Lesserblood Lies

by Ainsley Davidson

Overview

To protect her children from the despotic Trueblood, Merianne defied them by taking her girls and fleeing the planet. Even though Merianne's daughters are Lesserblood, they have the Talents. The Trueblood would train her children to use their dangerous gifts, but their methods are cruel, and Merianne would never see her girls again.

Merianne tries to give her girls a safe, quiet life, but when they befriend Thorne, a brilliant scientist, she finds herself drawn to the kind and captivating man—despite his uncanny resemblance to the Trueblood.

Thorne wants to help the girls control their emerging Talents, and he's intrigued by their mother. But just as Merianne finally accepts Thorne's help, two of her children are seized. To rescue the girls, Merianne and Thorne must risk death at the hands of the Trueblood, who will kill to protect their lies.

Refreshed version of A Greater Art, newly revised by the author.

81,000 words

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781426892882
Publisher:	Carina Press
Publication date:	12/12/2011
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
File size:	1 MB

Read an Excerpt

Thorne's blue-gray metallic imager was beautiful. No rough edges marred the instrument. Even the magnet housing had no visible seams. But it was the pulse sequences and magnet, not the imager's clean lines, that allowed the freesearcher to see atoms and molecules.

Thorne's pale fingers danced over the sample trays as he started his work. The display above the console shimmered emerald. The probe had stopped moving, bound up at a negatively charged region. Thrilled, he watched the pulsing display. A hit! ProAgra was well on its way to designing yet another new and better herbicide to help feed a hungry universe.

Units passed. Thorne analyzed sample after sample. He considered taking a midmeal break but rejected it. He didn't want to stop. Not when almost every one of his herbicide samples was productive.

The alarm sounded. Someone was in the corridor outside his machine room. He ignored it. He wasn't expecting visitors. The alarm trill continued, followed by knocking. He tensed and switched the display screen view to corridor vid.

Three girls stood outside his machine room. The tallest girl smacked her palm against the doors. "Open up!" she cried in a high voice. "Please!"

Why were these children bothering him? A prank? Or were they in trouble? Nearly a thousand immigrants and five hundred compellees labored at the ProAgra Agricultural Experimental Station on Vuetha. Most of them worked to develop especially productive plant types and test new chemical herbicides. Planet Vuetha's isolation and self-sufficiency attracted refugees of all sorts.

The girl continued knocking. He stopped the data collection and removed the slender imager pin from the console, disabling the machine. A freesearcher could never be too cautious. Concealing the pin in his ring, he opened the doors.

Three little girls stared up at him, mouths open, looking startled. He frowned at them, hoping to scare them off. Why knock at his machine room door only to act surprised when he answered?

"What do you want?" he asked.

They continued to gape at him. He gaped back. The two older children looked nearly identical, except in size. Fair skin, striking blue eyes, space-black hair. The youngest girl was a toddler with sun-warmed skin. Her wavy black hair was streaked with brown and decorated with tiny bows. Gray eyes, rather than blue, twinkled up at him. A ragged cloth doll dangled from her chubby hand.

Finally the tallest girl spoke. "The sign above your door says 'I serve.'"

"Yes." Like all freesearchers, he took the credo seriously. He served his clients with scientific knowledge, with complete devotion and energy—until he left to serve someone else. "Why are you here?"

The middle child, who held a cloth bundle, said, "We want you to serve us."

These children assumed a freesearcher was some kind of universal concierge. He expected to feel annoyance, perhaps tinged with sour amusement. Instead, he was charmed.

Thorne bent to meet the oldest child's gaze head-on. "Do your parents know you're here?"

"No. Momma thinks we're on our way home from school. We need you to buy us something from Galaxies' End Universal Marketplace."

"We have valuables to give you in exchange," the bundle-clutcher added proudly.

Straightening, he regarded his odd little visitors. "Shouldn't your parents be buying things for you?"

"A present fo Momma," the toddler said.

"Yes, It's a surprise pesent, I mean present, for Momma," the older child said, nodding at the toddler. "To make Momma happy."

"A freesearcher normally serves knowledge," he said, "not little girls who happen by his machine room."