Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights III_ Patterns of Force - Michael Reaves [76]
Rhinann felt a shot of cold run from his horned head to the soles of his feet. “Are you sure?”
“That he’s gone or that he’s gone with the bota?”
“Both.”
“I’m sure, on both counts. It took him quite some time to screw up his courage to leave, judging from the trace smells he left behind.”
Rhinann snorted an involuntary arpeggio. “Why would he have to screw up his courage to leave? It’s staying here that’s dangerous.”
“Yes, but that’s the problem inherent in attachment. He’s in love with the Sullustan woman he just heard from—or at least he thinks he is—but he’s also loyal to I-Five … and Jax, too, when it comes to it. He loves them. He’s attached. He was at home with them—at least he was before I came along.” She smiled and shook her head. “That’s the problem with these so-serious species. They become attached to the things they love and never understand that if you lose one love object, you must simply find another.”
Rhinann tilted his head to one side. “Odd. I’d always thought of Zeltrons as beings of immense passion. Yet at the core, you’re quite bloodless, aren’t you?”
She didn’t seem insulted. “Not at all. But our passions are usually very immediate, and—” She sliced the last of the vegetation into the bowl and set down the knife, brushing her palms together to dust them free of residue. “—they are many.”
“Yet you seemed quite attached to your deceased partner. Or at least Jax imagines you were.”
The red eyes went out of focus for a moment and seemed to be staring at some point in space or time that Rhinann couldn’t see. “I was. Ves was a creator. He breathed out great pieces of art the way other beings breathe out carbon dioxide. It was exhilarating to be around him, to watch him work, play, whatever you want to call it. It’s also exhilarating to be around these Force slingers … when they’re not hiding out. I wish I could have been here while Jax was working with Kaj early this morning.” She shrugged. “But the Whiplash mission was pretty exciting, too …”
“You’re a thrill addict. Is that why you changed your mind about the Emperor’s assassination? Hungry to be in on a harrowing plot?”
“Now, that was insensitive.” Tuden Sal entered the room before Dejah could fire off a response that matched the look of annoyance on her lovely face. A pity, the Elomin thought. He enjoyed nettling her.
“I am simply grateful,” Sal continued, “that Dejah Duare has agreed to support my proposal.”
“Much good it will do you,” Rhinann said. “I suspect that, when Jax Pavan returns and finds you here, he will feel ambushed.”
Before he could continue, Dejah’s chin tilted up and a smile curved her lips. “He’s here,” she said and hurried to the living room.
Tuden Sal and Rhinann followed. “This should be interesting,” the Elomin said casually, but the emotions roiling in his breast were far from casual.
You can get out, he reminded himself before he started to hyperventilate. You can get out anytime you want.
As he entered the room, he saw to his surprise that Den was there as well.
Jax was both surprised and puzzled to find Tuden Sal and the others waiting for him when he walked in the door of the studio. He read the room quickly, noting that Rhinann and Den were arrayed at the rear of the group—separate from it in a way that it did not require a Jedi to interpret. The group had bisected along lines of conviction: I-Five’s point of view he knew, and Sal’s. Dejah …
He read her most carefully—the bright inquisitive eyes, the shimmer of agitation, the way her gaze darted from him to Sal. He saw the subtle threads now, too, as they reached out toward him. She was not simply exuding pheromones, she was willing them to affect him. How had he been so blind to them before?
“Where’s Kaj?” he asked I-Five.
“Dejah cooked him a meal. I expect that will occupy him for a while.