Warrior's Pain (Cadi Warriors Book 4)(91)

“I think it’s her pet. Why am I not surprised you made friends with the vermin, Little Manx?”

“That’s strange. I didn’t know they hummed,” Aculus commented looking perplexed. “What else do you have hiding in that bag?”

Cyprian double checked his bag, to reassure himself no more creatures were hiding in it. He bypassed Riley’s underwear. Aculus didn’t need to know about the depraved souvenir he kept.

“I forgot about this,” Cyprian said as he lifted the holo-cast frame from his bag. “One of the merchants conned me into buying it.”

He pressed the button on the side, and an image of a single sun setting behind exotic green leafy trees appeared.

“I don’t recognize the planet,” Aculus commented.

Music began playing as the image changed. Cyprian instantly recognized the foreign sounds.

“It must be Earth. This is Riley’s music. I bet she took these images. She said she was a photographer before she was taken from her home-world,” Cyprian replied.

The general smiled at how he’d inadvertently acquired the item. Riley would be happy to have them.

“Her pictures seem to tell a story.”

“She is a talented craftsman.” Cyprian nodded in agreement

He squeezed Riley close, while they listened, and watched the scrolling scenes from Earth.

Most of Riley’s music was aggressive. However, there were some songs that were deeply expressive, much like the pictures she took. Humans poured a lot of emotion into their music. Cyprian admired their creativity. The craftsman on Cadi had dwindled during the war. Those who remained, created utilitarian objects, like furniture, that they decorated. Much of their songs were old traditional pieces, only sung at matings or burials. Cyprian used to enjoy singing the folk tunes, though that ceased when he began training under his sire.

As Cyprian debated what things would’ve been like if he’d pursued the life of a craftsman, a song captured his attention. The male sang out a desperate melody to the female he loved. A lump formed in Cyprian’s throat as he listened to the poignant ballad, while staring down at Riley.

Please come back to me, Little Manx.





Chapter 14. Awakening




Riley

Riley looked around, perplexed, wondering why she was sitting in the center of a dim movie theater. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how she wound up here. The last thing she recalled was the explosion.

The cinema was like the ones back home, with a large screen up ahead, and speakers lining the curtained walls. Riley turned to see the dozen rows behind her were empty, just like the ones up front. It was more than a little disconcerting. At least the red upholstered seat was warm and comfortable, as it molded to her back. In her lap was a tub of popcorn. Riley ran her finger over the container.

Riley focused on the screen, as the usual green preview slide appeared.

“On a blustery winter night in the heart of Boston,” the recognizable deep voice that narrated all action movie trailers reverberated through the speakers.

The image panned a two-story brownstone, then zoomed through a frosty pane on the casement window, to focus on a small parlor with gaudy floral wallpaper.

“What the hell is going on?” Riley blurted as she realized she was looking in on the last Christmas her family had spent together.

She was struck dumb seeing a scene from her youth flickering before her on the big screen.

I’m either dreaming or I died.

Onscreen her mother sat in a well-worn armchair drinking eggnog, which was more rum than nog. Meanwhile Jay kept sneaking off to smoke something that wasn’t tobacco, claiming it was rude to smoke in Pépère’s house. They all knew that was bullshit, since their grandfather smoked like a chimney. But no one said anything, not on Christmas.

“Ugh, I’ve seen this film before, and it’s not very good,” Riley commented at the rerun of her life.

Riley laughed as the scene panned to her. She was wearing her favorite vintage Joan Jett tee, torn jeans, and more eye make-up than was reasonable for a high schooler. People labeled her goth, but her style was probably a bit more punk, though she just liked what she liked.

“What a goofball.” Riley shook her head at herself.

Riley recalled how pissed she had been at her mother and brother. This was the first holiday they’d spent together in years and Pépère had worked hard to make sure there was something for everyone under the spindly fake Christmas tree.

“Here you go, Riley,” Pépère said with a Marlboro hanging from his mouth. “Now it’s not new, but I hope you like it.”

Oh, I forgot about this, Riley thought as she teared up.