Sweet Starfire (27 page)

Before she could protest, he sealed her mouth with his own. Beneath him he felt her stir, and the movement of her naked body began the chain reaction that led to the hardening in his groin. Severance forced himself to stay under control. He was going to make it right for her. If he satisfied her completely, maybe she would be able to accept her normal passions. She had to accept them. Damned if he would let her kill herself because he’d made love to her.

Clamping down on his rioting reactions, Severance deliberately began to stroke and coax the response he wanted from Cidra. After a brief struggle that seemed to stem more from her surprise and confusion than any real desire to fight him, she stopped resisting. Her arms went around his neck, and he knew a vast sense of relief. It was going to be all right this time. He could make her want him.

“Say it, Cidra. Say you want me.” He probed between her legs, finding the nubbin of exquisitely sensitive female flesh. He flicked lightly with his fingers and felt her react almost at once. “Say it, sweetheart.”

“I want you,” she whispered, arching against his hand. He kept up the light teasing between her thighs while he lowered his head to draw first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. She shivered in his hold, and another wave of satisfaction went through him. Relentlessly he kept up the tender assault, even after she was trembling under his hands. She responded to him the way a flower responded to sunlight, opening herself and welcoming him.

“Severance. Please. I can’t stand any more.” Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her head arched back over his arm.

But he didn’t stop, and he didn’t move to cover her. This time he would make sure everything went right. Slowly he began working his way down her body, tasting her with his tongue, nibbling at her until she cried out for more. All the while he kept his fingers moving on her and in her. She twisted and writhed in his hands, and he gloried in it.

When he dropped an intimate kiss into the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, she cried out again and clutched at his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

The scent of her was dark and spicy, the essence of her femininity. Severance thought it would surely drive him over the edge. Still he maintained his self-control. He touched the nubbin with his tongue and felt Cidra’s whole body tighten convulsively.

Deliberately he deepened the passionate caress. The little cries in her throat were the most beautiful songs he had ever heard. He felt her nails digging into his shoulders and knew another lightning jolt of satisfaction.

“Severance!”

“Let go, Cidra, Just let go!” He parted the pliant opening with his fingers, and she whispered his name again. He loved the tight, husky, aching way she said it. He slid two fingers gently into her, his tongue still curling around the bud of throbbing flesh.

She tensed again, breathed his name again, and this time a thousand tiny shivers flooded her body.

“Severance. Sweet Harmony, Severance!”

“That’s the way I want to hear my name.” Intoxicated with the knowledge that he’d brought her complete satisfaction, half spaced with his own anticipation, he flowed back up along her body and slipped between her legs. He drove into her before the tiny convulsions had ceased. The last of them pulled him deeply into her. A moment later it was Cidra’s name that was filling the tent and his body that was shuddering in completion. And then he went still on top of her.

When he finally came back to his senses, he was aware of Cidra’s fingers moving languidly in his hair. Severance decided he liked it. He moved his head a little closer.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Severance.”

“You were upset. Scared, maybe.”

“Scared of what?” she asked.

“Scared of what’s happening to you. To us.”

She appeared to give that some thought. “It’s confusing, but I don’t feel really frightened.”

“Good. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“I’m wide-awake,” she told him. “I wouldn’t mind discussing it now.”

He opened his eyes and found that his line of focus took in the peaks of her breasts. It was a pleasant view. “You need the sleep, Cidra. And so do I. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“I feel strange, Severance.”

“You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I don’t feel bad,” she emphasized. “Just strange.”

“I’m sure it’s a normal reaction.”

“I don’t know.” She sounded genuinely puzzled. “I also feel a little sore.”

He winced guiltily. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning. And next time you won’t feel sore afterward.”

She yawned. “You sound very sure of everything.”

“I’m the pilot in command, remember? I’m supposed to sound sure of everything.” He lifted himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “Cidra?”

“Hmmm?”

“You swear you weren’t thinking of doing anything rash because of what happened tonight?”

“Why would I want to kill myself after enjoying such plea-surer’

He smiled and kissed her. “That’s the true Wolf outlook.”

“You know what the best part is, Severance?”

“What?”

“Feeling so close to you. It’s very nice.”

“Very,” he agreed.

As he drifted back into sleep Severance decided that Renaissance wasn’t such a bad place to stake his claim on Cidra. He hadn’t intended to rush things. He had wanted the right time and the right background. During those two weeks on board Severance Pay he had fantasized more than once about the perfect setting. In his mind he had constructed a picture that included good ether wine, Harmonic music in the background, a wide, lush bed, and all the time in the world.

Here in the middle of a Renaissance jungle he’d had none of those props, but it didn’t seem to matter. There was something primitive and new about the jungle, and it fit in well with the way he felt about Cidra. The more he thought about it, the more appropriate the setting became. She had been right earlier when she had tried to tell him that the jungle wasn’t really a green hell. It was an exotic, exciting, primitive world, not a hell.

A man could survive in the jungle without deflector screens and crispers, Severance decided. Hadn’t he survived today? There were places in the jungle that were soft, green refuges. In such places he could make love to Cidra beneath twin moons with strange names all night long. It would be good to see her soft, slender body bathed in moonlight. He fell asleep with that last image in his mind.

When he awoke again, he knew it was nearly dawn. Lazily he turned, feeling for Cidra. Then he sat up with a jerk. She was gone again. This time Severance didn’t feel the rush of fear he had felt the last time he had awakened and found her gone. She hadn’t had time to get far, he thought as he pulled on his clothing. And she would be safe enough. The jungle was safe for her. And for him.

He stepped out of the tent, fastening his shirt, and glanced around. There was no sign of Cidra, but he was curiously unconcerned. He sensed the direction in which she had gone, and he set out to follow. He was just about to step through the deflector screens when a niggling sense of unease stopped him. For a moment he couldn’t figure out what the problem was. Then he thought about the pulser and utility loop he had left behind in the tent. It wasn’t like him to go anywhere on this planet without either. He felt undressed without them. Habit was hard to break.

Shrugging, Severance walked back toward the tent. He wouldn’t need a weapon, but since he seemed uncomfortable without it, he might as well get it. Inside the tent he strapped on the holstered pulser and reached for the utility loop.

With the familiar weight of the pulser and the utility loop in place, he walked back outside and through the deflectors. A strange impatience was beginning to eat at him now. He wanted to catch up with Cidra. She might be quite a way ahead of him by now. He pushed his way through the underbrush, deciding not to worry about what sort of creatures might be hiding in the vicinity. Hadn’t he already realized that the jungle was not really a hell? It was a good place, a natural place, one where a man could feel in harmony with nature. Perhaps this was how Harmonics had always felt. If so, he could understand Cidra wanting to become one. Poor Jeude. He’d never had his chance to become a trained Harmonic.

Severance frowned and then relaxed, pushing thoughts of his brother aside. Jeude had been avenged. His memory could be put to rest. Renaissance was a good place to do that too. It was a planet of rest. Gentle, green rest.

He kept walking, not bothering to question his absolute certainty of direction. After all, he’d always had a good sense of direction. The jungle didn’t fight him. Why should it? It was expecting him.

He stepped through a wall of trailing vines and saw Cidra. She was only a short distance ahead of him, right where he had known she would be. Severance smiled, quite pleased with himself. But he didn’t call out to her. That seemed unnecessary. Instead he simply moved a little more quickly.

She glanced at him when he caught up with her. Her eyes had that slightly unfocused expression again, but that was all right. He knew what she was thinking of now. There was no need to communicate. He was thinking of exactly the same things she was. The shared knowledge was pleasant.

Green hell.

No. Green shelter. Peace. Tranquility. Rest.

It all waited up ahead. Not far now. Severance was sure of it.

So was Cidra. She moved unerringly in the right direction, following the gentle, guiding call. It wouldn’t be long now. The safehold was very near. All the answers were very near.

She and Severance stepped through the last wall of tangled vines and leaves and into the clearing. Cidra halted, drinking in the sight of the safehold bathed in the last of the night’s moonlight. Severance stopped beside her, equally enchanted.

It was a graceful, airy thing. The Ghosts had had a light, perfectly balanced touch when it came to architecture. And the safehold had been designed with special care, for it housed important secrets.

Even as Cidra and Severance watched, walls of a translucent stone caught the first light of the morning dawn and glowed with it. The vaulted doorway was open wide, an invitation that could not be denied. The structure seemed lighter than air, circular in shape, and yet it rested firmly on the green velvet of the clearing. It was not a large building, not much bigger than Desma Kady’s octagonal living quarters. It appeared to have been carved out of a single huge block of stone. The roof was arched, revealing delicate veins in the material. Through the vaulted entrance nothing could be seen, but it was obvious mat light was passing through the stone to gently illuminate the interior.

Cidra stepped forward eagerly, and Severance followed more slowly. For a moment just before she entered the safehold, Cidra had time to realize that it was unusual to find anyplace on Renaissance where nature was not in a constant state of combat. Yet here the green velvet underfoot was obviously not having to compete with other foliage. No stray shoots of vines had encroached from the surrounding jungle. There was no sign of any wildlife within the protected circle. Not even insects. In the clearing all was tranquil and serene. A small brook emerged from the jungle on the far side of the protected clearing, bubbled through it, and disappeared into the foliage on the opposite side.

“Just like a garden in Clementia,” Cidra breathed as she came to a halt in front of the entrance. “Smell the air, Severance. It’s so soft and fragrant.”

“I know,” he said, glancing around curiously. Some of the feeling of quiet sureness was receding in him. “Maybe too soft and fragrant, Cidra.”

“Nonsense. This is how the Ghosts lived. I know it. When they were here, the jungle was a place of harmony. Just like this clearing. Come on, Severance. Let’s go inside.”

He hesitated, struggling now with something in his mind. Severance’s eyes were vaguely troubled as he looked down at her. “Cidra, I’m not sure…”

“I’m going inside.” She stepped through the entrance.

Severance shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he realized that there was no need to clear it. All was in order. All was serenely in order. He followed Cidra through the open gate.

The first thing Cidra noticed was the silence.

“Like the inside of a grave on
QED
,” Severance said.

“No. Like the Hall of Archives in Clementia.” Cidra stood just inside the entrance and glanced around. The curving walls allowed sufficient light into the room to see a floor that was made of the same white stone. The far end of the circular room was in soft shadow. There were no lines of joining between walls and roof or walls and floor. “It’s that kind of quiet, Severance. A place where something has been stored for the ages.”

“But there’s nothing here.” He reached out to touch the translucent stone wall. “Perhaps long ago it was a…” He hesitated, struggling for the right word. “A safehold.”

“Yes.”

“Cidra. What’s a safehold? We don’t have any facilities called safeholds. Where in hell did I get the word?”

“From whatever led us here.”

“I don’t like it.”

She was surprised by the underlying resistance in his voice. “You don’t like what?”

“Having words put in my head. I don’t like being led through the jungle by something I can’t see. Something in my mind.”

“Why did you come, then?” Cidra asked.

“I don’t know. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Severance…”

He turned to her, anger and growing concern in his face. “I said it seemed like a good idea at the time. But it wasn’t my idea.”

She put out her hand, touching him lightly. Cidra smiled wistfully. “Calm down, Severance. This place is good. It’s safe. It’s in control of the jungle, can’t you tell? The Ghosts could deal with the jungle. And that feeling of having something or someone communicate with you mentally?”

“What about it?”

“That must be what it’s like to be a true Harmonic, Severance. It may be as close as I’ll ever come to knowing that feeling.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t communication, Cidra. That was an act of control. We didn’t consciously decide to come here. We were pulled here. We could have been killed at any point along the way by anything from a green slicer to a lockmouth.”