Heart Journey by Robin Owens Page A

they had looked good together, like a study in athletic grace. Damn Johns. He’d nipped Del away from Raz just because they were competitors, but two minutes later was laughing with her. Yes, the hunt was on.
    Before the dullness of her absence from the party could set in, he’d received a couple of compliments on his work from people he’d admired, then an agent had hinted to him about a part in a new play by Amberose. Raz hadn’t been quite able to show simple casual interest, he’d pressed the man, who had smiled enigmatically, changed the subject, then slid away. Raz had seen him talking to Johns, who had gone as impassive as a rock face—a sign he was suppressing excitement. Another thing to compete for.
    Raz didn’t know which he wanted more, the woman or the part. He’d had another glass or two of springreen wine. Almost enough to affect his timing so that he remained too long. He liked to exit an event at the right time—leaving people behind charmed and wanting more of his company.
    But now he breathed the soft summer night air as he stood on the terrace above the side grassyard where about twenty gliders were parked in three rows.
    He inhaled the scent of full-blown roses trained over the terrace wall, and the heavy air made him yearn for one more whiff of Del’s scent. He glanced toward the gliders, grinned. He had his own, just like the wealthiest nobles, a gift from his Family, and he’d named her Cherry. She was parked at the far end of a row, a few feet before a tangle of forest.
    With three tuneful notes, he summoned her. Saw blurs of men tumble from his glider as she moved—someone had been on or in her! “Hey!” Raz shouted.
    “I told you these damn shields would take too long to breach. Should have just smashed it, searched, and run,” a low voice said, beginning to swear. The man should have known better than to talk in that pitch.
    “We had to disable the stun!” a smaller man said. He muttered something and the vehicle stopped, stands clicked down.
    Raz jumped over the low terrace wall, grunted as he hit the ground three meters below. The thieves weren’t running away. Noise of shattering glass came. Raz didn’t waste breath shouting.
    His glider was shrieking: “My virtue is threatened!” The old-time melodramatic phrase had seemed funny when he’d programmed the alarm, but now it fed his ire.
    The night of black and white was hazed with the red of his anger. Not this time. His home had been violated, his work area defiled, his property smashed. Putting some Flair into his leaps, he bounded down the rows of parked gliders to his vehicle.
    There were two people burglarizing Cherry. The smaller one was inside, rifling through her. He heard rips.
    Raz yelled as he hopped up on a large, old, Family glider parked close to his, jumped toward the large man with a flying kick to his head. The big guy got an arm up, threw Raz off balance. He landed, rolled, came up swinging.
    His knuckles connected with the man’s jaw and he grinned, hardly noticing the sting. The large guy swung back; Raz slid aside but caught a fist on his left shoulder that numbed his arm. He led with his right and got the man again. As the vandal stumbled back, Raz hooked a foot around his ankle and brought him down.
    More slashing noises behind him—the smaller guy! Raz whirled. “Open!” he yelled, realized the frame was bent too much for the door to rise. Reaching through the broken window, he grabbed at the other thief, caught fabric, and did some ripping of his own.
    He was yanked back and spun around by the big one. Raz jerked his head aside and the large man’s hand skimmed his temple, then he hit Raz in the stomach. He oofed out a breath, gasped, ignored the pain.
    “My virtue is threatened!” screamed Raz’s glider.
    “Hey!” someone yelled from the terrace—Johns. The sounds of footsteps running toward them and shouts from more people were mixed with other car alarms. “Back away, I have stun,”