Cloud Rebel: R-D 3 (10 page)

Honey, you're treading shaky ground
, I warned.

"You know about Lissa." Winkler's words were flat, his depression immediate.

"We didn't intend to open old wounds," I apologized to Winkler.

"It's all right," he held up a hand. I knew he was lying; I just didn't want to make things worse for him. And it would be interfering to tell him that in the future, Lissa was just fine, thanks. The thing was, someone had already alluded to that fact; Winkler just didn't know what to make of it.

We all had many paths to walk before the future arrived. I wanted to sigh. I forced myself not to do so.

* * *

"Will I turn into something?" Jennifer now stood beside me as I stared out the plate-glass windows at the gulf, lit only by a waxing moon. Somewhere out there, Winkler and his son were attempting to teach Brett what it meant to be werewolf.

"No, hon," I draped an arm about her shoulders. "You weren't meant to turn. What you'll do eventually is tap into others' thoughts. You'll know who has murder on their minds, or sometimes, who's committed it, if they're thinking about it."

"That's frightening," she shivered.

"I know." I hugged her tighter. When Maye was turned, she'd been a volunteer, fully advised on the potential effects of the drug. Jennifer hadn't had a choice. I understood what that felt like, although I'd gotten the drug directly, instead of a survivor's blood after the fact.

Maye hadn't fought PTSD, either. Jen struggled with it, just as she struggled with emerging memories that weren't her own. I wasn't sure Richard would have a chance with her-she was beginning to realize how detrimental the drug actually was.

"Rinnelar," Rafe's voice interrupted my thoughts. Jen and I turned at the same time to see what he wanted.

"There's something on the news I think you should see," he said. Jen and I followed him toward the media room.

* * *

The devastation in Star Cove, Texas, not far from where we were, looked as if someone had set off a bomb, there.

"Twenty-eight years ago, Star Cove was destroyed. Since then it has been rebuilt, only to suffer nearly the same fate," the journalist declared. "While some homes still stand, most along the main canal have been obliterated. Authorities are attempting to search through debris for survivors and bodies, but in places, it is still too hot to make the attempt. A cause for this explosion and fire is still under investigation."

"Those fucking Elemaiya," I snapped. "I knew they were trouble the minute I saw them."

* * *

"How did they get here?" Winkler was exhausted when dawn arrived; still, he wanted to hear about Star Cove. He'd built the small town initially, before its first destruction, then rebuilt it afterward and sold the property. "I thought Ashe got rid of the fuckers."

"He did, and prevented them from gating in again," Val explained. He, Winkler and I were having a private meeting on the beach house's deck while the others stayed inside the house. As a precaution, Val placed a soundproof shield about us, so nobody else would hear our conversation.

"Then how?" Winkler buried his face in his hands.

"They arrived by more conventional means, courtesy of the ASD," I said. "That's Alliance Security Detail, in case you haven't heard of it before. They arrived by ship, then by anti-grav transport to the planet. They were sent to hunt the remnants of drug survivors, clones and any remaining drug. You see how quickly they became distracted."

"What distracted them?" Winkler dropped his hands and turned dark eyes on me.

"What they were sent here for in the beginning," I shrugged. "The Dark King and Bright Queen have sent them to find their crowns."

"They're not here," Winkler growled.

"We know that; they do not," Val interjected. "Rinnelar and I know where the crowns are in the future; the current King and Queen will never see or touch them again."

"What are we supposed to do about these four, now?" Winkler asked. "It took Ashe to defeat them before."

"Ashe was only coming into his power at the time," Val pointed out. "Perhaps Rinnelar and I can do something about them, now."

"It looks as if your hands are full already, if what Matt says is accurate."

"Matt is still in the dog house, in my opinion," I said. "Meanwhile, those Elemaiyan murderers think they'll get away with this."

"I can have the Corpus Christi Pack hunt them in two days, at the full moon," Winkler offered.

"At least one of them can level power blasts," Val said. "Your wolves will die if they attempt to take that one."

"This sucks," Winkler muttered.

"Perhaps I will ask my father to notify Ildevar Wyyld of their betrayal," Val said. "It will require careful maneuvering, but it can be arranged."

"Do it," I said. "Somebody needs to reel these fuckers in before more people die. Families died in those blasts, Val," I flung out a hand.

"Then I will contact Father now," he said and disappeared.

"I'd give anything to be able to do that," Winkler sighed.

"Come on, I'll make coffee for you," I offered. "He'll be back in a few, but you look like you haven't slept for a week."

"I feel like it, too," he said and followed me into the house.

* * *

Wyyld II

Ildevar Wyyld, Founder

Reth Alliance (future)

"I barely remember that," I said. Nefrigar and Valegar, his second son, stood in my study. They'd brought news of an event that had happened more than four centuries earlier.

"In my estimation, at least twenty-two humans died in those blasts," Valegar said.

"In the past, I don't recall hearing of this," I countered.

"Humans attributed it to other causes, because they didn't have evidence or reason to believe otherwise," Nefrigar said.

Nefrigar, Chief Archivist for the Larentii Archives, was a depository of information in his own right. Most of what he housed in the Archives also resided in his head.

"How will this affect the timeline?" I asked.

"It will not affect it, if you or your past self asks for help from the powerful to intervene."

"Whom should I contact, then?" I asked.

"I suggest someone familiar with that world," Valegar said.

"Who?"

"Belen."

"He outranks me, you know."

"We're aware," Nefrigar admitted. "Nevertheless, he could prove himself invaluable in this case. It is my suspicion that Belen is one of the few who can transcend the timelines in any guise and at any point."

"Fascinating theory. I'd like to discuss that with you, sometime."

"As you wish it," Nefrigar smiled. "I think of him as a recurring comet, who travels at will through the universes. I believe he was created for that purpose."

"Now, my curiosity is certainly aroused," I said. "Perhaps I will discuss this with Breanne when I see her again."

"I would very much like to hear what she has to say," Nefrigar offered a slight nod. His eyes were alight with speculation, however, which was wondrous to see. I think even the higher gods would pause before engaging in debate with the Larentii Archivist.

"Very well, I shall contact Belen immediately," I agreed. "I will present your request most persuasively."

"We thank you," Nefrigar said. He and Valegar disappeared, leaving me to ponder his words.

* * *

Unofficial communication from:

Geethe Cheriss, Prime Potentate of Lyristolys

To: Outland Commander Fisk Boralus

Subject: Drug Survivors, Clones and Contraband Drug Supplies

Communication received on multiple survivors and clones. It is the decision of the Hidden Council and myself that planet Earth be eliminated. Ensure that it appears to be the work of dissident members of the population. Standard protocol is engaged. Accomplish destruction at earliest opportunity. All evidence of this communication must be destroyed upon receipt.

Fisk looked up from the comp-vid to study his team. It included a mute Sirenali, who'd had his tongue removed at birth. Keeping the Sirenali with the team ensured that the powerful would have no knowledge of his presence-as long as they remained within the Sirenali's protective range. The Sirenali had been appropriated by the Lyristolyi government after dismantling a criminal organization. He'd been subjugated by the Hidden Council ever since.

Fisk smiled grimly. He had a job to do-and a planet to destroy. "Standard protocol is engaged," he announced and erased the message on his comp-vid.

* * *

Corinne

Val, Rafe and I accompanied Winkler to Star Cove-at least the remnants of it. News crews were milling about-streets into the small community were tied off with crime scene tape.

More than one journalist recognized Winkler when he stepped out of his SUV; microphones appeared in hands immediately and all of them crowded about him.

"Was it a gas explosion?" One of them demanded.

"Everything in the community is electric," Winkler waved off the speculation with one hand. "A gas grill certainly couldn't cause that sort of devastation," he added. "I think this was done deliberately."

"By whom? One of your enemies?" Someone else asked.

"I haven't owned any property here or had any dealings with this community in more than twenty-five years," Winkler replied. "If they're after me, they're a bit slow on the uptake."

"Please, allow Mr. Winkler to pass," Rafe stepped in to act as Winkler's temporary bodyguard. The county sheriff, who'd been talking with local police and two FBI agents, began walking toward the yellow tape which flipped and bounced in the breeze off the gulf.

He recognized Winkler, too, as did the FBI. This meant we'd be let through, while the carrion-crow-minded-media would have to remain behind.

An FBI agent held the tape up so Winkler and his entourage could slip through. I could hear journalists shouting more questions at our backs. I considered a swift, heavy downpour over them-but that would require a bit of cloud manipulation over our heads. I decided against it.

Val chuckled beside me.

"We're pretty sure this was planned-the investigation has turned up evidence that a rocket launcher or some other weapon may have been used," the sheriff said as we walked toward the remnants of burned and blasted houses.

"We just can't determine the reason this community was targeted," one of the FBI agents added. "Nobody living here should have been on anyone's hit list."

"We need Matt Michaels here," Winkler said. "I have a theory-which has nothing to do with me, by the way-but I'd feel more comfortable explaining everything to him, first."

"He's on the way-flew out of D.C. an hour ago," the other agent said. "Probably be here in three hours, depending on the speed of the military jet he took. Scheduled to land at the Naval Air Station in Corpus."

Human methods of travel are so slow and mundane
, Val sent.

I hear that
, I agreed. Ever since I'd been able to fold space, it was my preferred means of travel.

At least the burned bodies of adults and children had already been removed-if that hadn't happened, I'd have been even more furious than I was as we studied the destruction caused by four Elemaiya.

I want to kill them
, I sent to Val.

Dearest, can you find them-by
Looking
? I fear you cannot
, he replied.
I have already attempted it. They are hiding behind a Sirenali, now, I think. No idea how they managed to capture one, nevertheless, it is done. Perhaps one of the gods will assist us in our search
, Val's words were enigmatic.

Then I hope he gets here soon
, I grumped.

The gods appear in their own time, and not by any plan or desire of others
, Val quoted.

I suppose that's in a Larentii book somewhere
, I said.

Dearest, you have not had time to read all of them, yet
. I'd just made him smile.

So a god is coming to save our asses?
I went back to our original conversation.

Our asses, as you put it, do not need saving. Human asses, on the other hand, do
.

Right
.
What about those ass-hats from Lyristolys? The other ones we can't find?
My mental voice sounded petulant.
That doesn't even include the clones and any drug survivors with less than stellar intentions
.

We are assisting with those searches, and doing what we can to keep those about us alive and well. Far more than most Larentii are allowed or willing to do
.

Hmmph
.

Dearest, when we get back to the beach house, I hope you will allow me to take your mind off all this.

How do you propose to do that?

I shouldn't have asked, especially in that tone of mental disbelief. The wave of sexual desire that washed over me almost sent me to my knees. Val took my elbow to prevent that. Unfortunately, his touch only made the desire more acute. If I'd known what sort of sexual mojo a male Larentii possessed, I'd have kept my mental mouth shut.