Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (24 page)

Doing all he could to not appear to be studying Huk, he evaluated the situation.  He needed to get the Nobek to turn just a hair to the left, making his aim a bit more awkward and opening him up towards the door that led to the rest of the home.  That would give Wynhod a better chance at a kill shot, right to the chest. 

Gelan abruptly shifted to one side, getting one foot flat on the floor.  Huk stiffened at the motion.  Gelan saw how his hand tightened on the blaster, as if about to shoot.  The Dramok spread his hands wide and held them out on either side of his head in a placatory pose.

He said, “Sorry.  Didn’t mean to startle you.  I took a blaster hit to my right leg a few months back, and it’s not doing so well.  I need to get off it, okay?”

Huk eased down just a bit.  He sneered at Gelan.  “A Nobek would sit and enjoy the pain.”

Gelan shrugged.  “Yeah, well, that’s why your breed is so damned tough.  I’m going to be in agony in a few seconds, and I’m not a Nobek.”  It was all a ruse.  Even if Gelan hadn’t been lying about the bad leg, pain had never been a big deal to him.  He just wanted to get in a decent position to lunge at Huk.

The Nobek’s eyes narrowed.  Gelan thought he wouldn’t go for it, but his foe abruptly relented.  “Move real slow.  Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“No problem.”

Gelan managed to maneuver himself closer to Matara Lis without blocking any shot that might come from the invading enforcers.  He eased himself onto his left hip, getting both feet on the floor.  He kept his hands splayed out on either side, both for Huk’s benefit and because it would allow him to grab the woman much faster.  At a time like this, even half a second would count.

He sighed, as if in relief.  “All right.  That’s a much better position for me.”

Huk sneered.  “So glad you’re comfortable now.  Let’s talk about how you’re going to get me out of here alive and happy.”

This was it.  Gelan was out of time.  If Wynhod and his team were not in position, he and this clan were all about to die.

He fixed Huk with a steady gaze.  “It’s not going to happen, Nobek.  You know we can’t let you go.  Law enforcement has a strict policy on not negotiating with murderers and hostage takers.”

Huk flashed his fangs.  “I’m telling you that you have no choice.  This bitch is dead if you don’t give me what I want.”

Gelan looked at Lis.  She met his gaze.  He looked down at the floor next to Huk and back into her eyes.  She blinked, but her expression of quiet fear never wavered.  He didn’t know if she got the message, didn’t even know if she recognized it as a message, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.  All he had left was hope and action.

Gelan told Huk, “No deal, you murdering asshole.  You’re dead.”

Huk’s expression went feral in an instant.  Then his eyes suddenly cut to one side and widened. 

Gelan lunged for the Matara, yanking her away from Huk and down to the floor.  She went down as the Nobek’s blaster boomed loud, making Gelan’s ears pop.  The Dramok had no time to see if the woman he dropped on top of still possessed a head.  He could only shield her with his own body as more blaster fire deafened him.  The huge volley told him Wynhod and the enforcer squad had arrived and fired at Huk.

He clutched Matara Lis, waiting to live or die as blaster shots raged close by.  The air shook with the pounding sounds.

An instant later, silence reigned but for the piercing ringing in his ears.  Gelan slowly raised his head, noting Matara Lis looking up at him with wide eyes, her face and all the rest of her intact.  A big pair of boots stood on either side of them, and he looked up to see Wynhod looming huge over their heads, his blaster still pointed where Huk had sat.  Gelan looked over his shoulder at the spot.  The raw, dripping mess left bore no resemblance to a man.  The enforcement squad had pretty much disintegrated the Nobek.

Gelan slowly rose off the Matara, trying hard not to feel her smaller body against his.  He could barely hear himself in the wake of all the blaster fire, though he thought sure he probably shouted.  “Are you all right, Matara?”

She squinted at him.  He had to read her lips to know what she said.  “I’m okay, but I can’t hear.”

Forming his words carefully so Lis would understand, he said, “Me neither.  Close range blaster fire does that.  Your hearing will return.”

She nodded, and Gelan stood.  He stepped back as her clan converged on her, touching and exclaiming in voices he could barely make out. 

Enforcers surrounded them, carefully ushering Gelan to one side so he wouldn’t step in a puddle of Huk.  Standing, he could now see the Delir henchman’s forearms and hands as well as lower legs and feet were still intact.  Nasty.  Gelan fought not to smile at a well-deserved fate.

He called out, “Bring in the emergency crews to check on Matara Lis.  Send Forensics in.”

“We got it,” Wynhod said, drawing near and pulling Gelan further away from the rest with a steady arm.  His voice was distant, but it was there.

The enforcer looked him over carefully and shook his head.  “You are the luckiest man I know.  Huk turned his blaster on you when you went for the Matara.  You were only inches away and he got off one shot, but he was looking at us, so his aim was off.  If he’d pulled the trigger again—” Wynhod paused and shook his head.  “He was fast, but I was faster.”

“For which I am very grateful.”  Gelan’s adrenaline still pumped like mad.  He realized he felt a little high from it.  He grinned at Wynhod.  “Let’s do that again.  Soon.”

Wynhod grinned back.  In Gelan’s excited state, the enforcer’s fierce face was too stunning to not get the Dramok hard.  The Nobek noticed that part too and laughed.  “Yeah, you’re exactly what I’ve suspected all along.”

“What would that be?”

Wynhod considered for a moment, then slowly shook his head.  “My Dramok.  Ask me officially.  I want us to do this right.”

Gelan’s brows rose.  “In the middle of blood and bedlam?”  He motioned towards the splattered remains of Nobek Huk.

Wynhod nodded.  “It seems appropriate for a pair like us.  Ask, or I’ll beat it out of you.”

Gelan snorted.  “Good luck with that.  I am feeling generous, given how I’m still alive by your hand, however.  Wynhod, will you be my clan Nobek?”

“Yes, Dramok Gelan.  I formally accept your offer to clan.”

Chapter 15

Gelan and Wynhod raised glasses of bohut to one another, saluting their official status as clanmates as the sun slowly sank between the surrounding mountains.  The gathered guests did so as well.  They shouted a chorus of “Drink well.  Live well.”

With that toast, cups of liquor were downed and the latest round of applause swelled.  No doubt everyone was ready to get to the party portion of the day, but the guests who had attended the outdoor clanning ceremony were still sober and on their best behavior.  For this last moment, the large and carefully tended garden at the base of the mountain where Gelan and Wynhod lived remained a place of quiet observance. 

The gathered guests waited with patient politeness as Wynhod hugged Gelan’s mother Asilef and bowed to her clanmates.  Then Gelan bowed to Wynhod’s surviving parents, Dramok Leva and Imdiko Vanli.  He nodded to their guest, Nobek Jabil.  He’d felt some concern over how Wynhod would feel about his fathers bringing their new paramour to the ceremony, but the stoic Nobek had shrugged it off.

“They’ve been without a Nobek for many years now.  I admit, I have worried for them since I moved away.  It’s good to know they have someone from my breed around to look after things,” he’d said after receiving the request.  Then he added in typical Wynhod style, “Jabil had better do well by them or his hide will hang on my private room’s wall.”

In the here and now, there was only laughter and cheer.  Gelan’s father Dramok Kehah warned his new clanmate, “You’ve done it now, Wynhod.  You’re stuck with him.”

Wynhod blinked several times.  “What?  Wait, the drugs are wearing off.  What have I done?  I clanned
who
?”  He looked at Gelan, his face comical with pretended shock.

That earned a great deal of laughter all around.  Gelan’s parents had come to accept the clanning well before the ceremony, especially when they’d heard how Wynhod had saved Gelan’s life from Nobek Huk.  As the Dramok had suspected she would, his mother had made all the arrangements for the ceremony and the reception afterward. 

Gelan couldn’t help the smile that wouldn’t leave his face.  Wynhod was his partner, in work and in life.  While he wasn’t prone to deep self-analysis, Gelan knew instinctively that something hollow within him had been filled.  Being with Wynhod felt like recovering a missing part of himself.  He had no doubt they would be happy together for as long as they both drew breath.

His mother made shooing motions at the guests, trying to get them to go to the long tables set with trays of food and drink.  “Everyone, eat before everything melts in this heat.  Honestly, Gelan, why we had to do this in the middle of summer—”

“I had already put in for the vacation time, and I’m not due for my next leave for another nine months.”

“Well, I’m sure your supervisor would have let you move it to a more seasonable time of year.”

Gelan noted how Utta suddenly headed for the food table, the elder Dramok ducking a little to avoid Matara Asilef’s searching gaze as he went.  Gelan guessed his boss knew a thing or two about displeased mothers.

Wynhod’s eyes widened as he saw the crowd gathering around the mostly catered dishes.  “Hey!  Just a moment, everyone.  I get the first helping of chafga casserole.”  Before he dashed off to claim his favorite dish, one of half a dozen Asilef had prepared herself, he asked her, “So, how often do we get to come over for dinner?”

Gelan deadpanned, “He clanned me for your cooking, my mother.”

Wynhod nodded.  “It’s well worth the sacrifice.”

They ate and drank, and despite Asilef’s concerns, no one complained about the temperature.  The encroaching night brought cooling breezes anyway, taking out the summer swelter. 

Exterior lights came on as the sky grew darker.  Wynhod, many of the other Nobeks, and some Dramoks indulged in the accuracy, speed, and strength games that had been set up to entertain the more rough-and-tumble members of the crowd.    Everywhere Gelan looked during the hours of the party, he saw laughter and happiness.

At one point he found a moment to step away.  He took a breath, grateful for a few seconds to not talk to wellwishers.  He’d also spent a large portion of his time fielding his mother’s concerns that she hadn’t ordered enough food and drink.  Far into the party, no one seemed in any hurry to quit the festivities over a little thing like the late hour.  The food ran low, but plenty of alcohol remained, so Gelan was sure everyone would remain happy.

During that quiet moment, he noticed Krijero standing in the background, watching a bunch of Nobeks engaged in a rappelling race down the mountainside.

The Imdiko stood alone, the smile on his face wistful as he looked at the boisterous good time others were having.  Gelan noticed a small food stain on the psych’s nicely tailored turquoise shirt, another piece of clothing victimized by Krijero’s clumsiness.  However, his trousers were clean and neatly pressed for a change.  They clung to long, lithe thighs in a way that made Gelan’s mouth dry.  Not only that, but Krijero had tamed his usually messy wealth of hair, tying it back in a ponytail and leaving his face exposed.  He seemed unaware of the appreciative looks he got from the assembled guests.  Some were fellow officers from their precinct, but few seemed to recognize him.  When anyone got close as if they would speak to him, Krijero ducked his head and studied his shoes, turning away slightly to keep them from approaching.

Even as Gelan felt a mixture of sympathy and casual lust for the shy Imdiko, his mind dwelt on Krijero’s assertion that the Delir case was a bigger matter than gang crime.  In light of Huk’s similar allegations, it worried the Dramok.  They’d finished the Delir issue; the drug had not appeared anywhere in the weeks since the lab that made it had been destroyed.  Still, the men who had ultimately been the driving force behind it were still at large.  If Krijero and Huk were right, then Delir might come back.

Yells got Gelan’s attention and he looked up at the rappel race.  His Nobek was halfway to the finish, well ahead of the other men trying to reach the ground.  Gelan snorted to see a couple of large rips in Wynhod’s nice clanning clothes, made of fine linens ordered by Asilef for this day.  Gelan looked to see her watching her new son, her lips pressed tight together, one foot tapping the ground in a way that Gelan knew all too well.  Wynhod would be waiting a long, long time before she baked him another chafga casserole.  He’d be lucky if he didn’t also get a piece of her mind, clanning day or not.

Gelan chuckled and put thoughts of criminals and Delir out of his head.  There would be time enough later to be concerned about such things.  Today was all about appreciating his good fortune, and he meant to wring every second of joy he could get out of it.

Book Two:  Krijero

Chapter 1