Shielder — A new Science Fiction Romance (Book 1, Shielder Series)

by Catherine Spangler

  "So you really do like mating," he murmured with masculine satisfaction.

  Oddly shy now that the mindless passion had receded, she lowered her eyes from his triumphant expression. "I told you I did."

  He chuckled softly. "Still embarrassed, after what we just did? Better get used to it, Nessa, since I'm certain we'll be doing it again very shortly."

  "We will?" She looked at him in wide-eyed surprise, not at all sure such an outburst of passion could possibly happen again so soon. "Is that what most people do when they mate?"

  Chase grinned wickedly. "Many of them do. Unless one of the partners runs away and hides in the lav—or the shower. But I don't think we'll have that problem, do you?"

  She realized he was teasing her, like he had done with the children. A giddy warmth filled her, leaving her lighthearted and playful, feelings she'd left far behind ten seasons ago. She smiled back. "Oh, I don't know. That could prove to be very interesting.”

  His eyes widened. "Why, you little tease. Come here."

  He pulled her on top of him. Her breath caught at the feel of her nipples rubbing against his chest; at the twitch and expansion of his penis against her belly. Heated need flared again, sudden and urgent.

  Chase held her face between his hands, his molten gaze sending sparks along every nerve in her body. "Do you know what happens to impudent females who tease their bed partner?"

  Her heart raced erratically as erotic images flashed through her mind. "What?"

  "This." He pulled her face down and kissed her hard, his tongue mating with hers. "And this." He turned her onto the mat, his hands moving over her body, igniting flames and leaving her breathless. "And this."

  "Are we going to mate again now?" she asked breathlessly, reeling from his sensual onslaught.

  He slid over her, settling his hardness between her legs. "What do you think?"

  A surge of feminine power, as old as the universe, thrummed through her. "I think not." She shoved against him, pushing him onto his back as she came to her knees. "Not until my terms are met. Not until I do this." She ran her tongue over one bronze nipple, emboldened by the sharp intake of his breath.

  "Do you like this?" she asked, amazed at her own audacity, yet enjoying herself immensely.

  "Yes! Oh, yes," he squealed in a mock falsetto.

  He so surprised Nessa that she laughed and hit him with the pillow.

  Chase stilled, pushing the pillow out of his face. He studied her, suddenly serious. "That's the first time I've ever heard you laugh."

  When was the last time she'd felt so joyous, so free? She couldn't remember.

  "I like hearing you laugh. Do it some more." He started tickling her.

  "No! Stop!" She tried to squirm away, but he pursued his assault relentlessly. They tussled a few minutes, Nessa laughing and gasping for breath at the same time. "Please! I surrender," she finally pleaded, her voice hoarse.

  "You surrender, do you?" he asked silkily. "So we're back to my terms, are we?"

  Taking a moment to catch her breath, she shook her head. Stroking her hand down his abdomen, she whispered, "We're back to my terms."

  Heat flamed into his eyes, and he rolled back, pulling her over him. "Since you insist, I won't argue with you. Now, where were you?"

  Passion returned with startling swiftness. "I think I was here," she whispered against his chest.

  Boldly, she ran her hands over his body, making the heady discovery he liked being touched as much as she did; that she could render him vulnerable and incoherent with her mouth and her fingers. That the power wielded in mating could indeed be a mutual give and take; a safe haven where no emotional barriers were needed.

  When both of them were about to come apart, he lifted her astraddle him. Surprised, she found herself poised over his erection. He probed the entrance to her body, and she slid down over him, sheathing him deeply. She moaned, stretching, adjusting, around him.

  His glittering eyes took her breath. "Remember what we did in the chair? Just like that, Nessa. Ride me. You're in control now. You have me at your mercy." He demonstrated what he wanted, moving her hips with his hands.

  Taking up the motion, she threw her head back, lost in sensation. Oh…yes…oh, she liked being in control…very much. Liked Chase's fevered encouragement, how he touched her everywhere as she moved on him.

  And the ensuing explosion…oh, Spirit…!

  Sometime later, when rational thought returned, she found it fascinating that the second mating could be every bit as good as the first, perhaps even better. And the shared intimacy even deeper. She cuddled against Chase, too exhausted to move. Beneath her, the sheets felt cool and damp.

  "We're sweaty," she said with some surprise.

  "Yeah, we are," he agreed, his voice laced with satisfaction. His hand slid over her breast. "We'll have to take a shower later."

  She tilted her head to look at him. "I don't know if I have enough energy."

  His eyes gleamed in the semidarkness. "Oh, you will, sweetheart. Just give me a little time to…recover. Then we'll take a long shower together."

  His unmistakably sensual meaning edged through her lethargy. "Oh, Chase, I can't possibly—"

  "Sure you can," he interrupted. "Trust me on this."

  An hour later, she found out he was right. She also discovered there were many ways of finding pleasure in a cleansing stall.

  Much later, curled in the sanctuary of Chase's arms, she acknowledged to herself that their intimacy had forged inexplicable emotional bonds. Resolutely, she prepared to sever those bonds. She'd carry the memory of this night with her always, but her time with Chase had come to an end. She could delay her mission no longer.

  After tomorrow, she'd never see him again.

  * * * *

  "How much longer until we get there?" Raven asked. She shared the seat with Nessa as they read a computer file on novas.

  "An hour, sweetness," Nessa answered, only half her attention on the girl. Tension knotted her insides as she thought about her plan.

  She looked over at Chase, who had Brand snuggled in his lap. She stared at Chase's muscular arm, wrapped securely across the boy. This gentle, nurturing side of Chase fueled the guilt already festering. But she held to her resolve, reminding herself how little time remained. So very little time. Panic reared inside her every time she thought about her crucial predicament.

  Her tension increased as they approached Odera. Chase began his usual pattern of withdrawal, mentally distancing himself in preparation for his foray on the planet. He appeared an entirely different person at these times—a frightening glimpse of the shadower he was.

  They strapped in to enter Odera's orbit. All too soon, the ship skimmed over the planet's surface. Chase brought them down on the pad with barely a tremor and cut the engines. He released his harness and stood. "Nessa, come with me."

  She rose and followed him to the hatch. He began inspecting and strapping on his weapons. "I'm securing the hatch with a new sequence, one you can't possibly decode. So don't even try. There's no public transport on Odera, if you did have passage money. I don't expect to be planetside long. If I find you gone when I return, I'll leave without you. Is that clear?"

  He acted as if last night had never happened. Perhaps it meant nothing to him. She could grow to despise this cold, indifferent side of him, Nessa thought. Only she wouldn't be around long enough. She looked into his eyes, disheartened by the hardness she found there. "Very clear, Captain."

  Where was the man whose heated touch set every nerve in her body on fire? Who had melded his body with hers, laughed and teased with her, then held her securely through the night, protecting her from the demons haunting her?

  She wanted to see that man one last time, before he turned against her for good. She lifted her hand to his face, shaping the square line of his jaw, feeling the warmth and pulse of the man.

  "Take care out there…Captain."

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. His hand covered hers and
gently squeezed it. He moved her fingers against his lips before releasing her hand. "I intend to. And you behave, Nessa. I'll be back before you know it."

  No, you won't, Chase. Good-bye. I hope you forgive me some day.

  She watched him stride through the hatch. He turned to look at her, then punched the outside control. The hatch lowered shut. A surprising moisture seeped into her eyes. Ruthlessly, she reminded herself of all that depended upon her success. She couldn't dwell on her feelings for Chase. It was time for action.

  She hurried to the control room. "Raven, I replicated a plate of caroba for you and Brand. It's in the galley. Take it to the cabin to eat. I have some work to do."

  Obediently, Raven slid from the seat. Taking Brand by the hand, she led him from the cockpit. Nessa went to the computer, bringing up the PWL file and with it, her decryption program. She printed off the codes she needed and used them to access Chase's communication records.

  She quickly found what she sought, a message from Sabin, received the day before.

  Dansan has been seen on Odera. Go to The Nebula and ask for Kant. Sabin.

  Dansan again. Nessa wondered at Chase's obsession with the woman. Perhaps she had an unusually high bounty on her head. Pushing aside her speculations, Nessa contacted the sector Controller base on Odera. Using Chase's identification code, she sent a written communication to Odera's command center. Her message was certain to get Chase arrested.

  Guilt at having him detained inundated her. But delaying him would help guarantee her successful escape. Besides, he could easily prove his true identity with hand and voice prints. The arrest would only slow him down.

  She turned her attention to starting the engines and preparing for take off. The controls responded smoothly to her touch. Once again using Chase's code, she contacted base command and received permission to depart. She called the children back into the cockpit.

  "Something has come up, and we have to leave Odera immediately," she told them. "You need to get back into the safety harnesses."

  Raven's eyes widened. "But what about Chase?"

  "He's been detained on business. He'll catch up with us later."

  After strapping the children in, Nessa sank into Chase's seat. His scent lingered there. Remorse, and the old, familiar, aching loneliness swept through her. Granted, she had Raven and Brand, but she entertained no delusions about a mate in her future. No man would ever find her desirable. Her nights with Chase would have to provide memories for a lifetime.

  Her heart beating wildly, she activated the hoverlifts and the ship rose from the pad, listing a little. Rough vibrations shook the cockpit, demanding her complete concentration. But her seasons of flying reconnaissance missions with Jarek paid off. Righting the ship, she guided it into position to break away from Odera's gravitational field. The children watched silently.

  No turning back now.

  Minutes later, they sped toward freedom. The navigation plotter provided the coordinates for Santerra, which Nessa fed into the flight controller. She set the controls on autopilot, then released her harness and unhooked the children.

  Raven immediately returned to her computer screen, while Brand went to stand by Chase's seat. He remained there, staring at the seat, as if he expected Chase to return at any time. Nessa's initial adrenaline rush gave way to a sudden onslaught of fatigue. She rubbed her aching neck.

  The computer's calculations indicated it would take six days to reach Santerra by the most direct route. Surely that would be soon enough. As best as she could tell, she still had eight days before full incubation.

  "Come on," she told the children. "Let's go replicate the midday meal. Then we'll play with Turi and Lia."

  "Can't we wait for Chase?" Raven asked. She obviously hadn't connected taking off with leaving him behind.

  "No sweetness. Chase is going to stay on Odera for a while."

  "He's not coming with us? But it won't be the same without him." A crestfallen expression filled Raven's face.

  No, it wouldn't be the same. Nessa willed the emptiness inside away. "He has his business to attend to, and we have ours. We're headed to a Shielder base."

  The topic of Chase fell by the wayside as Raven absorbed Nessa's last statement. "A Shielder colony?" She danced from foot to foot. "Maybe our mother and father will be there."

  Nessa didn't think so, having pieced together what must have happened to Raven and Brand from Raven's jumbled descriptions. Their colony had been attacked by Anteks, who had apparently proceeded in their usual manner. The adults were slaughtered, and their heads taken to turn in to the Controllers for bounties. No one bothered to hunt out the children who escaped into the hills. It was too much trouble, and they would die from starvation or exposure soon enough.

  The Anteks didn't particularly care if slave traders moved in after the destruction of a colony, looting and taking young victims to sell as slaves. True, they were Shielder survivors, but the life expectancy of slaves precluded the possibility that many would reach adulthood. And if they did—well, they were still slaves.

  "I don't know if we can find your parents, sweetness," she told Raven. "But if we don't, then you'll have a new home in the colony."

  "With you? If I can't have my mother and father, then I want to be with you!"

  Raven's vehement declaration warmed Nessa's heart. But she knew the girl would be better off with someone who could take proper care of her; someone who was a respected member of the colony.

  Someone not infected with Orana.

  She tried to shrug off her despondency. Exhaustion pulled at her. A good night's sleep would help. "Come on, let's go eat," she urged, offering her hands. Raven came readily, but Brand dragged from the cockpit, turning to stare at Chase's chair one last time. He reminded Nessa a little of Lia, moping after Chase. She urged the child from the room.

  Later that evening, she watched the children slip into slumber. Would sleep come that easily to her? Exhaustion hung on her like armor, and sweat beaded her forehead. The ship felt too hot, so she went to adjust the temperature controls. Odd, but they remained at their usual setting.

  With a sigh, she returned to her cabin. She couldn't bear the thought of using Chase's cabin, of sleeping alone in that wide bunk. She'd squeeze in with the children. Entering the lav, Nessa stared into the mirror. For a minute, all appeared normal. Then she noticed the telltale redness of her eyes.

  The first indication of Orana.

  Shock reverberated through her. Oh, Spirit, no! She had eight days—eight days! The Orana couldn't be manifesting this early, unless she'd miscounted the days. Or perhaps the stress and uncertainty of her situation had sped up the progression of the virus. Moot considerations, at this point. Bloodshot eyes, aching body, fever—all pointed to one thing, and one thing only.

  She had active Orana.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Chase entered the Nebula, a recreation club for the Anteks and other workers stationed on Odera. The sector Controller base generated the planet's only industry, the arid terrain having nothing to offer. At this early time of day, few beings lurked around.

  He knew his size and race made his outsider status obvious, drawing unwanted attention. He wore his helmet with the visor down to hide his face, and displayed his weapons in plain view. He'd be recognized as a shadower, not uncommon on Odera, but hoped his identity would remain anonymous. He didn't want Dansan forewarned.

  He scanned the room before entering, then strode to the bar. The bartender, a woman of indeterminate age, eyed him boldly as he approached. She was attractive enough, yet a world-weary cynicism hardened her features. She probably earned a lot more off duty than when she served drinks.

  "Can I help you?" she purred, placing her hands on the counter and leaning forward, her generous breasts pressing against her low-cut tunic.

  A vision of smaller breasts, nestled perfectly in his hands, flashed through Chase's mind. Blazing hells! Even here, when he must be deadly focused, memories of Nessa encroached
on him. He forced them away.

  "I'm looking for Kant."

  "Oh." Disappointment flashed through her artificially tinted emerald eyes. "He's over there, drinking himself into a stupor, as usual. Can't imagine why you'd have business with the likes of him."

  Chase looked where she pointed, seeing a hooded figure slouched over a drink. He hadn't expected a Shen, members of a cultlike group who practiced an ancient religion based on magic. They usually kept to themselves, following Controller directives without protest.

  Not totally reclusive, though. Shens often gravitated to where money could be made. Chase knew a group of them worked on the base. But they weren't known to frequent the bar, because their religion prohibited drinking. Obviously, this Shen had forsaken that philosophy.

  Chase approached the man warily, watching everyone around him. He stopped at the table. The Shen didn't move or acknowledge him in any way. "Kant?"

  "Are you McKnight?" The low voice whispered from the shadow of the deep hood.

  "Are you Kant?"

  The man lifted his arm, and Chase tensed, his hand going to his stunner. But the Shen gracefully waved a long, slender hand toward the opposite chair. "Sit, McKnight."

  His hand still on his weapon, Chase slid into the seat. The tunnel of the hood prevented him seeing his contact's face, which didn't sit well with him.

  "So, you're seeking Dansan?"

  The voice sounded sober, contrary to what the bartender had told Chase. He wouldn't reveal any information without confirming his contact first. It might be a trap. "Show yourself, Shen."

  The Shen raised his hands, slowly pushing back the hood, revealing a young man with ebony hair and pale blue eyes. "Greetings, McKnight. You don't trust me?"

  "I don't trust anyone."

  "Moriah said to tell you she hopes you liked the robe."

  Moriah. He should have known. A heated rush flowed through him at the reminder of Nessa in that robe, and their subsequent lovemaking. He saw her moving with innate sensuality upon him, her eyes closed, and her expression rapt as passion overtook her. Even then, she'd radiated an aura of sweet innocence.