Solar Flare Read online

  Gem smiled as Brandy walked in the room. She didn’t look pregnant yet, but she had a certain glow about her. She’d turned out to be one of those women who felt fabulous when carrying—hence the current population explosion. Her pale blue eyes were glowing as she held her eighteen-month old. The baby’s hand was knotted in her straight brown hair, but Gem didn’t seem to mind.

  Brandy greeted her and absently took the baby. The infant promptly latched onto her aunt’s red hair and cooed as he fell asleep. Brandy gently disentangled him. “I’m not babysitting the full brood, you know. You’re going to have to hire a nanny.”

  Gem smiled. “Probably. You’re not counting on the benefits, though. When you get around to producing children, Baden and Kaden will be old enough to baby-sit.”

  Brandy shuddered. “As if I’d give an innocent baby to those two cannibals.” She watched as their father took the boys aside to deal with their earlier tantrum. “Throw in something about biting aunts,” she suggested loudly. She widened her eyes menacingly at the twins when they shot her looks of protest. She looked at Gem. “So, are you free for a movie? We haven’t had an afternoon to ourselves for a while.”

  Gem shrugged. “Sure. Blue said he’d hold the fort for a while if we wanted to have a couple of hours. I need to buy the boys more pants anyway—they’ve outgrown most of theirs. He thought maybe you’d watch the kids for us later…if you don’t have plans. He wants to take me out to celebrate—I’m pregnant with twin girls this time.”

  “I know,” Brandy said, resigned. “Sure, I’ll watch them. Better yet, I’ll watch Jamir watching them.” She brightened. Jamir was their head chef. The Latq was barely four feet and fine boned, and he’d been with them forever. The boys were in awe of his sharp teeth and the way his milky face turned pink when he waved his wooden spoon at them. They’d picked up some interesting curses in his language, though they didn’t know what the words meant. The important thing was, Jamir was always ready to turn them loose at a worktable with a huge pan of dough and let them make animal shaped buns to their heart’s delight. If they got bored of that before their parents came home, he’d send them out to collect lizard eggs. They always managed to break a few, but that was incidental to keeping the boys occupied.

  They paid Jamir very, very well.

  Gem made a face at her, but didn’t protest. They’d grown up helping in the kitchens and later the tavern. It built character.

  Gem waited until they were in Brandy’s transport, headed to town, before she said casually, “Blue talked to Azor today. Your transport looks to have survived.”

  Brandy grimaced. She wondered how much of Gem’s shopping trip had been planned around grilling her. “It was a memorable evening.”

  “I guess he’s going to come over and work on it this week.”

  Brandy shrugged. “He owes me.” She sensed more coming, but didn’t want to encourage it. Unfortunately silence was meant to be filled, at least with a sister in the car.

  “He’s pretty cute, in his way.”

  “Oh, children and animals adore him,” Brandy said agreeably. “Why, your sons freeze at one blast of his poisonous green eyes. I’ve seen rabid dogs turn and run when he stared at them.”

  “Oh, come on! He’s mellowed with the years and you know it. He doesn’t act cold and dangerous around the family…anymore.”

  “He’s a paragon. A saint,” Brandy agreed, straight-faced. “Especially when he’s dressed as a thug and stealing vehicles. Let’s not forget his penchant for writing speeding tickets, either.”

  “How many times have we mentioned you might want to slow down? You drive like a mad woman. Azor knows you won’t listen to reason. You’re probably the only speeding ticket he’s written in years. I wouldn’t doubt he followed you from the inn just for that purpose.

  “If you ask me, he did us all a favor. He doesn’t want to see you hurt, either.”

  “Ah, the sign of a true hero…lying in wait to arrest his love. Look closely, you can see my heart flutter.” Brandy touched a hand to her heart and batted her lashes.

  Gem sighed and looked out the window. “So, are you seeing anyone these days?” Apparently she’d gotten tired of pushing Azor’s virtues.

  “I’ve been looking on-line. I’ve had an interesting conversation or two,” Brandy admitted, surprising her sister. Her usual system was to dodge any questions of romance, but lately she’d been feeling restless. Gem had moved on. Xera was light-years away, across the galaxy with her alien husband. It made for some rather boring, and lonely, nights.

  Gem actually smiled. “Well, keep me posted. Meanwhile, if you’re looking for a date, there’s this nice guy out on the farm—“

  “No farmers, sis. No miners, farmers, laborers, etc. No neighbors or business associates. I can find my own dates.”

  “Hey, at least I try.”

  “Don’t need you to try. You don’t know what I’m looking for, anyway,” Brandy said firmly, remembering some of the more memorable dates Gem had set up. She meant well, and Brandy had felt like honoring her efforts in the past, but there was only so much a girl could put up with. If she kept going that route, she was going to end up hating men.

  With the exception of her husband, Gem sure didn’t know how to pick ‘em.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Brandy could see Gem fidget. There was obviously something on her mind. “What’s with the twitch?”

  Gem sighed. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking of mom.”

  Brandy glanced at her in surprise. Their mother had died just after she was born, and they rarely discussed her. Their father had been so vibrant, he’d taken up their whole world. At least, that’s how it had been for her.

  Gem opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it. “Maybe not while you’re driving,” she muttered.

  Brandy cast her a puzzled look, but returned to watching traffic. This must be one of those discussions, then. Whatever was on Gem’s mind, it smacked of a lecture. Brandy frowned and hoped Gem would put it off for a good long time.

  Whatever it was, no doubt it could wait.

  CHAPTER 3

  “You’re late.”

  Azor glanced at her over his shoulder. “I didn’t know we had an appointment.” He popped the hood on her transport and stuck his head underneath. He seemed to be wearing the same beat-up clothes he’d played thug in. They suited him better, made him seem more normal, approachable. They also showed off his lean, fit body in a way his uniform couldn’t duplicate. There was nothing like a well-worn pair of pants to showcase a backside. He had nice legs, too. Great thighs, she thought a little wistfully.

  Brandy realized she was looking a little too closely and hastily averted her eyes. Azor was not fodder for romantic inclination. He worked out—good for him. She focused diligently on reading her virtual mail, grateful that her embarrassed moments rarely produced a blush. She’d have had a hard time explaining if he noticed and started asking questions.

  It was true, he’d loosely set the time for after lunch. It was after lunch, though farther after than she’d expected. She’d spent more time watching for him than she’d care to admit, enough that she could have completed the chore herself. That would have defeated the purpose of his coming, though.

  Her electronic tablet blurred, and she realized she wasn’t focused. Since she’d decided to be hospitable, she asked, “Would you like a drink?”

  “Iced juice would be nice,” he said agreeably.

  “Redberry or spiky melon?”

  “Either would be fine.”

  Happy for the excuse to leave, she left her tablet on the workbench and took her time walking to the kitchen. That was easy to do with her limp. Her feet were still bothering her today, even though the rain had stopped. The old breaks throbbed with pain that spiked into her calves and knees. It made her grumpy.

  It had been barely four months since she’d been forced to let Dr. Vhanee remove the bones of her hands and forearms. The pain of the old injuries had bee
n crippling, inflamed with the toxin her tormentor had used to increase her pain. It had turned her joints swollen and deformed before her twentieth birthday. The misshapen bones had been replaced with synthetic bone, with old nerves and muscles grafted on top. Thanks to skin regeneration, there was no trace of scarring where they’d filleted her arms open, but it still made her uneasy to think about it. Sometimes her hands felt cold.

  She’d couldn’t face the thought of going through another operation for her feet; not yet, anyway.

  Azor was smart enough not to comment on her limp as she returned and handed him his drink. Gem nagged her enough as it was. She picked up her tablet.

  “Thanks.” Azor nodded to the tablet. “Any good mail? I noticed the screen,” he said by way of explanation.

  She raised a brow at his nosiness, but thought nothing of it. After all, her family was full of people peering over her shoulder. She’d been known to do the same. “Yes, actually. I’m going to meet someone I met online at a club tonight.”

  A faint frown shadowed his eyes. “Are you taking a girlfriend? It wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

  She gave him a dubious look. “This isn’t a stakeout. I’ll be surrounded by people. If I don’t like him, I’ll leave.”

  He shook his head. “You’re attractive enough that you shouldn’t have to resort to meeting strangers online. There must be a group you can join…or something.”

  She looked down her nose at him. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t be pitiful, would it? Look, I’ve already humored Gem by dating all the men she’s pushed at me. This can’t possibly be worse than some of the dates I’ve put up with.” She didn’t add that Azor was the only single guy Gem knew who hadn’t been tapped—probably because Gem knew her sister would flatly refuse to have anything to do with him. Prolonged exposure to him just made her…tense.

  Take now, for instance. To her memory, she’d never spent so much time alone with him. She could feel herself growing edgy. If it went on much longer she knew she’d start trying to provoke him. It was an instinctive reaction to the disquiet he made her feel.

  He wiped his hands on a rag and held one out. “Give me your com. I’m going to put my home number and pager on quick connect.”

  “I hardly think that’s necessary.” Her grip tightened. She really didn’t want him to have it. She wasn’t ready for the intimacy of quick connect.

  His hand didn’t waver, and his gaze held steady. After a moment she sighed and handed it over. It was just easier. “You’ve been working too hard.”

  “I have good instincts. Besides, you have a habit of getting tangled in ugly things.”

  A muscle jumped in her cheek. “That was not my fault.” Mostly. She could admit to giving in to blackmail, but she hadn’t invited their former brew master, Jean Luc, to mix drugs into his exports. When Azor and his team had come sniffing around The Spark, looking for drugs, she hadn’t hindered the investigation. Of course, she hadn’t helped, either, until she’d been tortured nearly to death by a thug intent on gaining Jean Luc’s secrets.

  She’d kept quiet to protect her sister Xera, but had come out the loser. There were times when silence wasn’t worth the price. They’d had her full cooperation after that, though she’d had to give her confession through a fractured jaw. The memory of the pain, the helpless weeks in a hospital bed, and later, the months in a wheel chair…even the memories still made her faintly nauseous.

  She accepted her com back without comment and collected her tablet. “Thanks for servicing the transport. I’ll see you around.”

  “Brandy.” Azor’s voice was calm, but there was concern as well as command. “Don’t let it stop you from calling.”

  She didn’t turn around. There were times when talking just wasn’t smart.

  She was still thinking about it as she pulled into the club that night. She’d never been to Yazzor’s before, but the club’s reputation was respectable. She parked the transport and stared at the exterior’s glossy, red glass finish, but she didn’t really see it.

  She’d hated Azor on sight. He’d been so cold, so curt, and he had a way of smiling without humor that made her want to claw him.

  He’d been rude and into everything. She’d felt swarmed, pursued as his men had combed the brewery. She’d sworn he’d known she was hiding something even then, but then again, he’d come off that way for a long time, even after the ugly trial that had destroyed her sister’s reputation and nearly ruined hers as well.

  Xera had escaped to the GE, but Brandy had stayed home and tried to live down the scandal. It had taken years, and even now she was considered no catch. Any respectable mother on Polaris would look askance at a son who brought her home. No matter how much money she had, theirs was a conservative planet. It would take a special man to marry her.

  Even her childhood friend M’acht had backed out of their brief, choppy relationship. Rebel though he was, he wasn’t up to taking her on for the rest of his life. Hence her search for a potential suitor. Sometimes a girl had to get aggressive with these things.

  Brandy stepped out of the transport. She was dressed in trendy, but respectable black pants and a burnt orange silk halter-top that covered what it should. She wore a conservative jacket to lend a formal air to the occasion. One couldn’t be too careful with first meetings.

  The club was noisy with gyrating dancers. She had little use for the pastime and wished her date had chosen a quiet restaurant as she’d suggested. It would have been easier to talk.

  She looked over the dancers and blinked. At first glance there seemed to be an unusual number of aliens in attendance, but a moment’s study revealed it was shape-changing Kiuyians she saw. Many of them had played with their form, wearing the heads of birds or predators as a form of disguise. Some had decked their skins in scales, feathers and fur, as if they were engaged in a masked ball. She saw one huge specimen with the black head of a dog and long, blunt nails of polished ebony. He wore no shirt, just a wide beaded collar of gold and jade beads. His black chest rippled with muscle. His eyes, when he glanced her way, were telltale Kiuyian green.

  She knew a Kiuyian could not hold an assumed form forever. When they lost consciousness or slept, they assumed their original form. It was a survival trick, one they’d developed on their long lost world. It was also something they did for fun. Regardless, it gave the place an air of anonymity that made her vaguely uncomfortable.

  She frowned, not because she had anything against Kiuyians, but because it was an odd choice of place to stage a meeting. Her date hadn’t mentioned a Kiuyian heritage, and she’d asked. She always asked.

  She’d been married once. Her husband had been the boy next door, and Kiuyian. She’d been twenty-three, convinced that time was slipping by. He’d wanted to get back at his bigoted father. They’d run off and gotten married, but it had been a disaster. Maybe his father’s attitude had unconsciously poisoned him, for he’d finally admitted he was only attracted to Kiuyian women. They’d dragged the affair out for over two months, sought counseling, but it was useless. He wanted out. She let him go.

  It had taken years to drag her name out of the gutter, for people did not divorce on her world, not without throwing away their honor. She’d contributed tones of money and time to charitable organizations to earn back a measure of respect. Only recently had she been able to date with any success, but one wrong move could wreak everything she’d worked for. Polaris would give second chances for a price; third chances didn’t exist. She had to be careful.

  She found him at the bar, and he looked just like the picture he’d sent. She looked him over. Blond hair worn a little long, brown leather jacket, casual pants, boots. He’d claimed to be an engineer for the power plant. He had odd tastes for someone in a conservative field.

  She made the decision to proceed with caution as she stepped forward. “Darren Topek?” she said as she caught his eye, though there was little doubt of his identity.

  He lit up as looked her over. “Well, hello!
You look even better than your picture, Brandy. I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I always keep my appointments,” she said mildly as she slid onto the stool next to him, though his too warm gaze made her uncomfortable. She noticed he had a second drink with him.

  “I got you something,” he said with a smile. “Tell me what you think.”

  It looked like a sweet drink. She took one sip and grimaced. It was like candy in a glass. “A bit sweet for my tastes, though it was thoughtful of you to order for me.” She caught the bartender’s eye. “Do you have the good scotch? Anything over twenty-five years will do.”

  The man nodded and produced a bottle from under the bar. “No ice?”

  “Never,” she assured him, then turned her attention back to her date. “Don’t be offended—I’m a brew master. We’re unapologetic snobs about drinks.”

  “Of course,” Darren murmured, though he still looked undecided. Maybe his first impression was to run.

  Brandy hid a wry smile behind her glass. “So tell me more about yourself.”

  It was weird. Darren started talking, but her attention gradually wandered. Usually she fixed her dates with her full attention, looking for anything that seemed off. With him, she could only attend him for about four minutes before her gaze went to the dancers. She realized what was happening and frowned at her drink. She was savoring it, and it wasn’t half gone. It shouldn’t be the problem.

  And then the hallucinations began.

  She gripped the counter as her surroundings dissolved into smoke. One image, sharp and clear, was all she could see. Ryven Atarus, her alien brother in law. His irises were flame orange, tinged with gold at the edges. Brimstone eyes, filled with bloodlust. Fear surged in her throat, sent adrenaline through her system in a furious surge. It was not herself she feared for, though. No, those gleaming eyes were not focused on her, but on something dear to her, and far more frightening.