Heart Journey by Robin Owens Page B

mental voice. Is this the male littermate?
    Raz stared down, openmouthed, as a small white kitten tumbled into the room.
    “Yes!” Seratina said and swept up the young cat to cuddle next to her cheek, suddenly looking six years old.
    He kissed her cheek again. “Lovely woman, my sis.”
    She blinked at him. “Thank you.”
    I am pretty, too, said the kitten and Raz knew it was female.
    He studied her. “Very pretty.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “A superior cat for a superior woman.”
    A loud purr revved. I am a Fam. My sire is Zanth. My Dam is Drina, the Blackthorn Fam. She lifted a pink nose and gave him a little pointy-toothed smile, then curled her tongue in the way cats had of using their additional sense, as if tasting his exhalations, the atmosphere around him.
    Raz wanted a Fam. Now. Wanted the companionship. Wanted the caring, the love. No one in the theater had a Fam, not one of his friends. Actors were not high on the list of people to be matched with sentient animals.
    The door off the hallway opened and his father’s voice boomed out from his ResidenceDen. “Good doing business with you.” He was respectful and sounded as if he was bowing.
    “Here.” Seratina thrust the kitten at him and he took her, settled her along one arm and petted her with his fingers. Yes, he’d love a Fam. He thought of the fox. A fox wasn’t for him, nor was a puppy. A Fam who would amuse with its poses, its pride—a cat.
    He lifted the little one to his eye level, saw that her own eyes were a pale yellow shading into a pale green. Her little round stomach was cute. “Beautiful,” he crooned. She shut her eyes, her tiny tongue came out and swiped her whiskers, then she cracked her eyelids and said, I could have a treat. Just for being Me and beautiful .
    He laughed.
    “You want a kitten desperately, don’t you?” asked his sister, plucking the thought from his head as she could often do.
    He raised his brows, but before he could say anything, his father strode into the room.
    Followed by Del Elecampane.

Nine

    L ike you to meet my wife,” Raz’s father said.
    His mother swept up to him, smiled at him, then Del.
    “GrandLady Helena D’Elecampane, my wife, Emilia D’Cherry.”
    Del shook his mother’s hand and Raz could tell his mother had given the woman a limp hand. Both appeared a little surprised.
    “Del has skinned us on some maps of an additional pass through the Hard Rock Mountains.” Since he was rubbing his hands, Raz didn’t think his father was too upset at Del’s prices.
    She chuckled. “I think that I got the worst of that deal, T’Cherry.”
    Seratina hurried to the pair, a gleam in her eyes. “We got the maps.”
    “Yes,” his father said.
    His sister beamed, turned to Del, tried and failed to look solemn. “You really think the pass can be widened for regular airship traffic?”
    Del nodded. “With current and upcoming technology, yes.”
    “We need to get the right-of-way, better yet, the land,” his sister said.
    His father’s hand came down on his sister’s shoulder. “Already did, sweetheart, bought it when you left to greet your brother.” He gestured to Raz. “My son, Cerasus Cherry, the master actor.”
    Del smiled at him. “We’ve met. I admire his work.”
    Since Raz had wondered whether he’d imagined how strong the spark between them was, he gave his sister her kitten then held out both hands to Del.
    She looked surprised but put hers in them. When he closed his fingers over hers, the warmth, the desire was there, zipping between them. He was pleased to see a slight glaze come to her eyes, pink edge her cheeks under the golden tan of her skin.
    His mother made a small humming noise. Raz smiled and Del drew her hands away.
    His father’s bushy auburn brows lowered. He stared at Raz, at Del, a corner of his mouth quirked. “Stay for dinner.”
    Shaking her head, Del said, “No. It’s obviously a Family get-together and I won’t intrude.”
    “You’re