Only Damon, the black sheep brother, the wild one, had supported her need to spread her wings. Which was why he was her favorite sibling.
“Bria? Cheri to Bria.” Her friend snapped her fingers in front of Bria’s face. “What’s wrong? You spaced out on me. Are you still worrying about Jotak?”
“Just thinking the wine was probably made from my family’s grapes.” Her lips twisted slightly. “Was homesick for a second.”
Bria frowned and considered her friend’s question. Was part of her distraction centered on her scary stalker? Yes—it was. A constant niggling in the part of her she now recognized as Prime was telling her the only good Dornian was a dead Dornian—because then, and only then, would she be safe.
“Bria?” Cheri reached to touch her arm. “I don’t like that look. What’s wrong?”
“Jotak will continue to be a problem.”
“You can’t know that,” Cheri quite logically pointed out. “V’niko sounded certain the Alliance Military would ship him to Tooh 10 for trial.”
“But he isn’t gone…yet.” Bria shivered and immediately thought of the ancient Terran saying about a goose walking over a person’s grave. Graves, not a good thought. “I’ll feel better tomorrow after we give our statements and he is arrested.”
She picked up her fork and began to eat the seafood risotto she’d ordered. “As for your other question? Lia told me the Prime have a detailed bond mark database only accessible to Prime researchers and certain members of the Elder Council. Once we’re on Prime soil, I should have access to the database for our research. I’ll run my marking to find my match.”
“And what if your gemat died during the siege of the planet?” Cheri’s voice was soft as she asked the question which, at one time, had haunted Bria.
But Bria knew he was alive—and had no logical way to explain that certainty to Cheri or even herself.
“Then I’ll mourn the man I never knew. Find my birth father and my gemat’s birth parents, if they are alive, and add them to my extended family. And…” She looked Cheri in the eye. “…go on to prove that a Prime woman who has lost a mate—or one who has never been marked—is still a woman who can have a full family life with a husband and children.”
“Oh boy,” Cheri murmured and took a large gulp of her wine. “The Prime are never gonna know what hit them, are they?”
“No. I plan to set years of myopic cultural precedent on its ear.” She picked up a flaky dinner roll, buttered it, and then took a decisive bite. “The era of a paternalistic council of elders dictating who can mate with whom due to some neurochemical, adaptive markings is over. The Prime can’t afford to keep any fertile Prime male or female from breeding with other Prime—or with other compatible hominids.”
“I hope the lab on Cejuru Prime has good security,” muttered Cheri as she fiddled with her silverware. “Remember the saying about ‘killing the messenger?’”
“Yeah, I know.” She shoved her fingers through her hair. “But they have no choice—the Prime race is dying. They’ve had less than zero population growth for the last decade according to the statistical reports. Their population is aging, and the men and women who are young enough to have children aren’t allowed to do so unless they have compatible markings. And all that is on top of the fertility and miscarriage issues with mated Prime women, which might be the easier issue to fix in the short term. But long term—”
”They’ll still lose ground unless they mate outside the marking,” Cheri completed the thought.
Bria and her team had had this same conversation many, many times since the Prime joined the Alliance and Bria’s team had been assigned to help the Prime solve their population growth issues. The fact there were still some Luddites among the Prime population—the most dangerous among them, the Pure Blood faction—wouldn’t stop Bria from doing her job.
In an unspoken agreement, the two shifted topics and discussed anything but Jotak, Pure Bloods, Prime population growth, or Bria’s gemat, while they enjoyed the rest of their meal.
It was only later, as Bria tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed, that her thoughts turned once again toward her mate.
This wasn’t the first time her sleep had been disturbed with thoughts of her unknown gemat, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Because it was dark and quiet, with no one around and nothing to distract her, she wondered: Was he a scientist like her, or a warrior who’d appreciate his gemate being a battle-mate? Would she be a disappointment to him with her lack of fighting skills?
Most importantly—would he love her?
Because she knew she would love him. He would be her heart’s desire, the one man who’d make her heart sing and her soul melt.
When she’d first discovered she was Prime and had somewhat gotten over the initial shock, it was as if a light had turned on inside her. She knew her gemat was alive and somewhere in the galaxy.
This knowledge defied all her training as a scientist, as a doctor. While she could explain the gemat-gemate marking as a biological adaptive response to supremely compatible body chemistries and would in time explain why the markings first appeared, there was also—all scientific logic aside—an inexplicable spiritual aspect involved with the mating bond. She knew this because she’d experienced it…was still experiencing it.
The Terrans called such spiritual bonding between a man and a woman, soul mates.
Neither concept—the gemat-gemate spiritual bonding or Terran soul mates—could be isolated, weighed, measured, or replicated. They just were. And even with all her scientific knowledge, she could still accept that—sometimes, certain things must be accepted on faith.
Soon, she would meet her gemat. She hoped he liked her.
Chapter 3
The next morning
Her statement to the Alliance authorities completed, Bria cut across the platform of the commuter shuttle station on her way back to the hotel.
As V’niko had predicted, an immediate arrest warrant had been issued for Jotak. V’niko, along with two military police officers, went to the laboratory to take Jotak into custody. A’nan had accompanied Cheri to the lab so she could inform the rest of their team what had happened and to carry on until it was safe for Bria to join them.
Bria had wanted to go with A’nan and Cheri, but V’niko put his foot down. When she’d worried aloud that Cheri could be in danger until Jotak was in custody, V’niko had said, “You are his primary target. Cheri is less than nothing to him, a minor irritant. You are his obsession. Your presence endangers anyone and everyone around you. I will come for you when he can no longer harm you.”
So, here she was, wending her way through hundreds of people as they waited for commuter trains. The place was noisy and alive with conversations and the rumbling of the trains. With so many people surrounding her, her empathic abilities went on overload. To alleviate a suddenly pounding headache, she put up the mental shields she’d taught herself at an early age.
Because of the shields, the attack came as a surprise.
Strong arms surrounded her from behind. Her first thought was—How did Jotak find me? Her second was—Oh shit.
Her third was to struggle against his cruel grip. His arms tightened like a boa constrictor until she couldn’t breathe, until her bones threatened to break. Yet she still tried to free herself, kicking at his legs and clawing at his forearms.
Jotak shook her. “You made a bad mistake last night, mehina.” His words were a low snarl against her ear.
With a vicious tug, he pulled her against his body and rubbed his erection over her bottom. She stilled and barely breathed, afraid of exciting him even more.
To the other commuters, they would appear to be lovers. But if anyone looked closely, they’d find otherwise. She had to look terrified, because she was. She inhaled deeply, opened her mouth, then—
“If you scream, I will kill that little girl.” He lifted one hand and pointed to a blonde-haired cherub with a backpack who held her mother’s hand. �
�Nod if you understand.”
Bria complied. She couldn’t allow him to harm innocents. V’niko’s assessment that Jotak would harm others to attain his target had been one hundred percent correct. She hoped she’d live long enough to tell him so.
Jotak shifted her to his left side, his arm around her shoulders in a vice-like hold, pinning her to him. His right hand hovered over his sidearm.
Bria rapidly examined and rejected maneuvers that would allow her to escape without resulting in harm to others. There weren’t any. She’d have to allow him to lead her away from the crowded train platform to a more isolated area.
Once away from the crowds, she’d do her best to get away, even if she died doing so.
“Don’t try anything. It would be very foolish, mehina.” He murmured the words over her ear, then lightly bit the lobe and licked away the blood he’d drawn with his fang-like teeth.
Everything in her cringed at his touch. She pulled her head away from his mouth, afraid he’d bite her again, and this time inject a light dose of his neurotoxin in order to paralyze her.
“And never, ever, move away from my touch. Soon, I will kiss and bite every creamy, golden millimeter of your body. I will build your immunity to my toxins. Once you are resistant to the side effects, I will plant my seed in you.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaled, then shuddered with pleasure against her. “You are ripe. My seed will take. You will give me strong sons.”
Never. She gulped, swallowing the sickness threatening to come up her throat.
Dig deep. Unleash the battle-mate power.
She was stronger than she thought—and always had been—but had been too scared of the power to use it, even when she hadn’t known what it was. It made her “different.” She’d inadvertently tapped into the deep, dark energy well as a young adult—to horrible results. She’d broken a taunting playmate’s bones and, another time, gave Damon a concussion when he ordered her not to date a boy she liked. Terrified of her aberrant power, she built thick walls to contain the energy, walls very similar to the shields she erected to keep others’ emotions and feelings out of her mind. And even then, she hoped and prayed she’d never, ever have to call upon it.
Yesterday, she hadn’t tapped into what she’d always thought of as her dark side to escape Jotak, hadn’t even thought about it. But that was then. Today, the will to survive flooded her mind and body as the walls around her latent core of strength cracked.
As Jotak led her into a less crowded area of the station plaza, her more primitive side took control. The power surged forth as if it were happy to be free. It bubbled through her blood, warming her, giving her the strength and courage to take matters into her own hands. And as it warmed her from the inside out, she recognized it for what it was. Her innate Prime DNA was coming to the fore. She was becoming a battle-mate.
She’d feel more confident of success if she had some fighting skills or a weapon—a knife or even the scalpel she’d used against Jotak yesterday in the lab. But as a doctor, she usually didn’t go about armed in public.
Her Prime genetics dictated she was meant to be a warrior. But she didn’t feel like one. Hadn’t been trained to be one. And now was probably not the best time to figure out how to be one—or, more importantly, how to balance her warrior nature with her profession.
“Good, Brianna.” Jotak’s purr of pleasure at her seeming acquiescence pissed her off.
Her primal energy pushed and shoved, wanting to explode, to blast the smug asshole. It was getting harder and harder to keep the almost sentient energy under control.
Patience. One thing Bria was sure of, if she acted too soon, she could fail. The element of surprise—and her intelligence—were her best assets at this point.
The pressure to act backed off. Well, at least, she had control over her power, that had to account for something. That way, she wouldn’t shoot her energy wad too soon.
As they traveled further away from the commuter station, she scanned the area, looking for the best spot to make her move. If her memory was correct, there was a local law enforcement facility about five hundred meters east of their current position. If she could break away at the right moment and make it there, she’d be safe. She’d make sure the locals knew there was a warrant out for Jotak’s arrest. He couldn’t mesmerize a whole station of police officers.
With a course of action set in her mind, Bria forced herself to relax even more within Jotak’s hold.
In response, he loosened his painful grip on her shoulder. Her lips twisted with satisfaction. He thought she’d bowed to his will. Sucker.
She bided her time as they ate up the meters toward her goal. Her body hummed with pent-up energy. She took deep, slow breaths, oxygenating her blood for the fight. Her senses were alert to Jotak’s every move, every breath, every noise.
When he turned to move in the opposite direction from the precinct building, she acted. She weakened her knees. As she became dead weight, Jotak’s arm fell away from her shoulders completely.
Before he could even growl or grab her, she whirled away from him.
Damn, she’d moved too far. His body was angled in such a way that his balls were out of the reach of her knee and even her foot.
With no time to think, and fearing she couldn’t outrun him, she resorted to her knowledge of Dornian anatomy. When he tried to grab her with his dominant hand, she leaned in—surprising him—grabbed his elbow and pinched a nerve, causing his arm to go numb so he couldn’t take hold of her. She kicked his knee and then spun out of reach once more.
He roared. The noise stabbed at her senses like a thousand needles.
Shit, all she’d done was piss him off worse. She kept moving backward. Her gaze never left his angry face, even though all she wanted to do was drop to the ground, curl into a ball, and moan at the pain caused by his sounds of rage.
If he caught her now, he’d hurt her, but he wouldn’t kill her. He wanted her alive.
Jotak growled. “Come here. Now.” He followed his order by limping toward her as she continued to back away.
And that was his mistake.
She lunged at him and led with a punch to the sensitive space between his slitty eyes, the sweet spot where his reptile-like brain’s motor skills and respiratory functions were centered. With him temporarily stunned, she followed up with a solid kick to his balls.
Jotak fell to the ground like a shuttlecraft losing power in heavy air.
Then Bria turned and, pulling on her battle-mate side, raced toward the security facility.
Jotak’s gasping cries of pain and outrage echoed off the buildings. The thudding of his uneven gait seemed to shake the ground. His recovery had been too damn fast. A knife would’ve done a better job in slowing him down.
A knife would’ve done a better job of killing him.
Bria shook her head in denial. Internal philosophical debates on the ethics of taking a life would have to wait for a better time. The sound of Jotak’s wheezing breaths came ever closer.
“Brianna! Stop. You cannot escape me.”
She was sure going to try. But it would be close. She could almost feel his breath on her neck.
Then the most chilling, most beautiful sound she’d ever heard filled the air.
A Volusian battle cry.
“Keep running, Dr. Martin,” V’niko yelled and then ululated his warrior’s call to fight once more.
Bria did as she was told, but chanced a look over her shoulder as she reached the steps of the precinct building.
V’niko had tackled Jotak to the ground. Jotak tried to use his laser pistol on the Volusian, but V’niko disarmed him and threw the weapon out of Jotak’s reach. The two resorted to hand-to-hand and the use of blades. They looked to be equally matched in size and skills.
The only sure ways to kill a Dornian were cutting off his head, skewering his frontal lobe, or poisoning. Lasers didn’t penetrate the pseudo-reptile’s skin. So, V’niko was doing his best to behead Jotak. But if Jotak managed to get hi
s hands on his laser, V’niko could be hurt seriously or killed. The only thing she could do to aid V’niko was to get him backup.
So, she turned and barreled through the front door of the precinct. Bending over, she panted and pointed out the doorway. “Help…the…Volusian.”
Several uniformed officers ran out the door as a female officer came around the desk and helped Bria to a seat. “Are you hurt, madam?”
Bria shook her head and concentrated on slowing her breathing and getting her thundering heart rate under control. Her power retreated to its reservoir, where it would lay until it was called upon again. She’d proven she could summon, control, and put it away. She just needed to learn some skills on how to use it more effectively, other than girly self-defense maneuvers and running.
Several minutes later, V’niko strode into the station, followed by two of the uniforms who’d rushed out to assist him. But there was no Jotak, shackled and under arrest.
Her heart leapt into her throat. “What happened?” Her voice was still husky from her exertions.
Then she took a better look at V’niko. He was a mess. He had bruises and claw marks on his torso and face. A gash on his thickly muscled thigh. He was bleeding blue, but, thank the One, not in spurts.
Bria rose to meet him halfway, shouting over her shoulder, “Get me a medical kit.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor.” V’niko’s face was a darker shade than his normal pale blue. She let down her mental shields and read his mood as embarrassed. “The bastard got away. The other officers are tracking him now.”
Bria fought off a moment of dizziness, an after-effect of the earlier adrenaline rush and, she’d admit it, of fear. She took the kit the female officer handed her. “Sit down, V’niko, before you fall down. I need to clean your wounds. Dornian claws are filthy, even with your immunity to the toxins.”
Prime Imperative (The Prime Chronicles Book 3) Page 3