Guardian

“Wait a minute.” Nick crossed his arms and glowered at Charlotte, utterly confused. “You’re saying I’ve got to give Riane some kind of blood transfusion?”

His mother shook her head. “No blood exchange is necessary. You’re the Guardian. You can simply create whatever cell structures she needs.”

He dropped his arms and recoiled. “I don’t think so. I have no idea how to do that. I know nothing about the human brain, much less whatever the hell hers is, with all that genetic engineering and computer stuff.”

“Oh, shut up,” he snapped, thoroughly annoyed. “You’re not seriously contemplating this, are you?”

Riane hesitated, considering the question, then shook her head. “Am I happy about it? Hell, no. But I’ve seen enough of these guys to know if they say to do something, you need to do it.”

Nick rubbed his knuckles along his jaw, eyeing her. “Aren’t you the one who went batshit when I suggested a simple mind link? Now they want me to do things to your brain, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, I know.” She stepped over to him and rested her hands on his chest as she looked up into his eyes. “Look, I’ve been watching you deal with some weird shit in the last couple of days. And if it’s weird by my standards, it should thoroughly freak out a man from the twenty-first century. But somehow, you’ve handled it all.”

“Well, yeah.” She smiled. “But you also manage to do whatever you need to do. Fight Her-Gla mercenaries, pass bloody tests conducted by nightmare Sela primitives, stick a knife through a Tevan’s combat armor. Whatever it is, you pull it off, every single time.”

“Nick, I trust you. Guardian, half-breed Xeran, twenty-first-century human. Whatever you are, whatever you have to do, you always deliver.”

“You’re in love with him.” Charlotte flushed as they turned to blink at her in surprise. She lifted her chin, almost defiantly. “That’s a good thing for a woman to know about her future son. That somebody will love him.”

“I’m not . . .” Riane began, only to stop, a stunned look on her face. She pivoted to stare at Nick.

He stared back, feeling his jaw drop. He swallowed. “I . . . still don’t know what I’m supposed to do. About the brain thing, I mean.” Lame, Nick. Really lame.

But what the hell was he supposed to say? I love you, too? Because he did. Maybe he’d loved her since he was fourteen years old. The idea of her, if nothing else.

Too bad she wouldn’t stay. And with him being this “Guardian” of the Sela—who, God knew, needed a Guardian, especially with the Xerans dedicating themselves to wiping them out—well, he couldn’t exactly go haring off to the future after her.

“I can show you what to do.” Charlotte paused, her lips twitching in amusement. “I mean, about the brain thing.”

Implication being that the issue of his love life was, all too obviously, as beyond her as it was him. Thanks, Ma.

“I . . . think this is the kind of thing that needs a little more privacy. In here, you two.” She climbed the steps to the camper trailer. The flimsy metal stairs creaked underfoot as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Nick followed, thinking it was going to be cramped with the three of them in that one half-rusted little camper . . .

But the minute he stepped through the doorway, he realized it could hold not only all three of them, but the entire lineup of the Carolina Panthers. The interior was huge, an airy, echoing space, all white curving walls that looked almost organic.

At one end lay a sprawling bed covered in a bright red spread and a tumble of sunny yellow pillows. A table stood beside an immense window that took up most of one wall, showing a view of the green spring woods beyond.

There wasn’t a straight line to be seen. Everything seemed to grow organically out of the floor—tables, chairs, even the sprawling, overstuffed cream couch.

“Is this some kind of illusion?” Riane demanded. Glancing over, Nick saw she looked as bewildered as he felt. “Or was the exterior the illusion?”

“All those boxy vehicles are part of your ship?” Riane began to circle the enormous room, running her fingertips along the table and the backs of chairs.

“I’ve seen mathematical theories that it’s possible to create folded spaces like this, but nobody’s actually figured out how to do it.” Riane sat down on the couch and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “This is amazing.”

“And the Victor would kill for the knowledge of how to do it, too. If He obtains it, or the other knowledge of the Sela . . . the Galactic Union will fall.” Charlotte tucked her hands into the back pockets of her pants, her expression brooding. “You have no idea what life would be like under a Xeran theocracy. I do. I grew up on that planet. My father taught me the Victor was God—mostly by beating belief into me. It was . . . hell.”

“My grandfather abused you?” Torn between horror at the idea and fascination at learning more about his mysterious mother, Nick moved closer.

Riane snorted and laced her fingers behind her head. “Any culture which throws away half its intelligence pool deserves exactly what it gets. No wonder Vardon kicked their asses.”

“Don’t underestimate the Victor, Riane. He is powerful, and He holds a grudge. If He gets his hands on the T’Lir . . .” She spread her hands. “Vardon will be His first target. You may count on it.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Riane’s expression turned brooding. “That’s one reason I’m willing to do this.”

“And since there is not much time, I should let you get to it.” Charlotte crossed to Nick and took his face between her hands. Mystified, he allowed her to pull his head down. Her mouth touched his forehead for a soft, maternal kiss.

He sucked in a breath as complex and alien knowledge swirled into his mind. Suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to know to make the changes he had to make. He could see the brain structure in his mind, vivid as a memory. It was so clear, so obvious.

But just as powerful as that knowledge was the realization that his mother was touching him for the first time since he was fourteen.

Abruptly this surreal experience became painfully real, and Nick caught her shoulders, instinctively trying to prolong the contact.

She closed her eyes, her face going still and grim. “I suspected as much. The expression on your face when you saw me the first time . . . You looked like you were seeing a ghost.”

“I love you.” There was so much he’d wanted to say to her. All those words seemed to pile up on his tongue now, choking him. He forced them out anyway. “You were . . . You will be an amazing mother. You taught me everything I needed to know about courage, about love. About protecting the helpless. The man I am I became because of you.” Running down, he added lamely, “I just wanted to tell you that.”

Before he could say anything more, she broke away from him and hurried to the door. He opened his mouth to call her back, but she had already slipped out and closed the door behind her.

“Fuck,” Nick muttered, suddenly furious with himself. “I shouldn’t have told her that she’s going to die. What a moron!”

Riane rose from the couch and walked over to drape one arm around his waist. “Everybody dies, babe. And the other things you told her were a hell of a lot more important.” She gently urged him around to face her. “I need to have one of those conversations with my mother.”

“Oh, we’re extremely close.” Riane’s expression turned thoughtful, and she shook her head. “Thing is, I tend to obsess over my father. What he thinks, what he’s done. But my mother has been every bit as important in shaping me, and I’ve never really told her that.” She forced a smile. “But we’ve got other fish to fry right now. Let’s go get started.”

“Uh. Sure.” Looking down into her rich chocolate eyes, Nick hoped his utter terror didn’t show on his face.