Hitting the Target Page 3

  Mia’s fear abruptly turned to white-hot anger. She leaned across the desk and glared at the Commandant.

  “You leave my Neemah alone! I’ve done everything you asked—everything! You just leave her alone!”

  “Naturally, my dear—I wouldn’t dream of harming a single gray hair on her dear old head.” The Commandant gave her a wide, insincere smile. “I tell you what, why don’t you go home and get a good night’s sleep and consider your new assignment again? Then report to me here tomorrow and we’ll see how you feel about it.”

  Mia bit her lip. Was he giving her a choice about doing this? His words seemed to indicate that he was but after all the threats he’d made, she didn’t know what to believe.

  “I am tired,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’ve been working double shifts for weeks.”

  “Well then, get some sleep. Oh, but first, I must show you the alien male who will be your target—if you decide to accept your assignment, that is.”

  He snapped his fingers and the golden glow of his brass lamp was abruptly extinguished, leaving the room in dim gloom. Before Mia could protest, an image was projected onto the wall across from the desk. At first, she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. A tan face surrounded by a mane of golden-brown hair and eyes the clear green of a tropical sea looked into hers. He was big and muscular and frighteningly familiar.

  Mia felt like her heart might stop dead in her chest. It was him—it was the man she’d been dreaming of for so long.

  And he was her target.

  Chapter Three

  Mia felt numb as she took the last tram home to the gray concrete block high rise and the shabby little flat she shared with Neemah.

  How could she do this? How could the Commandant expect her to leave her grandmother and her home—the only home she’d ever known—and go to the strange, decadent South to seduce a man she didn’t even know?

  But you do know him, don’t you? whispered a little voice in her head. After all, you’ve been dreaming about him for months, Mia.

  She pushed the thought away. It was ridiculous—just dreaming about someone didn’t mean you knew them—didn’t give you any kind of an intimate connection with them. And anyway, that was beside the point. What she really wanted to know was, how could a man she’d only dreamed of be real?

  Well, maybe she wouldn’t have to find out. The Commandant had seemed to back away from his threats at the end of their interview. Maybe he would allow her to refuse the assignment, as she hadn’t been able to refuse the first he had given her, Mia thought as she let herself into the small flat.

  “Mia child, is that you?” she heard Neemah call as she closed the door behind her.

  “Yes, Neemah. I’ll be just a second—I want to take off my wet things,” Mia called back.

  The walk from the tram station had been especially miserable tonight and not just because she had the Commandant and the stranger and her new assignment weighing on her mind. The temperature had dropped and a cold, wet snow had started to fall which seemed to soak through her coat and gloves almost at once.

  Teeth chattering, she stripped of her gloves, slipped off her coat, and hung it over the back of one of the rickety kitchen chairs. Recklessly, she flipped the stove to electric and turned it on high. Then she stood as close as she dared to the glowing coils of the stovetop, rubbing her hands together and trying to get warm.

  Just as she was beginning to feel less like a human icicle, her eye caught on her grandmother’s spice rack. The spice rack which had been neat as a pin and perfectly arranged according to Neemah’s exact specifications only that morning…

  Mia felt her heart jump into her throat as she saw that everything was now out of order. Some of the sweet spices had been swapped for the savory ones and a few of the jars were turned around or even upside down.

  Looking around the small kitchen, she saw more things out of place. The hot-mitts weren’t by their accustomed spot by the stove. Instead, someone had thrown one into the corner and the other was on top of the ancient cooling chest beside the sink. The curtains were disordered too—closed tight to hide the plasti-glass window instead of open to let in the light, the way Neemah liked them.

  There were other things too—small but noticeable. It wasn’t as though the tiny kitchen had been robbed—there was nothing missing. But there had been enough changes made that they caught Mia’s eye and sent a chill of fear down her spine.

  Because she knew they were meant to catch her eye.

  Someone had been here—maybe even while she was having her interview with the Commandant. Someone—probably an agent of The EYE—had wanted her to know they could come and go inside the little flat without anyone the wiser.

  “Mia child? You all right?” her grandmother’s whispery voice floated to her from the other room.

  “Just fine, Neemah—only trying to warm up,” she called back through numb lips. Though at the moment, she felt as though she’d never been warm again.

  Quickly, she straightened the little kitchen, putting the hot-mitts and the spices all back in their rightful places and turning off the stove. Then, trying to arrange her face into a carefully neutral mask, she went to find her grandmother.

  Neemah was sitting in her overstuffed chair watching the box, just as she’d been when Mia had left for work.

  “There you are child—are you all right?” Her grandmother looked up at her, squinting with worry. “You’re so pale—look like you saw a haunt!”

  So her face must not look as neutral as she’d hoped. Mia took a deep breath and tried to smile.

  “I’m fine, Neemah—it’s just a really cold night out tonight.” She cleared her throat. “Um, when was the last time you were in the kitchen?”

  “Oh, I guess around lunchtime when I made sourberry stew.” Neemah smiled. “There’s plenty left for supper too. I saved enough for both of us—I’ve been sitting here watching the box and waiting for you to get home so I could heat it up.”

  “And you put everything back? The spices and things I mean?” Mia couldn’t help asking.

  Her grandmother frowned. “Of course I did, child. Haven’t I always taught you that the cooking’s not done until the kitchen is clean and everything is back in its place?”

  “Yes…yes you did, Neemah.”

  Mia felt sick. So she was right—the agents of The EYE had been here while she was talking with the Commandant. They’d slipped in and out without a sound and Neemah hadn’t even known.

  And who knew how close they had been to her vulnerable grandmother? Neemah was tough but she was a little old lady—there was no way she could fight off an attack by trained agents of The EYE.

  The Commandant had left her an unmistakable message—she really had no choice here at all. She was going to do his bidding again. There was no way around it—no way out for her. If she didn’t do as he asked, her grandmother would be killed or worse, sent to the basement of The EYE for torture.

  She would have to go through the Great Barrier and meet the strange man—the one from her dreams—and spy on him for The EYE.

  There was nothing else she could do.

  Chapter Four

  “So how are things on Ormyu Five going?” Sylvan, the Head Chancellor of the Kindred High Council smiled at Treygar of the Lei’on Kindred from the viewscreen. “Are you making headway with the new trade? And have you had any trouble with the country to the north? The People’s Republic I think it’s called?”

  Trey sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. Many Kindred—like the Blood Kindred of which Chancellor Sylvan was one—kept their hair military short. But he was a Lei’on Kindred and his people, few though they were, always wore their hair long and flowing around their shoulders. This was a mark of the beast they kept inside—a reminder that without proper control, any one of them could become their other selves in a heartbeat.

  Trey didn’t worry about his beast, however. He had made peace with it at a young age and now it gave him strength when
he most needed it. And lately, he had needed it a lot since he had been chosen to lead the small contingent of Lei’on Kindred warriors who were participating in the new trade here on Ormyu Five. It had been tough for a while, but things were finally starting to settle down, thank the Goddess and he told Sylvan so.

  “It was rough going at first—the people here in Bountiful are a little bit wild—I think in reaction to the People’s Republic, which is basically a police state. It was hard to know where we fit in. But all of the warriors I brought with me have jobs and homes among the locals now and several have begun Dream Sharing with the native females.”

  “Including you?” Sylvan raised one pale blond eyebrow. He knew Trey’s past—that he had begun Dream Sharing with a girl once, back on his home world of H’ra Prime, and then tragically lost her to a terrible plague which swept through the population, killing most of the females. It had made the population balance unsustainable and forced his people to go looking for a new people to make a genetic trades with. It had also been what pushed Trey himself to study medicine and become a healer.

  He had met Sylvan during the healer training courses they were both taking at the time and they still kept in touch since both males had a lot in common, both being healers and the leaders of their people. Though Trey’s group of warriors was much smaller than the large number Sylvan commanded. The Lei’on Kindred were, sadly, a dying breed. Though now that they had finally settled on a welcoming planet, their numbers might begin to build again.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked if you’d been Dream Sharing—shouldn’t have pried into your life,” Sylvan said, and Trey realized his old friend had interpreted his silence as irritation.

  “No, no—not at all,” he said quickly, shaking his head at the viewscreen. “In fact, I have been having dreams of a female, but I don’t know if it’s really Dream Sharing. And even if it is, I don’t think I can get to her.”

  “What? Why not?” Sylvan frowned. “If the Goddess has sent her visions of this female, you shouldn’t let any barrier stand in your way.”

  “Except that what’s standing in my way is a literal barrier—the Great Barrier,” Trey said dryly.

  “The Great Barrier?” Sylvan frowned. “What’s that?”

  “A huge wall made of magneto-electric energy which bisects the entire continent from East to West,” Trey explained. “The world of Ormyu Five had just the one land mass and it is divided almost exactly in half into two countries—The People’s Republic to the North and Bountiful to the South. The Great Barrier is what divides them. It looks like an enormous pulsing wave of blue energy forever suspended in midair.”

  “And who erected this barrier?” Sylvan asked.

  “The People’s Republic, of course. As I said, they’re nothing more than a police state ruled by a council of dictators who keep the whole country under their thumbs. They claim that the Great Barrier is to protect their citizens and keep undesirables out but it’s clear the true reason for it is to keep the people of the Republic in. If the Barrier was removed, they’d come streaming over the boarder to live in the warmer, less restrictive South and be reunited with the families they lost when it was erected in the first place—I’m sure of it. But they’re stuck and can’t get out.”

  Sylvan shook his head. “A wall never solves anything. It is a foolish, simplistic solution to a complex problem. Whenever you see a leader seeking to divide people rather than unite them, you can be certain he is either a dictator, a fear-monger, or a fool.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly, Brother,” Trey said and sighed.

  “So you think this female you’re dreaming of lives on the wrong side of the Barrier? That she lives in the North?” Sylvan asked.

  “I have reason to think so.” Trey nodded. “Every time I dream of her, she is dressed in a coat and gloves—though they don’t seem to be of very good quality because she’s always shivering.”

  He frowned, remembering the pinched look on the girl’s lovely face. After every dream of her, he woke wishing he could somehow find her and keep her warm. The beast inside him—his Lei’on—made a sleepy purring growl of agreement, adding that he would be happy to come out and curl around the girl to warm her with his fur.

  Not sure how she would feel about that, Trey answered his other half dryly. You’re pretty large to be playing the domestic felinis. You might scare her half to death.

  His beast protested in a dignified way that he was certainly not domesticated—he just didn’t like the idea of the girl in their dreams being cold. And he wouldn’t scare her, he added, since if she was the right female for them, she would be attuned to him and understand that he would never hurt her.

  Trey wasn’t sure if that was right or not, but he forbore to say so in deference to his other half’s feelings.

  “What does she look like?” Sylvan asked curiously, breaking into his silent communication. “I know the people of Ormyu Five are humanoid in appearance, but do they have different hair and skin coloration than those of Earth?”

  “Somewhat,” Trey admitted. “Skin, hair, and eye color vary widely here in the South but in the North, in the People’s Republic, they tend to look a lot like Blood Kindred with pale skin, white-blond hair, and light eyes. Also, the females tend to be on the slender side.”

  “Ah—so is that what your little female looks like?” Sylvan asked.

  Trey shook his head.

  “No, she’s different. Beautifully different.” He half closed his eyes, remembering her from his dream.

  “Different how?” Sylvan asked. “Is she not blonde with light eyes?”

  “She does have light eyes—a pale, pearly blue like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Trey admitted. “But her skin is a warm, creamy brown and her hair is long and black—longer than mine, even,” he added. “Also, she’s not too thin, like most of the Northern women.”

  “Ah—an Elite then?” Sylvan asked, using the Kindred term for a female who had been blessed by the Goddess with extra-bountiful curves.

  “Exactly.” Trey nodded. “She has a very ripe figure. And with those pearly blue eyes and gorgeous skin, I’d know her in a heartbeat if I saw her.” He sighed. “But I doubt I have any chance of seeing her outside my dreams.”

  “The Goddess would not have allowed you to start Dream Sharing with this girl if there was no way for you to get to her,” Sylvan objected. “Can’t you send a delegation to the People’s Republic and at least open negotiations? After all, if you stay there, I’m sure you won’t be the only warrior who starts Dream Sharing with a female from the North.”

  “We tried to make friendly overtures when we first came here,” Trey told him. “Bountiful welcomed us at once but the People’s Republic sent back a terse message that they were a closed country and didn’t want anything to do with ‘aliens.’”

  “That’s a problem then,” Sylvan admitted. “And there’s no getting through this Great Barrier you spoke of?”

  “People try it nearly every day,” Trey said grimly. “Because it takes a great deal of energy to maintain, the power grid of the People’s Republic is barely able to take the strain. Which means it flickers constantly. There are people who wait for these flickers—sometimes they last a few seconds—sometimes as much as a few hours.”

  “So, they run across the no-man’s land area where the Barrier usually is when it flickers off?” Sylvan lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “That doesn’t sound like a very effective wall.”

  “What wall really is when people are determined to get out or in?” Trey said. “But in this case, anyone who tries to cross is taking their life in their hands. You can never tell how long a flicker will be and if you’re in the middle of the No Man’s Land when the Great Barrier comes back into existence, you’re instantly fried with a trillion volts of magno-electric power. And if the Barrier itself doesn’t get you, the guards stationed along it probably will.”

  “Are they shooting deserters then?” Sylvan asked.

&nbs
p; Trey nodded grimly. “On sight. Anyone who even looks like they might be trying to get through the Barrier is likely to get a pulse-pistol blast to the guts.”

  Sylvan winced. “That’s barbaric!”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Brother,” Trey told him. “But that’s the way it is here and that’s the way it will remain as long as the dictating council of the Republic stays in power. And they will stay in power as long as the Great Barrier stays up.”

  “That does present a large problem with trying to Claim your bride.” Sylvan wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully. “What about taking a shuttle in stealth mode and bringing her away that way?”

  “I thought about it,” Trey admitted. “But the girl doesn’t even know me. And I’m not sure where in the country she is.” He sighed. “If I even met her once, my beast could track her—he’d have a permanent homing signal on her. But I’ve never seen her outside my dreams.”

  “Yes, I had heard that Lei’on Kindred had a special way of keeping track of their mates—even before they were fully bonded,” Sylvan said thoughtfully. “So your beast could sense her and find her for you?”

  “Only after he’s come out and met her,” Trey said. “But even if I somehow managed to locate her without meeting her first, I couldn’t just swoop down on her and kidnap her away from her home. She’d hate me right from the start! It’s no fit way to begin a Claiming.”

  “True.” Sylvan sighed. “All right, I’m as stumped as you are, Brother. But I still strongly believe that the Goddess wouldn’t have allowed you to start Dream Sharing with this girl if there was no way to get to her.” He brightened. “Maybe she will somehow bring the one you are dreaming of to you instead of the other way around.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Trey said dryly. “It certainly would be convenient if she would just fall into my arms.”

  “Don’t discount the possibility,” Sylvan said seriously. “Stranger things have happened.”