by Regine Abel
The sting of my fangs sinking in my tongue kept me from bursting out laughing. No one in a thousand years would ever believe her to be a male, even pretending it was one that had been castrated before reaching puberty.
“That was a valiant effort,” I said cautiously, fearing a bout of laughter the instant I began talking.
“That means I suck,” Brianna said with the loveliest pout, her shoulders drooping.
“No, you don’t,” I said, giving her pouty, bottom lip a little nip. “But when you do, you do so magnificently.”
She blinked, not understanding at first and then gasped, looking both shocked and amused as she gave me a friendly slap on the upper arm.
“You perv!” she mumbled.
“Hardly. I’m merely giving credit where it’s due,” I said teasingly, though kicking myself for this reminder of how my mate’s mouth around my cock always brought me to the brink of insanity. One day, she’d kill me with pleasure.
“Be that as it may,” Brianna muttered with an adorable blush reddening her cheeks, “that doesn’t change the fact that my male voice is pathetic.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Hondassa,” I said, caressing her throat with the back of my hand. “It’s not pathetic. But you are the embodiment of femininity in all its grace, elegance, and strength. It would make no sense for you to have a manly voice.”
“You evil flatterer,” she said, failing miserably to sound stern. “I don’t deserve you.”
The emotion in her voice made my heart ache with the strength of the feelings blossoming inside me for my female.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered again before kissing me.
I responded in kind, our tongues mingling. It was filled with affection, tenderness, and something special I couldn’t describe, devoid of any of the lust that had been rearing its head moments ago.
“You more than deserve me, my mate,” I whispered against her lips. “I’ve waited centuries to find you. I thank Lar every day for bringing you to me and giving us the chance to be together, against all odds.”
Brianna’s mouth worked as she seemed to hesitate to speak the words that clearly burned on her tongue. I didn’t need to hear them. I didn’t want to hear them until she was ready and certain. My woman’s eyes told me all that I needed to know.
“Sleep, my Hondassa. Tomorrow, we go buy the tools needed to make you a voice modulator.”
Her eyes widened. “You can make one?”
“Of course,” I said with false outrage. “I’m an alien with advanced knowledge. I can do anything!”
She giggled and gave me another friendly tap. “Silly man.”
“Only for you, Brianna. Only for you.”
She smiled and cuddled against me. I held her until she fell into a deep sleep, then snuck out of bed. Being a creature of habit, I yearned for my perch but settled on the floor before entering duramna. I didn’t truly need it, but I preferred to be overly cautious by keeping myself fully rested and healed at all times.
The next morning, Brianna’s dainty fingers teasing my nipples pulled me out of my slumber. I had been aware of her waking but remained in this hazy place between the dream world and wakefulness. I tried to remain stoic under her touch, but my cock once again betrayed me. Coming out of duramna, I tossed her on the bed and showed her what happened when an irresistible female awakened a sleeping Khargal—not that she complained.
We ate a quick breakfast at the motel’s dining room, then agreed that I would head out on my own to acquire the parts I needed for her voice modulator. Brianna would remain locked up in our room and wouldn’t open to anyone. If only we’d been on Duras, I’d simply have made her drink some juice of tamsiak that would have made her sound like a male for a few hours.
She used the pretext of going to fetch some ice from the ice machine, allowing me to leave the room in stealth mode. It took a little longer at the entrance for someone to finally exit so that I could shadow them. Before leaving, I made a reconnaissance flight over the perimeter of the motel to make sure no suspicious vehicle or individual had the place staked out.
Although reassured when I could not detect anyone, I remained stressed the entire ninety minutes it took me to fly to the closest electronics store, find the parts or items I could extract from them, buy a new travel bag for Brianna and return to the motel.
It took all my willpower, upon re-entering our room, not to draw my mate in to a bruising hold. I couldn’t let her know how much I’d worried. She relied on my strength and confidence to get through this ordeal. Seeing me this frazzled would undermine her faith in me and not help her already challenged peace of mind.
It took me an entire day to assemble the voice modulator. It wasn’t the spectacular success I had hoped for. I could only go so far with the pieces I had. Although it did modify her voice, she had to speak in a bit of a hush for it to work reasonably well, making her sound like someone who had abused alcohol and cigarettes.
We spent the following day making her practice using it, walking, and acting like a man. The hardest part for her was to not sit ladylike, knees together, feet slightly to the side. I kept reminding her to pretend she had a grapefruit lodged in her crotch. That made her laugh until I actually did stuff her crotch with a carrot shaped plushy to give the impression she had a cock.
Brianna wasn’t amused.
The delay turned out to be beneficial. While my mate trained her manly skills, I made additional tweaks to my armor to increase the flight time in stealth mode. But those couple of days also made our trail grow cold. The agents who had been camping out at the main transportation venues would be thinking we’d long ago moved on.
Or so I hoped.
14
Brianna
I paced back and forth, trying to work up the courage to call my father. Once we left the motel, we’d pretty much leave civilization. There were no guarantees that the phones Militza had provided would still work once we reached the cabin we’d stay in for the seven days remaining before the rescue ship arrived.
Alkor had offered to grant me some privacy while I talked to my dad, but I asked him to stay. A part of me needed his strength near me. The other part of me feared he would be disappointed to see me fall apart and turn into a complete emotional wreck.
Three times already, I’d dialed the number and hung up instead of pressing the call button. I wasn’t a child. Not anymore. I could do this. I needed to do this. Taking a deep breath, my eyes connected with Alkor’s. He smiled encouragingly and nodded. I swallowed hard, dialed the number, and tapped the call button with trembling fingers. My stomach knotted a bit more with each ring, both dreading and hoping he wouldn’t pick up.
On the fourth one, he did.
“Hello?” my father’s voice answered, his curiosity at not recognizing the number plain to hear.
Since Mom’s death, Father’s circle of friends had considerably shrunk as he increasingly isolated himself. Once he’d met Merryl, she became the center of his universe, and her also limited circle of friends became his.
“Hello, Dad,” I said, pleasantly surprised by how stable my voice sounded.
“Pumpkin!” Dad exclaimed, visibly stunned. “I didn’t recognize the number. What’s wrong?”
I instantly felt a wave of bitterness wash over me.
“Does something have to be wrong for a daughter to call her father?” I said with a slightly harsher tone than I’d intended.
“No, of course not,” he replied on the defensive. “It’s just unusual for you to call on a whim. I worried is all. So… How are you?”
I bit my bottom lip. This isn’t how I had planned on starting this conversation.
“I’m doing good. Really good,” I said in the gentlest voice I could summon. “I… There’s a lot happening in my life right now. Some wonderful things.”
“Oh?” my father said, although it sounded more polite than really interested.
“As you may remember, I met someone.”
“Yes, yes. That’s very good,” he said, with the same distracted tone.
“That’s very good,” I echoed, the bitterness seeping back into my voice. “You know, most fathers would already be giving me the third degree. What’s his name? What does he do for a living? What’s his religion? Who are his parents? What do they do? Where does he live? Where did you meet him? You know, the stuff fathers worry about when they give a shit about their daughter.”
“Hey, young lady! Watch your language! I raised you better than that!” my father exclaimed.
Something inside me snapped.
“No, Dad, you didn’t raise me better than that. In fact, you didn’t raise me at all because you were too fucking busy punishing me for looking too much like Mom!” I shouted. “I lost her, too! I lost both of you that day. You might as well have died, too, for all the difference it made!”
I slapped my hand over my mouth, shocked by the venomous—but true—words that poured from my mouth. A heavy silence answered me, the sound of my own breathing roaring in my ears. Heart pounding, I waited for my father to say something, anything, even if to yell at me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I stuttered when the silence stretched. “Dad? Dad? Please say something? I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, you did,” he finally answered with a tired voice. “And you’re right. I couldn’t stand looking at you. It hurt too much. I still can’t.”
My heart all but shattered inside my chest and tears burst from my eyes. Without a word, Alkor came to stand behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Trembling, I leaned back against his strong chest, needing every ounce of his strength.
“I failed you as a father, Brianna,” my father said, his voice shaking with repressed tears, “but it was never your fault. It was always mine. Your mother was everything to me. It’s been twenty years, yet it still hurts as much as that day. Sarah had always been the strong one, and so are you.”
My throat constricted to the point where I could barely draw in any air. In all these years, my father had only ever shown me a politely cold and distant front, never this deeply emotional, wounded, broken man.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Brianna. You are and will always be my little pumpkin. I do love you. I’ll always love you. But I hurt you more by being around than away from you. Not because of anything you did, but because I am weak.” My father drew in a shuddering breath when he heard me sniffle through the phone. “Don’t cry, pumpkin. Please don’t cry. I didn’t ask you about your boyfriend because it shames me to have failed you, because I think of you walking down the aisle and how you would look angelic, exactly like Sarah had and… and…”
Hearing Dad weep over the phone broke me. In all those years, resenting him for abandoning me, I had never realized how utterly Mom’s death had devastated my father, even to this day. I had spent so much time resenting Merryl for stealing his affection from me, and for trying so hard to erase his memory of Mom. Now, I actually felt sorry for her. How horrible it must be to be married to someone you love—and I never doubted Merryl’s love for my father—knowing that his heart would always belong to another now beyond the grave.
“I forgive you, Dad,” I said, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “You did what you could, and I didn’t turn out too bad. So you did something right.” I said with a teary laugh. “I love you, Dad. And I… I’m glad we’ve finally talked about this. I thought you hated me.”
“Oh Bri… Never! Never, sweetheart!” my father exclaimed. “You’re my baby girl.”
“Your all-grown-up baby girl,” I said, smiling through my tears. “Dad… I’m going away for a really long time,” I said, sobering. “This is probably the last time we’ll talk.”
“What’s going on, Bri? Are you in trouble?” Father asked, worry replacing his sadness. “Is it that guy? He’s not in some kind of cult, is he?”
I burst out laughing. “No, Dad. Alkor is definitely not in a cult. And if he were, I doubt he would have let me call you to give you a heads up.”
“But he’s the one taking you away, isn’t he?” Dad persisted.
As much as his prying worried me, it soothed a painful ache deep in my soul. I’d heard him say he loved me, and I believed him. But in this instance, I felt his care; I had my father back.
“Yes. He asked, and left the choice up to me. I have chosen to go with him. Nothing ties me here, and he’s amazing to me.”
“Let me talk to him,” Alkor whispered in my ears.
I hesitated for a second before nodding. “He wants to talk to you,” I said hurriedly to my father and passed the phone to Alkor without waiting for his response.
I pulled out of his embrace and turned around to face him. Eyes locked on his serious face, I bit my bottom lip and twisted my hands with anxiety. Alkor put the phone on speaker.
So much for wanting Dad to meddle in my affairs.
“Hello Mr. Brent,” Alkor said, his voice suddenly more gravelly, like when he turned to partial stone form. “My name is Alkor Drayvus, your daughter’s mate.”
Silence met his words. My stomach knotted, my anxiety skyrocketing. I cast a worried look at Alkor who smiled at me reassuringly.
“I know that voice…” my father finally whispered, sounding halfway between awe and fear.
“You do,” Alkor acknowledged stoically.
Baffled, I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He caressed my cheek but didn’t comment otherwise.
“It… It was you… That night, it was you,” my father said.
“Yes.”
My father insisted. “With the golden eyes and the… the…”
“Yes,” Alkor repeated again.
While Dad exhaled a shuddering breath through the phone, my blood suddenly turned to ice.
He knew! Oh God, all these years, he knew I hadn’t hallucinated the gargoyle!
“You’ve come back for her... for my baby girl, haven’t you?”
“I never left,” Alkor said in the same neutral voice. “However, it is now time for me to return home to my people. But no place will ever be home without Brianna by my side.”
My throat tightened, and I pressed myself against him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gently kissed my forehead.
I didn’t know what to think anymore, or how to feel. In the months that had followed the crash, Father had done everything to convince me I’d imagined the winged creature that had saved us. He’d insisted that demons didn’t save people, they killed them. If I kept telling crazy stories, the doctors would put me in the crazy house with all the other crazies. He’d been correct, of course. Had he told the cops a demon-looking creature had dragged us out of the wreckage, he would have ended up in the loony bin with me right beside him.
“Is… Is that payment for…?”
“NO!” I exclaimed. “No, Dad. Alkor gave me a choice. I am going with him of my own free will. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Brianna’s happiness is paramount to me,” Alkor said gently. “Taking her by force would defeat that purpose. Not to mention that my people would execute me for committing such a terrible crime.”
My father exhaled noisily again. My heart ached for him, for us. Despite the distance between us, seeing him again had always been a short flight away. There would be no more opportunities going forward.
“You… you will protect her, like you did that day, right? You’ll keep my baby safe?”
“With my life. Now and always,” Alkor pledged. “This, I, Alkor Drayvus, swear to you, Mr. Brent.”
“When... When are you leaving?” Father asked, his voice defeated.
“As soon as we hang up, we will head for the rendezvous point where his people will pick us up,” I said, remaining vague for all of our sakes.
“I love you, pumpkin. I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. You made me the strong woman I am today. I love you, too, Dad. Promise me you’ll be happy.”
“Only if you promis
e me the same.”
“I promise,” I said with a teary giggle.
“Farewell, Mr. Brent,” Alkor said.
“Farewell, son,” Father said. “Thank you for saving my girl. For saving us.”
“It has been my honor,” Alkor replied.
“Goodbye, pumpkin. Spare your old man a thought from time to time.”
“I will. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you.”
With seven days left before the rescue’s arrival, we left the motel in a one-way rental car. The tinted window allowed us to complete the seven-and-a-half-hour drive to Footner Lake in our normal appearance, thus avoiding wasting energy on both Alkor’s suit and the perception filter. Only once we approached the gas station in High Level, a short distance from the Footner Lake High Level Airport, did he turn on his armor’s camouflage while I activated my male disguise. I stopped to fill the tank, and opened the passenger door to let Alkor stealth out before pretending to clean a mess on the dashboard.
Although I couldn’t see him, he flew alongside the vehicle until I reached my destination.
“Hello, my name is Mr. Peters. I have a reservation,” I said out loud, testing my male voice one last time in the car.
My stomach fluttering with stress, I carefully pawed at the voice modulator plastered on my throat. A black turtleneck sweater hid it in case I needed to deactivate my disguise. Taking in a deep breath, I picked up my black, leather, travel bag which Alkor had bought in town, and stepped out of the car. I walked up to the National Car Rental service counter and handed over the keys for their inspection. To my relief, the clerk didn’t seem to find anything off about me.
I entered the airport’s terminal, paid the fare, and was driven to the lake a short distance away where my hydroplane awaited me. I hated not having Alkor by my side, but this time, having a free hand, he texted me that all was well while I waited to board the plane.
Already feeling tired after that long drive, I feared falling asleep during the less than two hour flight to Virginia Falls Waterdrome in the Northwest Territories. Thankfully, the breathtaking view of the untamed Canadian wilderness kept me wide-eyed. The pilot, a charming man in his late forties, also played tour guide during the flight. As we landed, I kicked myself for all the wonders of my own country I’d never taken the time to discover, too busy being… busy.