Miami Days and Truscan Read Online Free PDF Page B

black hair hung below his shoulders and the dark eyes, so dark they seemed black themselves, were startling against his pale complexion. A large amulet that held a gleaming black stone hung from a silver-colored chain around his neck, lying against the stark white of his shirt.
    He came forward and inclined his head toward Dalph. That surprised me; what, no bowing? Johnny was right; Truscans didn’t stand on a lot of ceremony. He spoke to Dalph in a low tone and I wished I could throw a switch and automatically understand the language. The man’s tone was courteous but then again, somehow, it wasn’t. There was an edge there, a veiled—a veiled what? Contempt. That was it. The ability to read people was vital in my line of work. I was good at it.
    As Dalph answered, I was taken off-guard by the look in his eyes as they focused on Dalph and turned to me. I didn’t think it was too far-fetched to assume he was asking who I was and where I came from. And I knew it wasn’t far-fetched to assume that this man was not one of Dalph’s biggest fans.
    Dalph turned and spoke to Johnny without answering, and Johnny pulled my hand.
    “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get you to your room.” He turned to one of the women. “Kiera, vitem.” She followed us, and I assumed she’d been summoned. I had heard “vite” before, several times, it meant “comes.” “Vitem”—come with me? Kiera must be her name. Maybe Truscan wouldn’t really be all that difficult.
    They led me out of the room and into a hall where we started up a large stone stairway that hugged the wall.
    “Johnny, who’s that man? He’s got to be somebody with some pull. But Dalph turned away and talked to you before he spoke to him.”
    “Very good,” Johnny drawled approvingly, turning me toward the left as we topped the stairway. “You notice little things. He is important,” he said, passing two doors and turning into a door on the right. “Madam, your chambers.”
    “Oh, Johnny!” It was a large bedroom with an elegant four poster bed covered with a dark green coverlet that reminded me of velvet. The windows were draped, not exactly curtained, with matching fabric, and the walls had hangings of forest scenes and garden flowers. Matching chairs of that beautiful glowing wood that seemed so prevalent here were perfectly placed, with cushions covered in dark fur. Another small fire was laid in the room’s fireplace, waiting to be lit.
    Then Johnny turned to the woman who’d accompanied us upstairs. She was at least five nine, but seemed small compared with most of the women I’d seen. She had braids of shiny chestnut hair pinned high on her head. Her face was oval, and had an expression of great sweetness.
    “Kiera!” he exclaimed, and held out his arms. She ran into them and he lifted her up slightly in the exuberance of his greeting. “Glad to see you, girl!”
    “And I you, my husband,” she said. English. God was good.
    He put her down, maintaining his arm around her waist, and turned to me. “This is my wife, Kiera. She’ll take good care of you. She speaks English, guess you noticed, and real good, too, went to a lot of trouble for me on that, thought I needed to be able to speak my own language in my own home, bless her heart. The Rata’s her territory; she runs it with an iron fist.”
    I hadn’t pictured Johnny with a wife, though I don’t know why, he’d been here for years. I was glad; she obviously thought he’d hung the moon.
    “Kiera, this young lady here is Teresa Ames. She uses Tess. She’s from my world. We saw her flying machine crash while we were near the border and got to her about ten minutes before the Prians did. So she’s feeling a little out of place. Know you ain’t about to let that last for long.”
    Kiera moved forward and pulled me into a big hug. “But of course not! You poor child! Lost in a new world and all these men!”
    “I guess it beats the Prians,” I said, somewhat taken aback at her