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Authors: Jaine Fenn

BOOK: Guardians of Paradise
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Taro felt a surge of emotions: sorrow for her pain, helplessness at not being able to do more to help her, joy that she’d let him in this far, and that familiar dash of lust.
 
They stood there in silence while the mist turned to rain. Taro felt the heavy drops hit his head, soaking his hair, dripping off the ends and under the collar of his coat. He didn’t care. He’d stay there until he drowned if she needed him to.
 
Nual pulled back, but kept hold of his hand as they walked back to the sprawling house perched on the cliff-top. The nearest door opened for them as they approached, and lights came on in the glass-roofed room full of plants - most of them dead or dying - that Nual had called the conservatory.
 
The house still amazed him: so many rooms, so much
stuff
, all for one person. And now, even more amazingly, it belonged to Nual. The old cove she’d visited when they’d first arrived on Khathryn had told Nual that Elarn Reen had never changed her will - so everything that had been hers was now Nual’s. Taro was still hazy on exactly what the relationship between the two women had been. He’d asked Nual, and she’d said Elarn had been a lonely person who’d projected her needs onto those around her. That hadn’t exactly cleared things up.
 
They walked from the conservatory into the lushly carpeted hall that ran through the centre of the house to find the wallscreen at the far end flashing and chiming to itself. Taro felt a tinge of fear as Nual went over to read the display.
 
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It’s just the autopilot on the aircar.’
 
‘Right.’ Taro exhaled. ‘What’s it saying?’ Dealing with machines was one of many new skills Nual was teaching him.
 
‘Apparently the rental agreement will be invalidated if we attempt to fly after dark in this weather,’ said Nual. ‘I suspect the autopilot won’t even let us take off. And neither of us actually knows how to fly an aircar manually.’
 
‘Does that mean we’re staying here tonight after all?’ Nothing would make him happier than the two of them spending some time here alone, but the Sidhe knew about Nual and Elarn, and once they realised she’d left Vellern this would be one of the first places they’d look for their renegade. Although their enemies’ reach was limited by their need for secrecy, Nual was paranoid enough that she hadn’t linked her personal coms device into the local network - and the com wasn’t even registered in a name the Sidhe knew. Now she’d laid Elarn Reen to rest, they’d be stupid to hang around here for long.
 
‘We don’t have much choice. We might as well make ourselves comfortable.’
 
Taro allowed himself to hope that her idea of getting comfortable might finally match up to his. Though their impressively believable IDs claimed they were brother and sister, and they’d had separate cabins on the starliners, that was just their cover, and Taro had noticed that the late Medame Reen’s house had several large, comfortable-looking bedrooms.
 
But Nual actually meant they should get something to eat. She led him into a spotless kitchen full of wooden cupboards and shiny tech. Taro knew two ways to cook food: you put it in a pot on a firebox, or you cut it up and put it inside the firebox. He didn’t want to risk breaking or burning anything, so he sat at the central table and left Nual to it. Elarn must’ve changed her kitchen round after Nual left, and it took her a while to find stuff. She didn’t like him watching her, so he stared at the rain streaming down the outside of the window. She didn’t want to talk either, so he kept quiet.
 
The house had a room just for eating in, but the kitchen table was way big enough for the two of them. ‘It’s curried mince and noodles,’ said Nual as they tucked into the steaming food. ‘An odd combination, but there wasn’t much choice.’
 
‘Tastes great,’ he said through a mouthful of noodles. And it did, especially compared to a lot of things he’d eaten. He remembered how Nual had bought him a meal when they’d first met, though back then he’d been in no position to appreciate it. Hard to believe that was only four weeks ago.
 
He stopped short of licking the plate, now he knew that wasn’t acceptable behaviour in polite society. Nual ate her food more slowly, and left some noodles, which she offered to him. Taro was pretty full, but a lifetime of borderline starvation had left him with a lot of catching up to do. Once he’d finished, he thought about offering to clear up, though he was feeling a bit bloated.
 
Before he could say anything Nual leaned forward on her elbows, not quite looking at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
 
‘Fer—For what?’ He was trying hard to stop using Undertow patois; what was cool as fuck in Khesh City got him funny looks everywhere else. Even Nual had started to say ‘yes’ instead of ‘aye’ sometimes.
 
‘For excluding you. Stopping you getting close - no, Taro, not just in that way. Since we arrived on Khathryn I’ve been projecting misery, making myself unapproachable - forcing you away. I mustn’t do that.’
 
‘By forcing me away, d’you mean using your evil alien mind-powers on me?’ He tried to make a joke of it, but it sounded feeble.
 
‘Maybe I am,’ said Nual miserably. ‘I’m not sure. Half the time I don’t even know I’m doing it.’
 
‘If you can’t help it, then it ain’t your fault, right?’ He wasn’t scared of her. Perhaps he should be, but he wasn’t.
 
‘It’s not that simple.’
 
‘’Course it is. So you’re Sidhe, and you can fuck with people’s heads. Most of the time you don’t, ’cause you keep all that stuff bottled up. But with me . . .’ He paused. Now they were getting to the heart of it, sidling up to the conversation she’d been avoiding ever since they left Khesh. ‘With me it’s different, ain’t it? ’Cause we’ve been . . .’ He searched for a way to describe the strange bond they shared.
 
Nual whispered, ‘In unity. We’ve been in unity.’
 
‘Aye—I mean, yeah. So it’s all right. I know you won’t screw with my head on purpose. But sometimes you can’t help influencing me a bit, even when you don’t know you’re doing it. I don’t mind. Really, I don’t.’
 
‘I know,’ she whispered. Then she looked up, meeting his eyes. ‘If I ever hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself.’
 
Even as her words set off a warm glow in his chest, his hormones cut in and he found himself saying, ‘Then let’s go to bed! ’Cause it does hurt me, us both feeling like this but not doing anything about it!’
 
She looked away and said quietly, ‘I won’t sleep with you, because if I did, then I
would
hurt you. Or worse.’
 
He couldn’t -
wouldn’t
- believe that. ‘Is that what happened with Elarn? Was her and you . . . was it more than her just looking after you?’
 
Nual nodded. ‘She found herself attracted to me, though such emotions went against her sexuality and her religious upbringing. I was young and scared and desperately lonely, so I responded. But before things went too far she realised what I was, and she threw me out. I was surprised she left her will unchanged; I imagine she had planned to alter it as soon as the right man came along. Poor Elarn: it says a lot about how lonely she was that that never happened. ’
 
‘But that was, what, seven years ago, weren’t it? You was a lot younger.’ Seventeen: the same age Taro was now, though he wasn’t going to mention that. ‘You got more control now.’ He paused, then decided this wasn’t the time for subtlety. ‘And Medame Reen, she seemed nice enough, and we should be grateful she left you her stuff an’ all, but you said it yourself: her and you, that was a mistake. She was hardly hot for it, was she? Now me, I know what I’m doing when it comes to the grind.’
 
Nual smiled. ‘So you are saying that your previous profession and experience would make you more . . . shall we say
resilient
to sex with a Sidhe?’ She sounded amused, but Taro was deadly serious.
 
‘Yeah, I am.’ She wanted him; it didn’t take scary mind-powers to work that out. He just needed to persuade her that she wouldn’t end up sucking his brain out through his cock.
 
Nual took a sudden intense interest in the pattern of the stone floor. ‘I have no way of knowing what would happen - how far I might end up going.’
 
‘You mean you’ve never—? Oh! Shit, I didn’t . . . I mean, I assumed you’d . . . But I s’pose you wouldn’t’ve. Right.’
 
She managed to get her gaze up as far as Taro’s hands, lying flat on the table. ‘No, I haven’t. I see you find that all but incomprehensible. And you may be right; my fears may be unjustified.’
 
Taro said gently, ‘Then how ’bout we start with a kiss? And if my head falls off, we’ll leave it at that.’
 
For a while she said nothing, then she looked at him and smiled. ‘I could use some comfort at the moment,’ she said, ‘but just a kiss, for now.’
 
It was better than nothing. When she didn’t move, Taro eased his chair back and walked round to her side of the table. Nual turned to him, but she stayed sitting, as though that would stop her getting carried away. Taro crouched in front of her. Being so tall, he could look her in the eyes; he still had no name for that colour: somewhere between violet and the darkness of space. She looked worried, almost shy, an expression he’d not seen on her before.
 
‘We’ll take it slow,’ he said. He put a hand on her knee and leaned forward.
 
She began to bend towards him. He could feel the heat of her. He closed his eyes.
 
‘Can you hear something?’ she whispered.
 
All he could hear was the sound of the rain and his thudding heart . . . or was that a faint, insistent chime? ‘Don’t think so,’ he murmured.
 
More loudly, Nual said, ‘It’s the alarm on the house com.’
 
Taro scooted out of the way as she stood up. If that was the aircar saying the storm was blowing over and it would be happy to take them back to Kendall’s Wharf now, then he’d find something heavy and blunt and seriously
invalidate the rental
on the fucking thing.
 
He followed Nual out into the hall. ‘What’s up? More bad weather?’
 
Nual looked up from the screen. ‘No, visitors.’
 
‘Who?’ Taro wiped suddenly sweaty palms on his thighs. ‘Does it say?’
 
‘We’re picking them up because of Elarn’s paranoia. After I left she installed
very
good security, because she knew my sisters would come looking for me one day - as indeed they did. Whoever this is, they are being stealthy, and they aren’t transmitting a greeting.’
 
‘But they’re definitely headed for the house?’
 
‘There’s nothing else out here.’
 
Taro took a deep breath, and found he didn’t feel as scared as he expected to. ‘I’ll get the gun,’ he said.
 
CHAPTER TWO
 
It occurred to Jarek as he drove at well over the local speed limit through weather bad even by Khathryn standards that even if he did catch up with the aircar flying half a klick in front of him, there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do. His current resources consisted of this aircar - souped up by the less-than-reputable yard he’d hired it from, but hardly a performance vehicle - and his dartgun, loaded - as usual - with tranq.
 
He’d think of something. He couldn’t just turn around and return to Kendall’s Wharf now: the car ahead had crossed the Ornsay Strait and was still heading south. There was only one place it could be going. He thought about calling the house again, but he’d been trying on and off ever since he’d arrived in-system two days ago. Initially he’d assumed Elarn was in - it wasn’t like she ever went anywhere - but, stubborn as ever, was refusing to take his calls. This afternoon he’d resorted to calling her agent, who’d frostily told him that she’d taken a trip out-of-system some weeks ago and was due back any day.
Elarn leaving Khathryn?
He wasn’t sure he believed that.
 
He kept his distance over the sparse woodlands, flying low in case the larger vehicle in front was checking for a tail. He couldn’t think of any good reason for an unmarked private aircar to be coming out this way, so when his contact in traffic control had called him to report a vehicle making a sudden and unscheduled trip due south - just as he’d been bribed to do - Jarek had decided to follow up the lead. His suspicions were heightened when he discovered they weren’t broadcasting a hail . . . then again, neither was he.
 
The other car slowed and landed in a clearing in the woods, fifty metres short of the bot-maintained rough parkland surrounding the house. It put down just outside the range of the house’s surveillance - or at least, just outside the range of the security package Elarn had had the last time he’d visited her, seven years ago.

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