Lovers of the Galaxy, Book Two: Bounty Hunters of the Heart Page 5

  “No,” his comrade replied.

  Miln nodded toward a small structure on a knoll. The fading sun illuminated its grassy roof as if it were a bright emerald.

  “That structure is about half a meikic from the point where Randle’s Sky Streamer trail vanishes in the future. My best guess is that he may have gone there for information or possibly supplies suitable for this time period. If we’re right, we should be able to apprehend him there”

  “I agree,” his consort replied. “Evening is only a couple hours away, so we might as well go back to the ship until it is dark. We can change our clothes so we do not startle anyone with our appearance.”

  Miln led the way back to their craft. Except for the squish of their feet in the soft forest earth, the drip of water, and the wind sighing through the treetops, quiet ruled during their return walk. Unless it dealt with their agenda, Oshki still refused to speak to him. Miln’s irritation had shifted into pure annoyance.

  At the ship, he turned and said, “Oshki, how long are you going to refuse to discuss our relationship?”

  Silver eyes met his gaze. His mate studied him for a moment, face stoic, and shrugged. “You rejected me. That is not something I take lightly.”

  He struggled not to yell. Enunciating to get his point across, he replied, “I did not reject you.”

  “We were finally alone together and about to make love—truly consummating our union as mates—and you left me all because you got the feeling something was wrong at the base.” He trans-shifted, leaving Miln standing there.

  Swearing under his breath, he struggled to calm his raging emotions. He balled his hands into fists. To ease his anger, he focused on the inebriating aroma of saturated soil and damp evergreens permeating the atmosphere. Had Oshki always been like this? Had he been so wrapped up in the beauty of the warrior’s physique and clever wit that he’d been blind to his flaws and immaturity until now? He loved his partner, but by the Twelve Planets, Oshki certainly tested his patience.

  One of the ship’s panels grew translucent, and Miln heard his mate’s voice through it. “Are you coming inside to change or not? By the time we swap our clothes and head back, darkness will have settled.”

  He trans-shifted into the ship only to find himself catching a bundle of clothing tossed at him. Angered, he bit his tongue until he tasted blood. If his mate kept behaving like this, their first true fight would be of epic proportions.

  Quickly, he pulled off his clothes. However, he couldn’t help glancing over at his partner, who jerked a pair of coarse breeches up over his thighs and tight ass. Regret flowed through him, followed by his sapin hardening. How could the young bounty hunter not see how he felt for him?

  Oshki turned. His gaze settled on Miln’s erection. He smirked, his eyes deepening to gray. “We may need to secure some transportation.”

  “Agreed.” Turning away, he reached for the plain shirt. “We can walk to the building on the hill, but once there, I figure we will need some sort of conveyance of the times.”

  “Perhaps we can buy horses.”

  “We do not know how to ride such creatures.” He struggled to pull the rough, woolen socks over his feet and then tugged on the strange leather boots.

  “We have used both four-legged and six-legged war beasts in battle,” Oshki countered, also donning his socks and cowboy boots, “so how hard could it be to ride a horse?”

  As Miln fumbled with the tiny buttons on his shirt, he wondered how they would slip in and about the people and towns of this time without alerting them to their presence. Even with the right clothing, weapons, and money, it would be painfully obvious they didn’t belong.

  “Ready?”

  He nodded and trans-shifted outside. His partner appeared next to him, and without a word forged ahead.

  The walk through the woods and across the field in the mud proved grueling. Although Miln wasn’t worried about anyone hearing them yet, the squishing, plopping, and sucking sounds of their footsteps seemed deafening among the gentle noise of crickets and frogs. The weather had cleared, and stars twinkled brightly as darkness finished settling over the landscape. In the west, the colors of the sunset blended from gold to orange to red before bleeding into the indigo of night. Thankfully the half moon provided some illumination, but not before Oshki missed the drop-off to a small stream and pitched headfirst into it.

  The splash and string of hissed Azutuan curses urged a smile to his lips. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine,” came the snarled reply. Another batch of profanity rose from the streambed.

  He fought not to laugh. It would only make his partner twice as cross with him.

  Oshki’s ascended the opposite bank and paused, his black silhouette stark against the slightly lighter sky. Miln made out the shallow indentation running through the meadow and climbed down into the streambed. He splashed through the water and leaped up the bank.

  “I will be glad when we can return to base,” he mumbled once Miln stood next to him. “I feel more out of place in this time period than I have ever felt.”

  “Perhaps it is our quarrel that has made you feel this way instead.” The instant the words left his mouth, he sensed his partner’s ire, but no words were hurled at him. Oshki spun on his heel and strode across the last flat field before reaching the knoll.

  With a sigh, Miln followed him. Since his consort didn’t want to talk things out, maybe a good thrashing was what he needed. Then again, he’d probably like it and try to take advantage of it.

  The moonlight revealed a faint trail cutting across the meadows from the right. It grew more pronounced as it twined up the hillock until it became a definite road halfway up. Miln walked next to his mate as they stayed in the tall hay, which had been mashed from the hard rains and fierce gales. At the top, he surveyed the sod house and its neighboring farm buildings. Beside him, Oshki withdrew a scanner from the leather shoulder case he’d procured from the museum. Its glow illuminated his face.

  The deep, gruff sound of an animal shattered the night.

  “That sounds similar to the noise Tonto makes,” Miln stated. “How many life forms are here?”

  “Two human females and dozens of animals.”

  “No signs of Randle?”

  “No.”

  “We should silence the dog before it alerts the females someone is here,” Miln suggested, his nerves jangling with each loud bark.

  A strange noise, like two heavy metal plates grinding quickly against each other, startled him and he dropped on all fours, peering through the tall grass.

  Oshki stuffed the scanner into his pack and flung the flap over it. Now in sudden darkness, Miln battled to discern the origin of the sound. The moist ground dampened the knees of his pants, and moisture dripped onto his face.

  A roar shattered the landscape. Ka-boom!

  “I know you’re out there,” a woman hollered. “I saw your light.”

  “Brody!” a different female shouted. “Hush now, boy.”

  “Stay still,” Miln cautioned. “We do not want to hurt them.”

  The same odd sound occurred again, this time a few yards directly behind them. Shick-shock!

  “Stand up with your hands in the air,” the first woman said a few yards to their right on the hillside. “Make any move, and I’ll blow another hole in each of your asses.”

  “Do as they say,” he whispered, skin prickling.

  “They are only females,” Oshki shot back, voice low. “What can they do?”

  “You heard the one to our right.” Somehow—an odd click, perhaps—Miln sensed a weapon aimed at his head. “She wields a dangerous weapon, probably a rifle, and since they are alone out here, I trust she will use it.”

  “Damn straight I will,” the woman, now behind them, said. “Now put your hands up. Last time I’m gonna tell ya!”

  Slowly, he put his hands in the air. Beside him, Oshki did the same.

  Chapter Nine

  A pungent yet clean aroma
reached Miln’s nose. Something hard, small, and cold pressed into the small of his back. He stiffened.

  “You! Start walking up the hill.” The hard edge in the woman’s voice told him she meant business. “And make sure your big friend there doesn’t try anything stupid. I’m pretty good with a shotgun, but if I miss, my sister won’t.”

  “You heard her,” Miln said.

  Slowly, he began trudging up the hill with Oshki keeping pace with him. As they neared the summit, golden light shone from posts by the home’s front entrance. A woman stood with a weapon to her shoulder, its long end pointed at them. Next to her, a large, shaggy dog began barking again.

  “Heaven have mercy,” the woman by the dog exclaimed. “Brody, that’s enough, boy. Shush!”

  Miln kept his head down as they drew closer to the light.

  “I suppose we can tie ’em in the barn,” the one behind him stated, “but they’re so darn big I won’t feel safe with ’em out there.”

  “We can’t bring ’em into the house,” the other objected.

  “What other choice do we have, Melinda?”

  The one called Melinda sighed. “Well, you keep the gun on them while I get some rope out of the barn.”

  “You heard her.” The thing in his back pressed harder. “In the house with ya both, but if ya do anything I don’t like, I’ll fill ya with lead.”

  He moved across the bare, muddy ground with his partner keeping pace next to him, the muck sucking at their boots. Head down with his chin tucked tightly to his chest, he walked past the growling, snapping canine and the other female. He glimpsed bare, white feet with mud oozing between the toes. He reached the door, pulled on its square handle, and stooped nearly in half to walk inside.

  “You next,” the woman told Oshki.

  Miln stared at the floor as his mate moved over to stand next to him. He wrestled with lame ideas to remedy their situation. This didn’t bode well. Once the female got a good look at them she would be so frightened by their appearance she might use her strange weapon to kill them both.

  Firelight emanated from a hearth and from something on the rough-hewn table in front of him. The illumination increased, brightening the room considerably.

  “Lemme see your faces,” said the female, her tone stern.

  “Schizma!” he hissed under his breath.

  “We do not mean you any harm,” Oshki said.

  “Ain’t never heard anyone with a garbled accent like that before. Look at me.”

  Inwardly, he groaned. “Just let us be on our way—”

  “I said look at me—now!”

  “Stay calm,” his mate said. “We are different, but we will not hurt you.”

  Fearing the worst, Miln raised his head the same time Oshki did. The woman stared back at them with horror. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, and the shotgun she kept trained on them began trembling.

  “Lord help us,” she cried. “You be demons!”

  “No,” he said soothingly. “We are not demons. We are from a different place, one so far away from here you cannot imagine it.”

  The door swung open again, and a younger version of the first woman halted where she stood. She dropped two small coils of rope on the dirt floor and swung her weapon up to her shoulder, aiming it directly at Oshki. “What the hell are you?”

  “Please, just hear us out.” Miln wished he could alter his appearance like the Kallias people could. He could only imagine the horror the females felt as they took in his fuchsia eyes and hair. “We do not mean you any harm.”

  “He speaks the truth.” Taking a step closer to him, Oshki lowered his hands and held them out, palms up in a placating manner. “We are here looking for a very bad man who may hurt many innocent people.”

  The older of the two young women kept her shotgun aimed at them as she approached. Again, Miln caught the strong aroma of something clean wafting from her and guessed she’d just come from a bath. Long, dark blond hair hung from her head in wet locks, and the faint outline of her nipples showed through a thin, white gown that hung to the tops of her feet. Her cheeks glowed pink from a recent scrubbing.

  “How do we know you’re telling the truth? It’s bad enough we have to fight the Indians to survive. Now you’re here, too?” She regarded him with large, dark eyes. “What the hell are you, anyway?”

  “We are Azutuans,” he replied. “Security for a base far away. We were sent to find a man named Randle Nyerscot.”

  “He kidnapped and wounded the woman we were protecting,” Oshki added. “If we do not find him soon, he could seriously damage this world as you know it.”

  “Charlotte?” Melinda sidled over to her sister. “Anyone who looks that strange has to be up to no good.”

  “I’m not saying I believe ’em,” Charlotte returned, a quiver in her voice, “but what if they are telling the truth?”

  Melinda shook her head. From what Miln could tell, she was at least five Earth years younger than the one called Charlotte. Younger siblings, especially those in their teenaged phase, were often more rash, and therefore more dangerous when frightened or threatened.

  “If we can prove we are good, will you help us?” he asked.

  The women both gaped at him then shifted their attention to Oshki and back again.

  “Take off your hats,” Charlotte commanded.

  He took his off, but when Oshki hesitated, he nudged him. “Why are you hesitating? Your coloring is more human than mine is.”

  Slowly, his mate pulled his hat from his head to reveal his long, yellow locks and braids.

  “Pointed ears!” Melinda exclaimed. “See? They’re demons!”

  “Shush.” Her sister threw her a stern look, silencing Melinda. “Remember when Ansel was abandoned at the church? He looked like something a cat threw up, but once we got to know him during the trip to the orphanage, we realized he was the sweetest, gentlest soul who ever lived.”

  A stricken look crossed Melinda’s face. “You’re right, but we still don’t need to take any chances.”

  Charlotte motioned for her sister to move over by a long wooden counter. “Keep your rifle on ’em. If they make one wrong move, blow ’em away.” She lowered her shotgun and leaned it against the table. “Who are you?”

  “I am called Miln Se’a.” He inclined his head toward his mate. “This is Oshki Lahmni.”

  “I’m Charlotte Coppersmith, and that’s my sister, Melinda.” Her gaze wandered up and down them both. “If you can prove you mean us no harm, I suggest you do it soon. If our brother comes home and finds you here, he’ll kill you on sight.”

  “I have to open my satchel,” Oshki stated.

  Charlotte shook her head. “For all I know, you might have a weapon in it. Put it on the floor and push it toward me with your foot.”

  Doing as he was instructed, his partner gently slipped the pack off his shoulder and then shoved it toward the woman with the toe of his boot.

  She retrieved it and set it on the tabletop. “What am I looking for?”

  “It is a thin, rectangular object that looks similar to a sheet of window glass,” Oshki replied, his expression worried.

  “If you’re lying to me,” she said, eyes hard, “you’re both dead. Understand?”

  Miln nodded. These females could either be helpful or become deadly adversaries. He only hoped it was the former.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlotte pulled a scanner from Miln’s satchel. He watched the expressions cross her face as she stared at the images, symbols, Azutuan numerals, and other readings dancing across the screen. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. Finally, she seemed to snap back to herself. She held the tool up and showed it to her sister.

  “Look, Melinda.”

  Melinda’s reaction was similar to her sister’s. “What the heck is that?”

  “It’s called a scanner,” Oshki supplied. “We use them to collect all sorts of information.”

  Silence reigned in the room until
an ember popped in the hearth, sounding like the blast of a small weapon. Despite being a trained warrior, Miln jumped slightly, and so did his mate.

  “All right,” said Charlotte. “Let’s say I believe your story about meaning us no harm. You said he captured a woman and that he could do damage to our world. What do you mean?”

  Quickly, he explained the purpose of being in their time, and Oshki filled in details here and there.

  “So you see,” Miln finished, “it was bad enough he took Venus, but if he’s able to change things in 1847, he could seriously alter history to suit himself. He’s a scientist, and he has access to tools on the stolen ship that can be modified to make such changes.”

  Charlotte motioned for her sister to put the shotgun down. Although she appeared reluctant to obey her, Miln breathed easier when Melinda eventually lowered the weapon.

  “You’ll need to take care of your business before our brother returns.” Charlotte shuffled over to the hearth and removed a pot from the edge of it. “That gives you two days. If he finds you here, you’re on your own. Rest assured he’s one of the best riflemen in the area.” She glanced over her shoulder as she straightened. “Do you get my meaning?”

  “Yes,” Oshki answered.

  He nodded.

  “Are you sure about this?” Melinda asked.

  Her sister shrugged. “The sooner we give ’em what they want, the sooner they’ll be on their way.”

  “I don’t want ’em in the house.” The look Melinda gave them spoke volumes about her distrust. “I say we let ’em bunk in the hayloft.”

  “Agreed.” Placing the pot and two tin cups on the table, Charlotte also reached for a plate covered with a cloth. “Have some coffee and a biscuit and then we’ll get you two situated in the barn.” She poured both cups full of black brew. “Melinda, would you be a dear and get those two wool blankets out of Mama’s trunk?”

  Melinda shot another dark look at Miln as she crossed the room. She returned shortly with the requested items and stood waiting patiently by the door.

  Quickly, he wolfed down his food and drank the coffee, which was strong but pleasant. Just as fast, Oshki finished his small meal. With a nod, the young woman and her sister led them out to the barn.