CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3)

by Shae Mills

  “How much longer?”

  “Not long,” he whispered.

  Chelan looked into the blackness of his concealing shroud. “Make love to me, please.”

  Fremma moaned and instantly took her lips, hard. A tidal wave of sensation hit him, flooding him with need. All he wanted to do was drown in her wet silk, and he rolled her onto her back upon the soft moss.

  Then, as quickly as the passion had seized him, he tamped down its intensity. He needed these feelings to sustain him through the coming storm, and he quieted, taking her gently, reverently.

  Their time was slow and tender, but all too soon the early morning light began filtering down upon them. Fremma rolled reluctantly from her naked body and dressed. After covering her with her shroud, he reached for a small backpack.

  Chelan sat up. “Where did that come from?”

  Fremma smiled. “I did make some preparations for this, you know.”

  Chelan leaned forward. “What is in it?”

  Fremma undid the zipper and pulled out some clothing. “Here, put these on.”

  Chelan looked wide-eyed at the faded jeans and the pretty pink T-shirt. “Where did you get all this?”

  “You didn’t think I was going to release you in your uniform, did you?”

  “Well, no, but I didn’t expect this. Where did it come from?”

  “Dredon picked them up.”

  “Dredon? Dredon picked them up where?”

  Fremma chuckled. “I sent him out a few weeks ago in a high-speed fighter. He did a little research and came back with these. After all, he is intimately familiar with your measurements.”

  Chelan pinked a little, but smiled. “Wow,” she whispered.

  “I don’t have time to explain much, Chelan, but with a planet as primitive as Earth, infiltrating it for whatever we need is hardly a problem. Especially since we are basically the same species.”

  Chelan nodded and unrolled the jeans. She caught the small white panties as they dropped. “Man, he thought of everything.”

  Fremma sat still and watched as she stood and slipped into the panties. Next came the top, its fine weave hugging her body. Finally, the smooth, form-fitting jeans.

  Chelan squatted down and then stood. “After wearing your uniforms for so long, I forgot how uncomfortable and restricting denim could be.”

  Fremma shrugged. “They are the ‘in’ thing, or so I am told.” He dug back into the pack. Out came some white ankle socks, a pair of white runners, and a light sweater.

  Chelan sat down and put everything on. Then she looked at the pack. “Anything else?”

  Fremma reached for a watch and a small wallet. From the wallet he extracted numerous large bills. Chelan gasped. “Where did he get this?” She took the money and sifted through the well-used American notes.

  “I did not ask.”

  “He must have robbed a bank. There is a couple thousand here.”

  Fremma chuckled. “Maybe. He would be very good at that.”

  Chelan’s eyes shot to his, but she could see that he wasn’t being facetious.

  He cocked his head. “Well, you have to eat.”

  Chelan looked through the wallet. “My god, I have a credit card?”

  “I hear they come in handy.”

  Chelan gaped at him. “Is this tied to a bank account?”

  “Uh, yes, so I am told. I did not ask where, but we have a man very good at this type of thing.”

  “I bet you do,” she whispered.

  Fremma grinned. “Anyway, the payments on the card come out of the account automatically. Everything was set up a while ago, and transactions have already been made to establish a pattern. Your funds are sufficient and replenishable.”

  “Uh-huh. Replenishable how?”

  Fremma looked at her slyly. “We have our ways.”

  Chelan finally smiled. “Bank transfers from the dark side of the moon, I suppose.”

  Fremma laughed. “Something like that.” Then he presented her with the fine gold watch.

  Chelan took it and put it on. “And Dredon robbed a jewelry store too, no doubt.”

  “He could have.” Fremma smiled and peered inside the bag. “Not much more… Oh—a cellphone with plenty of paid time, and some toiletries, as you call them, brush, comb, some more shirts, another pair of jeans, some socks…”

  Chelan looked at him mischievously. “What about a bra?”

  Fremma frowned. “A what?”

  Chelan burst out laughing. Seeing the befuddled look on the normally unflappable supreme warrior tickled her. “Never mind. Dredon is good, but he slipped up on one aspect of women’s apparel. No matter. I shall rectify the situation soon.”

  Fremma could only stare at her for a moment until he once again focused on the matter at hand. “Now, we agreed on this location as you wanted time to adjust in a familiar area for which you are nostalgic. Since you are a ways from town, there is some water and food to tide you over on your journey.”

  Chelan nodded. “I did not want to burden you with the additional logistics surrounding landing a fighter in the middle of a populated area.”

  “It would not have been an issue. With the antireflective coating on the fighters and the fact that they make no sound at low speeds, I could have dipped in anywhere during the dead of night. But this does afford a private, peaceful sanctuary away from any prying eyes.”

  He hesitated. “Anyway, there is one last thing.” Fremma reached in and brought out two small bottles of tiny white pills.

  Chelan went to take them from him, but he did not release them to her. She looked at him playfully then noted his serious expression. Her heart stumbled.

  “Chelan, these are all you have in your possession that can link you to us. All else is of Earth. They are for your use only. Keep them hidden. Lie about them if you have to. There is nothing like them on your planet. If you feel threatened in any way by anyone or by any agency, dispose of them.”

  “But no one—”

  “No, Chelan!”

  Fremma’s terseness caused her to recoil.

  “Just like the accent we eradicated, these can be your downfall. I hesitate in giving them at all, and if Korba were here, he would probably forbid it.” His voice softened and his finger reached out to capture a small tear. “But I do not want you to suffer, my Lady. I want you to be as comfortable as possible. All I ask for is your caution in return.”

  Chelan sniffed. “I understand completely. I will be careful. But you scare me, Fremma.”

  “Oh, my pretty woman. That is not my intent. But look what happened to you simply because Ticees discovered these. Please, my Lady. You scare me. Your world has too many unknowns. Just keep them safe.”

  Chelan held out her trembling hands and Fremma passed her the pills. She gripped them tightly for a while as more tears threatened her deep brown eyes. “Oh, man, suddenly I want to go home.”

  Fremma looked down as he felt his heart wrenched from his chest. “Soon you will come home, Chelan. Only eight short Earth months.”

  Chelan dropped the pills and sagged into him. “I want to stay with you,” she pleaded.

  Fremma’s own eyes stung, and finally, the Warlord allowed his tears. “It will go quickly. And then we will have another six beautiful months together on RIBUS 7 before we reach Iceanea. Think only of that.”

  Chelan sat back on her heels, her chest rising and falling in irregular sobs. “I made a mistake, Fremma. Maybe I should have gone with Zane.”

  “No, no,” he soothed. “Coming here gave us an additional six months together already. And once you are with your family, your pain will ease. Just give it a chance.”

  Chelan nodded, knowing that he was right, but still she felt as though she would die without him.

  Fremma pushed to his knees and moved to her. He erased her tears from her face and then kissed her trembling lips. He looked down, and the words stuck in his throat. “I need to take your uniform.”

  Chelan sat very still, her h
ands clasped tightly in her lap. Her eyes wept silently as she watched him neatly fold the uniform and shroud. Then, on top of them, he placed her boots. Slowly, he picked up her knives.

  Chelan felt her soul wither just that much more. “You gave me those,” she blurted.

  Fremma looked at her through his own moist vision, her stricken features causing his throat to burn. “I know, my Lady, but they are alien.”

  Chelan peered up at the sky and then squeezed her eyes tight. “I have nothing from you to hang on to.”

  Fremma stared down at the two black blades and turned them slowly. They were made especially for her, and fit her hand so well. He struggled with his own raging thoughts and then made his decision. He could not risk it, and he placed them with her uniform.

  Chelan looked to him and raised her hands to her lips. Then she glanced down at the knives. “They saved my life in the Dead Zone.”

  Fremma let his head fall forward. Just like the time he had found Chelan in the workout area after she had seen him and Lena together, he felt physically ill. He slumped back against the tree. He looked up at the beautiful blue-gray sky and tried desperately to quell his deepening depression. Why was saying good-bye to her this time so painful? He squeezed his eyes tight. It was not the good-bye so much as the fear of the unknown. He knew that this could easily be their last time together, and that knowledge ripped through him, leaving him torn and bleeding once again.

  He suddenly focused on the strengthening morning light. He had to get going. And he had to go now. He stood abruptly, scaring Chelan to stillness. “I have to leave,” he uttered almost sternly.

  Chelan looked up at him as he donned his shroud. She scrambled to her feet, the intensity of the situation causing her to panic. She lunged at him, grabbing him to her with all her strength.

  Fremma was beside himself with grief, his eyes fierce, his thoughts in disarray. Instantly, he pushed her back against the tree, his mouth so hard on hers he tasted blood.

  But Chelan responded, her hands gripping his long hair and clenching him to her. He reached for her jeans and panties, and in a moment, they were down and off. Hooking his hands under her arms, he lifted her off the ground and pinned her with his body. Then he spread her legs wide on either side of him and released his erection. She gasped as his hardness pierced her, his need for bonding just as great as hers. She groaned, his powerful thrusts rocking her womb, the pain matching note for note her mental anguish. This was not lovemaking. It was their last frantic attempt to be one, and then nearly as quickly as he had taken her, he withdrew.

  The Warlord stepped back, allowing her to sag to the ground. He looked down at her, his chest heaving from exertion. “I will return,” he asserted hoarsely. “And you will be well.”

  He concealed himself in his pants and then wrenched on his helmet. He scooped up her belongings, and without speaking another word, he vaulted into the fighter and closed the cockpit.

  Chelan was stunned. It was as though the ground beneath her feet had just given way. Her lips bled but she could not will herself to touch them. She watched as the ebony bird of prey moved silently from the trees and out over the lake. It rose slowly into the sky before pointing its nose toward the heavens. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, it disappeared in the blink of an eye.

  Chelan felt dazed, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. She raised her fingers to her lips, and she tasted their shared blood, savoring the last of his body that he had given her. Then she glanced down at herself and touched her swollen femininity. She ached, and it gave her solace. The pain was from him, and she knew it was something she could at least hold on to for a little bit longer.

  She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The rustling of the leaves finally shook her back to the task at hand, and she looked to her discarded clothes. Slowly, she pulled on the panties and then the jeans, the insignificant effort seeming to exhaust her. Her mind pinwheeled. It was though he had never been there. It was as though he had never existed.

  She peered at the pack and the little white pills where she had dropped them. She moved to her knees and put them away. Then she faltered. She reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, drawing it up to her face, and winced. He had not been a figment of her imagination. His lingering scent ripped through her, shredding the last of her emotions.

  Suddenly, she jumped to her feet and ran out into the clearing, clutching her hands to her breasts. She looked to the sky frantically. “Fremma!” she screamed. “Take me away!”

  Then she fell to the ground, her body vanquished. He was gone. And she was alone—more alone than she had ever been before in her life.

  Chapter 12

  It was midmorning before Chelan could rouse herself. It was a struggle just to complete the simple act of sitting up. She was still in shock. She had been with the Empire for so long that she had fully integrated into it. Iceanea and RIBUS 7 were her homes. Korba was her mate, and Fremma her lover and guardian. Earth was now an alien planet, its cultures and peoples hostile. And what made her all-consuming depression worse was that it had been her sole decision to return home in the first place. She had not been forced or abandoned. There was no one to blame but herself for her self-inflicted stint into purgatory.

  Chelan wiped her tangled hair from her face and then set about the task of pulling dead needles and grass from her silky locks. When she was satisfied with the results of her temporary preoccupation, she staggered to her feet and stretched her weary body. She looked around to orient herself and then moved over to her backpack. Hastily, she shoved everything inside and then tucked her wallet into her back pocket.

  She stood still, her eyes closed, her thoughts calming. She took a deep breath, trying to reacquaint herself with the smells and sounds of Earth. Opening her eyes, she looked to the base of the large fir tree, the scant foliage still crushed in silent testimony to the love that was exchanged there only a short few hours ago.

  She shivered and ran her hands down her neck and over her breasts, wishing all the time that it was Fremma who touched her, his hard body washing over her, shielding her from hurt and pain. But her body did not respond. Her flesh was numb.

  Chelan set her jaw. She had to get herself together. She had to do it soon before she withered up inside and died. She stooped and picked up the pack, swinging it heavily over her shoulder. Then she glanced at the tranquil lake off in the distance, but its beauty provided little solace to her all-consuming grief. She had wanted to be dropped here where she had made so many fond memories, but at the moment, everything was lost on her. This was not how she had imagined her first few hours back on her home planet would be, and she felt almost disoriented… hopelessly adrift.

  She took another deep breath and tried to bolster herself for what was to come. She must think only of her reunion with her family and all the joy that was about to wash over them—well, of course, after the shock of her reappearance wore off. Hopefully, there would be only happiness, not anger.

  She stared at the area in front of her. She knew that there was a small trail below and to her left and that it would bring her to the other end of the lake. From there, about ten kilometers of dirt road separated her from the highway leading to her town. It was time to begin her trek.

  The walk along the trail didn’t take long, and although the scenery along the way was beautiful, she hardly noticed. Once on the road she kept to the edges, the trees sheltering her sensitive white skin from the rays of the midday sun. Though the official start to the fall season was almost upon her, she could still feel the heat generated by her planet’s lone star, the warmth as alien to her as her surroundings.

  The walk was far from physically strenuous for the young woman, but as she reached the highway she was exhausted. She sat down in the bushes just out of sight of passing motorists and watched the vehicles as they roared past her. Archaic mode of transportation, she noted to herself. Obviously, over the time she had been away, nothing much had changed. The vehicles were still loud and
smelly, the atmosphere suffering the consequences of the nonstop onslaught from millions of internal combustion engines. If only the people of Earth knew what she did.

  Taking a few seconds to relax, she opened her pack and took out a bottle of water. After a long draw, she felt mildly rejuvenated. Then she reached in again and drew out the granola bars, and she smiled. Earth food. She opened one package and took her first bite. Despite her dour mood, the sweet and salty taste was utterly divine, and she savored the bar slowly. Once she’d finished, reality set in once more.

  Shaking her head clear, she stood and started toward town again. Time was simply a blur as she hiked along, her thoughts still rooted in the Empire. She furrowed her brow. She needed to adjust to her new surroundings. She needed to concentrate. She needed to be of Earth once again. And whatever happened, she simply could not screw up.

  Placing one foot in front of the other was about all she could manage until she found herself staring at the outskirts of her previous world. She licked her parched lips, the burn from Fremma’s hard kiss unexpectedly reminding her of the black-haired Warlord’s love, and her eyes pricked. She panted for air momentarily and tried to clear her vision. Then she set her mind on the problem at hand. She needed to reconnect and reintegrate.

  Squinting against the bright sun, she spotted the old convenience store that welcomed the incoming traffic. She stopped to look for cars and waited patiently for an oncoming truck to pass. It slowed unnecessarily as it approached her, and Chelan cursed under her breath.

  A man leered out the window. “Hey, baby. What part of town you from?”

  Chelan gave him a strained smile. “Not yours,” she mumbled to herself as she began her crossing. She watched as the vehicle proceeded slowly down the road, the two passengers gawking at her out the back window. Chelan shook her head hard as if to dislodge unseen lice.