Raised to Kill (Kindred Tales)

“Then…you don’t think she tried to kill me on purpose?” Brand, who only moments before had been sunk in the pits of despair, felt a wild hope rise in his heart.

“It’s possible…” Sylvan frowned. “What kind of shuttle were you flying, Brand—was it one of the newer ones?”

“I think so. Why?” Brand frowned.

“Because the newest long-range shuttles all have an auto-record function on their viewscreens,” Sylvan told him. “We might be able to go back and listen to the conversation Allara had with her father and her aunt and get a better picture of what happened and why it happened.”

“Let’s go right now!” Brand threw back the covers and got out of bed.

“Whoa, there! You just got over having one of your lungs popped like a balloon—you need to rest.” Olivia attempted to make him get back into bed, but Brand refused to budge.

“Don’t you see—I can’t rest!” he exclaimed. “If there’s a chance—any chance at all—that Allara didn’t try to kill me because she wanted to—that she still loves me the way I love her—I have to know!”

“You might as well let him go, Olivia,” Sylvan said. “At this point, I think it would be more detrimental to his health to force him to stay in bed. Once a Kindred warrior has given his heart to a female, he cannot rest until he is sure of her.”

“Well…” Olivia sighed. “I guess as long as you go with him…”

“I will,” Sylvan promised gravely. “Yipper and I were up all night working on him—I won’t let him spoil my handiwork, I promise.”

“Go on, then.” Olivia stopped trying to get Brand back to bed. “Just please, be careful.”

“I will,” Brand swore. “Come on,” he said to Sylvan. “Let’s go!”

If there was a reason why Allara had done what she did, he was determined to find it. He just prayed that the recording of her conversation with her father and aunt would make things clear.

Thirty-Eight

The vid recording did, indeed, clarify the situation. After watching the screen and seeing what Allara’s aunt and father said and listening to her replies, (which had also been recorded by the viewscreen, although only as an audio file), Brand collapsed back in the passenger seat of the shuttle, shaking his head.

“They triggered her—her aunt did, anyway,” he said.

“It seems so,” Sylvan sounded thoughtful. “The trigger word appears to have been ‘trab’. I wonder if that means anything in a different Q’ess dialect?”

“What it means is that my wife is innocent!” Brand exclaimed. “And she loves me! You heard her say it, Commander Sylvan—she told them she loved me and she didn’t want to kill me. She called me the man she loves!”

“She did, indeed.” Sylvan nodded gravely.

“She should never have been sent away.” Brand said. “She belongs here—with me.”

“I understand that you want to forgive her and take her back, Brand,” Sylvan said gently. “But I’m afraid the High Council might have something to say about a programmed assassin living aboard the Mother Ship.”

“Then we’ll live someplace else!” Brand said. “I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together. I love her, Commander! In fact, I’m going to go get her now—trade me seats!” he demanded.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sylvan frowned at him from the driver’s seat of the shuttle. “I understand you’re anxious to go to your wife, but we must do this through the proper channels. I will need to speak to the Q’ess authorities about getting her back and I’ll have to get permission from the High Council to allow her back aboard the Mother Ship. Not to mention the fact that I promised Olivia to keep an eye on you and not let you go running off until you’re completely healed.”

“But I feel better already!” Brand protested. “What if something is happening to her? What if they’re punishing or hurting her even now? I don’t have a bond with her yet, so I can’t tell. What if…” He swallowed hard, hearing a dry click in his throat. “What if she’s dead?”

Sylvan frowned.

“To use a common human phrase, Brand, ‘don’t borrow trouble.’ You come back to the Med Center so Olivia can check you out and give you a clean bill of health and I’ll make a call to the Q’ess authorities at once.”

Brand tried to control his impatience. He knew his commanding officer was right and that protocol had to be followed. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Allara was in danger somehow. He wanted desperately to go to her and save her—to protect her from whatever it was he was certain was threatening her.

“I can see by your face how much you want to go,” Sylvan remarked. He pressed the button that opened the shuttle’s door. “It’s the main reason I sat in the driver’s seat and let you sit in the passenger side.” He motioned towards the Docking Bay. “Come on, Brand—I promise I’ll be quick. You’ll have your mate back before you know it.”