Heat (41 page)

She was blushing even before her mind had finished asking its indignant question. Since about the second day, and she damn well knew it.

Tagen shrugged into his uniform jacket, again with that unconscious strength and grace that took the bones right out of her. It, too, had about a billion fastens, but here Daria’s common sense finally got the better of her. There was nothing else for him to wear. He was going to turn around and find her unless she bailed.

Daria backed up and headed for the stairs on tiptoes, moving with such painstaking silence that she knew she must look like a Scooby-Doo villain. Once she was on the stairs, she scampered down at speed and then raced through the hall to the kitchen. She didn’t stop running until she’d slammed up against the sink. She gripped the countertop until her hands hurt, but she was only peripherally aware of this; she stared out the barred window at her orderly orchard and slowly, she began to smile.

‘I’m a peeper!’ she thought dazedly. ‘God, I’m a total pervert!’

She couldn’t believe how turned on she was. She knew she should be ashamed. She knew she’d be mortified if she’d been on the receiving end of an alien peep-job after a shower. Mortified, hell. She’d be hysterical. Probably throw herself out the nearest window, and never mind whether the peeping alien in question had a sexy ass or not.

What would Tagen have done if he’d seen her? Probably cover up and tell her to leave in that extremely calm and dignified voice he used when he was two hairs shy of royally pissed-off. At the very least, he’d close the door. But just for a moment, Daria imagined something very different. Just for a moment, she saw him turn, see her, pause to let their eyes really meet (his smoldering with that eerie golden fire), and then he came towards her, all right. He even closed the door, but first he pulled her inside.

No words. She wasn’t very good at this fantasy thing and never had been. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Tagen would actually say in such a situation and anyway, he was pretty close-mouthed at the best of times. He would not speak, he’d just pull her against him and let her undress the body she’d just watched him clothe.

Oh Jesus, this was the most ridiculous—

Tagen’s talons came clicking down the hall. Daria quickly fumbled down a tumbler and tried to pretend she’d been thoroughly engrossed in pouring a glass of water for the last six minutes. He crossed without speaking to the table and sat.

“Can I get you anything?” she offered brightly. Way too brightly.

“Please.”

She put a little ice in the water and brought it to him. He smiled when he took it. He didn’t look like a man who knew he’d been peeped at. Or if he did, he didn’t look like he minded.

“You have been a considerate host,” he said. “Far beyond my expectations.”

As compliments went, it was never going to replace ‘You smell purdy’, but it still made her blush. Well, it was that or the memory of him naked.

“You have information for me?”

The question served to center her back in the here and now. She looked around for her printouts and fetched them from the counter where she’d discarded them in the throes of Fantasyland. “Maybe.” She came to the table and sat beside him, not close enough to touch, but certainly close enough to think about touching.

“These are all the massive head trauma deaths for the Pacific coast for the last week,” she said, fanning the pages out.

“Week?”

“Seven days.”

“Ah.” He flipped through the papers. “So many.”

“I know. They’re not all murders,” she added defensively. “I was just getting screen-blind.”

Tagen set the pages out one at a time before her and leaned in to look at them. His shoulder brushed hers. “Are these the only days available to access?” he asked.

“No, they have archives.”

“Today is my nineteenth day on Earth,” he said. “E’Var had three days in advance of me.”

“That’s…going to be a lot more pages.” She hoped her hesitation sounded like something appropriate, like horror or something, and not what it truly was, which was his knee touching hers under the table. God, he’d been stone naked.

“Yes, I do apologize. I…” Tagen paused and drew in a slow breath, his eyes closing. He was very still for a short time.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, his eyes still shut to her. “I was distracted.”

Daria waited.

He leaned back into his chair, scooting back just far enough not to touch her anymore, and opened his eyes. He looked at the papers, then glanced at her. His expression was impossible to read.

“You were saying?” she prompted.

He blinked owlishly, his face solemn and closed to her. “It will be many pages,” he said after a moment. “But at least we are sure to see all there is to see.” His gaze sharpened, piercing her. “I appreciate your efforts.”

Stone naked and drop-dead gorgeous. She wondered what it would be like to kiss that mouth, to feel those alien hands on her bare skin. Oh, she had to stop this. It felt like her insides were melting.

Daria realized all at once that she’d been sitting and staring into Tagen’s molten eyes without speaking since his last words. She further realized he was just gazing back at her, breathing slow and even. His nostrils were fanning slightly on each inhale. He—

He could
smell
her! Oh dear
God
!

Daria jumped up and tried to retreat as rapidly and gracefully as humanly possible. Tagen stood, but did not follow, although he frowned as she backed toward the door.

“I just remembered,” she blurted. “I have to…” She couldn’t think of a damn thing. She gestured vaguely at the hallway. “Polish,” she said lamely. “Something. Excuse me.”

She fled to the laundry room, slammed the door, and leaned against it, gripping the knob in both hands. He’d been smelling her. He’d been sitting there smelling her…her pheromones or something. Talking to her like nothing was happening and all the while knowing—

Well, so what? How was that any worse than her peeping at him while he got dressed?

It didn’t have to be worse, it was still wrong.

The doorknob in her hands tried to turn and Daria gripped it tighter.

There was a short pause, made heavily awkward by the fact that neither of them could pretend they weren’t touching the doorknob. Then she heard him sigh. “Daria,” he said.

She wanted to tell him to go away, but there was no way that wouldn’t sound rude and even now, on the edge of panic, she knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’m busy,” she said instead, which was more diplomatic, perhaps, but also patently absurd.

“Daria, please admit me.”

“No.”

“Please do not fear m—”

“
No
!”

Silence. His hand slipped away from the doorknob. His talons clicked as he walked away.

She should be relieved, shouldn’t she? Why…why did she feel so awful?

Daria slid down and sat in a heap before the door. Her heart was still pounding and tears were still stinging behind her eyes, but the only thing she could seem to feel fully was the ghost-memory of his knee brushing hers under the table. She wanted to go after him.

And she couldn’t.

T
agen heard Daria’s feet on the stairs and knew just by the swift, heavy stride of her that she was edgy. He picked up the tuning controller for the tee-vee and changed the channel from his law program to the media feeds. By the time Daria came down into the front room with wet towels on her hip, he was leaning back and looking as though he had been watching the news for hours.

She paused at the side of the sofa to glare at the screen. Humans were taking turns solemnly informing viewers of a brutal double murder in a place called Fever Falls. No one was saying exactly how the two had died, but an image showing one of the bodies being removed caught Tagen’s interest. The body was covered, but there was a red stain on the litter by which it was carried indicating injury to the back of the head. Tagen flexed his claws thoughtfully.

“Anything?” Daria asked.

“Mm.” The media feed changed to a briefing on Earth’s civil war, and Tagen turned all his attention to Daria. “Is it possible to find more images?” he asked. “I would like to see the bodies.”

“I can look,” she said, but she seemed doubtful. “It takes time before gory stuff gets leaked onto the internet,” she added, answering his frown.

But the tightness in her seemed to be assuaged by his interest in the media, and that was a relief. She had been in a foul mood this morning, passing hours seemingly at ease, and then suddenly snapping out at him without provocation. He suspected (although Heat stole much of his objectivity) that her conflict stemmed from the events of the previous day, and while that was understandable, he did not appreciate being made the target of the anger that was the foam of her simmering anxiety. This time, it seemed he had dodged the battle, but who knew for how long?

“Fever Falls isn’t that far away, I guess. Do you think it was him?” Daria asked. She was looking at the tee-vee, watching the pop and smoke of the human’s war spill over the screen while the briefing agent calmly recited the day’s casualties.

“I think I will not know unless I see the injuries.” He thought it a politic answer, but it earned him a ferocious glare. Cautiously, he added, “If it is E’Var, I will know it by the way in which the victims were killed.”

Daria thought that over, her shoulders relaxing somewhat. “Okay, I see your point.” She walked away.

Tagen exhaled slow relief and switched the tee-vee off. The sun had reached the setting point by which the screen was nearly invisible anyway, and the light focused through the windows made the front room into an oven. If he couldn’t watch his law program, he didn’t want to be here. He was emptied for now. He wished to prolong that precious state as much as possible.

In the kitchen, Tagen filled a glass with ice and water and sat at the table in the shade to drink it. Daria joined him shortly, tension back in her body the instant she saw him. She sat before the bulky computer and began to work its keys.

Neither of them spoke. The silence was not a comfortable one, but at least it was familiar. Tagen sat and gazed levelly at the sink, sipping water and pretending Daria did not exist, feeling Heat creep in on him.

“Nope, you’re out of luck,” she said suddenly. “No pictures yet, but it does say the two of them had their skulls crushed.”

“Crushed?”

“Yes. Um, broken. Smashed.” She mimed a heavy, bludgeoning blow and then examined the computer screen once more. “A portion of the brain was removed,” she said, apparently reading. “Looks like they think it’s a cult thing.”

“Removed,” Tagen mused, and scowled.

“What, is that…?” Daria pushed her chair back and looked at him intently. “Is that how he’s making his drug? Out of…brains?”

“No.” Tagen bared his teeth. “Yes.” He put his hand on the back of his head. “Here,” he said. “Here is where he takes it.”

Daria stood up fast and paced across the kitchen. She stood a long time over the sink and then started running hot water. “What…What does it look like?” she asked softly.

*

It was beautiful. Amber heaven. Liquid
crona
.

Kane rolled the ampule of harvested fluid between his thick fingers and considered its contents, now brilliantly gold with backwashed light from his hotel window. It was only the first he’d filled, the first of forty vials, and it had taken five humans. True, Kane hadn’t really put much effort into the hunt yet, and true, he’d seen no sign of Fleet pursuit. It was possible, however unlikely, that Kane had come to Earth completely without notice, possible that the loss of the prison transport ship had been discounted by those in power as fallen to accident.

Possible.

Kanetus E’Var had lived fifty-three years in the company of chemists and smugglers. He had not done so by conceding blinding to possibility.

And so…

The fluids culled from five humans could be cured into decent product, and Kane could expect to see a good profit by it. With forty vials, at five humans apiece, Kane would see four thousand
crona
, give or take. That was enough profit to go to ground somewhere deep in the back reaches of So-Quaal space and pay out fore-wages to a fairly decent crew. He had no ship, and that was a pisser, but his name might be enough to rent the use of one. He’d end up paying double its worth in a damned short stretch of time, but at least he’d have a way around space. He could come back to Earth on his own time and with his own crew, and hunt until they had enough
crona
for a top-line cruiser like the
Yevoa Null
.

Or…or Kane could cull another five humans, refine the mix, play with it, orchestrate it…And divine from it a superior product, one worth easily ten times the profit. That wouldn’t just be any ship under his command. That would be a Kevrian Light-Slicer at the very least.

Twice as much effort to harvest. Twice as much risk…if risk were a variable able to calculate. But ten times the profit.

Hmm.

“So, um…”

Kane slid his eyes towards his human, still rolling the ampule in his claws.

Raven was sitting on the edge of the bed, thighs splayed and shoulders hunched, on the pretense of cleaning her piercings. She was not facing him, but he could see her eyes anxiously seeking his reflection in the dark eye of the television. She was watching him and watching the vial in his hand.

Kane smiled, just a little. In Raven’s human face, he thought he saw much of the same curiosity and hunger his own father might have seen in the face of young Kanetus, still hip-height and new to the chemist’s craft. His Raven was human, but she was quick as a whip for all of that, and Kane was inclined to see to her education, if she were curious.

Raven stirred a little, enough to turn her face to him. “So, you’re like…a drug dealer? You make drugs?”