by Lyz Kelley
“A regeneration pod.” Raine bounded around the end of the bed. “But you know where one is.”
His expression told her he didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “We have them on the space station, but it wouldn’t make a difference. There’s no way I can get permission to transport you or your son. It just wouldn’t happen.”
The frown she’d been holding onto swept upward.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he said, in a tone resembling the sound of boiling water, “but stop.”
A commotion coming down the hall drew her attention. “Lacey. I’m glad you’re here. Waterman says there may be a regeneration thingy on a space station that can help Beck. Do you think we can open up a doorway? I need to get Beck on that ship.”
Lacey shook her head, her features crisp with intent. “It won’t work. We would need an anchor on the other side. Someone needs to establish the link. When we opened a door the last time, Frost and Joseph were the links we needed to create the connection. The only way to open a gate is if you are already on board.”
Raine brushed a hand over her son’s head, then slowly turned, her fists clenching with resolve. “Then I need a way to get aboard the ship. If the regeneration machine is the only way to save my son’s life, then I’m willing to take the chance.”
“Primitives are forbidden to set foot on the space station,” Waterman challenged her perfectly logical statement, “and there’s a death penalty for taking a primitive from their world.”
“I will strangle the next person who calls me a primitive, and be warned, I plan to use poison ivy.”
“Poison ivy?” Waterman’s brow quirked up.
Lacey walked toward Raine. “It’s a poisonous plant that gives you a painful rash. Nasty stuff. I wouldn’t use the word primitive again, if I were you.”
If Raine hadn’t been worried about Beck, she might have appreciated the eye-batting, ass-kicking grin on her best friend’s face.
“We need a plan,” Raine turned to Lacey. “Did the twins get what’s needed to fix Waterman’s ship?”
Lacey retrieved a small object from her pocket and held the metal part to the light. “It doesn’t look like much.”
“You’re right. It looks like a spark plug my dad used in his old Chevy Impala.”
“Makes sense. The converter essentially does the same job.” Frost added. “But I’m not sure the diamond will hold. The tip is broken off. I’m no engineer, but I think the rock should come to a sharp point.”
Raine held out her hand, and Lacey placed the diamond-bracketed component in her palm. Raine cupped the part between her hands. Seconds later the room sparked with energy that lasted only a few seconds. “There.” She extended her hand toward Waterman. “Will this work?”
The perfectly-shaped diamond startled a grunt out of Waterman. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“I used to believe I could manipulate anything organic, but apparently I can’t fix my s-son.”
The muscles in his jaw clenched and released. “For three generations, my family’s been charged with protecting our race. Our planet is unstable. Someday we might have to return to this planet. If we do, we will need to know how to counteract an energy pod exposure.”
“So is that a yes? You’ll help me?”
“If we have any chance of saving your son, we need to go now.”
For the first time in months, she had reason to smile.
She dared to hope.
Maybe this was the change Lacey had predicted.
She would grab hold of the opportunity with both hands. What choice did she have?
She just wished the solution didn’t require her to get on a spaceship and travel a hundred light years away.
What if she and Beck got there and couldn’t find a way back home?
Chapter Five
“Damn machines.” Myka snatched up a wrench.
“Need some help?”
Myka glanced over his shoulder at the Star Ranger. “If you can make the adjustments while I calibrate the converter, I’d appreciate the help.”
“I should be able to follow a few simple directions.”
Myka popped to his feet and handed Frost the tool bag, then swung around to take the control chair. He started the calibration sequence and turned back to his newly-found helper.
“How long have you been here, Frost?”
“A couple of years. I was chasing a fugitive. I didn’t plan on staying at the time, but things changed.”
“Seems to me you’re breaking a few interstellar laws by being here.”
“You would think, but after I met my Lacey and she created a black hole to come save my ass, I figured she was worthy of breaking a few rules. Besides, my daughter is worth the sacrifice, if you could call it a sacrifice.” Frost eyed him carefully. “But isn’t your race doing more than breaking a few rules?”
Myka’s eyes narrowed. “How do you calculate?”
“I came here to permanently remove a threat and prevent humans from dying. Your race is the threat. You can’t tell me that pod you’re here to retrieve is the only one. There have got to be more, and if there are, what are the odds of them leaking as well?”
“There are thousands of pods buried deep below the surface, and too many to remove.”
“My point. What if others get sick? This race has nothing to counteract the effects—nothing they have discovered yet, anyhow. Beck’s doctors know his cells are being altered, but don’t know how to reverse the effects.”
The computer beeped to alert Myka to the calibration results. He pointed, “A fraction to the left.”
Frost loosened, then rotated the converter before tightening the screws again. “Okay. Let’s try this again.”
Myka restarted the sequence while pondering Frost’s concerns. “I’m certain the leaders would call humans finding the energy infrastructure a calculated risk. They look like ordinary rocks.”
“But they aren’t ordinary, are they?” Frosts blue eyes turned paler, his breath icy. “And if Beck were your child?”
“I didn’t say I agree with their opinions. I said it’s probably what the leaders would say.”
Frost’s breath came out a crystal cloud. “So the interstellar directive to do no harm doesn’t apply when it’s inconvenient. Is that what I’m hearing?”
Myka’s gills vibrated to produce a low rumble. “I don’t like what you’re implying, Star Ranger.”
Frost’s mouth crooked into a smirk. “Mighty touchy, aren’t we, Waterman?”
Shame and fear for the people of this planet made Myka break out in a sweat.
The Iceman wasn’t wrong. His race had impacted the planet and its inhabitants. The impact was reversible, but only with the proper equipment—equipment the humans didn’t have and couldn’t access.
“Tell me this.” Frost straightened when the calibration sequence chirped all clear. “Is Raine also dying?”
Myka rounded on the ranger, no longer distracted.
“Thought so. She just began showing the signs this week. I don’t think she’s recognized the symptoms because she’d been so focused on Beck.” Getting to his feet, Frost added, “And you will do nothing to save your mate? I’ve seen the way you look at her and protect her. She’s your match, isn’t she?”
Myka grabbed the Ranger’s shirt. When Frost touched him, Myka’s skin instantly turned frostbite black.
“Shit.” Myka loosened his grip and wiggled his fingers to get the circulation to return.
“You want to go a couple of rounds, tadpole, I’m good. I haven’t had a good fight in a while. I miss hunting down greedy asswipes who are only in it for themselves.”
“I’m not greedy.” Myka’s anger welled while he continued to shake out his frostbitten hand. “And I get your point. But even if I could get her aboard the space station without being arrested,” or killed, “and I figured out how to get them regenerated—and, by the way, I have no idea if the process will work on
humans—I would still need to find a way to get them both back off the ship.”
“That’s not a problem. Once she’s there, she’ll be the link this community needs to open a gate. We just need a way to get a signal.”
“A signal. Right. And I suppose a couple dozen of you, armed with nothing but a bunch of brooms and vines, are ready to fight the hundred-plus on board.”
“I think you have underestimated what this group can do.”
“Maybe, but are you willing to sacrifice your life, Frostman?”
“I am. If saving my wife’s best friend and her son are at stake, count me in.”
The intensity in the frosty man’s voice was like a right uppercut, swift and painful. “You care about these people, even though they aren’t your true race.”
“They are good, honest people.” Frost surprised him by extending his hand, palm up, a universal symbol of friendship. “And so are you, Waterman, even if you are a tadpole.”
Myka smirked. “Yeah, being a nice guy tends to get my ass dumped into a cesspool of nastiness, but…” Myka extended his hand. “…I will do what I can to save them.” And avoid getting them all killed in the process.
Frost nodded and released his hand. “And I will do what I can to ease the burden here if you don’t succeed.”
The coil in Myka’s gut tightened.
He didn’t want to watch his mate or her son die.
His mate deserved to live a full life, with or without him.
Chapter Six
Raine tilted her head back to stare at the moon.
Her body ached. Her limbs weighed more than she could bear to carry. She must be tired. She swallowed back a wad of guilt.
If she hadn’t dug the well, Beck wouldn’t be sick, and she wouldn’t be leaving the only safe place she’d ever found.
Why hadn’t she spotted the energy source before digging?
She could have dug anywhere. Why there?
“Stop your fretting.” Lacey emerged from one of the long rows of corn and threw a wrap over her shoulders. “And lock down your shields before everyone starts sobbing. You didn’t know about the ancient energy source. None of us did. However, I’m surprised the UFO fanatics and alien theorists didn’t sniff them out before now.”
“Plus, ancient astronaut theorists have been poking around here for years.” Raine wrung her hands while she studied the alien ship. “Look at the pyramids and Stonehenge and the Easter Island statues. They’re all made from rock. What are the odds they have energy pods inside?”
“We can’t worry about saving the planet right now. We need to get you aboard that space station.”
“You’re right.” Raine crossed her arms against the chill in the night air. “I get the feeling we don’t have much time.”
“I told the sheriff about the energy grid.”
“Do you think it’s wise to involve others when we're not sure how to detect infrastructure lines? I wouldn’t want anyone else getting sick.”
“If there are more pods out there, the sheriff should know about them.”
Theo was very protective of Magic, especially since he found out he was a dragon, and fit in better than he ever imagined. With his newly found abilities, he added additional protection spells to the town to make sure unwanted visitors didn’t see any unusual activities.
Raine balled her hands into fists. “I brought Beck here to build a home, a place where he could be safe. When I stepped off that bus, I thought nothing could touch us here.”
Lacey dropped an arm around Raine’s shoulders. “Beck’s father will never find you. Boston is far away, and you were careful to cover your tracks.”
“He would have tipped off the government officials. We would have been imprisoned, or worse, if we hadn’t run.” She hugged Lacey closer. “Thank you for sheltering us and giving Beck and me a home. You’re like family.” She sniffed back the turmoil brewing in her heart. “Please watch Jonah and Joseph and the gnomes for signs of infection.”
“Myka has already checked them and says they’re clear.” Lacey glanced at the ship’s back hatch, then approached the ramp to see what the cussing was about. “Are you okay, Waterman?”
Waterman popped his head out of the engine hatch. “The engine’s working.” The whir of the motors was proof the startup sequence had begun. He came to a stop in front of her, still rubbing a silver substance off his hands.
The tingle crossing Raine’s skin and the vibration under her feet told her Lacey was right. A change was coming. Something big. The idea of change scared her. She preferred stable and predictable. She’d had enough drama in her twenty-eight years, and was more than happy to live a quiet, completely mundane existence.
Waterman walked down the ramp and stopped in front of her. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then if you are sure, I will protect you by claiming you as my beloved. You will need my protection once we are aboard the space station.”
She stumbled a few steps back. “I can protect myself and my son. I don’t need your protection.”
He hung his head, his reaction telling her something she refused to believe. He wasn’t going to take her and Beck with him.
“Then you will have to—”
“Okay.” She reached for his arm. “I’ll be your beloved—anything—as long as you get me onboard that ship.”
He studied her expression for too many seconds, until she’d almost lost hope, and then his strong hand rested against her waist. His other hand tipped up her chin. His liquid blue eyes held hers. His warm breath skipped across her skin. He hesitated only a moment before pressing his palm against her forehead and mumbling a whole lot of words she couldn’t understand before ending with, “you’re mine.”
You’re mine? The words made her shrink from his grasp.
Her mind whirled, trying to grasp what just happened. The translator spell didn’t seem to work. Very odd. Even odder, the words sounded like the rumble of waves crashing over rocks.
He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.
Her body went wonky. Her pulse sped up, then slowed down, then sped up again. Her arms and legs and chest tingled, then her cheeks heated. A raindrop hit her nose. Then another. And another. Then a thundercloud hovering just above Waterman’s head let loose and soaked them both.
He stepped out from under the little cloud.
“What the hell?” Waterman glowered at the small fluffball that had stopped dumping water. When he grasped her arm and stepped forward again, the cloud-water-tap turned back on. “What is this?”
She snatched her arm from his grasp. “You may protect me and my son, but I will not be owned by any man.”
Her fury quickly disintegrated when he squeegeed the water off his face. Her small chuckle scattered the burning desire his kiss triggered.
She hadn’t kissed a man in more years than she could remember. A handsome, incredibly yummy man at that. She had no doubt he would try kissing her again. Maybe she’d let him next time. The first was seriously scrumptious—minus the claiming bit—that “you’re mine” donkey dung had to go. Claim her? She wasn't a prize to be handed out for good behavior or...or...marksmanship.
Lacey appeared at her side. “Are you two finished making puddles? Frost says he needs help loading Beck into the medical pod.”
Beck. What was she thinking, to be standing in a field with this alien when her son was so sick?
“We are not finished with this conversation,” Waterman warned. “We’ll talk again once we’re on our way.”
Her mind cautioned run, but her heart shouted Beck. She had no choice but to go into outer space—to boldly go where she never imagined going before.
She’d never been a Star Trek fan. Beck was. Too bad he was comatose and wouldn’t be able to enjoy the trip.
Raine combed her fingers through her hair and twisted the long strands into a knot at the back of her head. She needed to be brave. Strong. Why was it she just wanted to s
it on the ground and cry?
She didn’t have time to fret.
Not now.
She needed to save Beck. Poor little Beck. He had his whole life ahead of him until she made a catastrophic mistake. Well, she wouldn’t make another one by getting twisted up about her claustrophobia, or getting involved with a handsome alien whose kiss made her feel like she was sitting in a meadow on a sunny spring day counting flower petals.
No. She wouldn’t be distracted.
Her broom floated into her hand. “Lacey, would you park my broom and watch Mandy for me?”
“Sure.” Lacey gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Just remember, if we don’t hear from you in a week—that’s enough time to get up there and back and a few days to do whatever you need to do—we’ll use you and Beck as an anchor to open a doorway. We’re coming to get you, signal or not.”
“Please stop worrying. I’m doing enough for everyone.” She tried to sound strong, but the words came out more like a whimper.
She fisted her hands and stalked up the ramp behind Frost as he and Waterman loaded Beck into the medical unit.
“Momma?” Beck called.
Raine squeezed between the two large men. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
“Are we going somewhere?”
She straightened his bangs and ran her knuckles down his cheek. “Waterman is giving us a ride in his spacecraft.”
“Cool.” Beck’s eyes flickered with interest for only a second before shutting again. She could tell he tried to smile, but his lips were so dry and cracked he couldn’t.
She stepped back to allow Waterman to activate the medical pod. The lid slowly descended. After the glass shield locked into place, the pod began filling with a white mist.
“What are you doing?” Raine flattened her palms against the top of the glass, then tried to open the lid.
Frost rested his palm on her shaking hands. “It’s liquid oxygen. Your son will be safer this way. The liquid will fill his lungs and lower his metabolism to a state of unconscious sleep.”
She released a fretful breath. “So he’ll sleep the whole trip.”