Stud, p.20
Stud, page 20
“Um, yeah, I guess…” Just as soon as I figure out what in the world he’s doing.
Tarq knew it was a gamble, but he’d seen the frankly assessing gleam in Vertigan’s eyes and known it for what it was. He was familiar with Davordians and Mordrials both, but had never run across the combination before. Mordrials tended to be lady-killers and most Davordians were confirmed sluts—males and females. Not that he had any room to talk, but a cross of those two species was bound to be a sweet-talking horn dog. He was taking no chances of losing Lucy to him.
The look on her face had him a bit nervous, though. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She was shocked—which was expected—but if she was happy, it certainly didn’t show. Her friend Nat, on the other hand, seemed properly thrilled. Perhaps some of her enthusiasm would rub off on Lucy. Still, with the other men knowing she wasn’t available, he could relax.
Until he was alone with Lucy again. The gods only knew what she’d say to him then.
Vertigan was already setting off and the others were following. Tarq helped Lucy gather up their belongings while Nat chattered away about their life as refugees in the Eradics. “The vrelnots are really scary. None of us has been eaten by one yet, but it’s bound to happen eventually. Vertigan is able to communicate telepathically with most other animals, but vrelnots either won’t listen or they’re too vicious to care what he might have to say to them.”
Lucy shuddered. “How do you avoid them?”
“We hide out in caves, mostly,” Nat replied. “Vrelnots won’t go underground for some reason—which is fortunate. It’s tough to hunt for food with them around, though. They go after the same prey that we do. Needless to say, they’re better hunters.”
Tarq frowned. “Why don’t you kill them?”
Traldeck snorted. “What? Kill vrelnots? Without a laser weapon? Impossible. Pulse weapons just make them mad.”
“What about projectiles?”
Traldeck regarded Tarq as though he were a child who asked too many questions. “Totally useless. Hide’s too tough.”
Having seen the head of one mounted on the wall in the café, Tarq had to assume that to kill one required using a laser to cut off its head. Unfortunately, as potentially lethal weapons, laser pistols were heavily regulated on most worlds and were therefore scarce. Pulse weaponry was much safer, allowing you to stun your opponent without having to commit murder or cause serious injury—unless you turned up the intensity—and most, like the one Lucy carried, didn’t have the “kill” setting on them at all.
Tarq let the subject drop, looping Lucy’s bag over his shoulder as he set off down the mountainside with the others. He really hoped that wherever they were going had a decent water supply. Lucy’s pregnancy concerned him. How many things had she been doing that she shouldn’t? This early, there wasn’t much that could harm the babies, but still, he hated to take the chance. He needed to get her to a place where she would be safe and receive the best of care—soon. Tarq didn’t have a home of his own—he’d been living at The Palace and then out of his speeder or in hotels along the way—but his mind drifted to Lucy and a house where their children could grow and thrive. He had enough money to give her anything she wanted, short of her own planet, and he was aching for the opportunity to do it.
But none of his wealth mattered if she didn’t love him.
***
The shallow cave where he and Lucy had holed up was nothing compared to the one this band of refugees had been living in. The entrance was small and inconspicuous, but once inside, the place was vast, with a high ceiling and gleaming rock formations. The air was fresh—leading Tarq to suspect there was an opening higher up on the mountain—and he could hear the sound of falling water from deep inside the cave, undoubtedly melting snow from the higher elevations. Tarq wondered how many other creatures had been evicted when Vertigan’s little band moved in, but at least they were safe from vrelnots. He didn’t relish the idea of waking up to find one staring him in the face—a possibility that had worried him while they were out in the open.
Though these people must’ve been living there for some time, they seemed to have escaped with very little in the way of equipment. An open fireplace had been built of rock presumably gathered from the cave floor, which was swept clean and smooth. Drying animal skins hung from ledges, and there were sleeping pallets made of dried grasses and leaves, some near the fire and some closer to the outer walls. There was a spit over the fire for the roasting of meat, but no pots that he could see. His own pan and trivet would be welcome additions.
Upon closer inspection, he saw that the spit was made of a long slender bone—its shape suggesting it had once been a rib. If so, the animal it came from had to be at least the size of a horse, perhaps even larger. Tarq hoped it wasn’t a predator. The spit was held above the fire by a pair of long forked antlers.
He put Lucy’s bag down in an empty spot along a wall that wasn’t overly far from the fire but would allow for some degree of privacy.
Lucy was still deep in conversation with Nat—a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and a rather stunning figure—no doubt catching up on all that had occurred since they’d last spoken to one another. She obviously trusted these people, but Tarq was more wary. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t because Vertigan was an unattached male who viewed Lucy as a potential conquest, but it was difficult. The others he dismissed as harmless, though if the Norludian was anything like the others of his kind, he was bound to be entertaining.
The best Tarq could tell, Vertigan was the leader of the group, though whether self-appointed or elected by the majority was something he’d yet to determine. As Natasha’s husband, he wasn’t too worried about Traldeck, and the others were obviously willing to be quiet followers.
Vertigan stood gazing at the fire, his eyes nearly as bright as the smoldering embers. Finally he spoke. “Each one of us was persecuted and driven into the mountains—presumably to die—our only crime that of being nonhuman. This has been a trend in Yalka for the past year or more, though not everyone in that city was against us. How many others are living—or have died—in these mountains is unknown.
“We tend to share everything here—for the good of all.” He gestured toward Lucy’s duffel bag. “You seem to have been more prepared than we were.”
“I was… on the road alone for a while,” Lucy said. “So I’ve got quite a few things. Tarq had a speeder that had all kinds of stuff in it, but it was stolen.”
Tarq nodded his agreement but eyed Lucy warily. Her real reason for leaving Reltan would make claiming her as his mate seem unlikely. He hoped she wouldn’t tell them too much.
“Oh, I get it,” Natasha said. “You had to run away from your family first and meet up with him later, didn’t you?”
Lucy nodded. “That’s pretty much how it happened. I was coming to find him when he was attacked. That’s how I got the drop on them.”
Tarq let out a pent-up breath—an action that Traldeck seemed to notice.
Natasha nodded her approval. “Good for you, Lucy! Did you know the men?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lucy replied. “Three of them, anyway: Fred Crytle, Lenny Mavtis, and another guy named Tuwain. They come in the café all the time. I didn’t see the two who stole the speeder, but Fred seemed to be in charge of things.” She frowned. “He always did strike me as being a bit of an asshole.”
“Did they see you?”
“They might have, but it was dark, so I don’t think they did. We saw them in the valley yesterday—with Tarq’s speeder. Guess we know now why they didn’t follow us up here.”
Vertigan grinned for the first time. “We have made it… unpleasant for those who do.”
Aside from catching people in compromising positions, Tarq hadn’t seen much in the way of a show of force. “And how do you do that without weapons?”
Natasha giggled. “He sics the birds on them. It’s like something out of a horror movie.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Lucy agreed. “Makes me glad you only sent the dog out after us.”
Vertigan nodded. “Akeir is a very astute judge of character.”
“And he can tell humans from other species by their scent, which is useful,” Traldeck said. “He must like you a great deal. We were surprised at how much time he spent with you.”
“What do you mean, how much time?” Lucy glared at them, her eyes shooting daggers and her fists planted firmly on her hips. “Just how long have you known we were out there?”
“A day or two,” Vertigan said with a shrug. “We were waiting for Akeir’s report.”
“Great.” Lucy snorted a laugh. “I’m out there trying to catch fish and fend for myself with a badly injured, unconscious man while you guys sat here waiting for the dog to report in. Thanks a whole big bunch.”
Tarq perked up at this. If she was angry with Vertigan, perhaps he had nothing to fear from that quarter. “You were very brave and resourceful, Lucy.”
“Thanks, Tarq, but if it wasn’t necessary—”
“Told you she’d be pissed,” the Norludian said. “I was a bit miffed myself. Out there alone with nothing but bugs and berries to eat…”
“But you like bugs and berries,” Natasha pointed out.
“Okay, so it’s the lack of company that bothers me the most.” He looked up at Lucy with his bulbous eyes—rather adoringly, Tarq thought. “She wouldn’t have left me out there all alone. Would you?”
“No, I probably wouldn’t have, but—”
The Norludian smiled and held out his hand, waggling his sucker-tipped fingers at Lucy. “My name is Terufen. Pleased to meet you.”
“Um, I’m Loucinda Force,” she said, extending her hand in greeting. “But everyone calls me Lucy.”
“Charming name,” Terufen said. Taking her hand, he wrapped his fingers around it, applying his suckers to her palm. His smile widened into a grin, his tongue protruding between his fishlike lips. “Your essenth ith delithous.”
With all that had happened, Tarq had forgotten about Norludians. Taking Lucy by the arm, he pulled her out of Terufen’s grasp. “Lucy is my mate. Remember?”
Terufen giggled. “Maybe.”
The pale-skinned Sympaticon’s laugh sounded like metal creaking under stress. Currently in its resting state, its beady black eyes looked out of a gray face that was blurred, like a bad copy of an original. A few wisps of hair sprouted from its flat round ears, and long yellow nails tipped its reedlike fingers. Its thin body was draped with a swath of drab threadbare fabric that was belted at the waist. “I can turn myself into a Norludian female anytime you like, Terufen. You don’t need to bother her.”
The Norludian’s mouth formed a moue of distaste. “Yes, but your essence stays the same, Kotcamp. You taste like a male.”
“But I’m genderless,” Kotcamp protested. “I shouldn’t taste like either one!”
“That’s the problem,” Terufen said, slapping a flipper-like foot on the stone floor for emphasis. “As far as I’m concerned, your essence is about as stimulating as these rocks.”
The female Vetla made an odd cackling sound and nudged the male standing beside her. “Good thing we’ve got each other.”
The male coughed and shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his long nose with a bony forefinger. “’S a matter of opinion.”
The female sniffed and her droopy eyelids rose slightly. “I’m all you’ve got, so you might as well make the best of it. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“I’m counting heavily on science.” The male shuffled toward Lucy, his attempt at a bow accentuating the hunched back that was typical of his kind. “My name is Faletok.” With a nod toward the female, he added, “And this is my… wife, Crilla.”
Crilla shook her long stringy hair back from her face and settled her multilayered robes more becomingly around her shoulders—at least Tarq assumed it was meant to be more becoming. It was his considered opinion that nothing ever made Vetlas look any better.
The Zebtan was, thankfully, female. Males of that species reportedly had two penises—and a wife for each of them—and were generally thought to be rather cocky bastards, which wasn’t too surprising, considering their anatomy. Relatively young and quite lovely—if you liked women with orange eyes, green skin, and snakelike hair—she introduced herself as Walkuta, but otherwise said very little.
The last of the refugees stepped forward. Tarq thought he might have seen one of this species somewhere before, but he’d certainly never spoken with one of them. Less than a meter in height with a head that was too big for its body, its fragile-looking skin was a translucent white. It had spindly arms and legs, huge teardrop-shaped glowing red eyes and, like the Norludian, wore no clothing whatsoever.
“I am Bratol, a male of the planet Zerka,” he said, bowing to Lucy. “May I say that you are even lovelier than our beauteous Natasha.”
Lucy stared at Bratol as though he’d lost his mind. “Have trouble focusing with those red eyes of yours?”
Bratol wheezed with laughter, revealing a snake-like tongue. “No, my vision is quite good, I assure you. In fact, I can see many things that others cannot.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Beyond all doubt,” Bratol replied. “I can see the aura emanating from within you. It is truly beautiful.”
“Hmm.” Lucy seemed skeptical. Tarq couldn’t decide if Bratol was serious or not.
Natasha’s laughter broke the tension. “He’s always saying things like that. You’ll get used to him eventually.”
Lucy continued to eye him askance. “I’m wondering what else he can see that he’s not telling us about.”
Bratol blinked, his eyelids closing horizontally rather than vertically, sweeping in from the outer side of his eye toward his nose—if the slit between his eyes was indeed his nose. Tarq wasn’t completely sure.
“I see many things,” the Zerkan said mysteriously. “Some I mention, some I keep to myself… for a time.”
Tarq glared at Bratol, wondering if one of those things he could “see” was that he and Lucy were not truly mates. Or perhaps he could see that Tarq believed it but Lucy didn’t. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a question Tarq could ask. He’d seen a lot of charlatans on Rhylos—people who would tell you what you wanted to hear and call it your fortune—but had never put any stock in anything they’d had to say. As far as he knew, Zetithians were the only species that could predict the future with any degree of accuracy—and even their visions weren’t available on demand—but this Zerkan was new to him.
Lucy took a step toward Tarq and away from Bratol. Deciding that a show of his affection—or protection—was in order, he enfolded her in his arms and eased her back against his chest. Pleased that she didn’t resist, he nuzzled her ear, never taking his eyes off Bratol.
Bratol smiled, displaying glittering crystalline teeth. “Your auras blend well together.”
Somewhat encouraged by this comment, Tarq began purring and kissed Lucy on the neck.
Bratol laughed aloud. “Oh, yes. Quite well indeed. A perfect pair.”
Abandoning his initial distrust, Tarq decided that this guy was worth listening to after all.
Chapter 19
Lucy still hadn’t figured out what was going on, and Tarq purring in her ear was about to drive her to distraction. Surely he wouldn’t keep on like that while others were watching, and she was relieved when he stopped purring and released her.
Her head cleared quickly. The best explanation she could arrive at was that her pregnancy was what made her aura so beautiful, and the fact that it blended well with Tarq’s was because he was the father. That is, if she could believe a word Bratol was saying.
She gave Bratol a halfhearted smile and a brief “thanks” and went over to where Tarq had laid her bag, motioning for Nat to follow. “I’ve got some things—apples, salami, olives, and a couple of bottles of water. Not much bread and cheese left, though. But Tarq had this.”
The sight of the pan and trivet elicited a collective sigh from the entire company, but it was Natasha who spoke. “Oh, my frickin’ God! We can actually boil water and stew the meat! I’m sick to death of roasted rock rat!”
Lucy thought it was funny that a common saucepan would turn out to be such a prize, but she knew how useful it had been. “Too bad it’s not bigger, but it has come in handy. Wish we had more of his supplies. Tarq’s speeder had everything—including a stasis unit. He even had herbs.”
“We’ve found lots of edible plants and herbs growing wild,” Nat said. “But you can sprinkle on all the seasonings you like a rock rat and they still taste pretty much the same.”
Lucy chuckled. “So how do you catch rock rats, anyway? Does Vertigan tell them there’s free food here and then clobber them?”
“Pretty much,” Nat replied. “The larger animals are too smart to fall for it—and way too fast to catch—so we’re stuck with the rock rats. Fortunately there are lots of them.”
“Larger animals?” Tarq echoed. “You mean the ones with antlers?”
Nat nodded. “They call them draniks around here, but they’re a lot like deer. They feed on the shrubs growing farther down the eastern side of the mountain. We don’t often see them up this high.”
“Maybe we could stun them with my pistol,” Lucy suggested.
“We should probably save that for when we’re shooting at people,” Tarq said. “I used to be pretty good with a bow when I was a kid. I might be able to get one.”
Nat looked at him curiously. “A bow or a dranik?”
Tarq gave her a wink. “Both. Be back in a bit.”
Lucy watched him go, feeling an immediate sense of loss.
Nat tapped her shoulder. “Where’s he going?”
Lucy shrugged. “To get a bow and a dranik, I guess.”
“He can do that?”
“He can do lots of things—always full of surprises.”
“C’mon, then,” Nat said. “Let’s fix you two a place to sleep.”
