers and cradled her face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over the fullness of her cheeks. “You’re right. I am an idiot. But, Bridge, I’m so much older than you.” She made to speak and he hushed her. “You don’t realize yet how long-lived we are.” He took a deep breath. “I’m over a hundred years old.”

  Brigid laughed and grabbed his ass. “That’s one fine butt you have for an old codger.” She paused, growing thoughtful. “I think, if anything, being a Terran throws the entire concept of age out the window.” She touched his crotch and fondled his burgeoning erection. “You are an incredible lover. Even when I first came to live with you, you never treated me like I was a stupid child.” She drew his face down to hers. “Why start now?” She took a deep breath. “You know I love you.”

  She kissed him, her lips brushing his, their breaths mingling.

  His mouth drifted to her eyes, her cheeks and the soft spot behind her ear. He whispered, “And I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

  “Found it.” Ethan’s exuberant voice broke them apart as he entered the room holding his laptop aloft. “Cochran had put the harp on top of the backpack.” He looked at Gabe and Brigid. “Anything going on?”

  “Not a thing.” Gabe gestured to the small antique desk set in front of the window. “Set the laptop over there. Let’s see if we can find an airport nearby that offers connections to larger ones. If we can figure out his next step, maybe we can find out his final destination.”

  “Good idea,” Ethan said.

  They gathered around the rectangular screen. Ethan pulled up the website he’d found that listed various sized airports and private airfields in Ireland. Brigid jotted down their options as they discussed the pros and cons of each.

  “That’s it.” Gabe ran tired fingers through his hair. “I think our best bet is south of here at the Kerry airport for connecting flights to London and Europe. It’s not that far and I don’t think he’d backtrack. There are two flights later today that he can still make. The other larger airports have too many people that he’d have to control and too much security.”

  “So,” Ethan said. “We call up the airport and do what? Ask if a power-crazed ancient Terran who looks like Christopher Lee and has a wounded eye has booked a flight to London? Or Malaga? Or where?”

  Gabe laughed and shook his head. “We take a break, get in the car and…”

  “Drive to Kerry,” Brigid finished.

  Ethan grinned. “Should have known.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  1st May—Late morning

  Nolen preened before the mirror in the cottage he owned in Kerry. He had safe houses like it all over Ireland. From some he gained additional income as vacation homes for visiting tourists. Others served as temporary retreats for his colleagues from the drug trade.

  Might as well garner money rather than leave them empty until or if he needed them.

  The Kerry cottage had always been intended for his personal use alone. It was well stocked with his favorite wines and liquors, as well as a pantry chock full of the finest gourmet foods. The freezer and refrigerator contained enough perishables to stock a three-star restaurant. All waiting for the possibility of his arrival.

  What a shame he’d never return to it after today.

  Ah, well. So it goes.

  No servants had been there to greet him. The caretaker who made sure the furniture was dusted and removed any spoiled food, was the only one who came to the cottage and he wasn’t expected until the following week.

  So, no meal catered specifically to his exquisite palate. But then, no curious eyes to see his preparations for his new life.

  He chuckled. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” He blew a kiss to his image.

  “Why, you are, of course.”

  Staring back at him was the voluptuous figure of an elegant female in her late fifties. His cloaking spell augmented by an exquisitely coiffed wig and feminine clothing had transformed him into a polished, professional woman of a certain age. He gingerly touched his puckered eye socket and cursed the bitch responsible for it. He took a deep breath and slipped on a pair of designer sunglasses that would help shield most of the damage. Fortunately, his exquisite sense of style had supplied the latest fashion eyewear for his new persona. The make-up downplayed most of the damage on his cheek and he’d only need to take off the glasses when he dealt with the brief procedure necessary to match his photo identification. Otherwise, the glasses remained on.

  It was the perfect cover and one he could maintain with little energy.

  Thus, Enola Hadjidakis, antique dealer and private appraiser, would be jetting off to England later today and thence to New York.

  He placed his well-manicured fingers on his Chanel-clad hips and laughed out loud. Now, the only thing he’d have to worry about was whether some rich, American businessman might mistake him for Joan Collins.

  And he could deal with that.

  He pulled on a pair of fashionable driving gloves, making sure his temporary prosthetic finger was in place, slipped on a pair of spectator pumps and collected his set of matching luggage packing them in the boot of the car. He placed a stylish leather case holding a new laptop, complete with his downloaded information, on the front passenger seat. The crated artifacts, i
ncluding the crystal bowl containing his captives, were already in the back of the car. His old clothes lay hidden beneath the floorboard in the main bedroom. He went back into the cottage one more time to double check. Nothing remained to indicate that anyone other than a female had occupied the house.

  He tossed a light jacket over his shoulders and sauntered out the door. Time for a little snack before departure time at the airport. A reservation had been made at The Kerry Dances, one of the top restaurants in Ireland. And one in which he held a share of the business through one of his dummy corporations.

  He was looking forward to a fresh prawn cocktail before he bade farewell to his prison of the past several centuries.

  * * * *

  Ethan took a moment to admire his room in the Bed and Breakfast that the innkeeper in Clare had recommended. Cozy and comfortable, it was a carbon copy of the one they’d just left, even the rooms and the loo at the end of the hall looked the same. He looked up as a thud from the room above reminded him that Brigid’s room was above him. Again.

  He sighed with frustration. Might as well begin his new regime. He slipped off his sling and slowly straightened out his arm. He winced as the skin around the wound stretched. He raised his hand, gasping as he continued to extend his arm despite the pain. Taking a deep breath, he brought the arm straight out to the side. His breath hitched.

  “Shit!” He shut his eyes and panted, then gritted his teeth and continued his range of motion exercises.

  He’d found a site that offered routines to increase his strength and had dived right into them. Memorizing the procedures hadn’t been difficult.

  Damned if he was going to remain dependent on Gabe.

  What else could he do to carry his weight?

  They needed to find out whether Nolen had booked a seat on either of the two airlines leaving the airport and they had to get that information without drawing attention.

  How?

  Gabe said he had a plan, but the way things had been going for them, he figured there’d better be a backup one available.

  More and more of his Singer abilities were returning. One thing he knew he could do was to influence the minds of humans and Terrans alike. If Gabe’s ideas didn’t work, he would be prepared.