Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(17)

"I think I'll take my coffee outside," I said. "The sun is peeking through the clouds."

"I will join you," Valegar nodded. He transported us—I was rising to walk outside. We ended up on the beach instead of the deck.

"We cannot be seen, my love," Val said, taking my hand and lifting it to his lips. "I merely want you to love me as much as you love him."

"This is such a strange concept," I lowered my eyes. "When you're human—or seemingly so—you tend to shut others out when you make your vows to one."

"As you know," he lifted my chin with a finger, "you are no longer human. Were not human in your last incarnation, either. If helping you through this is my task, then I take it up gladly. Removing Ilya's jealousy is no problem—that can be done easily. You can do it yourself, if you so choose."

"I just hope segregating his obsession will be that simple."

"My love, we will find a way." I was pulled into arms that radiated the warmth of a summer day.

Soon—very soon—I would have to shove away my human feelings and admit that Valegar and I were meant to be. I would never give up Ilya, however, and the Larentii who held me understood that—even encouraged it.

*

Ilya

The Larentii were gone more than an hour. Suspicions formed, only to submerge and transform into other thoughts. Someone was keeping me from making a connection. I was grateful.

I hadn't had a destructive dream in several days, for which I was also grateful. Under normal circumstances, my suspicions would be examined until a conclusion was reached. In this case only, the suspicions slid away with barely a struggle.

Everything else received my usual, focused attention.

"Why would they keep making clones of those we recognize?" I asked. Director Michaels and Colonel Hunter now sat in the media room with me; Katya had accompanied Sergei to their suite so he could rest.

"Because their supply of the drug was either taken or destroyed," Val and Rinnelar appeared in the room. "They only had a few survivors left, in my opinion, so they are forced to make clones. They neither have the formula nor the ingredients to recreate the drug."

Val spoke; Rinnelar nodded her agreement. It made sense, too. Without a drug survivor to draw blood from, there would be no clones.

"What about," I began.

"They have to have blood from the original survivor," Val answered my question before I could voice it entirely. "They were foolish to allow the original Merle Askins to die in Vancouver. They should have sent a clone in his place."

"Then do they know that they can't make a clone from a clone?" Colonel Hunter asked.

"Unknown. It is also unknown how much blood was gathered from Askins before his death."

"If they started taking blood from him shortly after his survival, then they could have a thousand vials or more," Rinnelar pointed out. "It only takes a small amount to create a clone."

"Then we should search for their supply of blood," I said.

*

Corinne

Auggie, where's the rest of the drug from the U.S. stash? I asked.

Everybody in the media room knew I'd sent him mindspeech, because he shifted uncomfortably on his barstool.

"You don't know, do you?" I accused aloud.

"Not all of it—no," he shook his head. "You have to understand that some of it was sent to the Nevada facility, and we don't know what happened to it."

"Where are those people now—the ones who were there?" Rafe hissed. He'd understood immediately that our conversation concerned the drug.

"Most are dead." I said the words, my voice flat as I read the admission in Auggie's gaze.

"Murdered, most likely," Auggie massaged his forehead. "Although their deaths were meant to look like accidents, until they kept piling up."

"So the enemy may have the drug back in their hands," Rafe growled. "They may be misleading us for now by only making clones, until they unleash the next round of survivors to hunt us."

"That went downhill in a hurry," I turned to Val, who nodded in agreement.

"We know what Phillips looked like after his turn," Matt said. "A certain former Russian President comes to mind. I doubt that the current Russian President will be very accommodating if one of Phillips' clones shows up."

"You're assuming that one of Phillips' clones isn't pouring obsession into his ear already," I pointed out. "I think I hate the f*cking Sirenali, already."

"Dearest, they're not all bad," Val corrected gently.

"The ones I've run into are," I defended my statement.

"You know that troubles often come from assigning the same traits to all within a race," he began.

"Yeah. You're right."

He smiled at me. I love you, he said silently.

Well, I love your blue ass, too.

What other color would it be?

I realized he was teasing.

I would like very much for your blue hands to be all over my blue ass, as you put it, he added. But we must discuss some things first before physical sex can take place. Until then, I will be most happy with energy sex only.

That doesn't sound ominous or anything, I replied.