Promises to Keep

by Promises To Keep (lit) (NCP)

  Recovering, she shook her head in awe. "I never imagined a place like this."

  Garran leaned back and stretched his long legs, resting his arms on the back of the bench. Sarah thought she’d never seen him so relaxed.

  "Actually, it’s a duplicate of the park in our main city. We’ve made it smaller, of course, but did a pretty good job of getting the feel of the place."

  Sarah slipped her shoes off and felt the grass between her toes, groaning aloud with pleasure. "It’s wonderful, Garran."

  He grinned at her, and moved to touch her cheek, back of his hand stroking it gently. Under the sleeve of his shirt, his arm muscles rippled and Sarah resisted the urge to run her hand along them, feel their strength.

  Sarah closed her eyes and let the sensuality of the moment run over her--the feel of grass between her toes, Garran’s hand stroking her face, the air heavy with the smell of flowers and growing things. Somewhere nearby was running water. She could hear the trickling sound over the soft murmurs of the other couples enjoying the beauty of the park.

  She felt as if in a dream, but different from the many dreams about her lover. It wasn’t sex she sought but a feeling of home. This place felt like home, a home she’d never been to.

  Another thing she could have if she stayed with Garran. Sarah imagined a mental form, listing pros and cons for remaining Garran’s wife. The pro column was getting pretty full.

  The con column held two items. The first was the fact that it was unlikely she would ever love him. The second was a question. Could she live with a man she couldn’t love?

  She still didn’t know.

  "What are you thinking about, Sarah mine?" Garran’s voice was soft, but there was an odd darkness to it. She opened her eyes to see him frowning at her and for a moment she wondered how much he could tell from her face.

  "I’m thinking about staying with you. As your wife."

  He grew even more watchful. "Then why does your face fill with sadness?" His hand seized her chin, turning her face towards him. "What is it about staying with me that causes you such dismay?"

  How could she tell him the truth? Her heart in her throat, she tried to explain. "Garran, I’m not that experienced when it comes to relationships between men and women. I’ve never been in love, and I don’t know what it feels like."

  "Do you think you’re in love, now?"

  Was she? "No, I’m sure I’m not." But then why did her skin welcome his touch. Could it really be just a physical reaction?

  "I told you, love will follow."

  He said the words, but for once Sarah didn’t hear confidence in his voice. "And if it doesn’t Garran, what then? Can we be man and wife and not be in love?"

  He passed a thumb over her lips, and she shuddered. "Did you think you were in love with this dream man of yours?" he crooned. "How could you be when you react this way to me?"

  She jerked away ignoring his pull on her senses. "A physical reaction is one thing, but I don’t think I could ever love you!"

  An odd look passed over his face. Garran stood and reached for her, grabbing her elbow and dragging her off the bench. For instant he simply gazed into her eyes and the heat of his stare made her mouth go dry, and up and down her arm she felt a tingling from the grip of his hand. Dragging her by the arm, Garran strode toward the exit of the garden. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Sammul still watching the garden. He didn’t notice them leave.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A few turns later they were once again in a quiet and empty corridor. Sarah managed to find her voice. "Garran, where are you taking me?"

  "Back to my quarters." His voice sounded strained.

  "Why?" She tried to pull out of his grip. He merely increased the pressure on her arm and sped up. "Garran, you’re hurting me. Let me go."

  When there was no response, she balled up one fist and swung at him and his response was to grab her hand. His eyes flashed and his lips narrowed. Garran was angrier than she’d ever seen him, and deep within her Sarah felt fear. He stopped, and captured both her hands in his steely grip, making her face him. Deliberately he held her arms to his side and forced her back flat against the wall, using his body to capture hers. His grip on her was so firm, she could barely move.

  Inwardly she cursed the frightened shudder that went through her. "Garran, Why are we going back to your quarters?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper."

  "To finish this." His voice was rough. "To do what I should have done two days ago, to complete what was begun this morning. You are my wife, Sarah mine. I need you, and you are going to fill that need, now." He pushed closer, pinning her to the wall. Evidence of what he called his ‘need’ was pressed against her belly and heady desire filled her making her feel faint again.

  She struggled against it. No way was she going to swoon in his arms!

  "What do you think this will prove, Garran? Do you think I’ll learn to love you if you take me this way?"

  He smiled but the curve of his lips didn’t change the look in his eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. I’ll see to it you enjoy it--perhaps bedding with me will even convince you, one more argument in my favor. Or maybe it won’t be what you want. But it’s lain too long between us. Today you are mine, Sarah mine. Today, I’m going to bed you, with or without your explicit permission."

  "’Explicit permission’? You have no permission to do this, Garran." She struggled against him, trying to break free, but he was much too strong for her. In fact her movement seemed to excite him more, his eyes glittered as she inadvertently rubbed against him. "Let go of me." Hot tears threatened to spill from her eyes as he kept her pinned.

  His voice was softer. "You’re right, you have not given me permission, but I take it anyway. I need you, Sarah. The fact that you’ve turned me down should have stopped that, but it hasn’t. I’m still attached to you. And that means I must do this. You say you don’t want me, but you do, I can feel that want. You are reacting to me, whether you want to or not and that feeds the need in me. Sarah, we need each other."

  He shook his head. "It is you that fires this feeling in me, Sarah mine, you and no other. You dream of a faceless man, and have saved your body for his touch. Perhaps in two days you’ll decide to go find him. I’ll set you free if you do. But now, you are mine, Sarah, and if you dream tonight, I assure you the man in your dream will not lack a face."

  As if to emphasize this, he leaned in, his face coming closer to her, until it was all she could see. His lips pressed against hers, first almost gently, as if he wanted to remind her of his kiss from before.

  But his pent-up passion didn’t allow so innocent a kiss to last, and he pressed harder, his mouth moving intently, forcing hers to open, his tongue plundering. There was nothing gentle about this, but in spite of that, Sarah realized her own body was meeting his, her mouth was party to this violation, her tongue happily engaging his as if of its own accord.

  She reacted to him, exactly as he said she would, she felt the stirrings his touch had raised before, rise again, double, triple the intensity, until she could think or feel nothing else.

  She couldn’t stop his passion, she craved it, and she met it with her own. All her inhibitions melted and she softened against his hardness, giving in the need to fit herself to him. As she surrendered to him, he reduced the pressure, eased off her until he could look into her eyes.

  What he saw there must have pleased him. He exulted as he backed away, letting her slide away from the wall. Still gripping her arms, he pulled back into the corridor. "Now, Sarah, we’ll go."

  Sarah looked over his shoulder and saw another young couple approaching. The man looked thrilled to see them, but the woman had a different expression. Sarah looked into her face and saw no fear, no anger, just a fixed determination.

  As they approached, the other woman lunged ahead of her husband, knocking him to the side in her charge. Sarah screamed as the flash of a knife appeared in the other woman’s hand.

  Garran was in mid-turn when
she plunged the knife into his back. He twisted as she pulled it out, and Sarah could see it wasn’t really a knife but a short tube with a long needle-like blade, probably easily hidden, certainly long enough to piece the heart.

  Fortunately Sarah’s warning scream had caused him to shift slightly and their attacker had missed the killing blow.

  Sarah’s blood froze as she realized what the woman was. The demonic face, frozen in a mask of hate--she’d heard about this, even if she’d never seen one before. The woman was an Alkar assassin, infected with a parasite whose natural predatory nature could be programmed to kill a particular target. It was unstoppable short of killing it and it would kill anything in its way.

  Anything, or anyone, including Sarah. It was the perfect assassin, undetectable if you didn’t know what to look for because usually the host didn’t even realize what it was...until it was too late.

  Garran staggered and fell to his knees. Sarah had taken only a couple of self-defense classes but she knew how to do a wicked sidekick. Before their attacker could get in a second blow, Sarah’s foot caught her in the stomach, pushing the would-be assassin back into the arms of her husband.

  He clutched her close. "Mary, no, what are you doing?" His broken voice betrayed his horror. Face frozen in fury, Mary turned in his arms and raised her weapon to strike him down.

  And then--didn’t. Sarah watched in amazement as the mask of the assassin’s face slipped, cracked, her eyes widening in panic. "No...." she whispered, her voice anguished. She seemed to fight with herself for a second and then threw her husband to the side, the parasite giving her unnatural strength. He hit the wall hard and stunned, fell to the floor. When she turned back to Sarah her mask was firmly back in place.

  She stepped forward, needle sharp weapon at the ready. Staring at Sarah she spoke. "Target found. Search, attack, destroy. Must destroy." Her voice was thin, reedy, and Sarah knew the parasite was in charge. But the woman’s movements were hesitant, clearly a battle of some sort going on inside her. She broke eye contact with Sarah, her gaze darting to the still figure of her husband on the floor and the mask cracked again, her mouth turning down in pain.

  Thundering footsteps came down the hall and a bulky figure crashed into the woman, sending her to the floor. She lost control of the weapon and it fell from her hand, rolling on the floor, and Sarah kicked it further down the hall, well out of reach. The new arrival, Sammul, who’d run after them when he’d noticed his charges had slipped away from him, struggled to subdue the pathetically struggling figure. Her cries alternated between the high-pitched screeches of the parasite and the anguished crying of the host woman. Finally he pulled a small stunner from a hidden pocket and fired into her side. She collapsed beneath him.

  Sarah dropped to her knees beside Garran, now flat on the floor, blood pouring from the wound on his back, bright red and pulsing. The assassin had missed the killing blow but managed to nick an artery anyway. He’d bleed out if she couldn’t stop the flow.

  She pulled his shirt up, wadded it into a ball and pushed it down over the wound. "Sammul, I need a wound sealer, fast."

  Barely conscious of the big man’s voice, shouting into his portable com-link, Sarah fought the wound on Garran’s back applying pressure to it to stop the bleeding. When his shirt bled through, she increased the pad with the edge of her skirt.

  Sarah leaned over and whispered fiercely into his ear. "Don’t you dare die on me, Gaian man."

  She was still pressing against his back and whispering to him when the medical team arrived, complete with the equipment to put a temporary stop to the bleeding. Reluctantly she left his side, letting the crash team do their work, content in watching his continued breathing...too labored for her liking...but continued.

  She sat against the wall and watched their work, keeping tabs on their efficiency, keeping watch on her husband. When they hooked up a sensor array, she glanced at that, making sure that his heart still functioned normally, blood still pumping, his brain still working.

  He seemed awfully still to her. Garran was never a still man, always pacing, moving, even in his sleep. Now he lay there quiet and she didn’t like it.

  Outside her field of vision others arrived, from the security forces. Sammul dealt with them, turning over Mary O’Connell, the assassin to their custody. She heard Mary’s husband volunteer to go with them.

  Sarah didn’t care, glad to leave all that to Sammul. She watched the gentle rise and fall of Garran’s chest. That’s what was important to her, not the assassin or her husband. Only Garran held meaning for her.

  Her world had contracted to one thing. Was Garran going to live? Nothing else had significance.

  Finally the crash team finished preparing Garran for transportation. Sammul came to Sarah and helped her to her feet. She felt his arm around her as they followed the hover-stretcher that carried Garran to the medical center.

  * * * *

  Sammul guided Sarah as they followed the stretcher, fiercely scanning the area for further danger. Additional security had been added to their little progression but he was taking no further chances.

  The big man still couldn’t believe that the General and Sarah had managed to slip away from him. He cringed at what Symon and Maxxa were going to say to him...not that he didn’t deserve all of it. Praise Gaia he’d been able to get there in time to stop further bloodshed.

  Still in his mind was the image of Sarah standing defiant over Garran’s body before the Earth assassin. What a magnificent woman!

  She’d fought unarmed for Garran’s life, keeping the other woman at bay, preventing her from stabbing him again. Then later a different fight, using Garran’s shirt and her skirt to stop the bleeding, to save his life.

  He’d watched her put her entire soul into it. He knew she was doctor but it had been more than a patient she’d fought for.

  She’d fought for her man.

  Sammul’s turn to enter a marriage meet hadn’t come up yet, and while he’d been a little disappointed at missing this last one, it hadn’t bothered him that much.

  Sure, he was like any other man. He wanted a woman--someday. It’d be nice to have someone around, someone to spend time with. He’d heard wonderful things about sex and wanted to try it. But Sammul figured he could wait, it wasn’t that big a priority in his life.

  Until he’d seen Sarah stand up to the woman who’d attacked the General.

  They reached the clinic and the techs moved Garran into surgery. Sarah was directed to a private waiting area and Sammul stayed with her. He got a warmed blanket from a nurse and wrapped it around her, covering her bloodstained clothes. One of the nurses approached, wanting to be of help, but he told the woman firmly to leave them alone for a while.

  Sarah needed time to rest. Until they knew what Garran’s fate was, she needed to be there and kept warm and safe and Sammul intended to see that happened.

  He watched her, the shaken look on her face, the lingering shock from the attack, and he realized why a man needed a woman.

  Sarah had fought for Garran to protect him. She could have died but either that hadn’t occurred to her or she’d not considered it important. No one cared for Sammul like that and no one would until he entered a marriage meet and found his match.

  Then he’d have a wife, a woman who’d love him. In return he’d have someone to care about, to love--someone he’d give his life to protect.

  Sammul hadn’t thought of that as important before.

  He did now.

  * * * *

  Bethan found them in the waiting area, Sarah staring into space, looking worn and covered in blood, Sammul grimly guarding her, keeping all others away.

  Grabbing a thermal flask of javi and three mugs, she entered the room and used a mug of the fragrant brew to catch Sarah’s attention. Her head rose from inside the blanket around her shoulders and she waved Bethan over, Sammul reluctantly stepping aside.

  Sarah’s fixed stare melted and a hint of a smile even showed in her eye
s as she lifted the mug to her lips. Her eyes closed as she sipped deeply the fortifying liquid. "Thanks, Bethan."

  "Least I can do for the woman who saved Garran’s life."

  Sarah shuddered. "I didn’t, not really. If Sammul hadn’t gotten there in time...or if she hadn’t fought the parasite."

  "Parasite?" Bethan sat down. "What are you talking about."

  "It’s a parasite. Earthforce found them on the planet Alkar about ten years back. I’ve never seen one before but I’ve heard of them."

  She took another gulp of javi. "The parasite has a rudimentary intelligence and a fierce need to kill. When a human host is infected with one, it becomes a slave to the parasite. They then show images of the target and the creature becomes fixated on killing who ever it is."

  Bethan scowled. "We gave her a through exam when she came on board. There was no sign of a parasite in Mary."

  Sarah shook her head. "They aren’t detectable unless you know what to look for. Just a little blip in the stomach cavity, hooked into the spinal column. And most of the time all you see is the personality of the host. They are usually only subconsciously aware the parasite is in them. That’s what makes them such good assassins...they don’t even know what they are. The parasite takes over the mind when activated and pumps adrenalin into the bloodstream." She glanced at Sammul. "They can be almost impossible to stop."

  It was Sammul’s turn to scowl. "She wasn’t that hard."

  Sarah smiled grimly. "Mary fought the parasite." Shaking her head, she took another sip of javi. "I’ve never heard of that happening before, but the creature was going to force her to kill her husband and she stopped it, overcame its hold on her. Once that happened, you could over-power it. Otherwise it would have killed you, me, the husband, anyone who stood between it and Garran before it stopped."

  Shaken and seeking fortification, Bethan poured her own javi. "I had no idea such things existed."