Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,70

of my brothers.”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “There’s that fate thing again.”

Drawing her into his embrace, he lowered his head until their lips almost touched. “I’m all for fate.”

“Which means we need to get up and get going.” With a sigh, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and then slid to the edge of the bed. After swinging her legs over the side, she sat up slowly. She’d already experienced the laetralant aftermath of their lovemaking and knew better than to leap out of bed without testing the waters first. Pleased to find her head reasonably clear, she planted her feet firmly and stood.

“My dear Klara. If you really want us to get going, you ought to rethink the style of your departure.”

She tossed a grin over her shoulder, catching his rueful smile as he pulled on his trousers. “There was a time when I wore clothes to bed. Should I start doing that again?”

“Um, no. That was an observation, not a recommendation.”

“I see.” Crossing the room, she gathered up her clothes, donning them as she went. “We’d better get dressed before Temfilk starts hammering on the door.” She studied the aging wood. “Not sure it would take much to knock it down.”

On the word, the door splintered into fragments, and Nexbit came crashing through the wreckage. “Sorry, boss, but they’re on to us. We’ve got to run!”

Klara snatched up her weapons and sprinted into the main room. “Of all the times not to have a back door.” She recalled the last time they’d been trapped and didn’t think Velkma would appreciate having holes blasted in the walls of her home. “Are we surrounded?”

“Not yet. That Yirland lady just got here and said the Nedwut gangs were headed this way.” He shook his head slowly. “Dunno how we’re going to get out without being seen.”

“Then we need a diversion.” She would have given a lot for a sonic grenade or two to lob at them, but her supply of munitions was limited. “Could you morph into something to distract them?”

Moe stepped up beside her, checking the charge on his pistol. “Or maybe just scare the shit out of them?”

An expression of doubt contorted the Sympaticon’s troll-like face. “I would if I had any idea what would scare a Nedwut.”

“Don’t scare them then,” Klara said. “Morph into Pelarus. That should at least slow them down.”

“In these clothes?” Nexbit indicated his roughly woven tunic. “They’d never believe it.”

She glanced around the room, ensuring that she’d collected all of her belongings. If they could at least get out of the house unseen, she hoped the Nedwuts wouldn’t realize that Velkma had ever harbored them. “They don’t have to believe it. They just have to think twice about shooting you. Think you could mimic his voice?”

“I can try.” Nexbit slowly changed into a form that made Klara shudder.

“What about those posters?” Moe started toward the table, which was bare of any artwork. Even the pencil had been put away.

Velkma placed a hand on his arm and spoke urgently. “There is no need. Yirland took them to be distributed. Listen closely. There is another safe house—the third beyond the crossroad to the east. Zebkra lives there. Some of our number have gone forth to stall the Nedwuts. You should be able to reach safety in time.”

“And what then?” Moe’s voice was grim. “We’re endangering you and everyone we have contact with.”

“We take that risk willingly.” Velkma gave him a push. “Go now, and may the gods be with you.”

Moe didn’t budge. “Yirland only said Nedwuts were headed this way. Why is that so suspicious?”

“Nedwuts rarely come into these residential areas. They prefer to swagger about the city streets and harass the passersby rather than raid private homes.” The old woman snorted. “Not that there is anything private about our homes. They would not hesitate to break in if it suited them.”

“We came in through your front door with a crowd of autograph hounds on our tail,” Moe said. “Anyone could’ve seen the disturbance and reported back to Pelarus. The question is why would they take this long to do anything about it.”

Klara knew what he was thinking. Someone had sold them out. Someone who had to think about it for a while, hating to betray them, but desperate enough to do it anyway. One of Yirland’s envoy, perhaps? Perhaps not. As Moe said, they had walked openly into Velkma’s house. Such news would’ve spread quickly, ultimately reaching one of Pelarus’s spies.

Temfilk opened