Janaya (17 page)

She stared at him, feeling helpless but unable to think of an alternative. “I’ll take the area where I heard them,” she said. And hopefully, they were still there.

“Any hints?”

Janaya attempted a smile. “Shoot first and ask questions later.”
Keep safe. I don’t want to lose you.
The knowledge that she would leave soon and lose him anyway followed close on the heels of her first sobering thought. “Take care.”

After checking in with Luke’s second-in-command, they hurried out the rear exit. Luke drove out of town the long way that took them in the opposite direction to the town hall. Once out of town, he slowed.

“Which way?”

“Let me out here,” Janaya said. “I haven’t heard any further communications but this is the area.”

Luke’s face held no expression but she sensed his concern. She squeezed his shoulder, trying to communicate her feelings, and leaned in to kiss him hard. She climbed from the Land Cruiser and watched Luke drive away.

The sound of the vehicle faded. The buzz and click of insects filled the air along with the rustle of leaves in the nearby trees and the lowing of a cow. No Torgon. She sniffed and smelled nothing more than nature’s aromas—rich soil, green foliage and wildflowers. Worry still tinged her mind and burned her gut. Instinct told her they shouldn’t have split up, but what alternative did they have?

She checked the surrounding area for signs of life—Earthman or Torgon. Nothing. She drew a sharp breath and bounded off the ground to land on a rocky outcrop. Still nothing. Janaya drifted back to ground and decided to wander in the direction Luke had left to search.

She rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt.

“Hello, Janaya.”

“Santana.” The Dalcon male stood before her with typical arrogance. His black shoulder-length hair was confined in the elegant coils of the noble caste. The purple fabric of his suit was so dark it was almost black and another sign of the ruling caste. The male was the stuff of a Dalcon female’s dreams.

A multitude of emotions assaulted Janaya. Dismay. Shock. Regret. And guilt. Shame filled her as she studied the familiar face of the man she intended to join with. She felt nothing for him. Not after loving Luke. The most shocking thought to bombard her was that she no longer wanted to complete the ceremonial joining.

She loved Luke.

He was the one who made her feel worthy, as if she mattered.

“What are you doing here?”

The Dalcon male refused to meet her gaze. “Where’s Hinekiri? I wish to speak with her.”

“Hinekiri is not here,” she said.

“You lie.”

Alarm sounded in Janaya as she studied Santana’s expression. Why would he travel to this distant outpost to find them? How had he known where to find her?

“I want the charts,” Santana snarled. “And I intend to have them.”

Ah, now the truth emerged. “I don’t think so.” She folded her arms across her chest. “The charts belong to Hinekiri.”

Fury and distaste chased across his face with starling clarity. “Bah! You’re a peasant—a worthless nobody. And now a criminal.” His dark eyes flashed with triumph. “You’ve been announced AWOL. They’re hunting you like the common criminal you are.”

The venom in his voice took her by surprise. She’d known of his indifference but the hate and sheer fury toward her was new.

“You will hand over those charts,” he stated in a hard voice. “I intend to take them with me.”

A tight band formed around her chest and she had trouble drawing a full breath. Thoughts bounded through her head like startled rabbits. Had he ever intended to complete the joining? “Is that why you agreed to join with me? Because of the charts?”

A scornful laugh battered at her pride. “Join with you? Your father was so desperate to rid himself of you he paid me. I needed money so I took it. Stupid bitch. He gave me directions to find you.”

Pain struck her hard and deep. Proof of her father’s indifference. He’d sold her and Hinekiri out—his own family.

* * * * *

Luke didn’t see a single Torgon, not so much as a shiny purple flash of their god-awful suits. He should have felt relief but he had a bad, sinking feeling in his gut. Cop instinct kicked in big time.

A black tui burst out of a clump of flax bushes, flying low and barely clearing his head. Luke started then let loose a low, blistering curse. Oh, yeah. Something stunk to high heavens in the town of Sloan.

He prowled down the narrow, twisting path that ran through the native bush bordering the road, taking care with each his foot placement. That bird had acted startled. And it hadn’t been him doing the scaring.

Voices.

Luke eased to a halt behind the thick trunk of a totara tree.

Janaya. That was Janaya’s voice. But he didn’t recognize the male. He decided to wait, knowing his woman could handle herself in any situation.

His woman.

Luke turned the words over in his mind and grinned. Damn right, she was his woman.

Janaya’s voice rose. The male spoke with a smooth drawl that some women would find sexy. Luke thought he sounded sly.

“My father wouldn’t do that,” Janaya insisted.

“Believe it. He sold you out. He doesn’t give a fodo shit for you.” The male clicked his fingers in illustration.

Anger burned inside Luke when Janaya slouched like a whipped puppy. Her voice held pain and disillusion. Devastation. He ached to hold her, to comfort and tell her how much he cared.

“If I had time,” the male drawled, all smug and self-satisfied, “I’d take you back to Dalcon myself and claim the AWOL reward.”

Luke tensed at the smarmy threat. That wouldn’t happen. Not while he had breath in his body. He waited for the right moment to help or intervene should the need arise.

“Try it,” Janaya spat.

“All I want are the charts.”

Luke watched Janaya freeze. Like a coiled spring, she was ready to attack but the male was too stupid to see it.

The male gestured with his silver weapon. Janaya laughed—mocking and derisive—and sprang at the male, one leg kicking up at his weapon. It sailed through the air, landing not far from Luke. After checking the clearing, he loped forward to grab the weapon for safekeeping. Janaya’s lack of reaction told him she’d known of his presence.

He stood well back to enjoy the show. It was easy to see Janaya played with the male. Easy for Luke to perceive. However, the alien male seemed a bit on the thick side.

He lashed out with a kick. She dodged with ease then darted forward to grab the alien’s foot while it was still midair. A swift flick of her wrist had the alien male flying backward and landing on his butt in the middle of a blackberry bush. His howl rivaled one of Killer’s best.

Luke stepped closer, half expecting her to pull out her weapon and explode the alien asshole into a tidy pile of purple ash.

“You’ll pay for this,” the alien snarled.

Luke took one look at Janaya and stepped back. The dark purple mist filled her eyes. The male better watch his mouth or else he’d get more than soap.

“Leave, Santana. Go back to Dalcon.”

“I’ll see you rot in prison,” Santana snarled.

A ray of purple fire shot from Janaya’s eyes, setting light to the dry leaves six inches from Santana’s butt. He let out a girlish shriek and scrambled to his feet, backing away from the fire and Janaya. Blood oozed down a cut on his pretty face.

The blackberry thorns, Luke thought. He gave up his internal fight and let a smirk bloom. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke.

“Go, Santana,” Janaya repeated.

The tired, defeated note in her voice propelled Luke to action. He strode to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Santana glared, but when she stepped toward him, he backed away with such haste he fell over a punga stump. He cursed, picked himself up and slunk from sight.

“Sweetheart.” Luke drew her into his arms and held her tense, shuddering body. A lump bloomed in his throat. He knew she’d wanted to prove her love to her father. But the bastard had thrown her love, her loyalty, back in her face. He pulled away to study her face. The color had leeched away, leaving her pale and wan.

“Let’s go home,” he said, concern at the shock-like symptoms bringing a frown.

“I don’t have a home any longer,” she whispered hoarsely. “My father hates me and my unit is hunting me for desertion.”

Luke tightened his grasp on her hand. “You have me. And Hinekiri.”

His words didn’t draw a positive response. Luke didn’t know what to do or how to convince her of her worth. He wished Hinekiri were here. She’d know what to do.

He led her unresisting form back to his vehicle and after he tossed the weapons behind his seat, buckled her into the passenger seat. A troubled silence filled his Land Cruiser during the drive to his father’s house. Luke helped Janaya out and reached for the front door. It burst open before he could grasp the front handle.

“There you are, son,” his father boomed. “Just rang the station looking for you.”

“Do ya have any food?” Killer appeared at his father’s feet, her black button nose twitching and white tail wagging so fast it blurred.

“Hinekiri here?”

“Yep,” his father said, standing aside to let them enter.

Luke led Janaya to a kitchen chair and pushed her down. He placed the weapons on the bench.

“What’s wrong?” his father asked.

“She’s had a shock. I really need Hinekiri,” Luke said.

“I get Hine,” Killer yapped. She trotted off, her nails clicking on the tiled floor.

Luke took the time to study his father. He sported a holiday tan and looked good. Relaxed. “Have a good time?”

His father grinned. “The best.” He sobered. “We need to talk.”

Luke nodded. “Sure, let me get Janaya sorted and we can sit down with a beer.”

The click of nails indicated Killer’s return. It was the speed of the return that alarmed Luke.

Killer skidded around the corner. “Purple people eaters!”

Hinekiri appeared out of breath but loaded with weapons. “Torgon. Saw them out the window.”

Janaya leapt to her feet, seeming to snap out of her lethargic shock, and grabbed up a weapon.

“Richard, here’s a weapon for you,” Hinekiri said. “Remember how to use it?”

“Is water wet?” His father snatched up the weapon and hurried to a window facing the front of the house.

“Want one,” Killer said. “Shoot purple people eaters.”

“Not enough windows,” his father said. “You guard the doors.”

Killer barked. “Okay!”

Luke stared at his father before pushing the release on his weapon. “You understand her?”

“Yeah. Scared the shit out of me the first time.”

“Hold your fire,” Janaya directed in a hard voice. “I’ll give the word.”

A tense silence enveloped the room.

“What’s Santana doing here?” Hinekiri said.

Janaya scowled. “He came to steal your charts.”

“The phrullin bastard! He’s mine,” Hinekiri cried.

“You’ll have to line up behind me.” Luke wanted to hurt the slimy bastard.

Janaya flicked the release on her weapon. “I’ll take out Santana,” she said in a hard voice.

“Whatever,” Luke’s father said. “Just don’t leave me to shoot the Torgon while the three of you blast this Santana into ashes.”

“He’s yours, Janaya.” Luke concentrated on the other targets.

Janaya stared at Santana with loathing. All this time, he’d used her to get to Hinekiri. And her father…

“Get ready,” she ordered in a low, terse voice. “Fire!”

Almost as one, the four of them fired their weapons. Three Torgon disintegrated. Santana lost an arm.

“Ready. Fire!”

Three more Torgon fell and Santana lost another arm. He writhed on the ground and Janaya felt nothing but hatred.

“Finish him off, sweetheart.” Luke stepped up beside her, sliding a comforting arm around her waist. “Don’t make him suffer needlessly.”

Janaya knew he was right—making Santana suffer wouldn’t help her pain fade. Dredging up her professional mien, she aimed and fired.

With their leader gone, the rest of the Torgon milled about in confusion. Hinekiri and Luke’s father aimed and fired almost simultaneously.

Richard let out a whoop. “Bull’s eye!”

Hinekiri placed her weapon on the table and walked over to Janaya.

“I’m sorry about Santana.”

Janaya closed her eyes briefly struggling for emotional calm. Everything she’d fought for had disappeared from her grasp. Her promotion, her father’s love.

Her future.

The onslaught of tears blurred her vision.

“I’m sorry.” Guilt and pain formed a lump of anguish in her throat. She coughed. “I’ve put you all in danger. Santana knew where to find us because Father told him.”

“Your father, my brother, is a worthless fodo bird. I’ve held my tongue all these years because he is your father and I know you love him. But we have to face facts. He’s a selfish, devious, overbearing male who wouldn’t know the meaning of love and loyalty if it bit him on his big toe.”

Janaya tried to laugh but only managed a feeble sniff.

“Oh, Janaya.” Hinekiri cupped Janaya’s face with her hands and looked deep into her eyes. “I love you, child. You’re the daughter I’ve never had. I’ve never told you in words because I thought you realized how much I care for you. You’re my daughter in every way that matters.”

Janaya sniffed again. Tears backed up behind her eyes. No amount of blinking stopped them and soon they poured down her face. “I love you too.”

“Good,” Hinekiri said briskly, her eyes looking suspiciously bright. “I suggest we celebrate the way we kicked those Torgon asses.”

“You’re still in trouble for flying off to Africa without telling me,” Janaya said.

“At five in the afternoon with a faulty cloaking device,” Luke said. “You have no idea the trouble you’ve caused.”

Luke’s father chuckled. “Rattled a few cages. Thought we might. I haven’t had so much fun in ages.”

Janaya looked from Hinekiri to Richard to Luke. Despite their sniping at each other, they were grinning. She knew Luke admired his father and she could see why.

“When is food?” Killer demanded, rubbing her head against Richard’s leg. When he acted too slowly for her liking, she gave him a sly nip in the calf.