Price of a Bounty - By S. L. Wallace Page 0,53

for several minutes. When my thoughts circled around to what Elaine Ramsey had tried to do to Keira and then to what Lance Beckett had done to April, I knew I’d found my answer.

“Sometimes. Yes.”

“Oh.” April looked down at her hands. “I wonder if there’s another way.”

“You sound like Guy.”

“He’ll be good for her, won’t he? He’ll challenge her to think about things like that?”

“Yes, he will. You know, I don’t think many people are capable of doing what Keira does. It makes me feel terrible though, knowing that enough bad things have happened to her to allow her to be able to do what she does on a regular basis.”

“I know what you mean.”

We were both quiet for a while, lost in thought.

“April?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I thought…I mean, I didn’t think he would…”

“I know. You couldn’t have. I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t let anyone know. It’s all right now, Scott. I’m safe now.” April leaned her head on my shoulder.

She shouldn’t be comforting me! I put my life on the line to save strangers all the time, yet I’d failed to protect both of my sisters. I shook my head. April was truly amazing. In her own gentle way, she had just forgiven me.

She was quiet for a little while, and then she spoke so softly I almost missed it.

“Scott, do you think Keira focuses too much on their death?”

“Who’s death?”

“Mom’s and Dad’s. I’m just asking because, well, look how she is and look how I am.”

“Maybe, but it’s more likely a result of her years on the streets and her personality. You two were always so different. That’s probably why you became such good friends.” I smiled at her.

She nodded. “Probably. I don’t remember it at all.”

“Don’t remember what?”

“When they died. I think I’ve blocked it. I just remember snippets really, of good times with them, and then living with Aunt Cady.”

April had been really little, just six. “What do you remember?”

“Mama dancing with me, swinging me around in her arms and singing me to sleep at night. Daddy telling me stories and drawing pictures – I know now that they were his architectural design plans.” She smiled at me. “He would give me paper and crayons so I could work alongside him.”

“He did that when I was little too.”

“Sometimes they visit me in my dreams. I know they’re just memories, but I like to think of them as visits.”

“Those are all really good memories, April.”

“It’s not what Keira thinks about.”

“No? Why do you say that?”

“Because she has nightmares all the time, at least she did when we lived together. She didn’t think I knew, but she would call out in her sleep. And, she would say, ‘They shouldn’t have died like that!’”

“Yeah, she’s said that to me too.” I looked at April. “You think she needs to talk about it?”

She nodded. “But she never would with me.”

“Maybe she’ll open up more with Guy.”

“I hope so.”

“Or maybe he’ll be reason enough for the nightmares to stop.” I nodded out the window. “We’re almost there.”

-April-

Leaving Tkaron

The airport consisted of a large parking area, a long silver building with a lot of windows and a number of runways that spread out into the distance. Like most citizens, I’d never flown before. Air travel was reserved for military personnel with special passes, for some business leaders hoping their counterparts in Mediterra would finally share a few of their secrets and for the Elite who had family in other realms.

As I turned to open the door, Scott laid his hand on my arm. “Act like you own the place, and that I’ve been given the privilege of escorting you to your destination overseas. Don’t defer to me, all right?”

I nodded and took a deep breath. Then I opened the door and stepped into the sunlight. Scott reached into the backseat for his duffel and the small suitcase I had packed at the safe house.

The terminal towered over us. It took all my effort to not look up, and I had to mask my surprise when the automatic doors silently slid open.

“Right this way, Miss Lafleur.”

Scott gestured toward a row of checkin stations. He smiled at the woman behind the counter and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. I watched as he removed his ID and pass. I opened my purse and withdrew my own ID. I handed it to Scott and then glanced at my fingernails as if bored.

“Miss?”

I looked up at the woman. “Yes?”

“I’ll need to see your travel visa.”

“Oh,

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