Sweet Starfire (Lost Colony #1)

Sweet Starfire (Lost Colony #1) Page 73

After dinner she settled herself against the wall of the safe-hold and cradled Severance’s head in her lap. Fingers wrapped around the grip of the pulser, she leaned back against the wall and wondered if she would be able to stay awake all night. Probably not. She was exhausted. She could only hope that the ring of safety would protect both herself and Severance during the times she was unable to keep her eyes open.

She slept off and on during the long night. Every time she awoke she could tell by the chronometer on Severance’s loop that she had only been napping for fifteen or twenty minutes, the usual screams and cries of the jungle went on all around the edge of the circle, but nothing encroached.

Severance slept soundly, pillowed in her lap. Cidra could tell that the fever had left his body. With any luck he would be feeling much better in the morning. She still wasn’t sure how long he would need to recover enough to risk the trip back to the campsite, but at least he was on the mend. If need be, they could spend another couple of days here in the circle.

Once or twice Cidra awakened during the night to discover Severance burrowing closer to her, his face turned into her midsection as if he sought comfort from her warmth. She wrinkled her nose as she caught her own unbathed scent. In the morning she would clean herself at the stream. Never in her life had she gone so long without a bath. She fantasized for quite a while about having unlimited access to one of Clementia’s elegant bathing rooms.

The night passed without incident. When dawn filtered once more through the green canopy, Cidra yawned and gently eased Severance’s head out of her lap. She left him sleeping while she undressed and knelt beside the sparkling stream. The water looked clear and pure, and she could no longer resist it.

The liquid felt wonderfully cool and bracing in the morning air. She even undid her frazzled braids and washed her hair in the bubbling stream. She arranged it loosely around her shoulders to dry in the sun. By the time she was finished, Cidra decided that she felt like a new woman. She put her trousers back on but decided to rinse out her shirt. Leaving it to dry on the green carpet, she picked up the pulser and walked to the edge of the circle to look for breakfast. Carefully she put herself into the trance that enabled her to become a hunter.

Severance yawned and stretched, distantly aware of an ache in his shoulder. He flexed it irritably and felt the pull of bandages. Slowly memory returned. He was stiff, and his head no longer felt nearly as comfortable as it had when he’d been sleeping in Cidra’s lap.

Cidra’s lap.

The thought opened his eyes. He saw the curving translucent wall rising above him, felt the green cushion under his back, and wondered how in a renegade’s hell he’d been so stupid as to let himself get used for target practice by a lockmouth.

Reluctantly he rolled onto his side, looking for Cidra. He saw her rise from the edge of the stream, her slender body nude from the waist up. Her sweetly curved br**sts looked perfect in the primitive morning light. The dark brown fire of her hair gleamed damply in the sun. Severance stared at her in silence, absorbing the sight of her, and then he winced at the direction of his thoughts. He was definitely feeling better, Severance decided.

He was about to speak when he saw Cidra bend down, scoop up the pulser, and walk to the edge of the circle. At first he thought she had seen something to alarm her, and then he saw her sink down into a cross-legged position. She went very still, her slender back elegantly straight. Before long, there was a flash of movement in the bushes. As calmly and coolly as a lifelong huntress she squeezed the trigger. A hopper flopped to the ground within easy reach.

Severance stared at the scene with a sense of shock that quickly changed to admiration. He sat up as she reached out of the circle to catch hold of the hopper by its ears.

“Is this the same lady who can’t look a torla steak in the eye?”

“Severance!” She whirled around, the hopper in one fist, and gazed at him in delight. For an instant, relief and-happiness lit her whole face, and then she remembered that she wasn’t wearing her shirt. A tide of pink flowed into her cheeks and throat. She dropped the hopper and made a dash for the damp garment she had left beside the stream. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she turned away from him to put on the wet shirt.

“Like I’ve been hit with a freight sled.”

She turned around as she finished fastening the shirt and peered at him. “You look much better. I’ve been very worried, Severance. You were quite feverish from the wound.”

He shrugged his injured shoulder, assessing the pain critically. “I think I’m going to live. How much time have we lost?”

“We’ve spent two nights here in the circle.” She came forward slowly. “Do you remember any of it?”

He smiled. “Some. You have a very nice lap.” He started to get to his feet. Something sharp on the ground dug into his leg. He reached down and picked up a small, jagged object. “Where did this come from?”

Cidra glanced at the scrap of shell. “Now that,” she said, “is a very interesting story.”

“You can tell it to me while I clean the hopper.”

Her eyes brightened. “Do you feel up to cleaning it? I can’t say I like the job.”

He grimaced. “How many have you cleaned?”

“Two.”

Severance shook his head wonderingly. “Incredible. You’ve become a real carnivore.”

She made a face. “I prefer not to think about it.”

He held out his hand. “I can handle the pulser again too. Maybe not quite as well as you seem to be doing, but it would make me feel useful.”

She glanced down at the weapon in her fingers. “I’ve grown used to having it around.”

Severance realized that her reluctance to give him the pulser was real. Gently he took it from her and examined the charge window. “How many shots did it take to get the first hopper? The charge is way down.”

“Oh,” she said easily, “I’ve been shooting a lot of things besides hoppers.”

Her words sent a distinct jolt through him. A fleeting glimpse of a nightmare cropped up from out of nowhere. There had been something evil and dangerous in his fevered dreams, something that had demanded his help. The image flickered and died, leaving behind an unpleasant taste.

“I think you’d better tell me what I’ve missed,” Severance said.

Chapter Sixteen

“Eggs, Severance. Those stones were some creature’s eggs. Really nasty little renegades too. The one you were clinging to tried to eat you alive the second it hatched. Don’t you remember anything at all about going back into the safehold to bring out one of the stones?”