The Dracons' Woman: Book 1 of the Soul-Linked Saga Page 4

  Lariah’s jaw dropped open for a long moment before she shut it with a snap. She shook her head. “That’s a very kind and generous offer,” she said, “but I cannot accept.”

  “It is not an offer, it is a command,” Garen said. “We cannot allow a visitor to our world to be in harm’s way. We have placed you under our protection and we are now responsible. Therefore, you will stay with us where we can keep you safe until the danger to you has passed.”

  Lariah started to argue, then paused to think. Twice now she had been warned by some strange, inner sense that she was in danger, and both times she had ignored it. She knew that she was not psychic. She had been tested extensively for the ability years before. But the strange feelings, whatever they were, had been right both times. Now, that same inner sense was telling her that she needed to go with these men. That she belonged with them. She didn’t understand it, but she had paid dearly for ignoring that sense before. She didn’t think it would be wise to ignore it again. Besides, she thought, she felt safe with the Dracon brothers. Really and truly safe. Something she had not believed she would ever feel again.

  “Okay,” she agreed finally. “I’ll go with you. But I warn you, I’m strictly a one fork girl.”

  Garen cocked his head and frowned, glancing quickly at his brothers. Their faces wore identical expressions of confusion. He looked back at Lariah, obviously not understanding her in the least.

  “We don’t have royalty on Earth,” she explained. “Haven’t for centuries. But I’ve read about them, and it seems to me you royals all have two things in common.

  “You live in palaces so big you need a map to find your bed, and you use a different fork for everything you eat.” She paused, then blushed. “I do have table manners,” she explained quickly, “I’m not a total ape. But if you put more than one fork in front of me, I’m not going to know what to do with it.”

  Garen’s face relaxed and he smiled, an expression that lightened his face and nearly took her breath away. “We do not live in a palace sharali,” he replied easily. “We live in an ordinary house on a cattle ranch.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Table manners are optional.”

  He was teasing her, she realized with surprise, barely noticing as he casually pulled her close beside him, tucking her beneath his shoulder as though he had done it a thousand times before. Lariah was struck by the oddest feeling that she belonged just there, the side of her body touching his, his arm curved protectively around her shoulders. Which was ridiculous because she had never in her life walked beside a man in this manner. She’d never even held hands with one. So why did this feel…natural?

  “Let me carry your bag for you,” Val offered, reaching for the strap and sliding it off of her shoulder before she had a chance to refuse. He grinned at her as he looped the strap over his own shoulder, as though daring her to argue with him about it. She tilted her chin, surprising herself with her own daring.

  What is wrong with me that I keep challenging these men? she wondered. Any one of them could snap me in half without even breaking a sweat.

  But somehow she knew that none of them would ever harm her in any way. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she believed it absolutely.

  She turned away from Val, falling into step with Garen as he led the way out of the med-center and into the busy central hub of the spaceport. She knew that Trey and Val were behind them, could actually feel Val on the right and Trey on the left, both exactly one half-step back. She turned her head and leaned back a little, peeking under Garen’s arm in order check their position. She was not surprised to discover that they were exactly where she’d thought they’d be. She straightened and faced forward again.

  “I must have hit my head harder than I thought,” she said.

  “When did you hit your head?” Garen asked, his eyes immediately searching her head for signs of an injury.

  “I’m not sure,” she replied vaguely. “When I passed out I suppose.”

  Garen frowned. “Riata did not mention an injury to your head.”

  “Oh,” Lariah said weakly. There goes that theory, she thought.

  “Does it hurt?” Garen asked. “Shall we go back and ask Riata to check you again?”

  “No,” she replied with a little shake of her head. “I just thought a hit on the head would explain a few things.”

  Garen’s eyebrows rose. “I see,” he said, the expression on his face indicating that he did not, in fact, see at all. Lariah sighed again. She was tired and confused and didn’t understand much of anything that had happened since she stepped off the shuttle. She simply didn’t have the energy to think about it any more right now. Later, she told herself. I will sit down and figure all of this out later.

  Barc came to with a groan as he was being dragged roughly from the cargo hold of a fertilizer transport. Primarily known for producing the finest meat in the galaxy, Jasan was also known for its rich fertilizer, the natural by-product of the planet’s massive livestock herds. The odor in the hold was so strong that Barc’s first deep breath, a reflex reaction to the excruciating pain of having his broken leg knocked against the doorway as he was dragged carelessly through the cargo hatch, had him choking and gagging.

  The men dragging him dropped him onto the floor as soon as they were out of the hold, then stood over him impassively while he continued to gasp, his eyes streaming from the harsh fumes. When he finally stopped choking and was able to breathe again, he realized that the smell of fertilizer was still quite strong. A quick look down solved that mystery. His once neatly pressed security uniform was now nearly unrecognizable. There were several large rips and tears, and it was covered in brown chunks and smears of damp fertilizer. He frowned, trying to figure out why he had so much of the vile stuff all over him, and why there were so many ragged tears in the fabric.

  He swore softly to himself as he fingered one long rip on his shirt front. That was exactly where his name patch had been. A quick check of the location of a few more tears, and he knew that for every patch, logo and stripe that had once marked his clothing as a Jasan Spaceport Security Officer’s uniform, there would now be a ragged hole. He assumed that whoever had done that had probably seen to it that he was quite thoroughly covered in fertilizer as well.

  One glance at the two men standing guard over him, and Barc knew at once he would get no help there. They were Jasani, and from the way they were glaring at him, they knew he had tried to abduct a female. The Jasani natives were hell on anyone who failed to treat females as though they were more valuable than Carlasian spider-spun crystal. Barc sighed. He was in deep shit, and it didn’t have anything to do with the fertilizer.

  Barc didn’t bother to try to get up or move from the spot his guards had dropped him. It would have been a waste of energy. They were waiting for something, and he would find out what eventually. Instead, he tried to relax and think.

  Somehow, Jackson had discovered he was abducting the woman. Someone saw him and reported it, or the man had just picked that moment for a snack. Either way didn’t matter. Although, how in the hell had the man tossed him clear across that room, he wondered briefly. Had to have been at least thirty feet. Jackson was bigger than him, but not by that much. He shook his head. It wasn’t possible. Obviously, he’d been hallucinating.

  All that mattered was that there was no way for anyone to know he’d been following Loggia’s orders. If that information got out, he was a dead man. Loggia would see to it. And since he’d failed, well, Loggia would likely see to it personally. Barc shuddered at the thought and broke out in a cold sweat. The idea was so terrifying that it took him a minute to remember that since nobody could know about Loggia, he had nothing to worry about. Well, he amended silently, almost nothing. Loggia wouldn’t be happy that he’d bungled the job. But he didn’t think he’d be killed for it.

  With that worry off his mind, Barc relaxed a little. He knew full well that the usual punishment for off-worlders was simply banishment from Jasan. Occasionally con
fiscation of property. Being pulled from a cargo hold with his leg broken meant he’d been immediately banished. He recognized his surroundings, and knew he was in the skyport. He had no doubt that his guards meant to see that he was shipped out of the system as soon as possible. They would also be sure that his prints and scans were computer flagged so that he would never again be granted a visa to enter Jasani space. All in all, he didn’t think it was too bad as punishments went. He would still be a free man. Once he found a new place to settle, he would focus on trying to get his money transferred off of Jasan without getting himself sent to some Class 6 Prison rock in the process.

  “Is this the garbage Bearen wanted taken out?”

  Barc looked up to see a third guard join the two standing over him.

  “Not any more,” one of his guards said. “They want this lucky shit back.”

  “What the hell for?” asked the new guard.

  Both of the original guards laughed, a sound that did not fill Barc with confidence. “This idiot not only grabbed a woman and broke her arm,” the man paused and all three guards glared at Barc for a long moment, “turns out the woman is none other than the Dracons’ Arima.”

  Expressions of surprise, disbelief, and awe crossed the new guard’s face in rapid succession, causing Barc to wonder what the hell they were talking about. What was an Arima? And when they said Dracons, did they mean Dracons as in the royal princes? Those Dracons? His luck could not be that bad. Could it? Barc looked up to see all three guards glaring at him harder than ever. Yep, his luck was that bad.

  “Excuse me,” said another new voice as a short figure stepped around the guards. A Terran female dressed in a distinctive silver med-tech jumpsuit looked at him calmly and cocked her head. “This is the patient?” she asked.

  The gossipy guard nodded. “That’s him.”

  “And you want him treated here, rather than in the med-center, is that correct?” the woman asked with no inflection in her high voice. Terran’s always annoyed Barc. They sounded like badly programmed bots.

  The guard nodded. “We’re just gonna toss him in a holding cell until planet security picks him up.”

  “Very well,” she said, pulling a short metal rod from her pocket. Barc blanched. A portable bone annealer. Damn. This was going to hurt. He glanced up at the guards, then gritted his teeth at what he saw on their faces.

  “I will need help aligning the edges of the bone,” the Terran said.

  Yeah, this was going to hurt a lot.

  Chapter 3

  Lariah felt deep softness beneath her and sighed as she snuggled into the cozy bed. Her eyes popped open as she realized that she didn’t have a cozy soft bed to sleep in any more, and hadn’t for some time now. She lay frozen for a moment, then relaxed as she remembered leaving the spaceport with the Dracon brothers, being lifted into the huge, sleek ground-car, the feeling of safety and warmth infusing her entire being as she watched the lavender sky darken to purple night through the window while she listened vaguely to the brothers as they chatted on the drive home. She must have fallen asleep in the car, and they had carried her inside.

  As soon as she thought of the Dracon brothers she realized that she could still sense them. She knew that they were somewhere nearby, and that they were all together. She didn’t understand how or why she knew. It was so strange. She shook her head slightly and decided not to think about it for the moment.

  She sat up and looked around, taking in the big, airy room. The wall to her right was set with wide windows and a sliding glass door looking out over what appeared to be a patio. The bed itself was large, warm and clean, the light yellow blanket so soft she was sure she had never seen or felt anything like it. The furnishings were all made from a light gold colored wood, gleaming softly in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the walls were pale, warm yellow. The room was soothing with its cheerful colors and natural sunlight.

  She flipped back the covers, relieved to find herself still dressed in her oversized clothes, save for her shoes. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood slowly, testing her body as she moved. She had been injured badly enough, recently enough, that she wasn’t completely confident in her physical condition. She took a careful inventory and was surprised to find she actually felt better, stronger, than she had in a long time. She took a deep breath and let go of the bed, stepping away from it slowly. No dizziness, no pain in her arm or leg or anywhere else she’d been injured. It was such a relief to feel her old self again that she couldn’t help but smile.

  Lariah crossed the floor slowly, her feet sinking into thick, multi colored rugs scattered across the shiny wood floor, and paused to stare out the window. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of the landscape before her. Lavender skies stretched as far as the eye could see, broken here and there with puffy white clouds. Immediately outside her window was a covered patio, as she had guessed, with several deeply cushioned chairs and small tables scattered here and there, and one large round one in the center with matching chairs set neatly around it. Beyond the patio stretched a large garden filled with bushes, flowers, and trees in colors and shapes she had never imagined.

  In the distance, blue grass rippled in a gentle breeze over rolling hills dotted with animals of some sort. Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to identify the distant shapes. Cows, she thought, and, perhaps those other things were horses. She had only seen images of such things, had never actually seen the living breathing animals themselves, but she was fairly certain she was correct. Her smile widened in wonder at the breathtaking view.

  After a few minutes she turned away from the window and studied the room. It looked as though it had been decorated either by or for a woman, but at the same time, it didn’t seem to belong to anyone. There were no personal effects in the room, no clothing anywhere, no pictures on the wall. She spotted her handbag and her canvas tote on a chair near the bed and was relieved that she had not lost her few, meager possessions. She also noted a partially open door and hurried to it, hoping very much that it led to a bathroom. It did. In fact, it led to a beautiful, gleaming bathroom with a large, deep bath tub. Once she was finished with her more urgent needs, she debated using the tub.

  She knew that taking off all of her clothes and climbing into the tub would expose her to danger. But, for some reason, she wasn’t feeling the usual fear that went along with the knowledge. The fear that had haunted her every waking moment for weeks was now gone.

  She bit her lip as she considered the situation. Finally, with a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and mentally reached out for the Dracon brothers. The moment she felt them, a rush of unfamiliar heat raced through her body and she became extremely aroused. Her eyes flew open and she gasped with surprise. She had never felt anything like that in her entire life. She had no idea what to do with such intense feelings so she tried to ignore them by focusing on whether she should take a bath.

  She knew that all three of the Dracon brothers were together, and that they were nearby. She had no way of knowing if they were in the same house she was in as she hadn’t seen anything other than the bedroom and bathroom, but she thought they were. For reasons she wasn’t quite ready to examine, she knew that if they were nearby, then she was safe.

  They had put her in a guest room and the guest room had a bath so it was logical to assume that she was welcome to use it if she wished. Well, she thought, that might be pushing things, but if she had to explain herself, that was what she would say.

  Deciding that she was safe, and that the tub was intended to be used, she went back to the bedroom, grabbed her bags, took them into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced the luxury of a full bath. Inter-System Transport Lines came up short on bathing facilities and, while she had been able to take quick showers in tiny, cramped stalls during her long journey, she had dreamed of a real bath. She decided to set aside all other problems for right now and just enjoy this luxury.

>   She set the water taps to fill the tub and retrieved her toiletries bag and some fresh clothes from her tote. She spotted a tray of little bottles at one end of the bathroom counter and discovered they were a variety of bath oils, shampoos and lotions. She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip at her own audacity, then shrugged. What the heck, she thought, if they want they can charge me for them. She selected several bottles of a light lemony scent she liked and set them on the edge of the tub. She emptied the bath oil into the water and breathed in the scent rising with the steam. She could hardly wait to get in.

  She all but ripped her clothes off and left them in a pile on the floor, hesitated for one second, and decided to throw caution to the winds. Happy with her decision, she reached up and yanked the tight, hot wig from her head and tossed it onto the pile of clothes. She unwound the long braid from around her head, sighing at the blessedly cool feel of air against her scalp. Loosening the braid with quick, practiced fingers, she stepped into the tub. She lowered herself into the water slowly, feeling her muscles practically groan as the heat seeped into them. She laid back in the water up to her neck, closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure.

  Garen stood at the window in the ranch office, staring out over the home pasture, the usually calming sight of grazing cattle and horses doing nothing to ease his tension.

  “Thank you for your assistance Jackson,” Trey said, speaking to the vid screen on Garen’s desk. “Please keep us posted if you learn anything new.”

  Garen heard Jackson assure Trey that he would keep them informed, then the click as the call was disconnected. He turned to face his brothers. “So, someone, somehow, managed to remove this Barc Landon from his holding cell on the skyport before he could be transported back here to face our questions. I find that disturbing news.”

  Val sighed. “The worst of it being, of course, that it was our people holding him.”