She hurried between two counters and randomly yanked out a test sample. The control DNA she’d altered last week had failed to replicate without the Boktai chromosomes, the result exactly the same as the week before. She’d hoped that he’d provide her a space in which to do her work—after all, he’d brought her on the mission for her expertise. But she was amazed that he’d saved her work on Boktai when he hadn’t even known what it was.
She spun around on the balls of her feet to face him. “Why did you . . . ?”
He shrugged as if unaware how oddly he’d acted. “You said your work was important to you.”
“I never imagined . . .”
He’d saved her work. Precious years of research. DNA mutations that showed promise. It was all here. Every cell. Every line. Every chain. Some of her experiments had taken months to grow and couldn’t be duplicated without very specific genes she’d culled from rare mutations and had spliced into the DNA strands. She’d been especially hopeful of a few recent variations in the genetic coding on an aging chromosome. Being forced to leave them all behind had been almost as bad as when she’d lost her home during the terrorist attack. But he’d saved them—for no reason that would do him any good that she could discern. Her DNA research on Boktai had absolutely nothing to do with accomplishing his mission to find a cure for the virus. While her laboratory equipment would help his mission, he’d made room for her experiments, which was for her sake alone. If an Endekian male had acted with such kindness, she would have been suspicious that he wanted something in return.
But Xander’s eyes twinkled, and a corner of his mouth turned into a smile, as if he’d enjoyed making her happy. “Maki helped move everything. She assured us that your samples would live.”
“Oh . . . my . . . stars.” She bit her tongue to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and had the oddest impulse to hug the big Rystani. She couldn’t go that far off kilter. “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever done anything like this on my behalf.”
He grinned wider, clearly pleased that his surprise had delighted her. When his demeanor was stern, his stubborn jaw and sharp cheekbones reminded her he was a warrior. But when he grinned, he seemed less combative, more approachable, more likable.
Even his tone mellowed. “It seemed a common courtesy to take your work with us.”
“Even though you have no need for my research?”
He nodded. “I would never have forced you from your home against your will if the need hadn’t been so urgent.”
“Hmm. I think you enjoyed manhandling me,” she teased, and appreciated how his pupils darkened with violet and deep scarlet sparks.
“I can’t deny you are a pleasant handful.”
She thought he might reach for her, draw her into his arms, and she wouldn’t have objected. The big man had gentle hands and an easy touch. He’d stroked her skin with care, as if she’d been made of delicate cloth. But he didn’t touch her. Instead, he gestured to her lab equipment. “This is my way of making up for some of your inconvenience.”
“Words alone cannot express my thanks.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. He’d saved her work. A stranger had thought more of her research than her own people.
Without stopping to think, she flung herself into his arms, embraced him. She was pleased when his arms closed around her. Tilting back her head, she raised her lips to his and tugged his mouth down to hers.
His eyes widened with surprise, sparked hotter with passion. She might have made the first move, but he didn’t hesitate to angle his mouth over hers, taking all she offered. Oh, stars, could the Rystani kiss. Her head swam, her breath raced, and her heart leaped.
When his powerful arms gathered her closer, when her chest pressed against his heat, when her hips cradled his pelvis, when his powerful thighs met with hers, she wondered why the big Rystani made her feel so free.
When she finally pulled back for air, her lips tingled, and her blood smoldered. As if knowing exactly how much he appealed to her, he teased her, his words soft and goading. “If you would like to thank me in another way, I would not object.”
From the heat in his gaze, he could mean only one thing. He wanted sex. Or did he? After that kiss, she supposed he had every right to think she would give him more. Heart pounding, breath hitching in her chest, she wondered why she’d felt compelled to kiss him and why she’d enjoyed herself so much. Her cells were not in need of regeneration. Yet her pulse had escalated, and her blood still hummed.
Careful to keep her voice on an even keel, she cocked her head to the side. “How else can I thank you?”
His eyes burned with a violet-red glow. He obviously had known exactly what she’d been thinking—that she wasn’t ready to mate again. The arrogant man seemed to enjoy keeping her off balance. “Share dinner with me.”
“Of course. Where?”
“In my cabin, if that is acceptable to you.”
His cabin. She had so little understanding of Rystani culture, since they’d been an enemy for so long. What she had heard about Rystan was likely government propaganda, since what she’d learned so far was that as fierce and stubborn as Xander could be, he was also kind and open-minded.
“Where will I sleep?” she asked, curious about how she’d fit in with the Verazen’s crew. They were all so different from her. She’d met few offworlders in her time, but after encountering Clarie and Xander’s bridge crew, she couldn’t wait to explore the other cultures on board.
Xander pointed to an area near the back of her lab. “I’ve had quarters set up for you behind that panel. There isn’t a lot of space . . .”
Alara walked to the nearest countertop and lovingly ran her hands on the slick surface, wondering what new experiments she could devise in space—what new discoveries she might make if she explored the many different strains of DNA on the ship.
“I do not need more space to sleep. When the Boktai comes again, I will simply go to the cabin of a crewman.”
“Crewman?”
His eyes blazed, and Alara instantly recognized the proprietary flash. “I cannot mate with you again, Xander. The act could reset my cell regeneration process. I will adapt to you.”
“Good.” The tension didn’t leave him, but his eyes softened a tad.
He didn’t understand. She’d taken Boktai for granted for so long—assuming that all males understood the urges and the consequences—that she had trouble explaining what to her people was simply the way things were. Fear iced down her spine. The Rystani were so different. Would he ever accept her ways?
“After my cells adapt specifically to yours, if I go to anyone else for regeneration, I will die.”
“Stars.” He swore under his breath, staring at her as if she were a monster from one of the five seas of Jarn.
“You haven’t even heard the worst part.” She figured she might as well reveal the rest, before he again judged her wrongly. Before her mouth turned so dry she couldn’t speak, she forced out the words. She drilled home her meaning. “If by chance you should expire, I would die within two weeks of your death.”
At the implication, he paled in shock. As if she might actually lie about something so terrible, he wore a suspicious look, his skin tone changing from his normal healthy bronze to a sickly shade of grayish white. “Are you certain?”
“As certain as death itself. My father died in a Terran terrorist attack. My mother and I survived the bombing, protected from the explosion in an underground lab. But since my parents had been married for thirty years, my mother’s biology had adapted to her husband’s. Over time her body changed until only my father’s essence could regenerate her cells. I delivered her to the Goddess one week after my father’s death.”
He remained silent a moment as if digesting her terrible news. Finally, a bit of bronze returned to his face. “How long does it take for your cells
to adapt?”
“I don’t know. Everyone is different.”
“How many times can we . . .”
She shrugged, ignoring the tingle of her kiss-swollen lips. “You aren’t listening. Sometimes adaptation can take several months, other times years.”
“You should be fine. Hopefully our voyage won’t take—”
“Since I am the first Endeki woman to leave our world, I cannot give you an exact timetable. But your essence is strong.” She raised her hand to her lips—never had a kiss left her trembling inside. His lovemaking had impacted her deeply on the most basic cellular level. “Just a few more ‘encounters’ with you might cause my cells to adapt.”
At her uncertainty, she expected to see obvious disgust cross his features and steeled herself against his reaction. No doubt he considered her unsuitable for permanent mating—for marriage. Not that she’d ever consider the option, but she knew enough about the Rystani to expect he could never comprehend the ways of her people. Yes, she hated the Boktai and had devoted her life to reversing thousands of years of evolution, but she also accepted that she could not escape the way she was raised. If he’d given her a chance to explain before he’d taken her from Endeki, perhaps he would have chosen differently. But now she was stuck on the Verazen—without power, they couldn’t even turn back—with only alien men to choose from when she entered Boktai again.
He held out his hand to her, almost like a peace offering, his eyes determined. “Stars. I have never heard of such things. But somehow, we will work out your problem. Perhaps one of our scientists—”
“Please.” His gentle compassion was almost worse than when he’d been glaring at her. He couldn’t understand how much she detested her own biology. How much she hated when she turned into a woman who would do anything for a man in exchange for regeneration. “I don’t want everyone to know about my biology. I don’t want them to look at me with loathing . . . or pity.”
“Or lust?”
She winced. No, not with lust. Not when she knew the wanting spawned simply from knowing she would comply—not because of who she was as a person, as a woman.
She raised her chin and pulled back her shoulders. “Now you understand why my work is so important. Women should not have to live like Endekian women do. Our men need not treat their wives well and frequently don’t. Why should they? Once our cells adapt, we cannot leave our mates or divorce, or we die. We cannot withhold pleasure. We are slaves to our biology.”
He cocked his head to one side and kept his tone even, almost light. “Rystani also wed for life. We have this in common. But we do treat our women with more value. So perhaps we are not so different after all.”
He kept his hand out, his offer of companionship still open. She finally placed her hand in his. When his fingers closed around hers in a gentle grip, she squeezed back, the gesture almost natural.
She couldn’t recall ever holding a man’s hand before, at least of her own inclination. But then she’d most certainly never kissed a man without Boktai driving her hormones. She looked at him and could see he was pleased and wondered if they might yet become friends. She’d never had a male friend. She’d never considered the idea until this moment, and though the ship’s power situation seemed dire, she couldn’t suppress a burgeoning hope for her future.
They shared a pleasant meal in his quarters, and that night when he didn’t even try to press his attentions on her, she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. After that sizzling kiss in her laboratory, she wouldn’t have minded another. Or cuddling. Touching Xander’s body was always a pleasure. She adored the heat of his skin, his toned muscles, his exotic male scent. But most of all, she liked watching his eyes spark as he heated up right with her.
During their kiss, she couldn’t miss his carefully checked desire. He might have had her just last night, but clearly, physically, he’d been ready again. Yet he’d held back. Perhaps her words had given him pause. He might not like the idea of her body adapting to his. Why would he? He’d been given no choice but to mate with her—and as he explained, Rystanis mated for life. This warrior took his responsibilities seriously, and she thought it likely he wouldn’t want to hold her life and her future in his hands.
The next morning, they were sharing a light breakfast in her lab when Vax’s voice came over the com. “Captain.”
“Yes?”
“The security chief says that Clarie’s awake.”
He tossed his plate into the refresher. “I’m on the way to the shuttle bay. I want you, Shannon, and Cyn to meet us there.”
“We’re leaving the bridge right now.”
As he and Alara hurried to the shuttle bay, Xander queried the computer, his tone professional. “Ranth, what have you got for me? Have you learned anything new about our guest or his ship’s power?”
“Captain, I have nothing. Either no one in the Federation has ever come across his species or his type of ship, or they haven’t lived to report it.”
“Are you saying Clarie’s dangerous?” Xander’s tone didn’t change. He sounded more curious than alarmed.
“I’m saying he’s an . . . unknown.”
“Ranth,” Alara asked, “have you ever come across biology like Clarie’s or his ship’s before?”
“My brain is a combination of living cells and matter, but Clarie and his ship are totally organic. Scans of his anatomy have registered a peculiar arrangement of biological and physiological structures whose functions require more study before I can even hazard—”
“Ranth, save the science.” Xander opened a hatch for her. “We require helpful information. I want answers. Where did that ship come from? What powers it? Are we in danger from the same thing that required us to rescue it?”
“We don’t have enough data for me to answer those questions.”
“Keep on it,” Xander instructed.
Alara and Xander met with Shannon, Cyn, and Vax at the shuttle bay hatch. “I’ve asked everyone to join me because communicating with Clarie is difficult. Since we’re all from different worlds, I’m hoping one of us will be able to get through to him.”
Vax’s hand went to his stunner. “If he’s refusing to cooperate—”
“He’s not.” Xander shook his head, and Vax released his grip on the stunner. “At least, I don’t believe so.”
“Talking to Clarie’s like speaking to a child,” Alara explained. “He doesn’t appear aware of the ramifications or implications of his statements, and he only replies at a very basic level.”
“But his ship is constructed of a sophisticated material unlike anything in Federation space.” Xander turned to Cyn. “Ranth said power radiated from the hull. It came from somewhere. We need to find the source and adapt it to our needs.” Xander stepped onto the ramp leading into the alien ship. “It seems odd that his technology is so advanced we can’t even determine the nature of his systems, yet his mind is so simple, he can’t communicate fully. Something doesn’t feel right.”
10
Xander’s grand gesture to save Alara’s work, followed by his inclusion of her in the discussion with his supervising officers, made Alara feel valued and part of the team. Too often, she’d kept her ideas to herself when in the presence of male colleagues, all too certain whatever she offered would be frowned upon—if anyone listened at all. With Cyn and Shannon both well-respected female crew members, Alara believed that if her suggestions weren’t taken seriously, it wouldn’t be due to her sex.
Looking forward to their next encounter with Clarie, Alara approached the alien ship with Xander, Vax, Cyn, and Shannon. Security covered them from a distance, and the shiny spherical ship appeared exactly the same as they’d left it, with the hatch open, the ramp rolled out.
As if sensing their presence, Clarie shuffled down the ramp, stroking Delo, its fur still a soft shade of brown.
Xander made the introductions between Clarie and his crew, who comported themselves like the professionals they were.
“Captain, you require power?” Clarie surprised Alara by bringing up the subject they wanted to talk about most. While they spoke, she again checked out his DNA, fascinated by the complexity of his makeup and the absence of any DNA in Delo.
“Yes, we need power.” Xander nodded, and Alara’s hopes rose. Surely Clarie wouldn’t have mentioned the power problem if he didn’t understand their needs and didn’t plan to help.
Clarie lifted Delo onto his rounded shoulder. The animal clung to his robe with tight prehensile fingers, his bushy tail winding up the back of Clarie’s head and stroking a fragile antenna. “Why do you need power?”
Cyn jerked her thumb back toward the Verazen’s engines. “Come with us to engineering, and I’ll show you.”
Clarie ignored Cyn and spoke to Xander. “What is interesting in engineering?”
“It’s the ship section that houses our engines, which powers us through hyperspace and that we will use to brake us at the journey’s end. Without power to jump from hyperspace, we cannot go to Lapau.”
Alara liked the way Xander didn’t talk down to Clarie, but used simple words. He seemed to also believe that they had a communication problem and that Clarie must be more intelligent than he seemed.
“Why go across the galaxy to Lapau?” Clarie asked.
Across the galaxy? His statement implied he knew of the system. Alara exchanged a glance with Xander, and from his expression, she realized he’d caught the implications, too.
“You know of Lapau?” Alara asked, but Clarie didn’t answer her, either.
Except—Clarie’s DNA glowed. Glowed bright as the sun.
No sooner had she thought to use her psi to filter the light from her suit than she stumbled. One moment they’d been walking from the shuttle bay toward engineering, the next, Vax, Xander, Clarie, Cyn, and Shannon were finishing their steps in the middle of a busy market.
The Ultimatum Page 14