The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga (2 page)

“Yes, and with purple skies too,” Nica replied, “And big dragons with dots on their
fur, but they were nice dragons.  Harriety Gess said dragons can’t have fur and they
can’t be nice, but I told her they were my dreams and I could make them nice and furry
if I want to.  That’s right, isn’t it
Mana
?”

“Yes, that’s just exactly right, Sweetie,” Honey replied.  Nica was so much like she’d
been as a child that it often amazed her.  But to the point where they shared the
same dreams?  “When I was a little girl, I dreamed of a place with lavender skies
and blue grass too,” she said. 

“You did?” Nica asked in wonder. “Did you dream of dotted dragons, too,
Mana
?”

“No, I didn’t dream of dotted dragons,” Honey admitted.  “Those are all yours.”  She
glanced over at Michael, who was smiling at both of them. 

“Is your aunt out there?” he asked.

Honey turned back to the window and saw a group of people standing near the edge of
the field beside a ground-car.  They were still too far away for her to see their
faces, but one was a woman with long dark hair, and the others were men. 

“If that woman with the dark hair is Berta, then yes, she’s there,” Honey said.  “I
don’t see any other women.”

“Those three men on the right with the bushy hair are the Vulpirans,” Michael said,
leaning over Nica to see out the window.  “How nice of them to come and meet our transport.”

Honey looked at the three men Michael pointed out, her heart beginning to race at
the sight of them though she had no idea why.  She could barely see them, but she
was positive she’d never met them.  She frowned.  She didn’t like things that were
out of the ordinary.  Her life had enough of that sort of thing as it was. 

She tore her eyes from the Vulpirans, resolving not to look at them again, and focused
on the other people standing with them.  Three men, all with long dark hair and the
young woman.  The transport touched down with a barely discernable bump, and Honey
released her safety belt before turning to release Nica’s.

“I’ll get the imp,” Michael said.  “You go on ahead.  That’s probably your aunt out
there.”

“Thanks,” Honey said with a smile as she left her seat and began walking up the aisle
toward the exit.  As she waited for the stairs to unfold and the door to open, she
realized that her hands were shaking and her palms were damp.  She wiped them on her
jeans and tried to tell herself there was no reason to get nervous.  She didn’t even
know for sure if that was her Aunt Berta standing out there or not.

Finally the door opened and she stepped out, her eyes going at once to the woman with
the dark curly hair who, she now saw, looked so much like Nica it was almost scary. 
Yes, that had to be Berta.  If it wasn’t, then she had more than one long lost relative. 
She started down the metal stairs, realizing that the other woman looked very much
like herself, as well.  The same petite, but curvy build, red lips that were a bit
too full, eyes a touch too large.  The main differences between them was coloring. 

Where Honey had straight golden brown hair and light blue eyes, Berta’s eyes were
dark blue and her hair black and curly.  Nica’s coloring was the same as Berta’s,
though her hair was straight, rather than curly.  In spite of these small differences,
the three of them looked so similar to one another that there could be no doubt that
they were related.  Honey couldn’t wait to see what Berta and Nica looked like side
by side.

“Honey, you forgot your bag,” Michael called down to her. 

She turned around and hurried back up, took her bag with a quick thanks, then went
back down the stairs to meet her aunt, who was now crossing the grassy airfield toward
her.  When Honey reached the bottom of the stairs Berta threw her arms around her
and hugged her tightly, which brought sudden tears to Honey’s eyes.  Until this moment,
she’d hadn’t let herself completely believe that she was no longer alone in the galaxy
in terms of blood relatives.  Except for Nica, of course.

“I know we’re related just by looking at you,” Berta said.  “I’m so happy to meet
you, Honey.  So happy to have real family.”

“I’m happy to meet you as well, Aunt Berta,” Honey said, swallowing around the lump
in her throat.  “I didn’t think I had any family left.  I could hardly believe it
when Aisling mentioned your name.  When she told me a little about you, I just knew
you had to be the Berta Simms I’d learned about as a child.”

“So I am,” Berta said.  “But let’s discuss all of that later.  Come and meet my Rami.”

Honey was glad that she’d learned about Clan Jasani from Aisling during their journey
from Earth, so she was neither confused nor surprised to learn that her great aunt
was mated to three nearly identical Jasani brothers.  Berta’s arm went around her
waist as she began to lead her toward the group of men still standing near the ground-car. 
Honey glanced back to check on Michael and Nica, relieved to see that they were just
behind her, then faced forward again as she walked side by side with Berta.  When
she glanced up at the men they were walking toward, a hot shiver ran through her at
her first good look at the three bushy haired men. 

They were not as tall as the dark haired men they were standing with, but they were
slightly broader in the shoulders and chests.  Their faces were narrow and almost
pointed, with high cheekbones, sharp, angular brows, and long noses.  Their hair was
long, very full and bushy.  One had black hair, one red, and one white.  The most
disconcerting thing about them was the intensity with which their pale yellow eyes
were fixed unwaveringly on her.

“Hello Vikter, Lance, Hunt,” Michael called from behind them.  Honey was relieved
when the men staring at her shifted their gazes to her husband.  She didn’t like the
way they’d been staring at her, but since they were the scientists who’d invited Michael
here, she would have to be nice to them.  This was a once in a life-time opportunity
for Michael, and he deserved her full support, no matter what.

In the brief moments it took for those thoughts to run through her mind, Berta stopped
in front of the three men standing beside the Vulpirans.  Honey expected her aunt
to begin introducing them since they were obviously her Rami, but they were all watching
Michael and the Vulpirans with wide eyes instead.

“Hello Michael,” the red haired Vulpiran said, reaching out to shake Michael’s hand
as he approached.  “This must be your daughter that you told us so much about.”

“Yes, this is my little angel, Monica,” Michael said.  “And this lovely lady is my
wife, Honor,” he added, taking one step forward and placing his arm around her shoulders. 
“Everyone calls her Honey.”

Honey’s breath caught in her throat as she actually
felt
shock explode within all three of the Vulpirans.  She looked straight at them before
she could stop herself and saw the stunned expressions in their eyes for just a second
before a veil came down, hiding their feelings.

“Honey,” Michael said, not noticing the Vulpiran’s reactions, “please meet the Vulpiran
brothers.  This is Consul Vikter, Lancer, and Hunter.”

Each of the men bowed briefly as Michael spoke his name, and Honey nodded in return. 
She noted that Vikter was the one with red hair, Lance had white hair, and Hunt had
black hair.

“We are pleased to meet you, Mrs. Davis,” Vikter said politely, though his expression
was stiff and his smile forced.  He turned to Michael.  “We must apologize for our
intrusion,” he said.  “We did not realize that your wife, and Arima Berta’s niece,
were one and the same.  We shall leave you to your reunion and contact you later,
if that is acceptable.”  Without waiting for a response from Michael, Vikter turned
to face Merrick Falcoran.  “I trust you have already arranged accommodations for your
niece and her family,” he said.

“Yes, Consul Vikter, we have, thank you,” Merrick replied.  “The Dracons were kind
enough to offer a guesthouse for their use.”

“Very good,” Vikter replied with a nod.  “We offer you the use of our ground-car,
since we brought it specifically for Dr. Davis and his family anyway.  We have no
further need for it this day.”  He looked back at Michael.  “Until tomorrow, Michael. 
We look forward to working with you.”

Michael watched in mild surprise as the Vulpirans turned and left before he had a
chance to say anything.

***

Vikter Vulpiran walked away from the airfield, his back straight, hands at his sides,
eyes forward, Lance and Hunt right behind him, following stiffly.  All three of them
were struggling with all of their will to maintain an outward appearance of calm. 
It was only due to their age and experience that they’d been able to hold on as long
as they had, but they were perilously close to the edge by the time they reached the
bottom of a low hill, blocking their sight of the airfield, and the people on it.

“Now,” Vikter growled even as he began shifting into his alter-form.  The word was
not completely out of his mouth before Lance and Hunt began to transform as well. 
Within seconds three huge creatures that vaguely resembled Earth foxes stood on the
blue grass, one red, one black and one white. 

The vulpins were about seven feet high at the shoulder, and sixteen feet long from
the tip of their long, narrow noses to the base of their thick bushy tails.  Their
tails were another six feet in length, giving them a long, almost sleek appearance. 
They had rather short legs for their size and, oddly, retractable claws, like a cat. 
The strangest thing about their appearance, however, were the thick, curving horns
set just behind their smallish, pointed ears. 

The vulpins stood where they’d transformed, their heads hanging, black noses almost
to the ground, sides heaving as though they’d run a great distance.  It wasn’t lack
of air that had them panting though.  It was the adrenaline spiked urge to race back
to the airfield and kill the puny human male who had stolen their Arima.

For a few, brief moments in time they had rejoiced in the knowledge that they had
finally found their Arima.  They drank her in with their eyes, memorizing each detail
of her face and figure as she walked down the stairs and greeted her aunt.  In those
few, never to be forgotten moments, their hearts claimed her as their own.  And then
their moment of wonder and joy exploded into a fiery cataclysm with two small words
from Michael Davis. 
My wife.

The vulpins were just beginning to calm when an errant gust of wind carried to them
the rare, exotic scent of night jasmine.  Vikter spun around and began racing in the
opposite direction, his paws barely touching the ground.  He knew that his brothers
were right behind him, Lancer on the right, Hunter on the left, as they always were,
though he neither saw nor heard them. 

His head felt too full to think, his emotions too sharp and tangled to sort through. 
So he focused on running, relieved that the Dracon Princes had such a large ranch,
and that so much of it was still empty of all but cows, horses, sheep and a healthy
population of rabbits and squirrels. 

Vikter had no idea how far they’d run before the second rush of adrenaline, caused
by that single faint whiff of their Arima, finally burned itself out.  He slowed his
pace, raising his head a bit as he looked around, taking notice of their surroundings
for the first time since leaving the airfield. 

“How are you two feeling?”
he asked his brothers.

“Better,”
Lance replied, while Hunt merely grunted.

“Are you ready to discuss this or should we run some more?”
Vikter asked.

“I don’t think it’s possible to run far enough or fast enough to escape this problem,”
Lance said. 

“I’m willing to try,”
Hunt growled.

Vikter slowed to a walk and looked around before leading Lance and Hunt to the top
of a low, grassy hill that would give them a clear vantage point for miles around. 
Once he reached the top he shifted back to his humanoid form and turned to face Lance
and Hunt.  Lance shifted, but Hunt walked a few feet away and then paced back before
raising his nose into the air and yipping several times, unable to contain his emotions.

“It is difficult for us too, Hunt,” Vikter said.  “Nevertheless, we must determine
how we are going to go on from here.”

Hunt stared at Vikter for a long moment, then shifted back to his humanoid form. 
“We should catch the next transport back to Berria and remain there until the Davis
family leaves Jasan,” he said as soon as he could speak.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Lance said. 

“If our honor were not at stake here, or the future of the Thousand Worlds, I would
race you back to the airfield,” Vikter said.  “Unfortunately, things are not that
simple.”

“How is our honor at stake?” Hunt demanded.  “I admit that ignoring Michael Davis
after inviting him here would be rude, but I do not see it as a matter of honor.”

Lance shook his head.  “I wish that I could agree with you, Hunt,” he said.  “But,
since we went to the Council with our request, and sent the invitation through formal
channels to Michael’s superiors, we cannot abandon him without it attracting a lot
of unpleasant attention no matter how much we wish to.”