Karak Warrior: An Alien Shifter Sci-Fi Romance (Alien Shapeshifters Book 2)
Page 4
Well at least he was honest. I guess that came with the territory for a race that could read each other's minds. No secrets.
"You have not answered my question, Leslie."
Before I could, there was a groaning sound deep from within the ship. Jerix's eyes widened just before we were both thrown sideways into the bulkhead. My head struck hard and stars flashed across my eyes, fake ones, bright ones, not the real ones outside the cockpit window.
And then the ship seemed to elongate in space, stretched like the taffy in Andy's General Store. There was a ripping sound, or a ripping sensation, it was difficult to tell in that moment, and then the ship roared with energy, a surging tempest swirling around the cocoon of our ship, and just as quickly as it began it was over.
I slumped to my knees on the floor, attempting to blink away my dizziness. Jerix sprawled a short distance away, rolling over onto his back and wincing. His leg bent unnaturally; it looked like he had two knees, one closer to his ankle. I almost vomited as I realized what it was.
And then Jerix shifted, atoms flying apart chaotically, but instead of shifting into his Karak form he shifted back into his human body, this time with an intact leg. He stood, extending it to test how it felt. He did that with his arms next, the muscle and veins rippling in the artificial light of the spacecraft.
"Now that would make a neat party trick," I said, getting to my feet. Jerix was there instantly, holding one of my arms and looking into my face with concern.
"Are you okay? Are you injured anywhere that requires healing?"
I waved him off, even though he was a comforting sense of strength. "Nothing hurt but my pride, I think." I shook my head, which failed to dispel the flashes of light still stuck in my vision. "What was that?"
Jerix took a deep breath. "That was the cross-galaxy drive initiating."
"Sounds fancy."
"We are traveling between your Milky Way Galaxy and the galaxy which houses the Karak homeworld," he explained. "We cannot halt this part of the journey until reaching the other side."
I realized what he was saying.
"So... it's too late to drop me off then, huh?" I flashed what I hoped was a charming smile. "Unless you do intend to toss me out the airlock."
"There are no airlocks on this craft," Jerix said without emotion.
"Guess I'm along for the ride, then."
"I guess you are along for the ride," he repeated, voice heavy with meaning.
A thousand giddy jokes popped into my head: are we there yet? and, got a deck of cards? and, where do I go to the bathroom on this thing? But all I could do was smile at Jerix, my friend and companion.
And alien. He was also an alien. That part was important to remember. The alien part.
Because I wasn't in Elijah, Wyoming anymore. In all likelihood I never would be back again. And that realization didn't even scare me.
I was going to Karak, an alien planet. I was going to have an adventure.
4
JERIX
She was going to be executed.
Leslie was correct that the Karak had strict rules regarding the treatment of alien species, intelligent or otherwise. Scouts on a tour could not kill a member of an intelligent species, even to save their own life. Arix could have ripped the atoms from Max and Liam Jones' bodies as easily as tearing tissue paper, yet to do so would have been a grave dishonor an order of magnitude worse than abandoning his vows and mating with Joanna. Such a restriction was what made being a Karak scout so difficult, and required us to be as careful and fastidious as possible when exploring strange planets.
But things were different within the Dominion itself.
Life was still precious. Indeed, intelligent life was savored among our people, especially the fragile intelligent life that had not yet been folded into the Dominion. But intelligence came with a price.
Primitive animals could be collected and placed in enclosures, much like earth zoos. The rabbit in my cargo hold did not care if it was on earth or Karak, so long as it had food and shelter and the ability to spread its genetic material. It was simple to keep. Simple to please.
Intelligent species were complex.
Over the millions of years of Karak exploration, time and time again intelligent species were brought to Karak before they were ready, and time and time again they suffered. Beings went insane from being thrust into a place so foreign; paradoxically, their brains were too intelligent to handle such a change. The bipedal cat-like species of Andromeda 2B scratched the walls of their homes until their fingers were bloody and worn. The lupine warriors of the Wolvae star system became rabid with fear, and attempted to attack--and kill!--any Karak that drew near. It did not matter what luxuries or accommodations were made for these creatures. In each case they went insane soon after arriving in the Dominion of Planets.
Karak methodology had changed over time to slowly introduce new species into new situations, to allow them to become acclimated. A little bit at a time, slowly apportioned out until they could handle the full reality of the universe. And the process always began on the species' home planet, a familiar base upon which they could build. Over years and decades they would be prepped with additional information and contact, and eventually allowed to visit faraway systems. Even then there was an occasional species which did not acclimate enough, and lashed out with madness, but generally the process was adequate over several centuries.
Leslie had known about the Karak for fourteen earth days.
It was cruel to bring such an intelligent animal to Karak, only to allow it to slowly go insane. And sending it back to earth after it had seen Karak technology--even something as simple as our planet's orbital ring--was equally cruel. Too often they went mad with remembrance of what they'd seen, the technological impossibility clashing chaotically with their own view of their world.
Karak policy was to euthanize such individuals.
It was the kinder way.
"So how much longer?" Leslie asked, a smile popping onto her face.
It cut me like a knife. My Karak consciousness accepted what would happen to her immediately, but my human self felt queasy. Upset. It wanted to rage against the Karak policy, to demand Leslie not be euthanized. To protect this woman who I knew.
This woman for whom I care.
The realization was an equally strong knife-stab. I cared for Leslie, had grown fond of her during my time on earth. It was easy to ignore when I was leaving the planet, but here she was, in my ship, returning home with me.
I could no longer ignore it.
And in that moment, possessing a human body with human emotions, I gave in to my weakness.
"I need a drink," I said, shifting the atoms in the air of my cockpit until they formed a glass like one in Harry's bar back in Elijah, Wyoming. I shifted more atoms--which were replenished easily by the life support systems recycling nitrogen-oxygen into the ship--until I had approximately a liquid amount of ethanol-alcohol to fill the glass.
I gripped it in my hand and tossed back the clear liquid, and then coughed violently.
"Woah now," Leslie said, putting a hand on my back. Her touch felt soft and right. "You okay there buddy?"
"It's so different."
"Yeah, I dunno what you conjured up there with your alien hocus-pocus, but it looked a bit stronger than beer."
Warmth spread in my chest, unnatural and illogical since the liquid was room-temperature, but then the alcohol was hitting my blood and I stopped caring.
I gave Leslie a long, deep look. I knew little of the human idea of beauty, but the shape of Leslie's body stirred something in my sex. Thighs that were strong instead of traditionally beautiful, with wide hips like the curve of a Karak scout craft. And breasts that were full and round and begging to be touched.
I can touch her consciousness.
A loophole in my vows, my drunken mind insisted. Projecting my consciousness into hers and mating in her imagination was different than physical sex. Humans had powerful imaginat
ions, I now knew, even though it paled to what we Karak could do. And human brains were often more powerful in dreams than in the physical world.
The urge was powerful. Overwhelming. And then, before I could act on it, she spoke with lips as full as flowers.
"Why don't you be a gentleman and offer your guest a drink?" Leslie said, cocking an eyebrow. She was nervous, I could tell, but covering it up shockingly well for a human leaving her planet for the first time.
I held out the glass, then shifted more atoms into another cluster of liquid alcohol. Leslie twisted the glass and looked at it approvingly.
"I know I've used this line a few times already, but this would be the best party trick of all." She put the glass to her lips and drank it in three long gulps, and wiped her lips with an arm when she was done. "We've got religions built around that sort of thing. Whew, that's good stuff."
"I am glad it meets your approval," I said, feeling the room go crooked. She waved the glass and I shifted more alcohol from the air, which conjured a deeper smile from her depths.
"To the Karak homeworld!" she toasted, raising the glass high.
As I watched her drink, all I felt was despair.
5
LESLIE
"To the Karak homeworld!"
As I drank the strong spirits, all I felt was excitement. Any regret I'd had earlier had washed away now that I'd seen Jerix in person, had talked it out. Waiting for the moment was always worse than the moment itself. I'd learned that at a young age.
He grabbed the glass from me and made himself another drink, smaller than the first. His space-hooch was strong as hell: I could already feel it going to my head, a continuation of the beers I'd had earlier.
"We will arrive in the Karak system three days from now," he said after his second drink.
"So, uhh." I looked around. "Where do I sleep?"
"I can make your crate more comfortable."
"Nuh uh," I said, waving a hand. "There's no way I'm sleeping back there with the livestock. I may have been born in a barn, but I sure as hell don't sleep in one now."
Jerix ran a hand through his hair in a human emotion that, on anyone else, I would have thought was nervousness. On him it only looked hot, showing off the muscle in his arm.
He focused his gaze--for a long moment, probably thanks to the alcohol--and the air coalesced once more. But instead of alcohol a small couch appeared, identical to the one in my office down to every detail--even the two inch long tear in the arm where Patrick had tried to remove his handcuffs years ago. I tried to tell Jerix it was creepy he knew the couch in my office by heart, but we had been meeting there for two weeks during his stay, and he probably had a photographic alien memory or something.
I laughed, and with the alcohol it was genuine. "Well alright then. Where do you sleep?"
He gestured at the two strange stool-chair things attached to the ground near the window. For a moment I was taken by that view again, the depth of endless stars.
"You know, this couch is a pull-out," I said, not caring that the line was cheesy or that my words were slurring.
"I will be recharging in my Karak form," Jerix said quickly, the hint of a blush touching the skin behind his dark scruff.
"Oh geez, didn't mean to make you embarrassed."
"I am not embarrassed," he said, blushing deeper.
If he were human, I would've guessed he wanted me. The awkwardness, the blushing, the bulge in his pants that told me all I needed to know. But he wasn't human, and we weren't on earth, and I hesitated three seconds too long.
Jerix shifted back into his Karak form, a kaleidoscope of light and color.
"Suit yourself."
It turns out the couch wasn't a pull-out, at least not the shifted version Jerix had created. But it was comfortable, and I was exhausted, and before I could form the words to demand he shift me some pajamas I was falling asleep.
I'll make love to him next time, the drunk part of my mind said. I decided that's exactly what I would do.
The moment my eyes closed, I was dreaming.
I knew it was a dream with that strange dream awareness. For one thing, I was suddenly wearing lingerie, red and silky against my skin. Despite being practically nude I was perfectly comfortable in the spacecraft's air. My hair was down, and felt like I'd had my first blowout in over a year.
I looked down at myself. Damn I looked good. Why couldn't I be this sexy and confident all the time?
"You look wonderful."
Jerix stood a short distance away. His shirt was lost to the universe, and the muscles in his chest and arms glistened in the dim light. He wore no belt, and his jeans hung loosely on his hips, showing off that sexy-as-hell V-line leading down to his happy place.
"So do you, cowboy."
"Is this what you want?" he asked softly, cocking his head.
"How could you tell?"
A slow smile spread across his face.
He came to me then, three long strides that crossed the worlds between us and embraced me in his arms. His lips found mine, opposite poles on a magnet pressing together with supernatural force. I opened my mouth for his tongue, which was as warm and wet as my sex, and he squeezed me tight so I couldn't think of getting away.
I don't want to get away, I thought, my body bleeding into his like hot wax.
I pulled one of my arms from his embrace to run along his chest, feeling every ridge and valley of his impossible abs. Muscles no human could possess and maintain. And my touch caused him to make a noise in his throat like a purr, so I touched lower, sliding into the waistline of his jeans.
"Ohh," he moaned into my mouth, vibrating my tongue with his.
I let my fingers linger there, brushing against his curl of pubic hair, rough fingers against his rough place. His kiss grew stronger, more demanding, and when I knew he couldn't take it anymore I reached across the gap and felt the warm flesh of his cock, hard as alien steel.
I broke the kiss and gasped. "I've dreamed of this."
"You're dreaming it right now."
And I kissed him again to banish the thought that this was only a dream.
I used my other hand to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper one tooth at a time, until finally they fell down into a heap. He wore no underwear; his full, throbbing sex stood at attention for me, and the sight of it drove me crazy with lust.
And then his thick fingers were touching my body, sliding down my belly and into my panties. He moved devastatingly slow, to the point that I was grinding up against him, urging him to move further. He rubbed his fingers into my hair, so close, so close, oh God please touch me!
And he broke the kiss to look down into my eyes, and an evil smile spread across his face.
"You're not funny," I whispered, biting his lip playfully.
He responded by giving me what I so desperately wanted. Over my clit his fingers ran, splitting into a V and running along the sides of my wet slit. I tilted back my head and moaned into the open spacecraft air, savoring the feeling of his palm rubbing against my clit while his two fingers massaged the outside of my lips.
"More?" he said, in my mind more than out loud, and I nodded like I would die if I didn't tell him yes.
One finger slid up and into my dripping pussy, just the first knuckle, then another finger. His lips went to my neck and I sighed as he nuzzled against me, nibbling down along my collar bone. I pushed down with my torso onto his fingers, begging him for more, and he obliged with gusto: he pushed up into me the way I needed, and not a millimeter more, and I let out a wail of ecstasy that echoed in our private space.
And then, as wonderfully as it felt, it wasn't enough.
"More," I moaned, grabbing a handful of his hair to pull him back up to my face. "I need more of you."
He lifted me by the thighs and dumped me backwards on the couch. Except it wasn't a couch anymore; in a dream transformation it was a bed, wide and white with a comforter as soft as clouds. I bounced on the sheets and he fell on top o
f me, smelling like musk and alcohol and peppery cologne. He held himself up by his arms, muscular pillars on either side of my body, and he looked down with a new emotion in his eyes.
Something close to love.
And I felt a bird fluttering in my chest, because it mirrored my own impulsive emotion. An impossible emotion to feel after only two weeks with this stranger, this man who wasn't a man at all. And it felt wrong, and right, and wonderful, and terrifying all at the same time.
"Make me yours," I whispered, grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him in.
In the dream the head of his cock found my hole perfectly, sliding in with magical lubrication. My walls ached with lust as his cock widened them, stretched them, filled them with his pulsing meat. His face contorted with shock, the kind of shock that someone felt the first time they experienced sex, a new world of wonder open before them.
I pulled his head to me and kissed away the shock.
And before I could give him another command he was pulling his hips back exactly like I wanted, only halfway, tender with his movement. He made love to me gently, only a few inches at a time, allowing me to relax and grow accustomed to his foreign touch.
Then he moved more steadily, the raw pleasure I felt within him demanding he fuck me longer and deeper, an instinct as old as humanity itself. He pulled away from my kiss and stared down at me with lust, and we looked into each other's eyes, truly seeing one another for the first time.
His breathing increased as I gyrated my hips against him. He moved one meaty hand down to run along my thigh, feeling my curves, then gripping me hard to guide me. And the way he touched me was something I felt everywhere, not just in my body but in my soul and mind, oh God he was in my mind so completely, it was like we were one person sharing the same tangle of flesh.
My breathing grew rapid to match his, and our paces increased in tempo, him thrusting hard and desperate while I made love to him with my hips. His eyes opened wide and light seemed to appear there, shining so brightly that it blinded everything around us, and the light was warm and pleasurable wherever it touched my skin. Soon I was roaring along with him, a noise that began deep within my chest and grew in intensity, and I felt the waves of my orgasm crash over me right as Jerix thrust his final, ecstasy-filled thrusts.