Soul of a Predator

by Angela Verdenius

  Seen her writhing in agony, blood gushing from her mouth, saturating her clothing...

  He tightened his hold on her hand, loosening it almost immediately when she frowned in protest and moved uneasily.

  The Overlord had put her through a torture, the pain of which Shaque could only guess. She'd fought it, had been defiant, but she'd submitted.

  Submitted for him, just as he'd submitted for her.

  They'd both given their word to save each other.

  So what did that mean? They were enemies, with no emotional ties except that of unfinished business. Once he'd realized Tahlia wasn't his niece, he should have been able to turn his back on Elyse. It hadn't been fear for his own life that had made him agree to The Overlord's commands.

  It had been fear for Elyse.

  "I don't want you to die,” he whispered, looking at her frighteningly pale face on the white pillow.

  But she was dying right now. Every minute that passed was a step closer to death. The only thing that would save her life was the capture and killing of the woman Sarita.

  But would they find her in time? Just how long did Elyse have to live?

  Resting his head tiredly back against the backrest of the chair, Shaque closed his eyes and slid into troubled sleep.

  * * * *

  "Shaque."

  He looked around to see Elyse standing and looking out the space shield. Standing in the little kitchenette, she looked uneasy.

  "What is it?” he moved closer, tenderness filling him, wanting to hold her in his arms.

  "I don't feel well.” She turned to face him.

  He froze. Blood spilled from her nose. Blood crept from the corner of her mouth.

  She spread her arms and looked down at herself. Her stomach rippled beneath her shirt. Looking up, her horrified gaze met his. “Help me!"

  "Elyse!” He started forward, only to stop in petrified silence when her face started to split apart.

  She was screaming for him, screaming his name as her fingers tips spurted blood, ripping open as thicker, blunt fingers pushed through the flesh.

  "Help me! Help me! Help me!"

  Her shirt tore open as a heavier chest burst through the skin. Her neck lengthened, and she screamed in agony. Her skin split across her face and fell back to reveal a monstrous, mutant face, eyes glowing red hot and mouth agape, sharp teeth pushing ruthlessly through her gums.

  Her skin fell away, and in the bloody shreds of her skin and clothes stood a mutant. Big, breathing hard, drooling. It reached for Shaque, the glowing eyes burning.

  And then it opened its mouth, and he braced himself for the roar. What came out was so much worse.

  "Shaque.” Elyse's voice calling to him, crying. Big tears filled the glowing red eyes, dripped down the dull, red cheeks of the mutant. “Help me."

  And then the mutant exploded, blowing outwards, blood and organs flying, covering him...

  Drowning him...

  Total despair...

  "Elyse!” he screamed. “Elyse! Don't die! Don't die!"

  * * * *

  "Elyse!” he screamed. “Don't die! Don't die!"

  "Shhh. Shaque. Wake up."

  He opened his eyes, looking around wildly, to find himself in her cabin. His heart pounded, and he turned his head at the gentle pressure on his jaw.

  Kneeling upright on the bunk, Elyse made soothing sounds as she stroked his face. “It was just a dream, Shaque. Just a dream."

  "Oh, God.” Grabbing her, he hugged her fiercely to him. “Oh, God, Elyse!"

  She crooned softly in his ear, stroking his hair while she cradled his head to her breast and rocked him in her arms. Her heart was a steady, strong beat in his ear.

  Relief filled him, but so did grief. She was dying and he loved her so much.

  So very much.

  The tears in his eyes didn't fall, but a shudder wracked through him.

  "Rest with me,” she said softly. “Lie down and rest."

  He followed her urgings willingly, lying down beside her without letting her go. Dragging her hard against him, holding her so tightly, not wanting to let her go. Tucking her head beneath his chin, holding her fiercely, protectively.

  She didn't protest, just continued to speak softly to him.

  Closing his eyes brought the horrendous dream back to him, so he kept his eyes open. The familiarity of her cabin was welcome. He inhaled her scent, and glanced down to see her soft, silky hair beneath his chin.

  Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in her hair, and just inhaled her scent, over and over again.

  Gradually his pounding heart settled. His own screams faded in his mind as he became aware of the quiet sound of soothing music drifting through the corridor, lulling him. Between the warmth of Elyse safe in his arms, the normalcy of her cabin and the music, and her soft murmurings, he started to relax.

  Weariness stole upon him, his taut nerves unwinding as the sensation of Elyse's fingers massaging his scalp finally made itself felt. She nestled in closer and he sighed softly, finally letting himself completely relax.

  He didn't know when sleep finally claimed him, but this time it was dreamless.

  * * * *

  Coming awake slowly, he saw that the cabin had dimmed, the only light that cast by the glow ball on its tall, slim pedestal in the corner of the cabin. Its colours changed softly, the sparkles from it showering the corner in a glitter of colour that vanished quickly.

  How long had he slept? Elyse. His heart stuttered in fear, and he looked around to see her lying quietly beside him, her eyes blinking sleepily.

  "Shaque? Are you all right?” Coming up onto one elbow, she rubbed her eyes and looked at him again in concern.

  He didn't answer. His emotions wouldn't let him. All he wanted was to be close to her. Closer than they were now. He wanted to let her know how much he wanted her, how much he cared.

  How much he loved her.

  How he was so scared he'd lose her.

  And he couldn't find the words to say it.

  Instead, he rose up onto his own elbow, framed her cheek with one hand, and moved forward to press his lips to hers.

  He felt her surprise, saw it in her red-rimmed eyes when he drew back the smallest bit.

  When she opened her mouth to say something, he whispered, “Shhh,” and laid one finger against her lips.

  She stopped, her eyes watching him closely, all sleepiness fading.

  Shaque flicked the covers aside, uncaring that they dropped to the floor. He moved toward her, over her, gently forcing her to lower herself back onto the mattress.

  Bracing his arms either side of her, he came down carefully, using his elbows to support his weight once he was low enough.

  She watched him, the sparkles from the glow ball reflecting in the depths of her eyes, making them seem to sparkle with a life of their own.

  He looked his full of her face, her eyes, her small, straight nose, those plump lips and small, determined chin. Her high cheekbones. When he'd finished looking he placed his lips lightly against her temple and traced the same path his gaze had taken, only this time leaving her lips until last. When he finally came to them, they were already parted, and he kissed her gently.

  Tenderness, a heretofore unknown emotion to Shaque, filled him. He kissed her with that tenderness, sipping from her lips, sweeping in lightly to taste her essence.

  Leaving her lips, he moved down her throat, kissing softly, sucking lightly at the pulse that beat so strongly.

  Further down he went, sliding lower as his lips traced over her shoulders and down the slopes of her full breasts. Coming to her nipple, he nuzzled and then sucked gently in long, soft tugs that had her arching up beneath him, her cries a soft pant in the dimness of the room.

  The colours from the glow ball showered across her skin, and he closed his eyes, inhaling her delicious scent. Sweet spice. Trailing his lips across to her other breast, he sucked the nipple into the heat of his mouth, drawing long and slow on the hard bud.


  Her hands gripped his shoulders, then smoothed his skin, rubbing him.

  He glanced up to find her head arched back, baring her throat, and she moaned slightly.

  Leaving the swell of her breasts, Shaque moved lower, down her belly, nuzzling the dip of her belly button before trailing his lips lower still.

  His hips had already parted her thighs, and it was easy for him to move further down to the treasures hidden between the sheltering folds of her labia.

  "Bend your knees, baby,” he said hoarsely. “Let me taste you."

  She obeyed without question, slim legs bending, opening her to him.

  Sweet spice, stronger, clouding his senses, making heat coil low in his belly. Shaque inhaled again, and groaned deep in his throat. He parted the soft folds of her labia with his thumbs, opening her completely.

  She tasted as sweet as her scent, and he drew his tongue across her and shuddered at the deliciousness of her body. Unerringly he took the little hard bud between his lips and sucked gently.

  Elyse arched, her moan quivering through her body and spilling into the night.

  He tongued her, seeking to give her pleasure, to make her lose herself in ecstasy. Wanting to gift her with all he could, starting with this.

  Tracing the tip of his tongue down further, he pressed the roughness against her perineum, applying pressure. Her moan was more ragged, and her legs shifted restlessly.

  Firmly he gripped her hips, holding her still for his ministrations. The same tenderness filled him, but so did heat. There was no way he could taste her sweet spice and not be affected. But uppermost in his mind was the need to pleasure her before seeing to his own needs.

  Rasping his tongue gently up the perineum, he slid the tip into the opening of her body, finding her wet, ready, and he pushed deeper.

  "Shaque! Oh stars, Shaque!” She was panting now, his name coming almost on a sob.

  Drawing out his tongue, he pushed deep, drew out again, pushed deeper. He could feel her muscles convulsing around him, and he shifted, withdrawing his tongue, rasping the roughness up to her clitoris, taking the hard bud once more into his mouth and sucking in slow, strong pulls.

  At the same time, he slid a finger deep into her, thrusting gently, pushing a second finger in, then a third, twisting gently inside her, combining the twisting and pushing of his fingers with the strong, slow sucking of her clitoris.

  She exploded, coming with his name torn from her lips. He kept the climax going on and on, using his fingers and mouth, not letting her stop until she'd come twice more.

  When she finally subsided onto the mattress, her panting filling the air as she sucked deep lungfuls of air into her, he moved up her body and kissed her long and slow and deep.

  "Stay right there,” he ordered quietly, and rolled off her.

  Standing by the bunk, he kicked off his boots and shoved out of his pants. His staff rose thick and full, throbbing, brushing against his stomach.

  Without saying a word, Shaque swung himself back over Elyse, straddling her hips and sitting upright. Keeping his gaze locked on her luminous eyes, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. Pulling the tie from his hair, he let it fall loose around his shoulders.

  And then he lowered himself onto her, feeling her legs part to accept him, her hips cradling him.

  Bracing his elbows either side of her, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly.

  "I love you,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “What...?” Her moan as he entered her cut off her words.

  He stroked deep, slow, wanting the moment to last as long as he could. Heat rode him hard, the desire to pump into her his first instinct, but his need to be tender, to go slow, to worship her, pushed the urgency of his body away.

  Shaque did to her what he'd never done to another woman. He made love to her. Slow, gentle, sweet love, showering kisses on her, sipping at her lips, caressing her. Watching the flush mount in her cheeks, her eyes go from bright desire to hazy passion.

  He stroked her higher, sucking lightly on her throat when she exposed it by arching her head back.

  Long legs shifted to wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, deeper, and he knew he was so very close to coming himself. His staff was so thick, so swollen, the tip of him leaking into her hot channel.

  He could see she was on the verge of going over that pinnacle. Her panting cries were more urgent, music to his ears, a balm to his soul.

  Then she titled her head, looked up at him, and pleaded, “Come with me. Don't let me go alone. Not this time, Shaque."

  "Elyse.” Love filled him, flowed through him, and he said hoarsely, “I love you."

  She couldn't answer because her breath was taken away as he surged forward, his hips moving faster, carrying her higher and higher, pushing her to the edge.

  Shaque felt himself thundering toward the same pinnacle. Passion and lust combined rode him as he rode Elyse, pushing himself deep inside her hot sheath, letting himself finally go. Pumping his hips. Shifting his hands to capture hers, linking their fingers together, holding their joined hands down on the mattress on each side of her head.

  Her inner muscles convulsed, clenching around his manhood, squeezing him mercilessly. Seeking everything he had, milking at him, drawing and drawing until he exploded inside her, throwing his head back as her name escaped him in a harsh shout.

  His hips still pumped and her muscles still milked him. The climax went on, shattering around him, the sparkles from the glow ball seeming to shower into the climax.

  "Oh God. Elyse. Elyse!"

  He couldn't stop pumping into her, didn't want to stop, and he poured everything he had into her.

  He shattered again.

  He didn't know when he stopped. One minute he was pumping into her, the shattering climax overtaking him, and the next minute he was coming to with his face buried in the crook of her neck, their fingers still linked.

  They were both breathing hard, and silence filled the cabin as their breathing gradually slowed.

  As his heart beat returned to normal, the tenderness welled up, and lifting his head he gently pressed a kiss to her throat, and then lifted up higher so he could look down into her face.

  Her lips were red and slightly swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes, one brown, one blue, were luminous.

  "Shaque,” she said his name softly, her voice still a little ragged.

  "Elyse,” he replied, and kissed her gently.

  Rolling to the side, he took her with him, gathering her into his arms and cradling her close.

  The music still played softly, the glow ball sending soft colours showering over the wall.

  Closing his eyes, Shaque nuzzled his nose into her hair and breathed deep, filling his senses with her scent.

  Elyse nestled closer, sliding one arm beneath his to rest over his waist.

  Curled into each other, they fell asleep.

  When he next awoke, Elyse was gone.

  Thirteen

  Chewing on a mouthful of thick steak and sipping on an iron-enriched drink, Elyse contemplated the last twenty four hours. A lot had happened, and not much of it good. In fact, if she wasn't the resilient kind, she'd have broken down and bawled her eyes out.

  Being the resilient kind, she knew she needed to replace iron in her body from the blood loss she'd suffered at the not-so-kind hands of her ... donor. She took a sip of the iron drink. Now that had been a God-awful surprise.

  Cutting off another piece of the thick steak, she chewed thoughtfully.

  Even more of a surprise? Shaque making love to her so tenderly it still made a warm flush go through her. But what did he really feel? Was it just a reaction to the shock and pain she'd gone through, a reaction to the shocks he'd experienced?

  Time, she thought, would tell.

  A sound made her glance up to see Shaque standing in the doorway looking at her through cool eyes.

  And the time, it would seem, was coming sooner than sh
e'd thought. When she'd left him an hour ago, he'd been sleeping the sleep of the truly weary. Cuddled up to her, he'd only grunted when she'd slipped from his arms and out of the bunk. He'd been in the same position when she'd returned from her shower and dressed. Stark naked, lying on his belly, his tight backside just itching to be stroked, the strong lines of his back and legs mouth-watering, the muscles in his bent arms bunched. His skilled fingers, long and tantalizing, were hidden beneath the pillow.

  She'd resisted touching him, and had left the cabin instead to seek an iron-enriched breakfast. Still feeling the effects of the blood-loss, she'd gone to the kitchenette for food and drink.

  His gaze searched hers, and she chewed more slowly, lifting the glass to take another sip of the iron drink as her own gaze wandered over him.

  Damn, he looked yummy. There was only a sheet wrapped around him haphazardly, riding low on his hips, leaving his muscular chest to her appreciative eyes. Most of the sheet was bunched up in one hand, giving her a good view of his lean, strong legs. His sleep-tousled blonde hair lay around his shoulders in wild abandon.

  He gave a brief nod and walked away.

  Okay. She continued eating. He'd be back, she knew. There came the sound of a shower, and judging by the length of time he spent in there, he was enjoying it. Or had fallen back asleep. She smiled. No, not Shaque. Once awake, the man was awake.

  So, what did one say to a man who'd made love so tenderly during the night and claimed he loved her?

  Nothing, that was what one said. Absolutely nothing. Shaque might very well regret saying what he had said, and come to think of it, he might not remember saying anything. He'd been ... emotional. Dreaming that she'd die, which wasn't far from the truth, and then waking up next to her. Carried away by the moment.

  So how did she feel about his declaration, be it true or not? Elyse wasn't sure. Surprised, shocked ... wary. Did she feel anything back? She wasn't sure. She knew she hadn't wanted him to feel the same pain she had. And she wasn't so sure she wanted to kill him anymore, and that was a bigger shock.

  Life, she decided, was way too complicated lately.

  Pushing the empty plate aside, she leaned back in the chair and sipped at the drink.