Stolen Dreams (26 page)

 

"Really?"
Shara asked, her intuition alerting her to a possible hint of her heritage. "Which cousin
might that be?"

 

"Cyclops—Poseidon's one-eyed son."

 

Shara
hoped that her intuition was wrong. She didn't want to learn that she
had a Noronian ancestor if he turned out to be a mutant monster. "I
don't believe we met him."

 

"No. None of Poseidon's followers
were at
the Summit. They have a commune on the other side of First Province.
Zeus and Poseidon have never been able to share anything ... least of
all center stage. All of Poseidon's protests have been submitted
separately from his brother's."

 

Shara caught a warning look
from
Gabriel and ignored it. "Misha, I wonder if you could help us with
something. We were trying to compile a list of all the people involved
in the Friendship movement. I believe we got everyone who was staying
at Zeus's commune or who attended the meeting. Could you name those who
are loyal to Poseidon? You just have to speak and Beauty will record
you."

 

Misha smiled toward the mirrored pendant on Gabriel's
chest,
clearly flattered to be part of history, and rattled off a list of
about forty names.

 

"Thank you," Gabriel said as soon as Misha
paused. "That will be enough. I hope we have convinced you we are no
threat and only want to leave this time as quickly as possible."

 

"I
am convinced," Misha replied. "But I am not sure how I could help you."

 

"We
need to get back to Zeus's lodge. Any suggestions?"

 

"That
is easy. As long as you are in those uniforms, you can take one of the
scooters in the rear of the building. One word of warning, though. Make sure
you are gone by morning. Security does not have the manpower to spare
at the moment, but by tomorrow, they will be sending teams out to
search Zeus's property for more weapons. If you get picked up again, I
will assume you have not told me the whole truth, and I will deny
knowing you."

 

"Don't worry," Gabriel said, ushering Shara
toward the door. "We'll be long gone by then."

 

The
scooters were where Misha had said they'd be, and Gabriel quickly
examined one. A narrow metal box about a half meter wide and a meter
long formed the base very close to the ground. Beneath it was a single
runner of four wheels and a pipe extending from the back that suggested
it had a propulsion system. Gabriel adjusted the height of the steering
column and crossbar affixed to the other end and located the ignition
button on the right-hand grip.

 

Stepping onto the standing
board, he
told Shara, "Get on and mold yourself to my back as if we were one
body. Try to move only as I move and don't let go of me. The last thing
we need is to attract attention by having an accident before we even
get out of the city."

 

Shara stepped on behind him, wrapped her
arms around his waist . .. and prayed that he was a fast learner.

 

They
had a jerky start and wobbled a bit for a few meters, but Gabriel soon
had them pulling away from the shelter. The position of the setting sun
advised him which direction to travel, but he had to avoid going by the
park, lest anyone should see them too closely, and then he was forced
to take a number of detours to bypass the massive wreckage throughout
the city.

 

Another
tension-filled hour crept by before they finally reached the outskirts.
The moment they were out in the open, Gabriel pushed the ignition
button in as far as it would go, and the scooter increased speed to the
point at which its wheels barely skimmed the grass. In seconds they
were at the top of the hill where the Friends had first looked down on
their targets.

 

Gabriel stopped the scooter and took the time
to
record the scene as it now appeared. He knew that the city would soon
be rebuilt, but it was a depressing sight nonetheless.

 

He
paused
again when they reached the rise above the commune, but for another
reason. "I don't think anyone stayed behind, but these uniforms make us
the enemy here. We might not be given the chance to explain." He
directed Beauty to scan the area for evolved life-forms.

 

As it
did
so, Shara ran a mental check of her own. She had suppressed her
abilities for so long, she hadn't realized she could get such
satisfaction from using them.

 

Assured that no one was about,
they
discarded the uniforms, and Gabriel drove them down to the lodge.
Taking her hand, he hurried Shara inside. "Put the belt on, and let's
get out of here."

 

Away from imminent danger, Shara's mind had
reorganized the order of her priorities again. "We can't leave yet."

 

He
turned toward her with a stunned look on his face. "I beg your pardon?"

 

She
scrambled for an excuse he might accept. "Misha said no one would be
coming here until tomorrow. I'm filthy, I'm starving, and I'm
exhausted. What if we time-hop into another crisis? You may be able to go days without sleep, but I can't.
Gabriel, please, I can't go on like this."

 

He
didn't like the idea of sticking around another microsecond, but her
point was well taken. "All right. We can shower and have a meal here,
but then we head back to where we hopped in to get some sleep. It won't
take long with the scooter."

 

She rose on tiptoe and kissed his
cheek. "Thank you."

 

His hands moved to bring her closer, but
she spun away too quickly.

 

"Clean clothes!" she said
exuberantly. "I must have clean clothes."

 

"I'd suggest we wear
the tunics until we're ready to leave—just in case we run into one of
the neighbors unexpectedly."

 

She grimaced. "All right. I'll
wash it while I shower."

 

Not
certain he could keep his hands off her if they showered together, he
suggested she go first while he found something for them to eat.

 

She
reentered the lodge a short time later, feeling much better for having
scrubbed from head to toe. Her tunic was still wet, but at least it was
clean.

 

Gabriel's stomach did a somersault as he watched her
walk
toward him. The way the damp cloth clung to her curves was more
alluring than if she had been nude. He cursed his body's instant
response, knowing the urge had to go unsatisfied until her fever began
to rise again. For a moment he considered telling her his fever was
mounting to gain her cooperation, but as soon as she touched his cool
flesh, she'd know he was lying. Without a word, he headed for the
shower.

 

By the time he returned to her,  he had his thoughts
and his body back under control. They filled up on cold meat, bread,
and fruit juice, and Shara wrapped up some extra food to take along
before they put everything away.

 

He noticed that she didn't
seem to
feel any more talkative than he did, and he was curious about what sort
of thoughts were occupying her mind.

 

As they prepared to go,
he
received a shock. His degrav was missing! He had another stowed inside
his satchel, but it bothered him to know that someone had purposefully
taken it and that an object from the future would be left in the past.

 

It
took some improvising, but he managed to secure their bags to the
steering column of the scooter using his spare degrav and a length of
rope.

 

His nerves would have begun to calm as soon as they
started
away from the commune, if it hadn't been for his heightened awareness
of Shara's voluptuous curves pressing into his back. Within seconds he
was back to being unbearably aroused. Quickly he calculated how long he
might have to wait for relief. The periods between the fever's peaks
were now twenty-three, nineteen, and seventeen hours. Even if this
stretch were reduced by several hours, he still had a long, long time
to restrain himself.

 

Unless she could be convinced to see the
logic
of not waiting for the fever to strike again before taking the cure.
Surely she would understand the rationale of preventative treatment. He
realized that he was once again preoccupied with thoughts of Shara, but
it no longer stirred resentment. He told himself he wasn't losing sight
of his priorities; he was simply accepting what he had no control
over—a reasonable attitude that he desperately wished Shara could adopt
as well.         
 

 

He
hoped this torture would be ended in a few more hours. They would be
back in their own time, receive medical treatment for their condition,
and he could get on with his work . . . and his solitary life.

 

Rather
than giving him a sense of relief, that knowledge clenched a fist
around his heart again and he wondered if he was developing another
disturbing side effect to the fever.

 

Night came as they rode,
but a
clear, full moon lit their path. As he stopped the scooter and
dismounted, he felt the strength ebb from his body. Shara had been
right to suggest they get some rest before attempting the return
time-hop. He was exhausted. After removing their bags from the scooter,
he pulled out the sleeping pouch. The sooner they took a nap, the
sooner they could be on their way.

 

All things considered,
Shara felt
pretty good. She had survived a terrifying chain of events, and though
her mission was not yet accomplished, it could be soon. If one of the
many hair samples she'd collected that morning was a match to
Khameira's. And if she could sneak away from Gabriel long enough to
arrange a brief meeting with the Ruling Tribunal.

 

Gabriel was
already tired, and she knew one sure way to wear him down even further.
It no longer seemed immoral to consider sharing her body with him. He
was certainly not a stranger anymore, and they had established a bond
of sorts. She was acutely aware of the personal danger of freely
coupling with him, but she reminded herself that sometimes the reward
is worth the risk.

 

As fatigued as she was, somehow she would
force herself to stay awake a few more hours and accomplish her primary
goal.

 

She inhaled the fragrance of night-blooming flowers
and scanned the star-filled sky. It was a warm, beautiful night, and
she was with a handsome, desirable man who wanted her badly enough for
her to take advantage of him. The situation could be a lot worse.

 

As
Gabriel spread the pouch on the ground, he felt the wind lift the skirt
of his tunic . . . only there was no wind. He smoothed the material
back down over his buttocks and bent over to straighten the pouch.
Again the tunic blew up and bared him from the waist down.

 

Shara's
giggle gave her mischief away. He whirled around to find that she was
standing too far away to have lifted the material by hand. He started
to question her when she touched a finger to her lips. He didn't
understand until he felt a tug on the braided rope around his waist.
Looking down he saw it untie itself, then slither down his stomach and
between his legs. He held very still as it coiled around one thigh and
snaked its way down to the ground, tickling his genitals in the most
extraordinary way. Next, his paralyzer rod left its sheath and traveled
to the ground on its own.

 

Normally he would have been angry
that she
was using her mind to toy with him, but what she was doing was far too
erotic to be infuriating. Smiling seductively, she eyed the front hem
of his draped tunic, and it began to gather together. Ever so slowly,
it slipped between his thighs, teased its way up his back, over his bare shoulder, then floated through
the air to land at her.

 

Ping!!!

 

Gabriel
removed Beauty and tossed it on the ground. He didn't need some stupid
device to tell him his temperature was rising. Shara slipped out of her
sandals, so he did the same, but otherwise he held still for fear any
movement on his part would cause her to change her mind about toying
with him.

 

Stepping toward him, she said, "I think it's time
for me
to demonstrate that I am the reasonable person I have claimed to be.
Whatever this is between us, I'm done fighting it."

 

As he
stood
there, naked and more than ready, yet waiting for her direction, a
heady power rushed through her. Surely Zeus s nectar would be no match
for the exhilaration she was feeling. Letting the power flood her body
and fuel her purpose, she handed Gabriel the end of her rope belt. He
untied it; then, imitating what she had done to him, he dragged the
material of her tunic over her body as if he were in no hurry to reveal
what she was finally willingly offering, with no coercion whatsoever.

 

When
he tossed the barrier aside, she stepped into his arms. "Let's find out
what we've been missing," she whispered, and rising on tiptoes, she
pressed her lips to his.

 

With the first taste of his mouth,
she
forgot her ulterior motive for this seduction, forgot why she had been
fighting him for so long. Later, when it was absolutely necessary, she
would remember her sensible reasons for not wanting to fully share
herself with this man. But for now, and as long as they had no choice
in the matter, she would enjoy every kiss, every touch, every exciting moment he could give
her.

 

She
couldn't tell if it was her fever reigniting or his talented hands
roaming over her, but her flesh had begun to tingle, and she felt the
stirring of her sexual pulse. Her hands held his hips in place as she
deepened the kiss and moved against him to relay her wish to please
him, for a change. He had been ready when she removed his tunic but she
wanted him more than ready.

 

Slipping her fingers through his
golden
chest hair, she teased his nipples until they puckered for her. Then
she continued dragging her nails slightly down his abdomen while she
lowered herself to her knees before him.