Prime Selection

by Monette Michaels

  “Joen?” Her voice was weak, a mere croak, practically soundless. She turned her blurred gaze toward the sky, obscured by the rain clouds. Had it only been minutes ago Joen had predicted the rain?

  A roar came from somewhere beyond her body. She recognized the sound as the Caradoc battle cry. Huw and Iolyn were near.

  Joen’s answering cry was music to her ears. He was alive.

  Assured she was now safe and rescue and medical attention were close at hand, she curled back into her ball. They’d done it. They’d survived. Finally she allowed the laser pistol to drop to the ground.

  “Nadia?” Joen grasped her hand and massaged it with gentle, trembling, and very hot fingers.

  She swallowed once then twice before she managed to croak out, “You okay?”

  “Yes, thanks to you. You Terran women sure are lethal.” He chuckled as he gently checked her head with his other hand. She winced and hissed. “Sorry. You have a nasty bump back there.”

  She laughed weakly and regretted it as nausea swirled within. “I know. Concussion.”

  Running feet came ever closer. “Cover me up. Don’t let H—uh, him see me like this. I don’t…”

  “Shh, Nadia.” Joen alternately growled and swore as he carefully, almost tenderly, checked her for other wounds. When he reached her exposed lower torso, his whole body stiffened and his growling crescendoed. He let loose a roar. Yet, his anger didn’t affect the gentleness with which he pulled up her trousers and fastened them.

  Something warm covered her trembling body and she realized he’d given her his jacket. Men always seemed to be giving her their clothing. She tried to say thank you, but her teeth chattered too much.

  “Huw’s a fool.” Joen paused and looked over his shoulder. “But he sure looks as if he would like to kill somebody—possibly me or his brother.”

  “Why?” Nadia scrunched her forehead and wished immediately she hadn’t. Even that small effort set her head to hammering.

  “Iolyn is visibly restraining Huw from coming over here. Lia just pointed her finger at all of them. She is warning them all off.” Joen chuckled. “My woman wants us all to herself before the crowd descends upon you and me.”

  His face lit up as Lia approached. “Lubha, you are all right?”

  “I’m fine, love. Move aside.” Lia looked Joen over carefully.

  Nadia could tell Joen wasn’t hurt too badly by the relieved look in the doctor’s eyes.

  “You’ll do for now.” Lia stroked a finger over his bruised and bloody face. “I’ll take care of your wounds later. Now go and help the others hold onto Huw for a while. We gals need some privacy.”

  “Yes, Lia love.” Joen got up.

  Lia took his place next to Nadia and began checking her over with gentle probing fingers. She swore upon discovering the lump on the back of Nadia’s head. “Joen, tell them we’ll need transport for Nadia. I want to get her to the Prime medica, stat.”

  “I’ll see to it, my gemate lubha. Thanks for covering my ass, Nadia.” Joen patted her good shoulder.

  “It’s what … what we do.” She ventured to lift her head to seek out Huw whose voice still called along their connection. She gave up when white dots and sickening waves of heat forced her to lie back and remain still.

  Carefully, she turned her head to the side and watched Joen approach the other men.

  Even that small movement proved to be too much. “Dizzy, Lia. Sick to my stomach.”

  “You took a good knock to the head and look as if you’ve gone ten rounds with an Antarean. So, yeah, I’d say you have every right to feel like crap.”

  Nadia laughed weakly—well, it sounded more like the croak of an anemic frog.

  “Such a genteel bedside manner.”

  “You want genteel, become a civilian.” Lia grimaced and muttered as she probed Nadia’s jawline. The doctor’s fingers were warm as they traced the places where her attacker had gripped her face. “Finger marks. Nail marks. The fucking lowlife, scum-sucking amoeba.”

  Nadia snickered and groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  Lia got into Nadia’s direct line of sight, concern etched in every line and angle of her face. “Iolyn and the others are losing the battle to contain Huw. So, before he comes storming over here, did the apayebo rape you?” The doctor’s tone was worried and angry.

  “Just fingers for a second or two—his lust … I used it as a distraction … had to get my weapon back. I killed him.”

  “Good. But we’ll give you something in case any semen entered you.”

  Nadia whispered, “Just fingers. No need.” She needed to close her eyes. Her vision went in and out and the pounding in her head was deafening.

  Lia stroked the bruises on Nadia’s jaw and shined a light in her eyes. “Regen bed for you, sweetie. Your pupils are constricted. You definitely have a concussion. And I want to make sure it’s not anything worse than that. So we’ll be scanning your brain. You also lost a lot of blood from the knife cut to your shoulder. How in the hell you stayed conscious to kill the son of a bitch I’ll never understand.”

  “Let me in.” Huw’s demanding voice held concern and something more. His energy preceded him like a warm, wooly blanket, enveloping her. It felt and smelled and tasted familiar.

  “Dakkin, you asshole.” Huw growled. “What were you doing while Nadia was getting beaten to a pulp?”

  Nadia gasped. Her eyes flared open to glare at the man whose connection undoubtedly had saved her life. But right now, she wanted to punch him. “Joen took out two men. I broke the leg of one, disabling him—and killed another. Two each.”

  She paused and gasped for breath. Lia grasped her hand and squeezed gently and shot Huw a nasty look.

  “Teamwork. We did our jobs. We covered Lia. Took out the enemy. So, shut the fuck up, Huw. You weren’t here. You know nothing.” Nadia closed her eyes and turned her sore head to the side. Her teeth chattered from anger and cold.

  “Jesus, Nadia.” Lia re-examined the lump on her skull; it felt as big as the Galanti under Lia’s small fingers. “It’s swollen worse than a few seconds ago. Where’s the medical transport? They coming by way of fricking Mars? I need a portable regen bed now! She’s got a possible skull fracture.”

  Huw knelt by her head. “Diew. Nadia … I’m sorry. I wish I’d been here.” He stroked a trembling finger over her bruised jaw.

  And a miracle occurred.

  His touch soothed her, more so than it had on Tarn just forty-eight standard hours ago. Her aches subsided as if they’d whirled down a preternatural drain.

  All of a sudden, she was sleepy. A warm, dark cloud of protective energy swaddled her within its strong masculine confines.

  As she lost consciousness, she had an epiphany—this last battle and Huw’s response to it fully confirmed her bond with him, mentally and emotionally. Only the physical connection remained to seal the trinity of mind-heart-body. But this bonding was an ass-backward Prime mating without the mark. In reality, it should’ve been impossible, but wasn’t.

  One thing she’d learned this evening—Huw cared, but he didn’t understand why; maybe he was afraid of his feelings. The bond was there, waiting to be completed—but Huw might never accept it.

  God, I’m so fucked.

  *

  “She’s unconscious! Do something, Lia.” Huw rubbed his thumb gingerly over Nadia’s bruised face and swollen lips. His anxious gaze checked out each and every mark, cut, and laser burn he could see under the dim light of the street lamp. “Did the bastard … was she … raped?” He choked at the thought.

  No one answered.

  Huw stroked a shaky hand down her body and noted the jacket covering her was not hers and her pants were not fastened properly. He’d never felt such anger before. If he could resurrect the apayebo and kill him again, he would. “Ansu bhau, Joen. Where were you when Nadia was being assaulted?”

  “Shut up, brother.” Iolyn’s voice came from behind him. “Nadia told you. They each
took out two. She held up her end of the battle. Don’t take her battle pride from her.”

  “So help me, Huw,” Joen said. “If you make her out to be a victim, I will beat you until you are a bloody heaping pile of flesh. Nadia is a true warrior. I am proud to have her as a fellow crew member.”

  Joen’s words struck Huw, shaming him.

  Diew, what was wrong with him? He didn’t want to hurt or insult Nadia, but it seemed that’s all he had been doing lately.

  Nadia had proven herself time and time again. She was a soldier—he knew that, respected that. So, why did he want to shield her from all harm? Why did he want to plant his fist in Joen’s face for touching her? And why did he want to carry her away and care for her himself?

  His gut gave him the answer. You care for her. He did, but there still might be a Prime female waiting for her gemat—and that gemat might be him. His honor demanded patience for a little while longer.

  Royce approached and knelt behind Huw and looked over his shoulder. “Shit, the bastard really did a number on her. Nadia’s a scrapper though. She regularly hands me my butt in hand-to-hand, but taking down two Prime hulking assholes … well, I’m damn proud of her.”

  “She should not have had to.” Huw couldn’t keep the words from escaping. His voice rumbled low, a growling tone he’d heard Wulf use around Mel when she was in danger or hurt. He controlled the sound, but couldn’t keep from adding, “She could have been killed.”

  “She wasn’t. So get over it.” Royce squeezed Huw’s shoulder, a painful grip that had him ready to lash out at the blunt Terran captain. “Besides, the only reason she left the restaurant was you. Nadia couldn’t stand listening to your dumbass arguments any longer so she left before we could leave as a group.”

  Huw winced. The truth hurt.

  Iolyn added, “Royce is correct. These four would never have attacked if we had left as a group. The attack proves the warning issued by the Alliance Military Command was accurate—the fanatics are targeting Terran women seen with Prime males. We’ll have to take additional precautions to protect our female soldiers.”

  Huw stroked Nadia’s cold, damp forehead. Touching her soothed him, and at some level he knew his touch soothed her. Whatever the psychic connection between them was, it was stronger each time they touched. It would be hard, but for honor’s sake, he would have to keep his distance from her until after the final destination on the Lost Ones’ mission. If there were no Lost One survivors, he’d begin his courtship of Nadia on the trip back to Cejuru Prime.

  If someone else doesn’t take her first.

  A primal snarl reverberated inside his head; the more primitive part of his brain didn’t like the idea of anyone touching Nadia but him.

  Diew, he was fucked as the Terrans said.

  “Mel and Wulf are on their way with the transport,” Joen said. “Lia, Kerr, and I will stay with Nadia. Someone needs to deal with the Home Guard. They’re here demanding answers. They’d probably take the report better from a Caradoc united front.”

  “Come on, brother. Let’s keep the locals away from Joen and Nadia. Mel and Wulf need to hear their report before the Guard. With two dead Prime soldiers in civilian clothes and two badly injured ones, there will be damage control to be done before the Elder Council hears about this incident.”

  Reluctantly, Huw left Nadia’s side. She moaned and grimaced as he stood and walked away.

  Why did it feel as if he’d had his heart torn from his chest? He rubbed the aching spot above the organ in question.

  Without looking back, he strode toward his brother who’d engaged the very angry local police. Each step tore the gaping wound in his soul wider.

  Chapter 13

  One standard hour later, on the Galanti in space dock Huw stalked into the reception area of Galanti’s Sick Bay and took a quick glance around. Mel sat along the wall, staring with some concern at Wulf who stood at the viewing window to the triage room. Anger and frustration poured off his brother in violent waves.

  “Why was Nadia brought here?” Huw asked Mel.

  “Wulf and I felt it necessary—safer.” Her demeanor radiated Wulf’s anger but was tinged with worry; the combination poured off her in crashing waves. “All Gold Squadron crews have been ordered back to the space station and their ships until further notice.”

  “Understood.” He left his sister-kin and joined his brother.

  Through the window, Huw observed Lia and Kerr working over Nadia’s pale, motionless body lying on the regen bed. Joen sat on a nearby treatment table, his wounds being seen to by a tech.

  Joen’s gaze never left Lia as she worked on Nadia with fierce concentration. Yeah, he could see it now. The others had read the Communications Officer correctly—Joen was involved with the little Terran doctor.

  “Why is Nadia so still? Why are both doctors still working on her? Diew! Lia told me Nadia would be fine.” Huw aimed an angry glance at his brother before heading toward the triage room’s door.

  Huw had only taken two steps when Wulf grabbed his arm and held him back. “Just stay put. Nadia has a skull fracture, deep knife wounds on her upper back and shoulder, a second-degree laser burn on her arm, a couple of broken ribs, and various internal injuries. The doctors are stabilizing her injuries and prepping her for several days of healing sleep in a regen bed.”

  “Ansu bhau.” Huw snarled and twisted away from his brother’s grip. “I’m going in there.” It was crazy and he had promised himself to stay away from her until after the mission—but everything in him needed to touch her, smell her, listen to her breathing.

  “No.” Wulf shoved him toward a chair. “Sit. That’s an order. The doctors don’t need you interrupting. Nadia doesn’t need it, either.”

  Sitting next to Huw, Wulf glared. “Now, what’s going on between you and Nadia?

  Royce said you insulted her and she left the bar with only Lia and Joen for escorts. Didn’t you get the orders about our female crew members being armed and escorted by at least one warrior-class soldier at all times while dirt-side?”

  “No. Plus, Joen is warrior-trained.” Huw hated the defensive tone in his voice, but couldn’t help it. His brother very rarely used the commanding officer card with his brothers. That he chose to do so for the second time within a week meant Wulf was positively pissed.

  “Joen is a Communications Officer.” Wulf sighed and ran fingers through his hair.

  “Diew, Huw. The man hadn’t had updates on his hand-to-hand and weapons training until these past few weeks. And he was never rated warrior-class, just warrior-trained. The fact he and Nadia held their own against those men—who were warrior-class—is a miracle.”

  “Wulf,” Mel touched her gemat’s arm, drawing his attention away from Huw and diminishing the tension between the two brothers at the same time. “Cut Huw some slack.”

  Wulf lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “You are right, lubha.” He turned toward Huw. “I am sorry I yelled, brother. But I’m concerned after the incidents on Tarn and this attack that the rebels have infiltrated more of our military than we’d previously thought.”

  “Which is why,” Mel turned to Huw, “we’ll move all training to the space station.

  Later, if we need on-planet training, we can use the Alliance military facilities at Tooh IV. Right now, we have one standard week to whip the merged crews of Gold into shape before we embark on the mission to find Lost Ones.”

  “The time table was moved up. Why?” Huw’s senses went on high alert. Had there been a sighting of some Lost Ones’ ships by the drones sent to check the routes and the planets?

  Wulf’s next words dashed that notion to pieces.

  “There have been attacks on two Alliance scientific teams in the Iota Persei system.

  We’ll be stopping and leaving a battle cruiser at each planet to assist with their protection.”

  “I am glad we’re leaving soon.” A combination of anticipation and pain swept through Huw. This trip would
end his turmoil; at the end, he would either have a Prime gemate or would be free to court Nadia. Not many knew, not even his family, but the only reason he’d followed his brothers into the military was the off chance he might find his mate while policing the galaxy.

  A sharp ache had him gasping. He stood and walked toward the window. “Nadia’s in pain. Why aren’t they giving her a bolus?” He turned to catch Mel and Wulf exchanging a pointed look. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me? Is Nadia dying?”

  “No, no. She’ll be fine.” Wulf grabbed Huw’s arm and stopped him once again from entering the treatment area. “Let’s find Iolyn and have a drink. We’ll ask Royce and the other captains to join us. We need to put together contingency plans in case the pirate activity in the Iota Persei system is worse than Alliance Military Command has heard.

  Melina will stay here and provide updates on Nadia. Okay?”

  It wasn’t okay. A primitive feeling in his gut urged him to stay and protect Nadia, but his higher-level reasoning told him she was safe among her crew. He would humor his brother for the time being.

  Later, he’d return and sit with her. Anyone telling him nay would get their face punched in.

  *

  Once Wulf and Huw had left, Mel entered the treatment room and approached Joen.

  “You okay?” She swept a hand down his tense back. He’d been cut several times, defensive wounds, and burned by a laser. Like Nadia, he looked as if he’d gone through hell.

  “Yeah.” He nodded toward the outer room. “Huw wanted in, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. Wulf convinced him it would do Nadia no good at this point for him to be here. They’re going to get a drink with Iolyn and the other captains and discuss the upcoming dual missions.”

  Joen nodded and his gaze traveled back to Lia as she hovered around the regen bed tending to Nadia. “You know I’m more than attracted to Lia?” His voice was pitched low so only Mel would hear.

  She nodded, but noted Lia’s head had jerked at Joen’s words as if she’d heard him clearly.

  “What you don’t know is—Lia and I are fully mated—in the Prime way.” He pulled up the hospital shirt and showed a marking over his heart. “Lia and I weren’t going to share this until she’d gotten some test results back from Dr. Martin. She sent our blood and tissue samples when she sent Huw and Nadia’s. No matter what the test results say, the markings are positive proof.”