Authors: Berta's Choice
Merrick Falcoran stepped off the transport and took a deep breath of the cool, pre-dawn air. A moment later his brothers, Tor and Jerri, joined him. They’d hitched a ride on a military transport coming over from Berria, so hadn’t had any privacy on the long journey to discuss the issue of their Arima. That hadn’t prevented Merrick from thinking of nothing else for the entire journey.
“What bothers you, Merrick?” Tor asked as soon as they were alone on the dark airfield.
“Several things,” Merrick replied. “First, I keep remembering what Miss Aisling said to us about our Arima’s age.”
“We are far older than eighty-two years,” Jerri said. “Why should that bother you?”
“Because, as Miss Aisling said, Berta is human,” Merrick replied. “Humans do not age as we do. I believe that eighty-two years is quite a lot for a human.”
“I’ve seen humans that age and older who look much the same age as we do,” Jerri said.
“Yes, but Berta was a prisoner and, as Miss Aisling said, she is not in the best of health. Something tells me that she wouldn’t have had access to the modern medical treatments that slow aging in humans.”
“So you believe she will look like an aged human?” Tor asked.
“I think it is more than a possibility, yes,” Merrick said. “I think that is what Miss Aisling was trying to tell us.”
“Won’t the transformation process change her body back to its prime state?” Jerri asked.
“That’s the theory,” Merrick replied.
“More than a theory,” Tor argued. “Didn’t it eliminate some physical problems that Saige Lobo had?”
“That’s true,” Merrick said. “But will it do the same for age? There’s really no way to know for certain until we try it.”
“There’s no sense in worrying about it,” Jerri said. “We must try it. It will work, or it won’t.”
“There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?” Tor asked.
“Yes,” Merrick replied. “From the moment we scented our Arima in the back of that car, our mating fangs descended and we felt the urge to find her. But there is one effect that we did not experience.”
“Such as?” Jerri asked, frowning.
Merrick looked at Tor, but apparently he hadn’t noticed either. Merrick himself hadn’t realized it until they were half way between Berria and the ranch. Once it occurred to him though, he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t realized it sooner.
“Did either of you have a sexual response to the scent of our Arima?” he asked.
Both Tor and Jerri looked surprised, then confused. Merrick nodded in understanding. He was surprised and confused as well.
“What does it mean?” Jerri asked.
“I have no idea,” Merrick replied. “One thing I do know is that we need to behave with more restraint than we did at the Gryphons’ home. We are lucky that the Gryphons are older and calmer than the other Consuls, otherwise things could have gotten very ugly for us.”
“Agreed,” Tor said.
“I don’t think we did anything so wrong,” Jerri objected. “We’d just scented our Arima. It’s not something that happens every single day.”
“Nevertheless, we will conduct ourselves with more restraint and respect when we visit the Bearens’ home,” Merrick said. “They have an Arima as well as three infant sons now. Their very nature will make them more protective than usual, and as Berta is under their protection, it will do us no good to antagonize them.”
“No one may interfere between a male-set and their Arima,” Jerri said. “It’s against our law.”
“You can tell the Bearens that while they’re ripping our heads off for our rude behavior,” Tor said wryly.
Jerri grinned, but nodded. “Yes, I see your point. I’ll dust off my best manners and put ‘em on.”
“How long do you think we have to wait before we approach their home?” Tor asked.
“Not too long,” Merrick replied. “I think dawn is late enough.”
“I thought you just said we had to be careful,” Jerri said. “Waking up the Bearens in their own den before sunrise doesn’t seem too careful to me.”
“I know, but the truth is, I don’t think I can wait any longer than that,” Merrick admitted. “My tension is ramping up as we stand here.”
“Mine as well,” Tor said. “We may not have the sexual fever, but the need to see our Arima, be with her, and make sure that she is safe is intense.”
“Let’s go then,” Merrick said. He took two running steps and jumped, his arms transforming into gigantic wings covered with short black fur, the rest of his body transforming immediately after. Before Tor or Jerri had a chance to follow, Merrick was fully transformed into a gigantic black falcon with a violet chest, violet markings on top of its head, a razor sharp, curved black beak and violet eyes. He circled the airfield once to give Tor and Jerri time to catch up, then shot off toward the Bearens’ house, and their Arima.
Berta awoke to the sound of knocking on her bedroom door. For one heart-stopping moment she was back on Earth, still a prisoner in the old Brethren desert compound. She’d been getting better lately, waking up normally without her heart racing and her palms sweating every morning, so it seemed more shocking now when the old reactions came back so suddenly.
“Berta?” Hope called from the other side of the door, instantly easing Berta’s fears.
“Come in, Hope,” Berta called as she sat up and pushed the sleeves of her nightgown down to her wrists, then reached for the bedside lamp.
The door opened and Hope stepped in, still wearing her robe. Berta glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was still very early.
“What’s the matter?” Berta asked, tossing her blanket aside and turning herself slowly and carefully so that her legs hung over the edge of the bed.
Hope dragged a wooden chair from the far side of the room over to the side of the bed and sat down in front of Berta. Her long blonde hair hung loose down her back, past her hips, and Berta stared at it for a moment. She’d never seen Hope without her hair in a thick braid over her shoulder, and had no idea that it was so long.
She realized that she was afraid of whatever had brought Hope into her bedroom in the middle of the night, and was searching for other things to think about. She looked up, meeting Hope’s clear, turquoise eyes with her own slightly rheumy dark blue eyes.
“What is it?” she asked, wincing slightly at the tremble in her own voice.
“Berta, I hardly even know how to tell you this,” Hope began. “It’s just so...unexpected.”
“Is someone sick, or hurt?” Berta asked.
“No, nothing like that,” Hope said quickly. “Everyone is just fine.”
Berta blew out a sigh of relief. “I don’t have a lot of people in my life to care about, Hope,” she said. “So long as those people are okay, nothing else is going to knock me off my pins. So go ahead and spit it out.”
Hope smiled reluctantly. “I’m not so sure about that, but here goes. You already know that you’re a
berezi
, Berta. You told all of us that when we first met you, back on Earth.”
Berta frowned as she tried to understand what her being a
berezi
could have to do with anything. “Yes, I’m a
berezi
,” she said. “Worst thing that ever happened to me.”
“Did you know that the word
berezi
is actually an ancient Jasani word?” Hope asked. Berta shook her head. “It was originally used to indicate an Arima that was not yet mated to her Rami, either because she was too young, or because she had not yet been found.”
Berta gasped. “Oh crap,” she said softly, her lips numb with shock. “You can’t mean...not really...oh crap.”
“Yes,” Hope said, relieved that Berta had, apparently, understood before she’d had to explain in detail. “They’re Falcorans, a younger male-set, but highly respected warriors. Their names are Merrick, Torrick and Jerrick.”
“And they’re here now?” Berta asked, her heart thumping uncomfortably in her chest as she struggled to absorb such impossible news. “How? Why?”
“They scented you on the sweater you made for Aisling,” Hope explained. “At first, they thought Aisling was their Arima, which I’m sure didn’t go over good with the Gryphons. Once they realized that the scent of their Arima was on the sweater, Aisling told them your name, and where to find you. They came here straight from Berria.”
“It’s not even dawn yet,” Berta objected. “How inconsiderate of them. Did they wake the babies?”
Hope smiled. “No, Berta, the boys are still sound asleep.”
“But they woke you, and the Bearens,” Berta said. “Did they have a reason other than that they wanted to see me?”
“No, they didn’t,” Hope replied. “But Berta, don’t forget, for them, finding their Arima is a very big deal. They aren’t really in full control of their emotions right now.”
“That’s no excuse,” Berta said stubbornly. “Do they know how old I am?”
“Yes, I think that Aisling told them, but I’m not sure they understand what that really means for you.”
“Well, they’re about to find out,” Berta said. She reached for her cane beside the bed and shuffled slowly toward her closet. “Please tell them I will be out in a few minutes.”
“I will,” Hope said. “We’ll wait for you in the living room.” She stood up and left Berta’s room, closing the door gently behind her. Jackson had promised her that the Falcorans would never do anything to harm Berta, nor would they force her into anything. In that case, she had to admit, she felt a little sorry for the Falcorans.
As soon as the door closed behind Hope, Berta allowed herself to relax. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the door jamb of the closet, staring blankly at the half dozen articles of clothing that were pretty much all she owned. There wasn’t anything pretty, or flirty. Why would there be? She was an eighty-two year old woman who looked more like a hundred and fifty with the current age control medications. Her hair was snow white, her eyesight poor, her spine curved, and she had to use a cane to walk.
She did not want to meet these men. She didn’t care who they were, what they looked like, or what type of men they were. It didn’t matter to her one iota. She’d lost her entire life to the Brethren because she was a
berezi
. Now she had her life back, and she had no intention of handing it over to anyone else for the same reason. If she knew what it was that made her
berezi
, she’d ask Doc to cut it out of her. It had been the bane of her life.
Her rising temper gave her the energy to stand up straight, grab the first outfit her hand touched in the closet, and get dressed. She slid her feet into her shoes, wrapped her long, white braid around her head and pinned it into place, then reached for her cane. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then opened her door and stepped out into the hall. She pulled her door shut, then headed for the living room, her step as firm as she could make it, all things considered. Her hands were shaking in spite of her best efforts to prevent it, but she clenched her jaw and kept walking. As she approached the end of the hall, and the doorway that opened into the living room, the low murmur of voices stopped, and she knew they’d heard her coming.
She paused again just before the doorway, took a firmer grip on the cane, and stepped into the room. Without conscious thought, her eyes immediately slid past Hope, Jackson, Rob and Clark, and zeroed in on the three Falcorans standing in the middle of the room.
They were tall, wiry men with dark brows, hooked noses and full lips that curved upward at the corners as though on the verge of a smile. Like all Clan Jasani, they were identical triplets. Almost. The Falcorans had different colored eyes, and a matching colored streak in their long, shiny black hair. One had violet eyes, and a violet streak in his hair just over his left eye. One had orange eyes, with an orange streak, and the third had golden eyes and a golden streak.
The one with the violet eyes stood slightly ahead of his brothers, and Berta assumed, correctly, that he was the eldest. She met his intense violet gaze calmly, and refused to look away.
“Berta Simms,” Jackson said, stepping up beside her, “please meet the Falcoran brothers, Merrick, Torrick, and Derrick.”
As Jackson spoke their names, they bowed, and Berta noted that Torrick was the second brother with orange eyes, and Jerrick was the youngest, with golden eyes.
“We are most pleased to meet you, Berta Simms,” Merrick said.
Berta’s hand tightened on her cane at the sound of Merrick’s voice. It made her feel...something. A longing that seemed to echo back through the long, lonely years of her life. A longing she did not want to know, remember, or feel again.
“I am
no
t pleased to meet the three of you,” she said. The shocked expressions on the faces of everyone in the room, except for Hope, almost made her smile. Yes, she thought, Hope understands. She saw where I spent my life when she was kidnapped on the mere suspicion that she might be a
berezi
, just as I was. Of course she understands.