Part 36 (1/2)

”We don't have time,” she said, voice m.u.f.fled with tears.

”If we don't have time now, we never will,” he replied.

She hesitated, then relaxed again in his arms, very slowly. Warm and small, and strong. His girl. His woman.

He was not alone anymore.

Perrin pressed his lips against her brow, listening to her breathing steady. She wasn't asleep, but she was resting, her presence warm inside his mind.

Are you angry with us? whispered the kra'a, also in his thoughts.

No, he told it, wanting to say more, but unable to do anything but throw his emotions at that too-familiar presence that skimmed now along the bond between him and Jenny. The bond felt like a rope around his heart. Physical, throbbing. Hot.

For a moment, he thought about the Frenchwoman who had died on the island, and the dead man on the boat, her husband. Perrin wondered what it had been like for them to be torn apart from each other.

Chilled him. Made him nauseous. Afraid. He felt the surrounding sea, soft and vast, buoying the s.h.i.+p as though it sat upon a curved palm; but all that did was make him feel like they were trapped inside a coffin. Or a hand about to close, and crush.

Perrin closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths. His body still ached from lovemaking-”lovemaking,” what a word-and it didn't take much for him to want to be inside Jenny again. Covering her with his body, sheltering her, holding her safe and full while those green eyes stared into his with that half-lidded pleasure and need-and that trust he craved so badly, he didn't know how he had survived this long without her.

He could survive another eight years on land, twenty, fifty, a hundred-if she was there with him.

All because of one moment on a beach, sixteen years ago.

The only other bonded pair Perrin had ever known was so old, their bodies had practically floated through the sea as shriveled husks. He had been very young. All he remembered was that they were always holding hands. And they died together, one last breath ending another.

Maybe it would make a difference that Jenny was human.

Maybe she would survive his death.

If they kill me, make sure she lives, he told the kra'a. Promise me.

We promise you, all of us, replied the kra'a. All of us, together.

Which was not the comforting answer Perrin wanted.

No one said a word when Perrin and Jenny ventured back on deck. The sky was bright with sun, but after a moment spent blinking hard, his vision adjusted. His eyes were getting better in the light.

Eddie and Rik stood inside the bridge with Sajeev, staring out the window at the distant rise of the atoll. Eddie glanced at Jenny, stared a moment too long-as if he could see the grief she was hiding so well-and then looked away, rubbing his jaw.

A yacht was anch.o.r.ed three hundred yards west. Perrin was no expert, but it looked large and expensive, with many windows and a sleek white hull.

”Pleasure cruiser,” Jenny said thoughtfully, her voice still raw from her tears-though she held herself together with a calm that Perrin admired. ”Large enough to require a crew.”

”Your s.h.i.+p is the same size,” he remarked.

”The Calypso Star was designed to be handled by only one or two well-trained people.” Jenny quirked her mouth. ”I see a lot of skin over there.”

Sajeev grinned and tapped the digital player taped to the wall. His finger scrolled down, then clicked. Marvin Gaye's ”Let's Get It On” began blaring over the stereos. Eddie frowned at him and turned off the music.

The fis.h.i.+ng boat drifted closer to the yacht. Everyone but Sajeev ventured from the bridge to stand on deck. Perrin glimpsed crisp white uniforms, and a lot of bikinis. In fact, most of the pa.s.sengers seemed to be young women, who were lounging on lawn chairs, holding drinks, and laughing. Pleasure cruise, indeed.

Some of the crew watched their boat with concern. He wouldn't have been surprised to see guns, but none appeared.

”Well,” Jenny said. ”This is awkward.”

Perrin frowned. ”Go or stay?”

One of the women on the vessel seemed to get a good look at Rik and waved. Her swimsuit was barely there, and she was tanned, long-legged, and lean as a cat. Her white teeth practically sparkled.

”I'm torn,” he replied, waving back. ”Very torn.”

”Rik,” Eddie said.

”If it's the end of the world, and they're some of the survivors?” Rik held out his hands, smiling-though it didn't reach his eyes. ”Come on, man. I suddenly feel like being a hero.”

Perrin wasn't fooled. Shape-s.h.i.+fters mated for life. And Rik, young as he had been all those years ago, had loved Surinia enough to claim her as his-if not in body, then in soul. A pretty face wouldn't be enough to heal that wound, but there was nothing wrong with pretending.

”The atoll is over a mile wide,” Eddie said. ”If we anchor on the other side, no one should be able to see anything strange.”

”I'm more worried about luring trouble here,” Jenny said, but even as she spoke, the yacht's anchor began to crank up, and the engines purred to life.

”I think we made them nervous,” Perrin said mildly, as the girl who had been waving to Rik screamed good-bye at him, then bounced back to her friends with a loud, delighted laugh.

Sajeev turned the music back on. This time, no one stopped him. Perrin glanced at Jenny and found her rubbing the back of her neck.

Her knees suddenly buckled. He caught her as a tremor poured through her body, from head to foot-deepening into a violent quaking s.h.i.+ver that made her teeth chatter.

”What-” Rik began, just as Jenny's entire body bent backward, rigid, seizing. Horrifying sounds tore from her throat.

Her muscles relaxed just as Perrin began to lay her down, but the pain didn't seem to ease. She cried out, a deep throaty sound that was part scream, part groan, and that rose from so deep inside her he imagined it was the sound of her soul.

He saw, inside his head, a s.h.i.+mmer of darkness. A vision of terrible golden eyes straining to open, buried in the fire burning below the earth's crust. Listening for dreams that would not come.

Close, whispered the kra'a. We are still close. The dreams will come. Dreams always come.

Perrin shuddered. And then the pain hit him, too.

He went blind. Lost the ability to breathe. Fingers dug into the base of his skull, but his hands were firmly around Jenny, and it was only memory, terrible memory, though the pain was real and the same. Taking an ax to his skull would have been kinder, faster, than the prying, the sensation of someone trying to pull out his spine-along with a sudden liquid heat that felt like acid pouring into that old gaping scar.

When it stopped, it was sudden-and felt like death. Or maybe heroin. The relief was bliss, sinking into his veins, pooling in all the parts of him that were still and quiet. He'd taken the drug only twice but had been frightened of how good it made him feel, how bereft of thought and any instinct to survive. He felt the same now.

Except for Jenny. Fear for her crashed him down.

Perrin tried to open his eyes, but it was impossible, at first. Nothing worked right. He felt Jenny beside him, his hand around her arm. Her skin was soft, cool. He heard the faint hiss of her breathing and wanted to press his ear against her heart.

If he could even move.

”Perrin,” Jenny murmured.

”Here,” he whispered, relieved beyond measure to hear her speak.