“Release her!” Talmshone crashed his fist into Trazar’s face, throwing him back again. This time the chokehold broke, the binding sliding from Cance’s neck before eternity and Brandoff won. Talmshone pulled her to the side, clearing the path between himself and the sentry commander. “You wish to fight?” He waved a talon at Trazar. “Fight another man, not a Taelach. I will shred you with my bare hands.”
“I’ve skinned Iralian snakes before and welcome the chance to do so again!” Trazar lunged at Brandoff’s neglected knife. Talmshone reached the blade first and sank it through Trazar’s extended hand, pinning him to the floor.
“Tit for tat.” Talmshone extended his wounded palm as evidence. “Slice me and I slice you back.”
“My turn next.” Cance aimed between Trazar’s eyes. “I’m going to send you to a hell so deep your own whoring mother won’t be able to reach you!” Cance squeezed the palm trigger, anticipating a glorious ending to Brandoff’s killer. Nothing happened.
“Damn you, Brannie!” Cance discarded the weapon and all tender thoughts of Brandoff. “You never listened to a fuckin’ thing I said. This bow was to be charged two days ago!” Cance jerked the weapon from Brandoff’s arm, lashed it on, and aimed again between Trazar’s eyes. “Don’t think you’ll get that lucky twice.”
“Cance, stop.” Talmshone blocked the distance between them. “Think about what you are doing.”
“Outta my way. This is a family matter. Justified restitution. I’ll shoot you too if you don’t back off.”
Talmshone refused to move. “Yes, it is indeed a family matter. Have you noticed the resemblance between this Autlach and the young Taelach you seem to hold dear?”
“I don’t care if they’re brother and sister. He dies!”
“My point exactly. They are siblings,” he said. “If you will look closely you can just see the crimps of his service braid. The man is military.”
“So what? You’re wasting time. Move!”
“Your eyesight won’t allow you to pilot, so who is going to pilot the launch we plan to escape in?”
“Brandoff wi—” Cance stopped as Talmshone’s logic sank in. “Can he pilot?”
Talmshone pushed Cance’s bow aside and jerked Trazar’s ponytail loose from its band. “I believe so.” He pulled a strand tight. “These are not curls. They are from an eight-plat half hitch. He is pilot qualified.”
“You win.” Cance downloaded her bow, then retrieved the cording Trazar had used. “Behave yourself, sentry, or I’ll vent my frustrations on your delicious sister.”
Talmshone took the cord and bound Trazar’s wrists before he removed the imbedded knife. “Get up. We have business to attend to.” He belted the blade then pushed Trazar toward the second room. “I suppose your friends got to about here.” Talmshone peeked around the corner and gave his captives a toothsome grin. “Correct. They are indeed present. I believe this completes the reunion.”
Cance squinted. “They’re untied.” She spun on one heel, kicking Starnes in the face. The blow threw him from the chair and he fell, howling, onto his blackened shoulder. “Was it you who brought in the sentry?” Her next kick was for Bane. The old man reeled back but remained upright and silent. “Or, was it you somehow, old man?”
“It wasn’t either of us.” Bane’s mouth bled heavily. “Kick the girl like that and it’ll kill her.”
“She won’t be kicked. I have other plans for her.” Cance sank to the floor and pressed her knees into LaRenna’s sides in the same controlling move Brandoff had done on the bar. “The more I think it over, girl, the surer I am it was you. After all, he is your brother.” Cance leaned forward. “Smart girl, getting your Aut brother to off Brandoff. She was becoming quite the pain where you’re concerned. He merely saved me the inconvenience. Problem is, now I’m all alone.” Her mouth curled into something near a pout. “And I really, really hate being alone.” Cance twisted the end of LaRenna’s hair around her finger, each twirl further diverting her anger to desire. “It’s time we talk of commitment. Oath to me now and I’ll show you things you’ve only dreamed of. You will rule Langus with me, be my heart’s only desire.” Cance kissed her forehead and drew her chin up until their eyes met. “I really am a gentle creature when given the respect I deserve. What say you, my sweet little sister? Shall we speak the words?”
“You’re no sister of mine!” LaRenna spat in her captor’s face.
Cance reared back to punish the misbehavior but stopped short of it, humor smoothing her callused features. “You know,” she said, wiping away the spittle, “I would have done the very same thing. We’d be a good pair, you and I.”
“No.” LaRenna shook her head. “We’re nothing alike. I would never forsake the Kinship.”
Cance fell forward, so close her chest pushed painfully into LaRenna’s ribs. Her face was devoid of emotion. It was Brandoff’s cold look and Brandoff’s voice hissing in her ear, Brandoff’s form pressing her down and pulling her head back by the hair. “You will keep a well-mannered tongue and learn when and where not to speak. You’re my property. Do you hear that? Mine!” Cance forced rough kisses on LaRenna’s face and neck until LaRenna wriggled free enough to slap her.
“You might as well kill me, you branded bitch,” she wailed. “Because I will never, NEVER be yours in any way. Not of my own free will. No amount of violence or drug can convince me anything about you is right.” LaRenna spat at Cance again. “Slow death is preferable to spending one more second with you. Fuck off!”
“I believe the young woman dislikes your company.” Talmshone glanced through the window at the approaching first dawn. “Time grows short. We must keep our schedule.”
“Screw you and your schedules! It’s time I teach my new bride about obedience!” Cance tore off LaRenna’s blanket and remaining underskirts. “This is what happens when you mouth off, girl. I command respect and I will get it each and every time.” LaRenna mustered her strength to roll from beneath Cance, landing, gasping, a few inches away. Cance grabbed her, dragging her back to the pallet. “A filthy mouth prompts filthy actions. Take your punishment and learn from it.”
“NOOO!” LaRenna fought to keep the second assault from occurring. She kicked with her good leg, trying to throw Cance’s phaseless blows off balance. Trazar fought against Talmshone, desperate to come to his sister’s aid. The Iralian pinned him to his seat with a solid hand to his shoulder then did the same to Bane, gripping the old man’s shoulder so tight it audibly cracked. A mere turn of his flaring red eyes kept Starnes at bay.
“I do not condone this unfortunate incident, gentlemen,” he said. “But if you interfere, Cance will kill you all out of pure rage and I will be without transportation home.”
“Damn you!” Cance pressed her hand to LaRenna’s throat. “When will you learn?” LaRenna growled her response, striking Cance with her splinted hand. Cance grabbed her outstretched arm and pulled, sending searing pain down LaRenna’s side. “Very well, a proper lesson it shall be.” She pulled a second and third time. “Rule one, the harder you fight, the rougher I become.” LaRenna screeched as Cance repeated the process with her other arm. “Shut up, LaRenna Cances.”
“I’ll never be known as yours!”
Cance twisted LaRenna’s right breast. “I said shut your fuckin’ hole!”
“Never!”
Cance released the bruising pinch, doubled her fist, and smashed it into LaRenna’s abdomen. LaRenna’s eyes rolled back, but she still wriggled to get free.
“Stop it!” cried Trazar. “You’re killing her!”
“She just wishes I would.” Cance bashed LaRenna again. “Isn’t this how you Auts treat your wives? Or is it this?” Cance brought her knee up, ramming it into LaRenna’s crotch until she ceased moving. “Rule two, LaRenna, always, always obey me.”
“No one should be treated like that.” Bane pulled the hidden dagger, plunging it into Cance’s shoulder. “The lady said no!”
Talmshone plucked him up by the
scruff of the neck and held him suspended midair. “Now where were you hiding that?”
Cance sprang up, took a controlled breath, and removed the imbedded blade. “It takes more than that to stop me, old man.” She peered down at LaRenna, whose breaths had become ragged. “Lesson complete, my love.” Cance traced LaRenna’s side with her toe. “Time we made things official.” She laid her hand onto her shoulder, then to LaRenna’s right shoulder, leaving a perfect red palm print. “There.” Cance cleaned the blade and passed it to Talmshone, who belted it beside Brandoff’s blade. “That’ll lay my claim until I have my symbol inked on you.”
“No . . .” LaRenna never opened her eyes.
“She even defies you in catatonia,” observed Talmshone. “What about the Autlach senior?” He held Bane out a second time. “I am not a cloak hook.”
“Break the fucker in half.” Cance watched as the Iralian squeezed Bane’s frail neck until it cracked.
“Done.” Talmshone tossed the remains into a corner. “Next?”
“I’ll take care of Starnes.” Cance centered an intense stare on the cringing barman, anger and frustration venting into her phase. Its powerful broadcast caused LaRenna to shriek, Starnes screeching discord with her cry. Cance pared the phase until it excluded her fairer hostage then held it, toying Starnes’s mind into insanity. He rocked back and forth, babbling incoherently.
“You are going to leave him in that manner?” asked Talmshone.
“Does it bother you, scaly?” Cance grinned at him as she drew her blade across Starnes’s throat. “I’m done. Let’s go.”
“Not yet.” Talmshone’s disapproving expression lingered. “How are we moving the girl?”
“We’re not.” Cance undid Trazar’s bindings. “Get your sister ready to move. Attempt to run or engage me, Commander, and I’ll do all the nasty things I can think of to her. TWICE!”
Trazar moved to LaRenna’s side. “She needs clothes.”
Talmshone rifled through Starnes’s clothing cubicle, pulling out a knit sleep shirt. “This will have to do. There are no clean leggings.”
“They wouldn’t fit anyway,” said Cance. “Put it on her.” She tossed a strip of torn underskirt to Talmshone. “Bandage your hand.” She tore two more strips and folded a panel of the remaining material into a tight roll. “Hurry up, sentry. We haven’t got all day!” Cance tossed the rags to Trazar. “Put that roll where it’ll catch her bleeding. Sick enough it’s all over my knee, but I won’t have her staining up my craft.”
“We are more likely to succeed if we proceed separately.” Talmshone descended the stairs. “I am going.”
“So are we.” Cance passed Trazar a blanket that he wrapped around LaRenna and scooped her up. “Stick to the side streets and go directly to the terminal. Anyone stops us, we’re taking your sister to a healer. I’ll have my bow in your back the entire way. Slip up and I’ll set you both ablaze.”
Trazar nodded and stepped into the crisp morning air. First dawn was fading.
Talmshone waved back at Cance. “I shall meet you there.” He drifted into the shadows, leaving little in the way of tracks.
Cance pulled back the blanket, kissed LaRenna on the forehead, then pushed Trazar forward, steering him toward a lessertraveled street. “Good thing you dropped in,” she told him as they walked. “Now I have both a pilot and a porter.”
“Lucky you.” Trazar trudged ahead, protecting LaRenna from jarring movements while ignoring Cance’s insults. “You’ve given it your all,” he whispered in his sister’s ear again and again. “Whatever you do, don’t stop now, Renna. Don’t stop now.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taelach vengeance is slow in coming but smothering and complete upon arrival.
—Autlach saying
Krell paced the dozen odd lengths between the nearest dune and where Firman and Tatra stood, her angst growing with every turn. Twice, she had heard LaRenna’s voice on the morning breeze. Twice, Krell’s companions had heard nothing.
“Where is she?” Tatra peered up at Firman through her windblown hair. Krell’s concerns, usually the point of irritation, were beginning to develop merit. “She’s long overdue. The Predator won’t wait forever.”
“It’ll wait until we get there,” snapped Krell. “Who’s going to pilot the launch, you?” Her nausea still lingered. “Come on, LaRenna.”
Firman placed his hand on her shoulder. “Be patient, sis.”
“I shouldn’t have let her go. She’s in trouble. I know it. I feel it.”
“LaRenna can handle herself. She proved that at the Hiring Hall. Have faith. Give her until full sunrise.” They stood in silence until the sounds of fighting rose from the base.
Krell turned toward the sound. “Time’s up, Firman. Take Tatra to the launch. I’m going after LaRenna.” She dropped her bag and LaRenna’s beside Firman’s and dashed up the stone embankment toward the Commons.
“Wonderful, just wonderful!” Tatra stamped her foot. “A ship’s coming for us and Krell takes off for Mother knows where.”
Firman grumbled under his breath and looked toward the Commons. “You know the way to the launch, don’t you?”
“Of course I do! What kind of a fool do you think I am?”
“You really want an honest answer to that?” He pushed the luggage toward her and scrambled up the path.
“Where are you going?” she cried. “Who’s going to carry the bags? Krell told you to take me to the launch.”
“Krell is my sibling, not my superior. Carry the bags yourself. I’m going to help find LaRenna.”
“Uh!” Tatra stood, hands on her hips, swearing at Firman as he disappeared into the ocean fog. “Nobody ever thinks about my needs.” She gathered the baggage and made her way to an easier side trail that led to the Commons, her spiked heels sinking in the sand as she walked. “I hate the Middle family,” she sobbed. “I hate Kimshees and most of all, I hate playing porter to someone else’s stinking luggage!”
Firman caught up with Krell halfway across the Commons. She ran the main streets, cloak and braids streaming behind her. “Don’t try to stop me,” she called back. “I promised to watch out for her.”
“I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” Firman dodged a wide-eyed, basket-toting Autlach woman who crossed his path. “I want to help.” They ran until the Waterlead came into view.
“Here.” Krell slapped a small blaster into his hand.
“That’s my Krell,” teased Firman, the seriousness of the situation momentarily lost in his panting jester’s grin, “Always ready. We going to going to walk right in there?”
“We are. Take the back?”
“You bet.” He edged around the building, signaling when he was in position. Krell waved back and approached the main entrance, mumbling suspicions when she found the front door unlocked. Cautiously, bowed arm in a firing posture, she pushed it open.
The main dining room was scattered with overturned tables and chairs. Firman burst in from the kitchen area as Krell fingered a large smear of blood and fluids on the bar counter. “I don’t like this, Fir.” She held up her hand. “She’s been hurt.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” he replied. “LaRenna may be the one who caused that spot. There’s nobody in the back, but the storeroom is a wreck. Stinks like someone’s been sick.” Firman watched his sibling touch the marks clawed into the counter’s pass-through end. “Probably just the scars of a drunken brawl. Did you check the downstairs facilities?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll do it.” He stepped inside the small room and quickly retreated. “Come look.” Krell stepped in and out in the same manner, her mouth covered to ward off the stench.
“Know him?” asked Firman through pinched nostrils.
Krell nodded then exhaled to keep her gut reactions at bay. “His name’s Russ. He waited tables at the Food Plaza. Wonder how he’s involved.” Krell considered the possible relationship for a few seconds then gave up with a shrug. “We n
eed to check upstairs. Back me up?”
“Yeah, just a sec.” Firman picked up a small hide belt from the floor. “Isn’t this LaRenna’s?”
“I’m afraid it is. Merciful Mother, what’ve they done to her?”
Firman startled at the fear in Krell’s voice. This wasn’t the woman he knew. Krell was solid and unyielding, a dedicated military officer and Kimshee. She never showed her deeper emotions, especially in times of distress—or did she? Was LaRenna already that imbedded in Krell’s mentality? “If I know LaRenna, she’s probably at the beach as we speak, cursing you for leaving her alone with Tatra.” He followed Krell up the treads, grimacing when he saw the charred door.
Krell checked the rear of the apartment while Firman examined the body in the front room. He was covering it with a blanket when Krell reentered with the remains of LaRenna’s bloodstained underskirt.
“This one’s Taelach,” he said. “I think it’s one of the Creiloff— What is it, Krell?”
“LaRenna’s.” Krell held out the scraps.
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“You don’t know that for certain.”
“I took it off her night before last. Dear Mother, what have I done?” Krell sank to the floor, cuddling LaRenna’s belongings. “I told her I’d be there if she needed me. I promised. How could I be so stupid?” She shook remorsefully, clinging even tighter to the cloth, the meager remains of LaRenna.
“She’s not dead, Krell.” The words sounded so forced he began again. “She’s alive. We’ll find her. Wait and see.”
“Where do I begin?” Krell sniffed hard then held up the underskirt. “There’s so much blood. It’s everywhere. She’s hurt. I can feel it. I knew it last night. Oh, Firman, what have I done?”
Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine Page 16