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Synopsis
Love will find a way - 19 fantastic future-set romances. The good news is, in the future there will be no shortage of romance. On space ships, on newly-colonized planets or on a barely recognizable Earth, life forms, whether human, alien or something in between, will find their way to love. As giant corporations grasp new opportunities for profit and future armies clash, both in deep space and 'dirtside', former romantic partners try to put the past behind them and time-travelling rebels set out to romance the past. These science fiction stories of future love and lust - by Marcella Burnard, Bianca d'Arc, Jess Granger, Linnea Sinclair, C. L. Wilson and many more - are brimming with passion and humour. So, even though in space no one can hear you scream, they might just be able to hear you laugh.
Release date: January 17, 2013
Publisher: Robinson
Print pages: 497
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The Mammoth Book of Futuristic Romance
Trisha Telep
“Flying is Faster” © by Jeannie Holmes. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Star Crossed” © by Cathy Clamp. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Naturally Beautiful” © by Jamie Leigh Hansen. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Seven Months of Forever” © by Linnea Sinclair. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Memories of Gravity” © by Patrice Sarath. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Fade Away and Radiate” © by Michele Lang. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“New Earth Twelve” © by Mandy M. Roth. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Red Dawn” © by Delilah Devlin. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Racing Hearts” © by Kiersten Fay. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“In the Interest of Security” © by Regan Black. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“End of the Line” © by Bianca D’Arc. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Space Cowboy” © by Donna Kauffman. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Tales from the Second Chance Saloon: Macawley’s List” © by Linnea Sinclair. First published in Romance and Beyond Magazine, Issue 11, Vol 3, Number 3, 2000.
“Wasteland” © by Jess Granger. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Nuns and Huns” © by Charlene Teglia. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Song of Saire” © by Leanna Renee Hieber. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Noah” © by C. L. Wilson. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Written in Ink” © by Susan Sizemore. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Nobody’s Present” © by Marcella Burnard. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
The future is friendly. Well, actually, the future is more than friendly. It’s a bit over-friendly, if anything. Clumsy spacesuits and clunky helmets have done nothing to dampen our ardor, and even in those bleak dystopian visions where we keep up our wanton environmental destruction of the planet we call home, it’s love that manages to provide some light at the end of the tunnel.
On space ships, on newly colonized planets, on versions of Earth that we may recognize, or not, and amidst our own and alien species, there is no shortage of love in the future. And that is a cause for celebration. Whatever lies ahead may be all-encompassing and vast, but we can be comforted by the knowledge that we’ll always be falling in and out of love, being swept off our feet by meetings with handsome strangers, and longing, lusting and loving, far into an uncertain future. Whether we travel to new worlds or struggle to adapt to radical new changes on Earth, we can always expect to experience the warm, familiar feelings that make us human.
Although the setting might throw you, you’ll feel right at home in the future. Meet hardy pioneers settling new planetary colonies, hoping for a fresh start on a new planet, complete with a government grant and a brand-new mate. Clashes with local, indigenous populations can lead to danger, adventure and interspecies love. Space is the newest new frontier, and the race to secure new territory brings all the old familiar faces out of the woodwork from Earth’s dubious colonial past.
It’s no surprise that big business plays a prominent role in the future, as does the military. Far-reaching corporations of limitless wealth finance the exploration of new worlds, seeking the profit that new, untapped resources can supply. The military provides the muscle to fight the wars in space or dirtside, complete with genetic modifications and space-age nutritional supplements. In the future, peace seems even more elusive than it does today. The post-colonial world is over, and the race for new colonies has begun, bringing with it the same age-old aggression and ruthlessness.
But romance always saves the day, and there is a light-heartedness to these future-set stories, with great lashings of humor and warmth. You’ll meet former romantic partners trying to put the past behind them – and not succeeding – as they prepare to enter an intergalactic space race; time-traveling rebels out to romance the past; and great characters like Linnea Sinclair’s recently deflowered bio-’cybe Kel-Paten, who makes living in space seem like a really good idea. Perhaps it’s true that in space no one can hear you scream, but after sampling the stories here, you’ll be sure that they must at least be able to hear you laugh.
Trisha Telep
For the human settlers of Maji – planet MAJ07, as it was officially designated in colony reports – Earth was a legend spoken of in the same reverent tones as Avalon, Nirvana, or Heaven. Wars, climate changes, and the decadent life of the ancient homeworlders had left only a blasted wasteland. Humans had had no choice but to take to the stars in search of new worlds.
The journey from Earth to Maji had taken hundreds of years. All settlers had been placed in cryogenic sleep, but small groups had been awakened along the way to run the ships, monitor the status of their fellow travelers, and procreate to ensure genetic diversity.
Ronan Frayne, like all inhabitants of New Denver settlement, had been born and educated on the colony transport. Upon reaching Maji, the towering mountains surrounding the settlement had both comforted and terrified him. Staring too long at their snowcapped peaks made his head swim and his stomach churn, but he loved the solidity they represented.
And solid ground was where Ronan desperately wanted to be. He clung to the ladder propped alongside the medical shelter’s newest extension. One of the workers had been injured, and as the colony’s doctor, it was Ronan’s job to assess the damage.
“Don’t look down,” he told himself through clenched teeth. Concentrating on the roofline above him, he clasped the next rung and pushed with his shaky legs. “Four more and you’re safe.”
An eternity seemed to pass, but Ronan finally hoisted himself onto the roof and his stomach dropped. Large holes gaped across the incomplete structure, offering unfettered views of the debris scattered across the floor below. Groaning, he hooked his safety line to the cable skirting the construction zone and rose unsteadily to his feet.
“Over here,” one of the workers called, waving his hand from the other side of a chasm.
Ronan nodded and shuffled his way through the discarded tools and building materials. All work had stopped and wouldn’t resume until the injured worker was on the ground. He reached the two remaining workers and squatted. “What happened?”
“Laser welder malfunctioned,” the injured worker said. He held a bloodied hand to the right side of his face. “Focusing crystal shattered.”
Ronan set down his medikit and flipped it open. He grabbed the compact scanner and gently encouraged the man to lower his hand to reveal a deep cut over his brow. He swiped the scanner over the injury. “Was anyone else hit by the shrapnel?”
The other worker shook his head. “No one else was in the area.”
Finishing his exam, Ronan reached for a dermal regenerator. “This may sting a bit,” he murmured.
Blue light bathed the cut and the worker flinched.
“Hold still.”
Several minutes passed before Ronan disengaged the regenerator. The worker’s cut had mended, the flesh sealing itself and leaving only a thin pink line. He scanned the site once more. “That should take care of it, but you need to rest for the remainder of the day,” he said, stowing his equipment. “If you feel any pain or dizziness, let me know immediately.”
The worker grimaced but nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”
A shadow passed over the men as the second worker helped the other to his feet. Ronan glanced skyward.
A winged creature flew overhead, silhouetted against the afternoon sun. It swooped and twirled along the thermal drafts rising from the valley.
“Budgie,” one of the workers muttered.
Ronan frowned at the use of the slur. When human settlers had arrived on Maji, they’d been surprised to find it inhabited by a race of winged humanoids. The Auilans, as they were properly named, lived high in the surrounding mountains. Early contact with the tribal race had met with mixed results. Most wanted little or no contact with the newcomers. However, one clan, the Azein, welcomed the humans and frequently visited the settlement.
Sunlight flashed off white-and-brown feathers as the Auilan soared overhead.
Ronan’s frown turned to a smile. He knew that pattern well.
“It’s Data.” One of the workers groaned.
“Dotty,” Ronan corrected his mispronunciation.
“Whatever.”
One of the few female Azeins to venture into New Denver, Dah’Te was intelligent and curious about humans. Ronan looked forward to her visits and eagerly answered her questions in exchange for information on Auilan culture. He continued to watch as she circled.
Suddenly Dah’Te tucked her wings and plummeted toward the medical center.
He and the workers ducked as she unfurled her wings at the last possible moment and veered away, landing lightly on a nearby stack of steel girders.
A pair of great brown-and-white wings trailed down her back. His gaze drifted over her body, noting the elongated bird-like feet and four-fingered human-like hands ending in short talons. Dark hair framed her round face. Sunlight cast her skin in warm gold. Tribal tattoos traced up her arms and legs, and adorned her chest beneath a short toga-like covering.
“Ronan.” She gasped his name. Larger-than-human amber eyes focused on him. Small abrasions marred her limbs and face. A cut along her shoulder wept blood and clear fluids. “Need help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Linse and I hunt.” Her breathing was erratic, her movements jerky, her hands never straying far from the short broad-blade sword at her side. “Linse hurt.”
For the normally articulate Auilan to speak in clipped sentences, he knew her younger brother had to be in trouble. He gathered his equipment and stowed it in the medikit. “Where is Linse now?”
She pointed to the forest along the eastern mountains.
“What happened?”
“Talehons attack.”
The Azein and Talehon clans had been warring over territory for almost a year. Linse was young, only in his early teens, and for Dah’Te to risk leaving him to seek Ronan’s aid, the kid had to be in really bad shape.
Ronan grabbed his medikit and hurried for the ladder. Concern for the downed Auilan temporarily overcame his anxiety as he maneuvered around the roof’s yawning pits. He ignored the calls of the workers, shouldered his kit, uncoupled his safety line, and swung onto the ladder, foregoing the rungs and sliding down the rails.
As soon as his booted feet hit the dry ground, he sprinted for one of the nearby solar-rovers. Dah’Te landed a few yards away, stirring a dust cloud with her wings as he climbed into the vehicle’s open cab.
“Flying faster,” she said.
Visions of free-falling to his death through a cloudless blue sky invaded his mind. His stomach clenched and he shook his head. “We’ll need the rover to bring Linse back here.”
She hesitated for a moment and then clambered onto the flat-bed cargo area. Holding the roll bar, she pointed to a trail that sloped steadily upward into the mountains. “That way.”
The rover lurched forward and bounced over the construction site’s uneven turf.
It was foolish to head into the forest with dusk approaching, and even more so to go in search of an injured alien. But if the Talehons found Linse, they would surely kill him.
Ronan and Dah’Te sped through the forest trails, passing through swathes of deep shadow where the canopy thickened. More light filtered through the thinning trees the further they drove from New Denver. After what seemed like hours, Dah’Te tapped his shoulder and pointed to a small clearing. Ronan slowed the rover.
Broken branches littered the ground and the clean scent of fresh sap filled the air. Downy white-and-brown feathers drifted on the breeze to settle in clumps among the bright orange and blue wildflowers.
He stopped the rover, powered down the motor, and picked up his medikit. As he stepped from the vehicle, he hesitated, unsure about bringing the small plasma gun hidden beneath the dash. His oath as a doctor to cause no harm warred with his desire to help Dah’Te’s brother. Sighing, he released the locks, pulled the gun free, and strapped it to his thigh.
Dah’Te crouched by a tree’s base and he joined her. “I left Linse here,” she said, her speech improving now that she’d had time to calm down a bit. She gestured to a dark patch of bark. “He was bleeding and his wing was broken.”
Ronan studied their surroundings. “He can’t have gone far.”
“Unless the Talehons took him,” she muttered, and stood.
“Don’t think like that.”
She shrugged and moved away. Her wing brushed his arm and he shivered as a small jolt shocked his spine. “I’m being realistic, Ronan.” She glanced skyward from the clumps of feathers on the ground, and back to the feather trail. “Talehon clan won’t hesitate to kill a youngling like Linse.”
He heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Dah’Te,” he said softly and grabbed her arm to stop her. Like all Auilans, she was petite, the top of her head barely reaching Ronan’s shoulder. He stooped to face her squarely.
Tears glimmered in the corners of her wide eyes.
“We’ll find him.” He cupped her cheek. “I promise.”
She stepped close and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. Her wings folded to encircle him in a double embrace. “You shouldn’t make an oath you may not honor.”
The thrumming beat of wings drew Ronan’s attention to the treetops in time to see three male Auilans plunging toward them.
“Down!” He pitched himself to the ground, pulling Dah’Te along with him as the men soared overhead in a flurry of black-and-red wings.
Dah’Te sprang to her feet, drawing her sword, and launched into the air in pursuit of the Talehon clan attackers.
He scrambled to his feet, calling and running after her. He hurdled fallen trees and sidestepped debris piles where vipers often hid. Brambles tugged at his pants. Branches slapped his arms and chest and left stinging welts. Ground-covering roots snagged his feet and slowed his chase.
Sharp bird-like cries and the metallic ring of clashing swords ricocheted through the forest. Shifting shadows underneath the sprawling canopy cloaked the Auilans’ dark wings, making it difficult to pinpoint their locations. The sound of rushing water soon reached Ronan as he followed the trail of broken branches and drifting feathers.
A thrashing ball of wings and limbs crashed into Ronan, knocking him off balance. He tumbled into a bramble patch, thorns raking and slicing his skin, as he slid down a steep incline. His shoulder clipped a boulder, spinning him into the base of a large tree, which prevented him from falling into the swift current of the river below.
Groaning, he sat, braced his back against the tree, and pulled free the plasma gun. He searched for signs of his assailants or Dah’Te.
A flash of red to his right. A call from the left.
His instincts screamed for him to run. He forced himself to remain still.
Silver glinted as a black-and-red-winged Talehon dropped to the ground in front of him, swinging a short sword at his head.
He ducked, twisting to land on his back as he raised the gun, and fired. A bolt of superheated plasma lit the forest and skimmed the Auilan’s side before tearing through an outstretched wing. Feathers blazed. The Talehon shrieked and retreated in a trail of charred feathers and smoke.
Ronan needed to find Dah’Te. He pushed to his feet.
Another Talehon swooped into view.
Ronan fired and missed.
The Auilan barreled into him. Taloned hands ripped into his shirt to grip flesh. With a few powerful wingstrokes, they were airborne and gliding over the river.
Ronan’s stomach dipped and his head spun as the Auilan rose steadily higher. He briefly registered that he still had the pulse gun. He didn’t dare use it, however, as an image of his own broken and twisted body floating away on the river’s current danced before him.
A quickly moving shadow darted over them. The Talehon grunted and dropped several feet as something slammed into his back.
Ronan cried out in pain as one of the Auilan’s hands tore free. He caught a brief glimpse of Dah’Te on the Talehon’s back, ripping at his wings, before the Auilan released his grip, and Ronan was free-falling.
The icy river water shocked his breath. The rapid current tore the plasma gun from his hand. He kicked for the surface and gasped a fresh air supply before the flow pulled him under. His body slammed painfully into submerged boulders. The heavy medikit on his back weighed him down. He shrugged out of it only to have it also ripped from his hands as the current tossed him into another boulder.
He struggled through the water, broke free, and managed to grab a low hanging branch. Holding onto it, he kicked against the powerful flow and inched toward the safety of the bank. He pulled himself on shore, gasping and coughing to clear his lungs of water. His entire body ached. His chest and shoulders were on fire where the Auilan’s talons had slashed him open. Darkness clouded his sight.
“Dah’Te . . .”
Shivering from the cold, he collapsed and allowed the shadows to consume him.
Night nibbled at daylight as Dah’Te followed the river, searching from aloft for evidence of Ronan. She’d seen him fall into the swiftly moving water as she grappled with the Talehon clansman.
When the first attack came, she’d pursued the Talehons. They had soon separated, the largest one turning on her. The battle had been brief. He’d outmatched her in strength, but her smaller size allowed for quicker strikes. She’d left him sprawled and lifeless on the forest floor.
She’d seen a second Talehon carrying away Ronan and attacked from above. Seeking to damage his wings and force him to land, she’d accomplished her goal, but Ronan had been lost to the river. The third attacker had vanished.
Guilt stabbed at her. It had been her suggestion to take her younger brother Linse hunting. When he’d challenged her to an aerial race, she’d joyfully accepted. But she’d been careless and hadn’t noticed that they’d strayed into the territory at the heart of the dispute between Azein and Talehon clans.
The Talehons had attacked without warning. She and Linse had fought them off, but not before Linse had taken a strong hit in his left wing. He’d been grounded, injured, and she had been forced to leave him to seek help.
That she had thought to go to the humans – to Ronan – instead of her own clan surprised her. She liked the human healer. He freely answered her questions and asked only for his own to be answered in return. But, again, her carelessness had demanded a price, and now Ronan was lost.
She banked and dropped lower to the water. Her eyesight adjusted quickly to the gloaming, but it would still be easy to miss Ronan as darkness obscured the landscape.
Movement in the water pulled her into a dive. An object bobbed along the surface, caught in an eddy between two boulders. She swooped low, snatched her target from the current, and glided to shore. The red-and-white markings blazed in the dying sunlight.
It was Ronan’s pack.
She spread her wings and ran for a large boulder near the shore. Using it as a springboard, she launched into the air. Ronan’s pack weighed her down, forcing her to stay low to the river. Wing tips skimmed the water’s surface as they bent and flexed to keep her aloft.
Her eyes scanned the shoreline. Twice she thought she saw a human form only to find it was a downed tree or rock outcrop. A third such shadowy form appeared to her left. She veered toward it and hope blossomed as light from the newly risen twin moons highlighted a shock of blond hair.
She landed in a run. “Ronan!”
He groaned as she slid to a stop beside him.
Carefully she rolled him onto his back. Deep wounds marred his chest and shoulders from the Talehon’s claws.
“Ronan.” She cradled his face. “Wake up.”
He moaned but didn’t open his eyes.
Dah’Te ripped away the remains of his shirt to expose the wounds. She grabbed his pack and dumped its waterlogged contents on the ground. Searching through the devices and supplies, despair crept into her heart. She wasn’t a skilled healer. The contents spread before her meant nothing to her untrained eyes.
But she had to try.
She forced herself to be calm. She’d seen Ronan use his healer’s tools. She only needed to remember.
Picking up a cylindrical device, she examined it. She tapped its ends with a talon. It remained silent. Laying it aside, she picked up a strange wand-like instrument. She pressed a small button on its side. Blue light filled the wand.
Recognition slammed into her.
She held the wand over a small cut on her arm. The skin beneath warmed, tingled, and then stitched itself together. She smiled and moved the wand to the worst of Ronan’s wounds on his chest.
Long minutes passed before the first signs of healing showed, and the blue light was dimming. The wound closed slowly. The light flickered once. Twice. Vanished.
Dah’Te grunted in frustration. She shook the wand and pressed the button. No light showed. She smacked it against her palm. The light didn’t return.
Ronan’s chest wound was mostly healed. It still had a jagged and raw look but it no longer bled. The gashes along his shoulder weren’t as severe, but required cleaning if they were to heal on their own.
She tore the rest of his shirt into strips and washed them in the river. Using the damp cloth, she cleansed the shoulder wound as best she could and rummaged through the remaining supplies. She found a packet of ointment that stung her nose when she smelled it. She smeared a fingertip’s amount onto one of her own cuts.
It burned and stung and made her gasp, but after a moment the pain dulled.
She applied the remainder to Ronan’s shoulder and a little to his chest. Using white cloth squares and strips of his shirt, she covered and bound his wounds.
Dah’Te gathered the pack’s contents and returned them to their home. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her wings around herself like a cloak, watching the steady rise and fall of Ronan’s chest as he slept beside her.
Ronan was unlike any Auilan man she’d known. Tall and lean, with a muscular frame. Golden hair cut close to his skull. No tribal markings. No wings. Small dark eyes that couldn’t see the same distance as hers could. Physical appearances aside, his easy smile and laughter lightened her.
Something stirred within her as the twin moons moved overhead in their immortal dance with the stars. She longed for that familiar lightness to find her, to comfort her. She traced the shape of his mouth with her finger. On impulse she leaned forward and briefly pressed her lips to his.
He sighed. “Dah’Te . . .”
She stretched out on the ground next to him. The exertions of the day had weakened her, and fear for her brother chilled her. She laid her head on Ronan’s chest, mindful to stay clear of his wounds.
He stirred, wrapping his arms around her.
Stretching her wings over them both for warmth, Dah’Te lay in the darkness and listened to the sound of Ronan’s breath for a long time before sleep finally pulled her into its embrace.
Ronan awoke to sunshine and splashing water. He lifted his upper body, resting on his elbows, and grimaced as his muscles protested at the movement. Pain spread from his right shoulder, across his chest to the left, and choked his breath. He forced himself to sit and was surprised to find his chest, shoulder, and ribs wrapped in what could only be the remnants of his shirt.
Confusion fogged his mind but soon cleared as the memory of being carried away by an Auilan surfaced. Blinking against the bright dawn light, he studied his surroundings.
He sat on the riverbank, sunlight glistening off the water as it tumbled over rocks in a miniature waterfall. His medikit lay next to him. He frowned. Hadn’t he lost it in the river?
Searching the pack, he found one of the seals had been damaged and water had seeped inside. Most of the sterile first-aid supplies were still intact. The bio-scanner wasn’t so fortunate. Water had corroded the circuits, making it a useless paperweight. The dermal regenerator seemed to work, but the charge was expended so it was nonfunctional as well. He sighed and closed the kit.
Once more the sound of splashing water called to him.
He stood and waited for the world to stop its insane spin. A breeze swayed the trees, and a flutter of white drew him toward the river. Reaching the shore, he picked up the flimsy white material the wind had knocked loose from a branch. The splashing water sounds ceased and he glanced to his right.
Dah’Te stood in the river’s shallows, the supple curve of her buttocks visible beneath the water. His eyes tracked the gentle curve of her spine upward to where her wings melded with flesh, and across her shoulders to the profiled swell of her bare breasts hidden by her arms. Her spiraling tattoos flowed with the contours of her muscles.
His gaze locked with hers. Heat rushed his face.
“You’re staring,” she said.
He dropped his gaze, trying to ignore the growing physical response of his body. “Sorry,” he murmured, balling the thin fabric of her toga in his hands. “I didn’t know you were, uh – didn’t know you were bathing – were here.”
Water sloshed.
He glanced at her in time to see her uncovered breasts as her wings folded around her like a cloak. “I should go,” he said in a rush, and spun away.
“Ronan?”
He paused, back stiff, and body on fire with the urge to join her in the shallows.
“You have my clothes.” Amusement made her musical voice sound all the more lyrical.
He whispered a curse and tightened his grip on the fabric. His head and body warred. He was a doctor. He’d seen naked people. Seeing Dah’Te shouldn’t be any different from viewing a patient.
And yet he froze when he tried to face her.
A gentle touch on his back prickled his flesh and stuttered his breath.
Dah’Te traced the edge of his shoulder bandage as she moved to stand before him. “Your arm?”
He kept his eyes averted. “No pain.”
Her other hand slipped up his opposite arm to rest on the second bandage. “Your chest?”
An ache pulsed under her touch. He met her gaze. “Hurts.”
Worry knitted her brow. “The wound?”
He dropped the wad of fabric he held to cup her chin. “My heart,” he whispered, and captured her lips with his own.
She opened to him. He reveled in her softness. Feathers trailed over his bare back as her wings caught him in an Auilan embrace. His arms snaked around her waist and drew her to him.
But it wasn’t close enough.
Soon Ronan lay on his back with Dah’Te astride his hips as he moved inside her. Her soft moans spurred his rhythm. Sunlight silhouetted her wide-spread wings and lit her upturned face as her back bowed in ecstasy. Her climax shattered him and left him spent and trembling in her arms.
It took the better part of the morning for them to make their way back to the solar-rover. Dah’Te had argued that flying would be faster, but Ronan was adamant that his feet would remain on the ground. She didn’t understand his fear of high places, but she accepted it. Staying grounded for too long made her anxious as well.
She glanced at Ronan’s bare back as he bent over to check the rover’s instruments. He muttered and fiddled with controls. Her gaze shifted downward to his buttocks and legs. Her mind drifted to their lovemaking and the excitement she’d felt when she’d discovered the strength hidden beneath his tender mannerisms. He hadn’t left her wanting.
And yet, once they left the seclusion of their riverside camp, guilt had taken root in her mind. The closer she and Ronan had drawn to the place where she’d left her brother, the more that guilt had weighed on her, until she’d felt it would break her.
She forced herself to turn away and scan the skies for Talehon scouts. Two of the three who attacked them yesterday could’ve returned to their clan for reinforcements. She and Ronan would be outnumbered. Ronan and Linse, if he were found, would be killed. A kindness compared to her fate. If captured, her wings would be clipped and she would be made an amusement for Talehon warriors.
Dah’Te shuddered, her wings bristling. She wanted to find Linse and return to Azein clan territory. She rested an uneasy hand on the hilt of her sword. It was their only defense. Ronan had lost his weapon to the river.
“Star Crossed” © by Cathy Clamp. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Naturally Beautiful” © by Jamie Leigh Hansen. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Seven Months of Forever” © by Linnea Sinclair. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Memories of Gravity” © by Patrice Sarath. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Fade Away and Radiate” © by Michele Lang. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“New Earth Twelve” © by Mandy M. Roth. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Red Dawn” © by Delilah Devlin. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Racing Hearts” © by Kiersten Fay. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“In the Interest of Security” © by Regan Black. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“End of the Line” © by Bianca D’Arc. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Space Cowboy” © by Donna Kauffman. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Tales from the Second Chance Saloon: Macawley’s List” © by Linnea Sinclair. First published in Romance and Beyond Magazine, Issue 11, Vol 3, Number 3, 2000.
“Wasteland” © by Jess Granger. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Nuns and Huns” © by Charlene Teglia. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Song of Saire” © by Leanna Renee Hieber. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Noah” © by C. L. Wilson. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Written in Ink” © by Susan Sizemore. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Nobody’s Present” © by Marcella Burnard. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
The future is friendly. Well, actually, the future is more than friendly. It’s a bit over-friendly, if anything. Clumsy spacesuits and clunky helmets have done nothing to dampen our ardor, and even in those bleak dystopian visions where we keep up our wanton environmental destruction of the planet we call home, it’s love that manages to provide some light at the end of the tunnel.
On space ships, on newly colonized planets, on versions of Earth that we may recognize, or not, and amidst our own and alien species, there is no shortage of love in the future. And that is a cause for celebration. Whatever lies ahead may be all-encompassing and vast, but we can be comforted by the knowledge that we’ll always be falling in and out of love, being swept off our feet by meetings with handsome strangers, and longing, lusting and loving, far into an uncertain future. Whether we travel to new worlds or struggle to adapt to radical new changes on Earth, we can always expect to experience the warm, familiar feelings that make us human.
Although the setting might throw you, you’ll feel right at home in the future. Meet hardy pioneers settling new planetary colonies, hoping for a fresh start on a new planet, complete with a government grant and a brand-new mate. Clashes with local, indigenous populations can lead to danger, adventure and interspecies love. Space is the newest new frontier, and the race to secure new territory brings all the old familiar faces out of the woodwork from Earth’s dubious colonial past.
It’s no surprise that big business plays a prominent role in the future, as does the military. Far-reaching corporations of limitless wealth finance the exploration of new worlds, seeking the profit that new, untapped resources can supply. The military provides the muscle to fight the wars in space or dirtside, complete with genetic modifications and space-age nutritional supplements. In the future, peace seems even more elusive than it does today. The post-colonial world is over, and the race for new colonies has begun, bringing with it the same age-old aggression and ruthlessness.
But romance always saves the day, and there is a light-heartedness to these future-set stories, with great lashings of humor and warmth. You’ll meet former romantic partners trying to put the past behind them – and not succeeding – as they prepare to enter an intergalactic space race; time-traveling rebels out to romance the past; and great characters like Linnea Sinclair’s recently deflowered bio-’cybe Kel-Paten, who makes living in space seem like a really good idea. Perhaps it’s true that in space no one can hear you scream, but after sampling the stories here, you’ll be sure that they must at least be able to hear you laugh.
Trisha Telep
For the human settlers of Maji – planet MAJ07, as it was officially designated in colony reports – Earth was a legend spoken of in the same reverent tones as Avalon, Nirvana, or Heaven. Wars, climate changes, and the decadent life of the ancient homeworlders had left only a blasted wasteland. Humans had had no choice but to take to the stars in search of new worlds.
The journey from Earth to Maji had taken hundreds of years. All settlers had been placed in cryogenic sleep, but small groups had been awakened along the way to run the ships, monitor the status of their fellow travelers, and procreate to ensure genetic diversity.
Ronan Frayne, like all inhabitants of New Denver settlement, had been born and educated on the colony transport. Upon reaching Maji, the towering mountains surrounding the settlement had both comforted and terrified him. Staring too long at their snowcapped peaks made his head swim and his stomach churn, but he loved the solidity they represented.
And solid ground was where Ronan desperately wanted to be. He clung to the ladder propped alongside the medical shelter’s newest extension. One of the workers had been injured, and as the colony’s doctor, it was Ronan’s job to assess the damage.
“Don’t look down,” he told himself through clenched teeth. Concentrating on the roofline above him, he clasped the next rung and pushed with his shaky legs. “Four more and you’re safe.”
An eternity seemed to pass, but Ronan finally hoisted himself onto the roof and his stomach dropped. Large holes gaped across the incomplete structure, offering unfettered views of the debris scattered across the floor below. Groaning, he hooked his safety line to the cable skirting the construction zone and rose unsteadily to his feet.
“Over here,” one of the workers called, waving his hand from the other side of a chasm.
Ronan nodded and shuffled his way through the discarded tools and building materials. All work had stopped and wouldn’t resume until the injured worker was on the ground. He reached the two remaining workers and squatted. “What happened?”
“Laser welder malfunctioned,” the injured worker said. He held a bloodied hand to the right side of his face. “Focusing crystal shattered.”
Ronan set down his medikit and flipped it open. He grabbed the compact scanner and gently encouraged the man to lower his hand to reveal a deep cut over his brow. He swiped the scanner over the injury. “Was anyone else hit by the shrapnel?”
The other worker shook his head. “No one else was in the area.”
Finishing his exam, Ronan reached for a dermal regenerator. “This may sting a bit,” he murmured.
Blue light bathed the cut and the worker flinched.
“Hold still.”
Several minutes passed before Ronan disengaged the regenerator. The worker’s cut had mended, the flesh sealing itself and leaving only a thin pink line. He scanned the site once more. “That should take care of it, but you need to rest for the remainder of the day,” he said, stowing his equipment. “If you feel any pain or dizziness, let me know immediately.”
The worker grimaced but nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”
A shadow passed over the men as the second worker helped the other to his feet. Ronan glanced skyward.
A winged creature flew overhead, silhouetted against the afternoon sun. It swooped and twirled along the thermal drafts rising from the valley.
“Budgie,” one of the workers muttered.
Ronan frowned at the use of the slur. When human settlers had arrived on Maji, they’d been surprised to find it inhabited by a race of winged humanoids. The Auilans, as they were properly named, lived high in the surrounding mountains. Early contact with the tribal race had met with mixed results. Most wanted little or no contact with the newcomers. However, one clan, the Azein, welcomed the humans and frequently visited the settlement.
Sunlight flashed off white-and-brown feathers as the Auilan soared overhead.
Ronan’s frown turned to a smile. He knew that pattern well.
“It’s Data.” One of the workers groaned.
“Dotty,” Ronan corrected his mispronunciation.
“Whatever.”
One of the few female Azeins to venture into New Denver, Dah’Te was intelligent and curious about humans. Ronan looked forward to her visits and eagerly answered her questions in exchange for information on Auilan culture. He continued to watch as she circled.
Suddenly Dah’Te tucked her wings and plummeted toward the medical center.
He and the workers ducked as she unfurled her wings at the last possible moment and veered away, landing lightly on a nearby stack of steel girders.
A pair of great brown-and-white wings trailed down her back. His gaze drifted over her body, noting the elongated bird-like feet and four-fingered human-like hands ending in short talons. Dark hair framed her round face. Sunlight cast her skin in warm gold. Tribal tattoos traced up her arms and legs, and adorned her chest beneath a short toga-like covering.
“Ronan.” She gasped his name. Larger-than-human amber eyes focused on him. Small abrasions marred her limbs and face. A cut along her shoulder wept blood and clear fluids. “Need help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Linse and I hunt.” Her breathing was erratic, her movements jerky, her hands never straying far from the short broad-blade sword at her side. “Linse hurt.”
For the normally articulate Auilan to speak in clipped sentences, he knew her younger brother had to be in trouble. He gathered his equipment and stowed it in the medikit. “Where is Linse now?”
She pointed to the forest along the eastern mountains.
“What happened?”
“Talehons attack.”
The Azein and Talehon clans had been warring over territory for almost a year. Linse was young, only in his early teens, and for Dah’Te to risk leaving him to seek Ronan’s aid, the kid had to be in really bad shape.
Ronan grabbed his medikit and hurried for the ladder. Concern for the downed Auilan temporarily overcame his anxiety as he maneuvered around the roof’s yawning pits. He ignored the calls of the workers, shouldered his kit, uncoupled his safety line, and swung onto the ladder, foregoing the rungs and sliding down the rails.
As soon as his booted feet hit the dry ground, he sprinted for one of the nearby solar-rovers. Dah’Te landed a few yards away, stirring a dust cloud with her wings as he climbed into the vehicle’s open cab.
“Flying faster,” she said.
Visions of free-falling to his death through a cloudless blue sky invaded his mind. His stomach clenched and he shook his head. “We’ll need the rover to bring Linse back here.”
She hesitated for a moment and then clambered onto the flat-bed cargo area. Holding the roll bar, she pointed to a trail that sloped steadily upward into the mountains. “That way.”
The rover lurched forward and bounced over the construction site’s uneven turf.
It was foolish to head into the forest with dusk approaching, and even more so to go in search of an injured alien. But if the Talehons found Linse, they would surely kill him.
Ronan and Dah’Te sped through the forest trails, passing through swathes of deep shadow where the canopy thickened. More light filtered through the thinning trees the further they drove from New Denver. After what seemed like hours, Dah’Te tapped his shoulder and pointed to a small clearing. Ronan slowed the rover.
Broken branches littered the ground and the clean scent of fresh sap filled the air. Downy white-and-brown feathers drifted on the breeze to settle in clumps among the bright orange and blue wildflowers.
He stopped the rover, powered down the motor, and picked up his medikit. As he stepped from the vehicle, he hesitated, unsure about bringing the small plasma gun hidden beneath the dash. His oath as a doctor to cause no harm warred with his desire to help Dah’Te’s brother. Sighing, he released the locks, pulled the gun free, and strapped it to his thigh.
Dah’Te crouched by a tree’s base and he joined her. “I left Linse here,” she said, her speech improving now that she’d had time to calm down a bit. She gestured to a dark patch of bark. “He was bleeding and his wing was broken.”
Ronan studied their surroundings. “He can’t have gone far.”
“Unless the Talehons took him,” she muttered, and stood.
“Don’t think like that.”
She shrugged and moved away. Her wing brushed his arm and he shivered as a small jolt shocked his spine. “I’m being realistic, Ronan.” She glanced skyward from the clumps of feathers on the ground, and back to the feather trail. “Talehon clan won’t hesitate to kill a youngling like Linse.”
He heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Dah’Te,” he said softly and grabbed her arm to stop her. Like all Auilans, she was petite, the top of her head barely reaching Ronan’s shoulder. He stooped to face her squarely.
Tears glimmered in the corners of her wide eyes.
“We’ll find him.” He cupped her cheek. “I promise.”
She stepped close and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. Her wings folded to encircle him in a double embrace. “You shouldn’t make an oath you may not honor.”
The thrumming beat of wings drew Ronan’s attention to the treetops in time to see three male Auilans plunging toward them.
“Down!” He pitched himself to the ground, pulling Dah’Te along with him as the men soared overhead in a flurry of black-and-red wings.
Dah’Te sprang to her feet, drawing her sword, and launched into the air in pursuit of the Talehon clan attackers.
He scrambled to his feet, calling and running after her. He hurdled fallen trees and sidestepped debris piles where vipers often hid. Brambles tugged at his pants. Branches slapped his arms and chest and left stinging welts. Ground-covering roots snagged his feet and slowed his chase.
Sharp bird-like cries and the metallic ring of clashing swords ricocheted through the forest. Shifting shadows underneath the sprawling canopy cloaked the Auilans’ dark wings, making it difficult to pinpoint their locations. The sound of rushing water soon reached Ronan as he followed the trail of broken branches and drifting feathers.
A thrashing ball of wings and limbs crashed into Ronan, knocking him off balance. He tumbled into a bramble patch, thorns raking and slicing his skin, as he slid down a steep incline. His shoulder clipped a boulder, spinning him into the base of a large tree, which prevented him from falling into the swift current of the river below.
Groaning, he sat, braced his back against the tree, and pulled free the plasma gun. He searched for signs of his assailants or Dah’Te.
A flash of red to his right. A call from the left.
His instincts screamed for him to run. He forced himself to remain still.
Silver glinted as a black-and-red-winged Talehon dropped to the ground in front of him, swinging a short sword at his head.
He ducked, twisting to land on his back as he raised the gun, and fired. A bolt of superheated plasma lit the forest and skimmed the Auilan’s side before tearing through an outstretched wing. Feathers blazed. The Talehon shrieked and retreated in a trail of charred feathers and smoke.
Ronan needed to find Dah’Te. He pushed to his feet.
Another Talehon swooped into view.
Ronan fired and missed.
The Auilan barreled into him. Taloned hands ripped into his shirt to grip flesh. With a few powerful wingstrokes, they were airborne and gliding over the river.
Ronan’s stomach dipped and his head spun as the Auilan rose steadily higher. He briefly registered that he still had the pulse gun. He didn’t dare use it, however, as an image of his own broken and twisted body floating away on the river’s current danced before him.
A quickly moving shadow darted over them. The Talehon grunted and dropped several feet as something slammed into his back.
Ronan cried out in pain as one of the Auilan’s hands tore free. He caught a brief glimpse of Dah’Te on the Talehon’s back, ripping at his wings, before the Auilan released his grip, and Ronan was free-falling.
The icy river water shocked his breath. The rapid current tore the plasma gun from his hand. He kicked for the surface and gasped a fresh air supply before the flow pulled him under. His body slammed painfully into submerged boulders. The heavy medikit on his back weighed him down. He shrugged out of it only to have it also ripped from his hands as the current tossed him into another boulder.
He struggled through the water, broke free, and managed to grab a low hanging branch. Holding onto it, he kicked against the powerful flow and inched toward the safety of the bank. He pulled himself on shore, gasping and coughing to clear his lungs of water. His entire body ached. His chest and shoulders were on fire where the Auilan’s talons had slashed him open. Darkness clouded his sight.
“Dah’Te . . .”
Shivering from the cold, he collapsed and allowed the shadows to consume him.
Night nibbled at daylight as Dah’Te followed the river, searching from aloft for evidence of Ronan. She’d seen him fall into the swiftly moving water as she grappled with the Talehon clansman.
When the first attack came, she’d pursued the Talehons. They had soon separated, the largest one turning on her. The battle had been brief. He’d outmatched her in strength, but her smaller size allowed for quicker strikes. She’d left him sprawled and lifeless on the forest floor.
She’d seen a second Talehon carrying away Ronan and attacked from above. Seeking to damage his wings and force him to land, she’d accomplished her goal, but Ronan had been lost to the river. The third attacker had vanished.
Guilt stabbed at her. It had been her suggestion to take her younger brother Linse hunting. When he’d challenged her to an aerial race, she’d joyfully accepted. But she’d been careless and hadn’t noticed that they’d strayed into the territory at the heart of the dispute between Azein and Talehon clans.
The Talehons had attacked without warning. She and Linse had fought them off, but not before Linse had taken a strong hit in his left wing. He’d been grounded, injured, and she had been forced to leave him to seek help.
That she had thought to go to the humans – to Ronan – instead of her own clan surprised her. She liked the human healer. He freely answered her questions and asked only for his own to be answered in return. But, again, her carelessness had demanded a price, and now Ronan was lost.
She banked and dropped lower to the water. Her eyesight adjusted quickly to the gloaming, but it would still be easy to miss Ronan as darkness obscured the landscape.
Movement in the water pulled her into a dive. An object bobbed along the surface, caught in an eddy between two boulders. She swooped low, snatched her target from the current, and glided to shore. The red-and-white markings blazed in the dying sunlight.
It was Ronan’s pack.
She spread her wings and ran for a large boulder near the shore. Using it as a springboard, she launched into the air. Ronan’s pack weighed her down, forcing her to stay low to the river. Wing tips skimmed the water’s surface as they bent and flexed to keep her aloft.
Her eyes scanned the shoreline. Twice she thought she saw a human form only to find it was a downed tree or rock outcrop. A third such shadowy form appeared to her left. She veered toward it and hope blossomed as light from the newly risen twin moons highlighted a shock of blond hair.
She landed in a run. “Ronan!”
He groaned as she slid to a stop beside him.
Carefully she rolled him onto his back. Deep wounds marred his chest and shoulders from the Talehon’s claws.
“Ronan.” She cradled his face. “Wake up.”
He moaned but didn’t open his eyes.
Dah’Te ripped away the remains of his shirt to expose the wounds. She grabbed his pack and dumped its waterlogged contents on the ground. Searching through the devices and supplies, despair crept into her heart. She wasn’t a skilled healer. The contents spread before her meant nothing to her untrained eyes.
But she had to try.
She forced herself to be calm. She’d seen Ronan use his healer’s tools. She only needed to remember.
Picking up a cylindrical device, she examined it. She tapped its ends with a talon. It remained silent. Laying it aside, she picked up a strange wand-like instrument. She pressed a small button on its side. Blue light filled the wand.
Recognition slammed into her.
She held the wand over a small cut on her arm. The skin beneath warmed, tingled, and then stitched itself together. She smiled and moved the wand to the worst of Ronan’s wounds on his chest.
Long minutes passed before the first signs of healing showed, and the blue light was dimming. The wound closed slowly. The light flickered once. Twice. Vanished.
Dah’Te grunted in frustration. She shook the wand and pressed the button. No light showed. She smacked it against her palm. The light didn’t return.
Ronan’s chest wound was mostly healed. It still had a jagged and raw look but it no longer bled. The gashes along his shoulder weren’t as severe, but required cleaning if they were to heal on their own.
She tore the rest of his shirt into strips and washed them in the river. Using the damp cloth, she cleansed the shoulder wound as best she could and rummaged through the remaining supplies. She found a packet of ointment that stung her nose when she smelled it. She smeared a fingertip’s amount onto one of her own cuts.
It burned and stung and made her gasp, but after a moment the pain dulled.
She applied the remainder to Ronan’s shoulder and a little to his chest. Using white cloth squares and strips of his shirt, she covered and bound his wounds.
Dah’Te gathered the pack’s contents and returned them to their home. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her wings around herself like a cloak, watching the steady rise and fall of Ronan’s chest as he slept beside her.
Ronan was unlike any Auilan man she’d known. Tall and lean, with a muscular frame. Golden hair cut close to his skull. No tribal markings. No wings. Small dark eyes that couldn’t see the same distance as hers could. Physical appearances aside, his easy smile and laughter lightened her.
Something stirred within her as the twin moons moved overhead in their immortal dance with the stars. She longed for that familiar lightness to find her, to comfort her. She traced the shape of his mouth with her finger. On impulse she leaned forward and briefly pressed her lips to his.
He sighed. “Dah’Te . . .”
She stretched out on the ground next to him. The exertions of the day had weakened her, and fear for her brother chilled her. She laid her head on Ronan’s chest, mindful to stay clear of his wounds.
He stirred, wrapping his arms around her.
Stretching her wings over them both for warmth, Dah’Te lay in the darkness and listened to the sound of Ronan’s breath for a long time before sleep finally pulled her into its embrace.
Ronan awoke to sunshine and splashing water. He lifted his upper body, resting on his elbows, and grimaced as his muscles protested at the movement. Pain spread from his right shoulder, across his chest to the left, and choked his breath. He forced himself to sit and was surprised to find his chest, shoulder, and ribs wrapped in what could only be the remnants of his shirt.
Confusion fogged his mind but soon cleared as the memory of being carried away by an Auilan surfaced. Blinking against the bright dawn light, he studied his surroundings.
He sat on the riverbank, sunlight glistening off the water as it tumbled over rocks in a miniature waterfall. His medikit lay next to him. He frowned. Hadn’t he lost it in the river?
Searching the pack, he found one of the seals had been damaged and water had seeped inside. Most of the sterile first-aid supplies were still intact. The bio-scanner wasn’t so fortunate. Water had corroded the circuits, making it a useless paperweight. The dermal regenerator seemed to work, but the charge was expended so it was nonfunctional as well. He sighed and closed the kit.
Once more the sound of splashing water called to him.
He stood and waited for the world to stop its insane spin. A breeze swayed the trees, and a flutter of white drew him toward the river. Reaching the shore, he picked up the flimsy white material the wind had knocked loose from a branch. The splashing water sounds ceased and he glanced to his right.
Dah’Te stood in the river’s shallows, the supple curve of her buttocks visible beneath the water. His eyes tracked the gentle curve of her spine upward to where her wings melded with flesh, and across her shoulders to the profiled swell of her bare breasts hidden by her arms. Her spiraling tattoos flowed with the contours of her muscles.
His gaze locked with hers. Heat rushed his face.
“You’re staring,” she said.
He dropped his gaze, trying to ignore the growing physical response of his body. “Sorry,” he murmured, balling the thin fabric of her toga in his hands. “I didn’t know you were, uh – didn’t know you were bathing – were here.”
Water sloshed.
He glanced at her in time to see her uncovered breasts as her wings folded around her like a cloak. “I should go,” he said in a rush, and spun away.
“Ronan?”
He paused, back stiff, and body on fire with the urge to join her in the shallows.
“You have my clothes.” Amusement made her musical voice sound all the more lyrical.
He whispered a curse and tightened his grip on the fabric. His head and body warred. He was a doctor. He’d seen naked people. Seeing Dah’Te shouldn’t be any different from viewing a patient.
And yet he froze when he tried to face her.
A gentle touch on his back prickled his flesh and stuttered his breath.
Dah’Te traced the edge of his shoulder bandage as she moved to stand before him. “Your arm?”
He kept his eyes averted. “No pain.”
Her other hand slipped up his opposite arm to rest on the second bandage. “Your chest?”
An ache pulsed under her touch. He met her gaze. “Hurts.”
Worry knitted her brow. “The wound?”
He dropped the wad of fabric he held to cup her chin. “My heart,” he whispered, and captured her lips with his own.
She opened to him. He reveled in her softness. Feathers trailed over his bare back as her wings caught him in an Auilan embrace. His arms snaked around her waist and drew her to him.
But it wasn’t close enough.
Soon Ronan lay on his back with Dah’Te astride his hips as he moved inside her. Her soft moans spurred his rhythm. Sunlight silhouetted her wide-spread wings and lit her upturned face as her back bowed in ecstasy. Her climax shattered him and left him spent and trembling in her arms.
It took the better part of the morning for them to make their way back to the solar-rover. Dah’Te had argued that flying would be faster, but Ronan was adamant that his feet would remain on the ground. She didn’t understand his fear of high places, but she accepted it. Staying grounded for too long made her anxious as well.
She glanced at Ronan’s bare back as he bent over to check the rover’s instruments. He muttered and fiddled with controls. Her gaze shifted downward to his buttocks and legs. Her mind drifted to their lovemaking and the excitement she’d felt when she’d discovered the strength hidden beneath his tender mannerisms. He hadn’t left her wanting.
And yet, once they left the seclusion of their riverside camp, guilt had taken root in her mind. The closer she and Ronan had drawn to the place where she’d left her brother, the more that guilt had weighed on her, until she’d felt it would break her.
She forced herself to turn away and scan the skies for Talehon scouts. Two of the three who attacked them yesterday could’ve returned to their clan for reinforcements. She and Ronan would be outnumbered. Ronan and Linse, if he were found, would be killed. A kindness compared to her fate. If captured, her wings would be clipped and she would be made an amusement for Talehon warriors.
Dah’Te shuddered, her wings bristling. She wanted to find Linse and return to Azein clan territory. She rested an uneasy hand on the hilt of her sword. It was their only defense. Ronan had lost his weapon to the river.
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The Mammoth Book of Futuristic Romance
Trisha Telep
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