He smiled at her. "Martha doesn't make mistakes. She sent me with some necessities for the big guy."
Ohhhh, you're a friend of Dalden's.
That didn't get confirmed. Instead she heard behind her, "Corth II, Martha? Is that wise?"
"Just saving time, kiddo, since you depleted the little gal's cupboards yesterday," Martha's voice chimed in.
Poor Jan was staring wide‑eyed now at Dalden's bare chest. He'd donned only the jeans before appearing in the doorway to the bedroom, and was hooking Martha's box over the denim. The female voice she'd just heard, with no body to go along with it, was probably confusing the hell out of her. She was also undoubtedly shocked to find Dalden coming out of Brittany's bedroom.
Tactfully, though, all Jan said was, "I think I need a cup of coffee," and disappeared into the kitchen.
Brittany wanted one as well, but decided some clothes might be
a better idea first. "I'll just get dressed while you chat with your friend. "
She'd still been staring at their visitor while she said it, which was possibly why there was some annoyance in Dalden's voice when he replied, "Corth II is not staying."
"It sounds like I'm not staying," Corth II said with a cheeky
"Nice to meet you, Brittany Callaghan, however briefly.
Perhaps‑"
"Be gone!" Dalden growled.
The man obeyed, though he seemed quite amused as he left. Martha was chuckling some as well.
"My, my, that was interesting," came purring out of the little box. "Losing some of that renowned Sha‑Ka'ani control there, warrior? 'Course, I shouldn't be surprised, after you totally lost it last night."
Brittany frowned at the box on his hip. "Why are you picking on him, Martha?"
If a shrug could be heard in a voice, it was heard now in Martha's. "Just setting the stage for my explanation, don, before Dalden starts to fret over natural inclinations that he's convinced he doesn't possess. A fretting warrior is like a time bomb, which we don't need at this stage of the game."
"Martha has said too much already," DaIden said in grumbling tones.
"Martha hasn't said nearly enough yet," Martha countered. "But you can relax over some of those inclinations, warrior. Last night, you were provoked big‑time. What you witnessed has been a form of sexual enticement for centuries. It's known to easily incite passions. Some cultures have managed to get rid of it, the thinking being that their people have enough stress to deal with, that sexual stress in that form only compounds the problem."
"Good grief," Brittany said incredulously. "You're talking about our dancing last night?"
"Watching you dance pushed him over the edge, doll, if you didn't notice at the time. You might want to make sure there is no more of that nonsense until after we've finished our task here."
"Some people consider dancing to be fun," Brittany pointed out. "Some people are used to it," Martha shot back, "Dalden isn't one of them."
Brittany stared at Dalden and then blushed profusely. "I hope you don't think it was my intention to‑to‑"
He quickly closed the space between them, clasped her face in his hands, smiled at her. "I would change no part of last night, kerima. "
She wouldn't, either‑well, she wished she could recall getting back here. Black holes in the memory were a bit frightening, in not knowing what you might have done during the missing time frame. But she supposed if she had done anything more stupid than driving under severe influence, he would have mentioned it by now.
Everything else she remembered clearly, including his assurance that she was his lifemate, that they wouldn't be parted until he had her in a place familiar to him. She would like to get "familiar" defined. Tacking "home" to it was unrealistic, when he could have just meant back to wherever his base of operations was for this assignment he was on. Lifemate was another word she needed his interpretation of. She knew the definition she'd like to put to it, but in some cultures, mate just meant friend, so she wasn't going to assume what it meant for him.
But she wasn't quite up to an interrogation yet, and what she suspected might be some considerable disappointment on her part as a result. She'd rather savor the contentment she'd felt last night awhile longer.
So she wrapped her arms around him, squeezed a bit, and said, "I'll endeavor to keep you out of any more disco‑type establishments, but I'm sure we can manage to have fun without the dancing part."
Martha was chuckling. Dalden's smile widened considerably. And Brittany remembered too late that he referred to lovemaking as "fun."
She stepped back and snorted at the both of them. "That's not what I meant‑bah, never mind. While I get dressed, why don't you unload the groceries your friend was nice enough to drop off."
"Corth II is not a friend."
"Fine. Enemy then."
"Nor that," he replied. "My mother considers him part of the family”
"She does? Which implies you don't?"
"Like my father, I have little tolerance for those of Corth II's ilk."
"Ohh‑kay," she said, stretching out the word. "I suppose that made perfect sense‑to you. And come to think of it, I'd just as soon not know what you mean by 'ilk.' I do find it odd, however, his having a number for a last name. Is that common in your country?"
"It is not a last name. He is the second in his line, an advanced model of Martha's creation, similar to the original Corth."
"Martha's son?" she said with surprise.
"Something like that."
"Something like‑?" She frowned now. "Okay, I know I'm missing something here, and now I'd like that explanation. Martha, want to fill me in?"
"Not a chance, doll. I just love watching warriors dig holes they can't get out of."
Brittany made a face, but turned her questions back in Dalden's direction. "So why didn't this Corth get an original name?"
"Martha is a Mock II. It follows that anything that improves on the original, as she was, would get the same classification from her."
"I give up. You're talking like he's a machine, an android or something like that, when that's impossible."
"Why impossible?"
"Because we might be making strides with robotic gadgets, but nothing even remotely like what just walked in here. That was a man. I've got eyes. There was nothing mechanical about him."
He reminded her, "Inventions that defy belief, you were told."
She blinked at him, but then she chuckled. "I'm glad you've got a sense of humor, Dalden, I really am. It's an odd one, but none the less amusing."
"Woman‑"
"This might be a really good time to drop the subject, children," Martha interjected dryly at that point. "You've overslept this morning. The big guy still needs to be fed. I was hoping we'd get to City Hall when it first opens, but now you'll have to backtrack again, to make sure no mischief gets caused before your arrival. Waste of time that could have been prevented if someone's alarm had been set."
Brittany blushed, mumbled something about grumpy old women, and went back to the bedroom to get dressed.
Chapter Twenty‑three
IT'S AS I SUSPECTED," MARTHA WAS SAYING AS THEY walked into the central lobby at City Hall. "Jorran's people were all turned loose on your fair town. The three that I have links to each abided the night in different locations, harmless for the most part. But they showed up here bright and early, unlike some
"There are times when you may ignore Martha," Dalden told Brittany, his arm around her waist. "Were it important for us to be here sooner, she would have woken us herself."
A snort first, then, "Actually, waking you myself, without any other distractions there to get you out of bed, would have guaranteed a lot more wasted time. Both blushing? I see you understand why I didn't do the waking, but sent Corth II over instead."
"Is there going to be a time when you can turn her off?" was Brittany's mumbled response.
"Indeed, but not for several more months."
Brittany frowned. "You
don't really think it's going to take that long to find Jorran, do you?"
"No," he replied. "But Martha cannot be gotten rid of until I return home, and she is returned to being only my mother's nuisance.
"Tedra does not consider me a nuisance," Martha interjected in hurt tones.
"Can my father say the same?"
" 'Course not" came out with a chuckle that belied there'd been any real hurt in the last comment.
Brittany ignored the banter, was stuck on that "several months" remark. "Then you're not going straight home after you're done here?"
"Indeed we are."
Her eyes widened. "So it's going to take you a couple of months just to travel? Wow, I didn't think anything still took that long to cross the ocean. You must have a really old, slow ship lined up for the trip."
Martha wasn't the only one chuckling this time, and feeling herself the butt of yet another joke she couldn't possibly decipher, Brittany added, "Wrong guess? Maybe you plan to swim home?"
The sarcasm was clear to her ears, but Dalden didn't hear it, and said only, "Such would not be possible."
Martha was more perceptive, and replied, "No need to get bent out of shape, doll. You'll understand all too soon and probably wish you'd been left in the realm of 'unknowing' instead. In the meantime, how about you two getting to work? Same agenda as yesterday. Start with the mayor first and work your way out from there, Brittany, while Dalden makes the rounds of the rest of the offices."
With a sigh, Brittany nodded and headed toward the mayor's reception room. With three rods confiscated yesterday, she now had one for her own use and Sullivan's secretary got to be her first test subject with it.
It still amazed her, the total hypnotic control those rods gave the user. She was sent right in to the mayor's office, had herself announced first this time so as not to startle the man again. And didn't once think that he might be in the middle of a meeting already, which happened to be the case.
Where was her mind today? Still savoring last night, of course, and not attending to current business. But that was no excuse to blunder like this....
There were four other people gathered around the mayor's desk. They weren't talking, were merely relaxing in the plush chairs for the most part, looking bored. And Sullivan did stand up, all smiles, to greet her as if she weren't intruding on a meeting already in progress.
Was he still under the same influence from yesterday, ready to answer any questions she put forth and then forget about them? But she couldn't exactly grin him with these other people present. Nor could she use the rod on the lot of them without one or two realizing what she was doing before she reached them, and bolting to raise an alarm.
A hasty retreat was in order, and before she started blushing over this blunder, she jumped right in with, "Someone get their appointment times mixed up? If you'd like me to wait outside a few more minutes until you're done here, Mayor Sullivan, I‑"
"Done with What?'' he asked with a curious frown. "I was expecting you, wasn't l?"
"Yes, but‑"
"Then sit, sit," he told her, wearing his public smile again. "What can I do for you today?"
The blush was coming up anyway. The four men must be members of his staff. And they still weren't saying anything, just watching the proceedings in a bored manner. Which really put her on the spot. Was she supposed to conduct her business with them present? Was that normal around here, for the mayor to be surrounded by his people during private appointments? She had
caught him on his lunch break last time, after all. And if this was standard procedure, why hadn't they at least introduced themselves to put her at ease?
Annoyed that she wasn't going to accomplish her mission with them there, she pointed out their rudeness with some of her own by asking one of them directly, "Who are you?"
"An observer."
Fat lot that told her, so she held out her hand to shake his and even though he ignored it, she still said, "I'm Brittany Callaghan, and you are?"
"An observer" was repeated, but then, "Commence your meeting, woman, then begone."
She caught the accent this time. Like Dalden's but not quite the same, still very foreign‑sounding. Alarms went off in her head. She needed to get the hell out of there and warn Dalden that they'd most likely hit the jackpot, and used that last comment to take offense over.
"Excuse me, I can tell when I'm not wanted," she said tersely, and to Sullivan, "I'll reschedule, Mayor, when you're not being‑observed."
She turned and started to march out of there on her high horse, only to be drawn up short because one of them had moved to block the exit. Nor was he little enough that she might have been able to push her way past him. He was her height, but with the physique of a nightclub bouncer, all brawn and happy to show it off. The price tag dangling from the lapel of his new suit was a bizarre touch, but not enough to detract from his seriously threatening demeanor.
And she heard behind her, "It is difficult to hide fear beneath other emotions. Most people cannot manage it. You fall into that group. Then the question becomes, What was said here to cause you fear?"
She swung back around. It was the same fellow she'd spoken to who had sensed her fear. The observer. He'd looked more important than the other three bored interlopers, which was why she'd addressed him. Jorran himself?
He was standing now, with that aura of command even more prominent, wrapped around him like a cloak. Tall, lean, with light blond hair and emerald green eyes, he held himself like royalty, was lacking only a crown to make the impression complete. But then the price tag hanging from his sleeve ruined the impression and threw her off again.
She noticed it as he crossed his arms. A brief, nervous glance at the other two men showed that their suits also sported them. Fashionable where they came from? Or was their country so backward that they simply didn't know that if you left the store wearing new clothes you just bought, you were supposed to remove the evidence? And that they were all wearing brand‑new suits for this appearance made her wonder why they had felt it was necessary. To replace desert robes, perhaps?
She was doing it again, making assumptions, when she should just deal with known facts. Trouble was, there were so few of those. And such blatant ignorance of the modern world was making it easy for her to put her fear aside. How was she supposed to take this plot seriously when these people knew absolutely nothing about the country and politics they were trying to gain control of?
He was waiting for her answer. She kept it simple. "I don't know what you're talking about."
A slight annoyance showed in his expression. "Of course you do. And you can own up to the truth, or I can have you arrested for attempting to assassinate Mr. Sullivan. He will, of course, swear that you did indeed try to kill him."
He was bluffing. He had to be bluffing. Send her to prison, and that's what that particular charge would do if the rods were used to support it, just because she wouldn't answer his question?
Panic mixed with indignation had her demanding, "Are you listening to this, Mayor?"
Sullivan was frowning at her. "All I hear is you talking nonsense to yourself."
That produced a sigh from Jorran, drawing her eyes back to him. "It is really too bad that he mentioned that. I was merely curious about what caused you to be suddenly afraid. Now we will have to detain you."
So it had been a bluff. Of course he wouldn't want to cause such a big to‑do, which would only draw more attention to himself. But detaining was just as bad in her book.
"And do not ask why he does not hear or see me, woman," he added disdainfully as he sat back down. "Your curiosity is unimportant."
That easily she was dismissed. And that was what made her angry. She was inconsequential, a nuisance to be brushed under the rug. She posed absolutely no threat to their carefully laid plans.
"Ask? I don't need to ask," she said with an equal amount of disdain. "I know exactly why he doesn't hear or see you."
Chapter Twenty‑four
>
BRITTANY COULD CLAIM THE DEVIL MADE HER SAY THAT, but It was a known fact that anger was its own worst enemy, and she was no exception to that rule. She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have pretended that she was just what she seemed to be, just another appointment on the mayor's busy schedule. Now she had to admit that she knew more than they had counted on anyone knowing, and offer a reason for that without implicating Dalden.
He might be bigger than the lot of them, though the two bouncer types might cost him a bit more effort. He could still probably take them all down by normal means. But if all four of them were equipped with those rods, there'd be nothing normal about it. Dalden could be rendered harmless within seconds, and the only end to that would be Jorran wins, Dalden and company lose. So it was imperative that they not know he was in the building looking for them.
Jorran was standing up again, and there was no "slight" to his annoyance this time. A short, rotund fellow had also moved behind the mayor and was whispering in his ear. It looked like she had just been made invisible as well, since the mayor proceeded to ignore her as he started browsing through some papers on his desk.
"Explain yourself, woman," brought her eyes back to the regallooking Jorran.
She decided on the most plausible lie out of the few options she had. "I'm a news reporter assigned to City Hall. It's my job to ferret out anything of interest going on around here, and your crew and those sticks they've been waving around the last couple of days were most definitely interesting. I followed, I listened. A child could have put two and two together here, when your people haven't exactly been trying to hide what they were doing."
The last wasn't exactly true either, but he didn't address it, merely pointed out, "We have been following your town news. No mention of what you say has appeared in it, which means you lie."
"No, that just means I haven't finished writing the article yet."
"Then you have told no one else of your findings?"
Dilemma time. Cover her own butt and claim others knew, put the fear of imminent discovery into them, or keep them from panicking so Dalden could do his thing and round them up? Actually, there was no dilemma, when Martha had mentioned that if they went into hiding, it would be impossible to find them again. No panic‑well, aside from her own.