Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Hunger's Harmattan by Unknown (best management books of all time TXT) 📗

LRC. He didregret however, not being able to take Perse Cean’s life himself. Her evil haddeserved more pain, more retribution, than an instantaneous flash of fire andexploding body parts.

Lowering his head, he let the water drumdown on his tired muscles. Tomorrow, he would once more set out on his quest tofind Riordan O’Shay and bring the bastard to justice. It was the one goal hehad set for himself that he would follow until one of them was dead—and he hadno intention of being the one to depart first.

His thick salt-and-pepper hair clinging tothe sides of his face, he straightened up and raked his hands through the soggymass. The scar on the side of his face tingled as it usually did when histhoughts turned murderous. Vaguely he heard the vid-com chime on and turned tolook out the glass side of the shower.

“Burgon?”

It was her sweet, melodic voice andhe quickly reached for the shower handles to stop the water. With his heart inhis throat, he opened the door and—not even thinking—hurried over to thescreen.

“Aye, dearling? Is something wrong?”

Her brown eyes lowered and he realized hewas standing before her stark naked.

“Nothing is wrong. You are well, Sir?”

“I am,” he said, and forced himself tostand still and not try to hide his bare body from her view. He wanted her tosee him. He wanted her to know what he could offer her.

She lifted her gaze and it seemed to burninto him as it wandered slowly over his flesh. She did not blush—she’d seen aman’s genitals before. Nor did she look away.

“Will you be leaving tomorrow in search foryour quarry?” she asked as she met his heated gaze.

“Aye,” he replied, and felt his heartracing.

“Then stay safe, milord, and hurry home,”she said. “May the Wind be at your back.”

“And at yours, dearling,” he whispered.

Then she was gone and the brightness andpeace that was slowly filtering back into his dark world fled with her.

Epilogue

Shanee had come to the conclusion that allmen were alike. None of them had ever outgrown his childhood and would revertto it at the most irritating times. Stubborn, obstinate, willful,inflexible—all were adjectives to describe a male’s inability to see reason.

“Ailyn…” she warned, her head tilted to oneside.

“No.”

“Ailyn…” she warned again.

“No.”

He was clinging to the bedpost and thethought went through her mind that she should tackle him, put his ass back inbed and tie him down, but the mulish pout on his lips was so comical she washaving a hard time not laughing.

“You are not supposed to be up,” shereminded him.

“I have to pee, Shanee,” he complained.

“I’ll hold the urinal…” she began, but hewas thrashing his head back and forth in denial.

“I want to pee in the toilet,” he said. “I willpee in the toilet and I’ll do it on my own. My piss is going in the toiletthis time!”

“Well, most of it anyway,” she mumbled.Like all women, she knew it was virtually impossible for a man to get all hisurine in the toilet.

“I am going into the bathroom,” hepronounced, and let go of the bedpost. He wobbled, staggered a bit but hemanaged to get into the bathroom without toppling over.

Shanee had to be content to straighten hiscovers, fluff his pillow and wait for him to come out so she could wipe up thefloor behind him. When he came back, he scrambled into the bed without beingtold to and turned over on his side.

“I’m ready,” he said.

She reached for the vac-syringe and quicklygave him his morning tenerse, wincing with him as the potent, fiery med courseddown the vein in his neck. She waited until he had turned over to his back andscooted up in the bed before adjusting the covers over him.

“I am so fucking tired of lying in thisbed,” he complained as he took the glass of Sustenance she had waiting for him.

“Another few days according to Tariq’sinstructions and you can be up and about,” she said. “Not today. Not tomorrow,but the day after.”

She watched him silently mimicking herwords before he drained the glass then held it out to her like the little boyof whom he so forcefully reminded her.

“Did Primä One give you your tenerse?” heasked.

“Primä Two did. I sent Primä One on anerrand.”

“Scaring the damned people in theneighborhood no doubt,” he grumbled.

Her lips twitched but she made no commentto his moody remark.

“Where are you going?” he asked as sheturned to leave.

“I have an appointment with General Strom,”she replied. “Primä Two will be here if you…”

“I’m not talking to that ’bot,” he snapped.“You tell him to stay the hell away from me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why areyou going to Command Central? What’s going on?”

“I’m taking a few months leave,” she said.

“You?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Why?”

“So we can go back to Theristes for awhile,” she replied. “I’d like to see Tariq and Bahiya, see how Jules is doingwith his ’bot.”

He seemed to relax. “Can’t you come liedown with me until I fall asleep?” he asked. The dose of tenerse also containeda bit of pairilis to help him rest. Already he was getting groggy.

“Just for a minute,” she said, and wentover to her side of the bed and climbed in, stretching out beside him.

He put his head on her shoulder and wasquiet for so long she thought he’d fallen to sleep but just as she started toget up, he said, “He wasn’t with her.”

Shanee frowned. “Who, ehemann?”

“Acklard,” he said. “He wasn’t with her onR-9 and he’s out there doing the gods only know what.”

She knew that preyed on his mind. He hadsuggested they ask Strom if they could be assigned to find Acklard and theother Ceannus, to put an end to their reign of potential terror.

“They’re still looking for Chiaroscuro,”she said. “When they find it, we’ll go after him.”

“And kill the bastard who hurt me,” hesaid, his voice muffled by the drug.

“Aye, and kill the bastard who hurt you.”

She heard his breathing slow and knew hewas asleep. She eased his head from her shoulder and bent over to kiss hisbrow.

He was such a handsome man and her