Heretic

by Cyndi Friberg

  Trying to relate it to something Sara already understood, Lily said, “Think of it as a second puberty. Their bodies receive hormones and genetic instructions that customize their bodies specifically for each other. This maximizes their chances of producing children and makes them even more appealing to each other.”

  “Oh boy!” one of the onlookers cried. “I’m not sure mine could be any more appealing than he is already.” Laughter and whispered comments rippled through the rapidly growing crowd.

  “Because their bodies are already changing,” Lily went on, not wanting them to lose sight of the original question. “We use the opportunity to engineer additional changes.” She started to explain that the targeted mutations created a genetic synchronization, radically decreasing the chances of rejection, then realized she was starting to sound like the database. “His DNA absorbs elements of hers and hers takes on elements of his. The changes are actually given to the female and she passes them to the male.”

  “That’s all well and good, but how will we free their magic without the Ghost Guide?” A slender young woman with short auburn hair and semi-hostile eyes pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “My sister is on the Triumphant and she told me it can’t be done without a guide.”

  Lily tensed. She’d fervently hoped none of these women had heard about the Ghost Guide. Myths could be dangerous when they disappointed their followers. “Your sister, like all the other volunteers, experienced a metaphysical realm that is unreachable to most humans. How does someone describe seeing a color no one else has ever seen? As instincts and impulses took over, they felt as if they were being guided by some unseen force. It’s not surprising that this compulsion was eventually personified. The ‘Ghost Guide’ is simply part of the transformation.”

  The petulant redhead didn’t look convinced. “For Jillian’s sake, I hope you’re right.”

  The crowd seemed reluctant to disperse, but Lily wasn’t sure what else to tell them. She gave Sara a quick hug. “I’ll let you know as soon as I learn anything new.”

  Arton took Lily by the hand and led her off the ship. The sun felt wonderful on her face and her steps slowed. He didn’t rush her. She tilted her head back and just soaked in the warmth and freedom. A gentle breeze stirred the trees and carried the scent of some exotic flower. She smiled. Wasn’t everything exotic on an alien planet?

  “That’s the second time it’s come up. Do we need to tell Kage about this Ghost Guide?” Arton asked once they started walking again.

  “It’s a myth,” she insisted. “It’s overwhelming for humans to experience the things Rodytes take for granted. Like yesterday when you showed me that creature in the woods. It’s still hard for me to believe those images were real, much less that you put them inside my mind.”

  “Karrons,” he muttered distractedly. “She called them karrons.”

  She picked her way through the trees, fallen leaves crunching beneath her shoes. There was no path to follow and she had no real destination in mind. She just needed to be outside for a while. “Still thinking about your mysterious elves?”

  “The vision was so intense. It’s hard to believe it was a random echo.”

  “Maybe the karrons just wanted us to stop calling them creatures.” When he didn’t return her smile, she sighed. His mood had been dark and distracted ever since Stront and Jillian refused to take his warnings seriously. “The battle born do an in-depth orientation with every female before she’s accepted into the program. It sounds like we need to work up something similar.”

  “I agree. I’ll mention it to Kage, but he’ll simply delegate it back to me, so I’ll start putting it together.” He finally looked at her. “It will give me something to do, other than watching you work.”

  “I don’t understand why the overlord is being so stubborn.”

  “If I’d marked you last night, it’s likely he would have disabled the bands. I still think his primary motivation is to ensure that we end up a couple.”

  The Rodyte sense of smell was much more sensitive than that of a human. And male Rodytes were even more sensitive than females. They could identify each other by scent and immediately know when a female belonged to someone else. So they “marked” their females with their scent, announcing to other males that she was taken. Lily understood the concept. The details of how it was done, however, she’d never explored. On the Triumphant, she’d remained completely focused on work to avoid thoughts of Jakkin. And since her capture, she’d been too busy fighting with Arton to think about mating rituals.

  If she asked Arton about it now, she was inviting a demonstration. The idea was tantalizing. However, now was not the time nor place. Rather than find herself bent over the nearest fallen tree, she let the subject drop. “I don’t know where I’m going. Can you get us back to the ship once my wanderlust runs its course?”

  “I think I can manage,” he said with a secretive smile.

  His ability to project his consciousness must come in handy in all sorts of situations.

  They hiked for a while in silence. Lily enjoyed the mild exercise, while Arton seemed lost in thought. An insect buzzed toward Lily’s face, so she quickly waved it away. “Can you communicate telepathically?”

  Most harbingers can.

  He slipped the thought into her mind so skillfully that it took her a moment to realize he hadn’t spoken the words out loud. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

  He shook his head. “Telepathy can’t be taught unless you’re born with the aptitude for it. If I reactivate the link I used yesterday, you could speak with me mind to mind. But it’s unlikely you’ll ever speak with others.”

  She shook her head. “There’s that brutal honesty again. You really don’t like sugarcoating anything, do you?”

  He brushed his knuckles against the side of her face while his gaze moved over her features. “You’re brilliant and accomplished, not to mention beautiful. Can’t you be satisfied with who you are?”

  The criticism stung yet flattered at the same time. It was very confusing. “Isn’t everyone obsessed with the things they can’t have?”

  “I’m obsessed with you.” He leaned down, clearly meaning to kiss her.

  She turned her face away, too annoyed to enjoy his antics. “For now. Once you’ve had me, the novelty will fade and you’ll move on to your next obsession.”

  His gaze narrowed and he put his hands on her hips, pulling her even closer. “You seem to know me so well. How many female ‘obsessions’ have there been in my life?”

  Tipping her head way back, she boldly met his gaze. “How old are you?”

  “How old do you think I am?”

  She shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with a Rodyte.”

  “That’s right. Rodytes have a longer lifespan than humans. We also age more slowly. I’m considerably older than you think I am. But my age wasn’t the issue. You made it sound as if I flit and flutter from one female to the next. How many males have you allowed into your bed?”

  She didn’t want to talk about her lovers. Only one had been important to her, and that relationship had ended horribly. The others were pleasant distractions, and she’d barely noticed when they moved on. “Four.” She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t press for details.

  “I’ve shared pleasure with three females. I don’t think either of us qualifies as promiscuous.”

  “I’m sorry.” She reached up and rested her hands on his chest. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “I’m not insulted. I’m frustrated by your opinion of me. You seem to doubt my interest, and I’m not sure why.” He raised one hand to her neck, curving his long fingers around her nape. “Have I failed to reveal how much I want you?”

  She lowered her gaze to his chin, unable to speak candidly while his intense eyes bore into hers. “I don’t doubt your desire. I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold your interest.”

  “Why?”

  How did he manage to expose all her vulnerabilities while k
eeping his carefully guarded? “It has happened before, four times before.” She paused, making sure the meaning sank in. “I can attract men with no problem, but they never stay interested for long. I’m too ‘absorbed in my work’, too ‘emotionally distant’.” She quoted the two most common complaints.

  “Then they are not truly committed to you. Any relationship takes effort and attention. If you found work more interesting than your male, he was not trying hard enough. These males were not worthy of you.”

  Heat swept through her with intoxicating force. She couldn’t decide whether to shiver or cry. Her body decided for her. Tears blurred her vision and her lips trembled. She stubbornly blinked away the moisture and licked her lips. “I wish we were compatible,” she whispered, unable to suppress the thought.

  “As do I.” The torment in his tone made her look into his eyes. He shifted his hand so he could stroke her lips with his thumb. “We cannot change our genetics, at least not enough to make us compatible. Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t love each other, and be happy with each other.”

  Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Did he just use the L word? She swallowed hard. “Do you love me?” her whispered question was barely audible, and her heart was beating so hard she could feel it all over her body.

  He laughed and the tension popped like a fragile soap bubble. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling for you. I’ve never felt like this before.”

  Boy, could she relate. “If the pull is even stronger than this, it’s no wonder the others can’t resist their potential mates.”

  Both his hands pushed into her hair and his mouth settled over hers. Her head was already back, but she tilted it to the side as well, finding a better angle for their mouths. His tongue teased her lips, darting and licking before surging forward to claim her taste. Then he filled her mouth and enflamed her senses with slow, deep strokes.

  She trembled as pulse after pulse of need assailed her body. She wanted this, wanted him more than anything past or present. He might not express it often, but he clearly cared for her more deeply than she’d realized. Her clothes felt oppressive and her skin felt tight. She wanted to be naked and filled with him.

  Anchoring her head with one hand, he skillfully opened the front of her uniform top with the other. He cupped one of her breasts and she sighed, needing the pressure of his warm palm. With both his hands occupied, hers were free to roam. She untucked his shirt and slipped her hands inside. His uniform was fitted, so there wasn’t much room until she followed his example and parted the front seam.

  “We have to stop,” he whispered against her parted lips, but his hand moved to her other breast and teased the nipple. “I don’t want our first time to be on the forest floor.”

  She quickly looked around and pointed to a rock formation about waist high and relatively level.

  He growled and ripped off his shirt, draping it over the rock before he drew her toward it. “Someone could find us,” he warned.

  “I don’t care.” She shrugged off her shirt and stood before him unashamed.

  “Gods, woman, are you trying to kill me?” But he snatched her shirt off the ground and spread it on top of his. Then he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the rock.

  She laughed, feeling rebellious and wonderfully naughty. “You should have taken my pants off first.”

  He glowered playfully. “This is why females are only allowed to wear dresses on Rodymia.”

  It had been the same on the battle born ships. “I was quite relieved when you guys disregarded that custom.”

  “It wasn’t by choice. The only garments we can mass produce are the standard uniforms.” Clearly bored with the topic, he pulled off her shoes and unfastened her pants.

  She lifted her hips, allowing him to pull her last garment off. Sunlight filtered through the trees, but it wasn’t half as hot as his gaze.

  “You are so beautiful.” He placed his hands on her knees and gently guided her legs apart.

  Heat crawled up her neck and spread across her face as he looked at her entire body. It wasn’t like she’d never been naked with a man before, but Arton was staring at her sex with obvious hunger. Excitement unfurled, fueled by her memory of Jillian and Stront. Was Arton remembering the scene? He knelt on the leaf-strew ground and she had her answer.

  His hands moved to the underside of her knees and he spread her thighs even wider. She leaned back, bracing herself against the shirt-covered rock. She watched him closely, unable to look away despite her slight embarrassment. His expression was so intense, so serious.

  He brushed one knee with his lips, and then the other. Tension coiled inside her, making her restless and hot. He continued his torturously slow ascent, alternating sides after only one kiss. Back and forth, higher and higher up her inner thighs. But when he finally reached his destination, he only pressed one kiss to her aching slit, then moved onto her belly.

  An exasperated sigh escaped her and he looked up into her eyes. “What’s the matter, love?”

  She shivered. There was that word again. “You’re teasing me.”

  “I thought females enjoyed being teased before the actual joining.”

  She dropped her head back and stared up at the sky. “You know damn well what you’re doing, or not doing.”

  “Say it,” he urged. “Tell me what you want.”

  She closed her eyes. “I want you to do what Stront was doing to Jillian.”

  “I’m sure he did all sorts of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  She never talked much during sex. Talking about the acts was more difficult than doing them in most cases. But Arton’s commanding tone—and the fact that he was camped out between her thighs—sent shivers down her spine. “I want your mouth on me.” He pressed his lips against her belly and playfully licked her skin. “Lower.” He moved down a millimeter and did it again. He knew she was embarrassed and apparently enjoyed her awkwardness. Stubbornness alone made her bold. “Push your tongue between my folds and find my clit.”

  He kissed his way back to her slit, then did exactly what she’d instructed and nothing else.

  “Please,” she cried. “Use your mouth to make me come.” It wouldn’t take much. She was teetering on the brink already.

  His mouth pressed in closer and his tongue finally moved, circling the cluster of nerves until she moaned. The tension wound, compressing the invisible coil. Her thighs shook and she rocked her hips, unable to remain still.

  The orgasm burst suddenly and she cried out. Hard spasms of sensation pulsed through her core, radiating out through her entire body. She came down slowly, breathless and dazed, but he didn’t raise his head. Instead, he shifted one of her legs to his shoulder so he could use his hand. He slipped two fingers into her core, triggering little aftershocks. Then his hand was sliding back and forth while his lips launched a new cycle of arousal.

  She seldom came more than once and the few times she had, it had taken forever. “Arton,” she tugged on his hair. “I want you inside me.”

  He ignored her, continuing the rhythmic slide of his fingers and careful suction of his lips. Left with no choice but surrender, she relaxed as best she could on a rock in the middle of a forest. He’d give up when he realized...but her body came alive again, responding as it never had before. The second orgasm built gradually, which made the sensations much more intense.

  She dropped her head back again and closed her eyes, concentrating on the staggering sensations. He suddenly shifted her other leg to his back as well and lifted her hips toward his mouth. Then his fingers pulled out and his tongue slid in. The utterly carnal act pushed her over the edge. She cried out again, shaking violently as the second wave crested. He kept the spasms rippling, drawing every last shudder from her before finally raising his head. His face was wet, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze bore into hers, silver phitons gleaming.

  “I think I could live on your taste alone.” He licked his lips to accent his claim.

  �
��You’re welcome to try. I’ll be happy to feed you anytime you like.”

  He grinned, apparently pleased by her boldness.

  With her legs still draped over his shoulders, he quickly unfastened his pants. Then he stood and her legs slipped down to the bend of his elbows.

  She pushed up against the rock, wanting to see all of him.

  “Shit,” he muttered, then quickly righted his pants. “Get dressed. There’s a problem with Jillian. As I feared, something went wrong.”

  Chapter Six

  Arton peered through the observation window and seethed. The medical personnel had allowed Lily into the chaotic treatment area. He, on the other hand, would have been in the way, so they relegated him to the waiting area. He watched Lily like a hawk, cringing each time she moved to the far side of the treatment table on which Jillian sprawled. He could feel the tether stretching, testing its limits, threatening to shock them both.

  He felt helpless and useless. What good was a harbinger when no one trusted his visions? Everyone expected irrefutable proof, not vague descriptions and supposition. But he couldn’t give more than he was given. Often his visions were more impression than detailed images. He occasionally misinterpreted what he was shown, but in the past two years, to his knowledge, he’d never been wrong.

  Kage stepped up beside him, inhaled deeply, then smiled. “I guess we don’t need these anymore.” And with a pulse of psychic energy, he deactivated the tether bands.

  “Gods be praised.” Arton ripped the offending band off his wrist and handed it to Kage. The overlord took it and tucked it into the pocket of his uniform pants. Lily was too busy to notice the change. She was deep in conversation with Dr. Foran.

  “So what went wrong, and why didn’t your power warn us.”

  “It did,” Arton snapped, angry all over again. “I warned them! They wouldn’t listen. Even Lily refused to back down. You’re the only one who takes my visions seriously.”

  “Silly them,” Kage said without humor. “I’ve benefited from your visions too often to brush them aside. Back to the original question. Do they know what went wrong?”