Heart Journey by Robin Owens Page B

came from the Family glider Raz had hopped on.
    He kicked at the big guy, connected. The man fell back. Raz followed and pounded short jabs on the thief’s stomach.
    “Gotta go!” squeaked the man in the glider. He kicked Raz through the broken window, sent him into the big man’s fist. Pain shot from Raz’s cheek to rattle his brain.
    “No!” the first man said. “Get him and hold him. Play actor too damn much trouble. Who’da thought?”
    “Have a problem with actors?” Johns asked, grabbing the big guy from the back and throwing him aside.
    “I’m getting out of here,” the smaller one yelled.
    “Won’t get your gilt,” the big man snapped, panting. He slugged Raz on the left shoulder again. Raz punched with his right to the guy’s jaw.
    Yelling, the smaller man flung himself on them. They all went down. Raz’s head cracked against metal. He landed badly on Johns, whose breath escaped in a grunting whoof .
    “Gotcha!” The smaller man yanked at the larger, dragged him free, and they teleported away.
    “Uhhhn.” Raz sat up slowly, put a hand to his head. His lip was cut and bleeding and he thought his cheek was fractured.
    Johns lay flat and spit out words in short pants. “Sorry. Too late.” He groaned and it seemed to take all his breath.
    “You did fine.” Raz wiggled his jaw; it hurt, too. A dull throbbing came from his temple. “Many thanks, I’m grateful.”
    Sudden quiet descended, except for Raz’s glider. “My virtue has been violated,” Cherry said mournfully.

Seven

    D el took a long waterfall, letting the hot water roll over her. She liked real waterfalls, too, but they were invariably cold. So she hummed and did a slick wiggle to shake off the energy of others. There was something to be said for civilization, since it provided hot waterfalls and steaming bathing pools laced with lovely fragrances upon demand.
    After stretching to loosen muscles she hadn’t used lately but that had been put to the test when dancing, she hit the bedsponge and leaned against fat pillows propped against the headboard. Sighing in contentment she drifted into a meditative trance.
    First she thought of Helendula and her chest tightened. How could she love the child so quickly? Except to her, the little girl seemed to embody all the best traits of Del’s Family. Curiosity, happiness with what she was given, generosity, love.
    Just how generous and loving was Del herself?
    Loving and generous enough to walk away and leave Helendula with the Blackthorns?
    No. Not totally.
    Helendula was an Elecampane and should learn Elecampane traditions. In fact, Helendula was now Del’s Heir. This house and everything else would belong to Helendula if something happened to Del—and much of the Elecampane knowledge could be lost. Including the way to the HouseHeart and the small flame of sentience being born in that sacred space.
    Del hadn’t thought much about Elecampane traditions. Because G’Aunt Inula knew everything, more than Del. How much of her own heritage was lost now?
    Probably not a lot. Inula would have kept meticulous records and a Family journal off-site of her own home. She’d come to check this house once a week and would have updated a journal here.
    Del faced the question of selfishness. Did she really want to take care of Helendula, change her life for the child? A part of her echoed yes and she was pleased at the answer. She wasn’t totally selfish and self-absorbed then. She could change her life to fit Helendula into it, take shorter jobs or city jobs until Helendula could come with her . . .
    Despite herself, her life was changing. She’d have fought against it harder if she hadn’t had a child to think about. She hadn’t thought about having a child so soon.
    Part of her wanted Helendula, maybe even a stable base camp instead of complete freedom to wander the roads. Perhaps a nesting instinct was activated when HeartMates connected.
    Most of her wanted to continue as she had been,