Alien Breeder

by Honey Phillips

  “No. Please.” The strain in his voice tore at her heart. He sounded as uncertain as he had been at the beginning. So much of the progress they had made had been destroyed. Part of her would gladly have seen her former mother-in-law in hell, although the other part knew only too well how much grief could destroy a person.

  “All right, my love.” She turned her hand over to clasp his. “Not until you’re ready.”

  He shuddered and pulled her close. Sensing that he needed comfort rather than seduction, she simply tucked her head into his neck and stroked his chest over the thin cloth of his uniform. Her eyes caught on his tattoos and she traced one with a curious finger.

  “You never did tell me what these meant.” The intricate designs seemed somehow familiar, but the symbols were unrecognizable.

  “They are memories.”

  “Memories?”

  “Of you.” He moved her finger to a set of intricate symbols. “This is your name in Yehrin.” A floral design. “The flower that you gave me when we walked by the lake.” An odd shape that she suddenly recognized as a type of skull. “The enemies I would kill to return to you.”

  He kept tracing the symbol with her hand. “But it did not work. They might not have killed me, but they destroyed me just the same.”

  “No, they didn’t,” she said fiercely. “You did return to me and you are still the male I love.”

  “S’rah.” He cupped her cheek, his eyes glowing a soft gold, but his face still drawn and tense. “It is not that I do not lo—”

  The monitor sounded. A second later she was in the chair alone and he was crouched over the monitor screen.

  “A male approaches.” He was pale and sweating and his hand hovered near his blast tube.

  “Let me see,” she said quietly as she joined him and placed a hand on his arm. His muscles were so tense, she could almost feel them vibrating. “That’s the delivery man. I ordered some things for the girls.”

  “You are sure?”

  “Yes. I’ll just go and meet him at the door.”

  “No,” he roared.

  “T’gana, it’s fine.” After a quick glance to make sure that the blast tube was set on stun, she added. “You can come with me and make sure that everything is safe if you are worried.”

  If anything, he tensed even more.

  “What if I don’t know?” The words seemed wrung from his depths.

  “Don’t know what?”

  “If you are truly in danger? If I am here… or if I am back on Klendat.”

  “Part of you will know. Part of you knew when Mae showed up. You didn’t hurt her or anyone else.”

  “I failed to protect you.”

  “No, you didn’t. I’m just fine. And I’ll be fine this time too. I promise that he’s just here to bring me my order.”

  He shook his head, but he followed her without additional protest. His hand still hovered over the blast tube as she opened the door. The delivery man almost dropped the boxes when he saw T’gana looming behind her, but he gulped and placed the packages carefully on the porch. As soon as he was done, he turned tail and not quite ran down the steps.

  “Honestly. You’d think he’d never seen a Yehrin before,” she said lightly, turning back to T’gana, still frozen in place. “Can you help me bring these in?”

  He gathered up the packages and carried them through to the kitchen table, still silent.

  “The girls are going to be thrilled. They’ll want to model everything for you.” Her words fell into the silence between them.

  “S’rah, I can not. Not… today.”

  She chose to take the fact that he had added the qualifier as a good sign. “All right, my love.”

  “I am going to rest,” he said. Before she could respond, he vanished into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Perhaps he did need some time to come to terms with the events of the previous day. Her heart ached for his pain, but this time she didn’t follow him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As predicted, the girls did want to show off their new clothes, but Sarah told them that T’gana was resting. She suspected that neither one of them was fooled but they didn’t protest. Their new toys kept them occupied for the rest of the afternoon. For dinner, she didn’t take a chance on cooking but put together some boxed macaroni and cheese. It still wasn’t quite right but at least it was edible and neither girl complained.

  When it came time for bed, Tabby headed for the closed bedroom door.

  “Tabby, sweetie, I’m not sure that this is a good time.”

  “Goodnight kisses,” she said firmly.

  Sarah sighed. Perhaps Tabby was right. A little time was one thing, but he couldn’t stay in there forever. The bedroom was in complete darkness, the curtains drawn over the windows so not a speck of moonlight entered. Tabby didn’t hesitate. She crossed the dim room, climbed up on the bed and put her arms around T’gana.

  “I knows you there, my Tigga.”

  Jane followed her up and kissed his cheek. Sarah saw a brief flash of gold, then a big arm encircled each girl in a gentle hug.

  “Come along, girls. Let T’gana rest.”

  “So he can cook breakfast?” Jane asked hopefully.

  She bit her lip. “Maybe.”

  “I will cook.” The deep voice still sounded hoarse and strained, but at least he was talking.

  Jane gave an excited squeal and Tabby grinned.

  “One would almost think you didn’t like my cooking,” she teased.

  “You make good cereal,” Jane said.

  “Thank you. It’s nice to know that my talents are appreciated. Now come along, girls. Time for bed.”

  For just a second, T’gana’s arms tightened around the girls, then he let them go.

  After she tucked them in and read them a story, she wandered back into the silent kitchen. The house had seemed lonely to her before on those long nights when Jeff was called away on an emergency, but never quite as desolate as it felt tonight. Even with T’gana in the next room, she could feel the distance between them. She had actually thought they were making progress before the delivery man arrived.

  With a sigh, she picked up the communicator and called T’bukka. He answered immediately.

  “Good evening, S’rah. Is there a problem?”

  “I’m not sure.” She told him about the events of the day.

  “This is excellent. I believe that you are reaching him.”

  “But then he retreated so fast this afternoon and now I’m not sure what to do. Was I pushing him too hard?”

  “What do your instincts say?”

  “That he needs us.” She sighed. “It’s just easy to doubt myself when I want to help him so badly.”

  “Did you expect this to be simple?” he asked gently.

  A reluctant laugh escaped. “Maybe not expected it, but I guess I hoped.”

  “Unless he manages to find his own way back to you, it will take time.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” No matter how much her heart ached at the thought of her warrior lying there alone in the dark. “How is your new job working out?”

  “Eventfully,” he said drily, then proceeded to entertain her with stories of some of the more aggressive women, already determined to be first in line when the breeding center opened. He had a caustic wit that soon had her laughing despite her worries. By the time she hung up, she felt much better. She decided to try reading again, but when she turned, she found T’gana standing in the door of the bedroom, eyes blazing.

  “He is not for you, S’rah.” he growled.

  “Who is not for me? Do you mean T’bukka?”

  Another growl escaped when she said the other warrior’s name, then he stalked over and snatched her up into his arms and headed back to the bedroom.

  “What are you doing? T’gana!” Torn between annoyance and amusement, and an unexpected wave of desire, she pushed half-heartedly at his chest. He paid no attention. It wasn’t until he had dropped her on the be
d and followed her down that he hesitated.

  Guilt finally intruded into T’gana’s possessive rage. He was behaving like one of his savage ancestors.

  “I am sorry, S’rah,” he said, and started to pull away but she put her arms around his neck. He could easily have broken her hold, but he had no real desire to move away.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  He looked away, ashamed. He had been lying in the dark, his mind flashing from Klendat to the bedroom, when he had heard S’rah laugh. The sound comforted him at first, and then he realized that it had been some time since he had heard her laugh. As he listened more closely, he had realized that T’bukka was the one bringing forth the joyous sound. An initial pang of sorrow that he had not been able to make her as happy was quickly replaced by anger as the conversation continued. Why was T’bukka still talking to her? What was he saying to keep her in such a ripple of amusement? How dare the other male try and seduce his female away. By the time the conversation ended, all he could think about was proving to his female that she belonged to him.

  But now he remembered that she did not—could not.

  “Was it because I was talking to T’bukka?” Her hands slid up his neck until she could grasp the base of his horns. The teasing touch in the sensitive area sent a streak of fire straight to his cock. His very hard, very ready cock. She must have felt it jerk against her because she lifted her hips in response.

  “You don’t have any reason to be jealous, my love. You are the only warrior I want.”

  He groaned and started to dip his head to kiss her but stopped.

  “I am not worthy.”

  “Oh, T’gana. Of course, you are.” She tugged on his horns and he let her pull him closer. “I know it’s going to take time for you to realize that and I’m willing to wait, but for right now, can we forget about worth and the future, and just be together? Just take one moment at a time?”

  She raised a hand to the clasp on his uniform. “Let me touch you. Please.”

  How could he refuse her? Just for tonight, he reminded himself, and nodded. She released the catch and the top fluttered away. Before he had a chance to regret it, she brought a hand down to stroke his chest and sighed with satisfaction.

  “That’s better.”

  “You too,” he urged.

  With a breath-taking smile, she started to unbutton her shirt, but he was too impatient to wait. He ripped it open with his claws and tossed it and her undergarment aside, then cradled her against him so that he could feel her flesh warm and silky against his. His cock ached and throbbed between his legs but for the moment, he was content just to hold her, to relish this special intimacy. But her nipples were diamond hard and she shifted restlessly.

  “Make love to me, my warrior,” she whispered.

  He flinched at the term, but he put aside his fears and doubts and devoted himself to pleasing her. The darkness in his soul disappeared in a haze of soft flesh and silky heat and breathless cries. His seed erupted in an explosion of passion as she shuddered and clung to him. He felt her body grow limp and sleepy beneath him before he finally slipped free. She murmured unintelligibly and nestled against him.

  For a long time, he lay next to her in a state of relaxed contentment, but the darkness gradually returned. As he tensed, he heard the sounds of the house and beyond that, the garden. An insect chittered and his skin turned clammy. Just an Earth insect, he reminded himself, but when it sounded again, he couldn't remain still. Slipping free of S’rah’s arms, he donned his shirt and went to investigate.

  By the time he stood on the back porch, the night was silent. Had he even heard anything? Or had his mind betrayed him again. All he could do was keep watch and protect his females. For the rest of the night, he patrolled the house, moving from front to back, upstairs and down, in an endless loop, determined not to let anything escape him again.

  The large bedroom at the top of the stairs opened out onto a balcony overlooking the backyard and he was there when the sky started to lighten. He greeted the sight of the rising sun with relief and a sense of exhaustion. Perhaps he could return to bed and hold S’rah before the day truly started…

  He made it to the bottom of the stairs when the office door opened and T’bitha peeked out. When she saw him, she smiled and wandered over to him, yawning sleepily. The hair on one side of her head stuck straight up and strange creatures frolicked over her gown—she looked adorable. She held up her arms and he picked her up. She yawned again and snuggled against his chest, smelling of sleep and warm little girl. The tension inside him released a little more.

  “Pancakes?” she asked around another yawn.

  A laugh surprised him. “I don’t think you’re awake enough for pancakes, little one. Why don’t we go sit on the back porch and wait for S’rah and J’ne to wake up?”

  “Okay.”

  T’bitha fell asleep again as soon as he sat down, but he remained seated, letting her sleep. As the day brightened, a new chorus of insects released their cries, but this time he didn’t flinch at the noise or wonder if he was hallucinating. T’bitha kept him firmly in the present.

  Cr’stal called after lunch. The morning had passed peacefully enough. T’bitha had asked him to show her the training exercises again and he found the same unexpected comfort in the familiar movements that he had the previous day. Despite his exhaustion, he didn’t feel as weighed down by despair today. It had finally occurred to him that S’rah and the girls were doing their best to help him. One of them always came to him whenever the darkness started to increase and today his mind was clear enough both to recognize what they were doing and to realize that it did help. After the midday meal, J’ne turned on the television to watch an animated program. An explosion of sparks lit up the screen as thunder came from the speakers. The green sky started to descend, but he forced himself to walk over to S’rah. He put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, and the sky was no longer green.

  “T’gana, is something wrong?”

  “No. I… needed you.” He stumbled over the words, but she did not withdraw in disgust. Instead, she hugged him fiercely.

  “Then I’m glad you came to me. Did something trigger you?”

  Too ashamed to admit that a simple children’s program had shaken his already unsteady mind, he just shrugged. However, she peered past him and saw the screen.

  “I see. Jane, can you turn off the tv? Why don’t you and Tabby go outside and play? I’ll bring you out a popsicle in a little while.”

  They were out there now, pretending to be sailing across the sea and singing about a heart, when the phone rang. He froze and S’rah tensed, then shook her head.

  “It can’t always be bad news, can it?”

  As soon as his sensitive hearing picked up Cr’stal’s voice, he realized she was wrong. The girl was crying so hard that her words were barely intelligible.

  “He’s gone. Darryl’s gone.”

  “Oh, Crystal, I’m so sorry,” S’rah said in a low soothing voice, but her gaze had flown past him to the girls jumping in and out of their “boat.”

  “I- I should tell the girls.”

  “Not over the phone,” S’rah said promptly. “Or… or would you prefer that I do it?”

  “God, yes. I don’t know what to say. I have to call his parents too.”

  “Is Becca still with you?”

  “Yeah, she’s here. But, Sarah, what am I going to do now?”

  S’rah continued to talk gently to the girl as despair tugged at him. The male had been worthless, but he should have been fast enough to save him. The blackness crept back, and the dark bedroom called to him. He took a step in that direction and S’rah caught his hand. He remained obediently at her side until she finished her call.

  “Poor girl. I think she genuinely cared for him. Although she does seem a little obsessed with wondering who’s going to look after her now.”

  He didn’t respond and she stepped closer.

  “T’
gana, I suspect you’re blaming yourself. Don’t. The only person at fault here is Mae.”

  “I did not protect him.”

  “You protected me, and you stopped her as quickly as you could. Crystal is safe as well.”

  He shook his head and cast a longing glance at the quiet bedroom, but her hand tightened. “You can’t go back to bed now. I have to tell the girls and they’re going to need you. I need you.”

  Her plea broke through his despair. If she needed him then, the least he could do was to try and be there for her.

  “I will come with you.”

  Together they walked out into the garden. S’rah sat on the back steps and tugged him down next to her before she called the girls over.

  “I’m afraid I have some sad news,” she said.

  “Do we hafta leave?” J’ne asked, and T’bitha’s thumb crept into her mouth.

  “No, that’s not it. Do you remember that I told you that your Daddy was very sick? I’m sorry but he didn’t get any better. He died this morning.”

  “Like Mr. Bubbles?”

  “Mr. Bubbles?”

  “My fish. He died and we had to flush him down the toilet.”

  “Yes, I suppose it’s like that.”

  J’ne burst into noisy sobs and T’bitha followed, although she seemed more confused than upset. His hearts ached at their suffering. Suffering he could have prevented if he wasn’t so damaged. He forced his guilt aside when T’bitha reached for him. J’ne was already in S’rah’s lap and together they held the girls and let them cry until the tears died down into muted snuffles.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” J’ne asked eventually.

  “You’re going to stay with me,” S’rah said firmly.

  “Like you’s our mama?” asked T’bitha.

  “Yes, sweetie, just like that.”

  “Mama Sarah,” J’ne said, and smiled for the first time.

  “And Daddy Tigga,” T’bitha added. The words struck straight at his hearts. He wanted that so desperately, but could he protect them as a father should or was he too damaged? His eyes flew to S’rah’s and she nodded encouragingly, but no words would come. Instead, he put an arm around S’rah and J’ne and pulled all three of his girls close.