Oz: A SciFi Alien Romance (Enigma Series Book 5)

by Ditter Kellen

  His manhood stirred to life.

  Oz forced his attention elsewhere. Anywhere besides on her amazing breasts.

  He cleared his throat, deciding to humor her. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit to being curious as to how far she would go with her outrageous lies.

  “So, tell me. Why is it that you think your brother would not risk everything to get you back in one piece?”

  “What does it matter?” Maria responded in a weary voice. “You wouldn’t believe the truth if it jumped up and bit you in your overdeveloped ass.”

  The corner of Oz’s mouth lifted. “Overdeveloped? You’ve been looking at my ass?”

  “Hardly. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m wearing your shorts. They’re more than a little stretched out in the rear.”

  “A well-toned, beefy ass on a man is much sought after back home. But you knew that already. Which is why, I believe, you mentioned it.”

  She ignored his jab and continued to eagerly finish the food on her plate. “So, you’re going to kill Carlito like you killed our father?”

  That caught Oz off guard. “Your father deserved what he got. He murdered my mother.”

  Something flickered in Maria’s eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t really give a damn what you believe, Miss Acosta.” He emphasized her last name with disdain lining his tone. “It’s the truth.”

  Maria pushed her plate back and stood. “I’m no longer hungry. May I return to my room, please?”

  Oz could tell that it took enormous effort for her to ask his permission for anything. He also picked up on the confusion in her expression. Could she really be in the dark about her father’s past? He didn’t think so.

  With an inward sigh, he got to his feet and nodded toward the hall. “After you.”

  She didn’t look at him as she strode off toward her temporary prison.

  Oz entered the room behind her, snatching up the material he’d used to bind her hands. “If you need to use the bathroom, now is the time.”

  “You’re going to tie me up again? I’m going to be locked in a room with no windows. What do you think I’m going to do, hang myself from the ceiling fan with a sheet?”

  Oz didn’t trust her for a second. He eyed the ceiling fan suspiciously. “On second thought, come with me.”

  Taking her by the arm, he led her back to the hall and directed her toward his room.

  Maria resisted as he pushed her through the open doorway. “This is your room.”

  “How perceptive of you,” Oz murmured sarcastically. “Now get over there.”

  Maria stumbled forward before spinning around to face him. “I’m not getting in your bed.”

  Oz removed the elastic tie from his wrist and pulled his hair back in a ponytail. “We’ll see about that.”

  He suddenly jerked her up and tossed her onto the bed, straddling her waist as he followed her down.

  “Get off me,” she seethed, fighting his hold on her wrists.

  He yanked her hands over her head and attempted to secure her wrists to his headboard with the material he still held.

  Maria stared up at him in rage and something that resembled panic. “Don’t do this. Please.”

  Oz tilted his head to the side, curiosity outweighing his common sense. And that was when he noticed them. Faded scars, barely visible, encircling her wrists.

  “What is this?” He brought her hands up closer to the light.

  “It’s nothing,” she bit out, pulling at his hold. “Tie me if you’re going to do it, and get out.”

  She turned her head to the side as Oz wrapped the material around her wrists and secured them to the headboard. He felt no satisfaction in doing so.

  Pushing off from the bed, Oz spun toward the door, stopping at the threshold. “I’m going to finish my lunch and take a shower. I’ll check on you shortly.”

  He pulled the door closed and locked it from the outside before returning to the kitchen and what was left of his sandwich.

  Vaulcron’s voice whispered through his mind. “We have arrived.”

  “Come on aboard. I’m in the kitchen.”

  Oz finished off his lunch, listening to the sounds of his newly arriving guests.

  Footsteps could be heard coming up the hall. “I see that we are in time for lunch,” Vaulcron announced, entering the kitchen with exhaustion lining his face.

  Oz nodded toward the fridge. “Help yourself.”

  A bearded Gryke shouldered his way past Vaulcron and set about making himself at home.

  “Hello, Fiona,” Oz greeted her in a smooth voice as she followed behind Gryke. “Are you hungry?”

  She grinned and pulled out a stool to sit. “I’m famished. That was one hell of a swim.”

  Oz frowned. “Gryke didn’t help you out here?”

  Fiona shrugged. “He offered.”

  Oz took a drink of water before he choked on his food. “You swam all the way out here without any help?”

  At her nod, he continued. “It’s over a mile from here to shore. Swimming against the current couldn’t have been easy. Even for a man.”

  “Even for a man?” she murmured, indignation evident in her tone.

  “I only meant…” Oz cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Gryke, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “He is sure,” Vaulcron answered for him. “I do not trust him with the human military camped at the entrance of Aukrabah. One wrong move on their part, and I fear Gryke will start a war that we cannot win.”

  Gryke stiffened but remained quiet. The look in his eyes could only be described as psychotic.

  Oz studied him for a moment, understanding Vaulcron’s reluctance to leave him at Aukrabah.

  “So, Gryke,” Oz began, pushing his plate to the side. “Do you know how to use the human firearms?”

  “Would you like for me to demonstrate?” Gryke returned in a low tone.

  Vaulcron intervened. “He has become quite the weapons expert. I would not concern myself with his shooting abilities. Gryke is the best that we have.”

  “And if the military decides to invade Aukrabah?” Oz queried. “Don’t you think his help would be greatly needed?”

  Vaulcron shook his head. “I do not believe that President Pratt will go back on his word. And if he does, they outnumber us fifty-to-one. Whether Gryke is there or not will make no difference.”

  “I see your point,” Oz remarked, glancing at Fiona in time to notice a muscle tightening in her jaw.

  Something was amiss with the female soldier, Oz decided, taking note of her body language. Though he couldn’t put his finger on it, he would definitely keep an eye on her.

  Chapter Four

  Maria stared up at the ceiling, fighting the panic that had settled in her chest when Oz had bound her wrists.

  She’d sworn to never allow herself to be in a position to feel helpless again. Yet there she lay, arms bound above her head and at the mercy of a man once more.

  At least in the Bracadyte cell she’d been kept in her arms and legs had been free.

  Speaking of Bracadytes, she thought in no small amount of fear, she’d spent the past week a prisoner of the very creatures the American government had been at war with. The same alien beings that now had Cuba in a state of emergency.

  Recalling the day she’d been captured and hauled to the basement of Oz’s hotel, Maria shivered.

  The memory of the giant Bracadyte destroying one of her brother’s men without ever laying a hand on him would forever haunt her. She shuddered to think of what that thing was capable of.

  From what Maria knew of the gulf dwellers, they carried a virus that was now dropping people around the globe like flies.

  She shifted on the bed, attempting to relieve the burning in her shoulders. What if she was next? She’d been exposed to them for more than a week now.

  A muffled voice drifted through the door, catching her off guard. It sounded close and definitely didn’t belong to
Oz.

  “She is in here?” the stranger rumbled from just outside her room.

  The door abruptly opened, and one of the giant Bracadytes stepped inside.

  Maria scrambled back against the headboard, fear tightening her gut. “Stay away from me!”

  The creature stopped, his gaze softening with something akin to compassion. “I am not here to harm you.”

  “What do you want?” she managed to whisper, her gaze darting toward the door.

  “My name is Vaulcron. I am friend to the Bracadyte healer that you nearly killed with your bomb.”

  Maria stared into his eyes without blinking. “I didn’t blow up that boat. Whatever else I might be, I’m no murderer.”

  The one called Vaulcron cocked his head to the side. “You were apprehended near the explosion by Anthony Vaughn. You are also Carlito Acosta’s sister. You appear guilty to me.”

  “Like I tried to tell numbskull earlier. I was there to try to stop the bomb from going off. I didn’t set the damn thing.”

  Vaulcron drifted closer. “Why would you attempt to prevent your brother from blowing up the yacht?”

  “Because he is out of control. If he wants Nicho dead, then he should go after Nicho. Not set a bomb that will purposely kill a dozen or more innocent people.”

  “You do not care for Oz.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I wouldn’t pee on him if he were on fire,” Maria spat.

  Vaulcron’s brows lifted. “I believe that Oz is justified in his actions.”

  “Stop right there,” Maria demanded, noticing his steps carrying him closer to the bed. “I know about the virus you carry.”

  Another huge Bracadyte stepped into the room, wearing a scowl on his bearded face. A tattoo of a rose adorned his upper arm, seeming out of place on his massive body.

  “We do not carry this virus you speak of,” the bearded one rumbled. “Your human government is the cause of the Incola virus and all the deaths that have resulted from it.”

  Maria did a double take. Something dark and unsettling lurked in the creature’s eyes. “My government? I’m from Cuba, not the States.”

  “It matters not,” the scowling giant growled. “You are a land walker, and land walkers are not to be trusted.”

  Vaulcron turned to face their angry visitor. “Easy, Gryke. You forget that my mate is human.”

  “I did not forget,” Gryke stated, shifting his gaze to Vaulcron.

  Maria watched in silence as something passed between the two creatures. If she didn’t know any better, she would swear they were communicating somehow.

  Oz suddenly appeared in the open doorway. His damp hair hung over his shoulders, leaving wet stains on his black T-shirt. He’d obviously taken a shower. “You’re still in here?”

  Both Bracadytes turned to face him. Vaulcron spoke first. “The female claims that she is not responsible for the explosion of your yacht. If that is true, do you think it necessary to restrain her in such a way?”

  “I say we feed her to the sharks,” Gryke offered, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Oz shook his head. “We’re not feeding her to the sharks. And as far as her claim of innocence? I simply don’t believe her.”

  “I can locate the truth in her,” Vaulcron pointed out, waving a hand in her direction. “If you would allow me?”

  Oz made a surprised face. “You can tell whether she’s telling the truth or not?”

  Vaulcron simply nodded.

  “Then by all means,” Oz insisted, striding into the room and taking a seat on the foot of the bed. “Do your thing.”

  Maria shrank back from Vaulcron as he sauntered toward her and sat on the side of the mattress. “Do not touch me!”

  Vaulcron reached up and gripped the sides of her head in a gentle yet firm hold. His eyes slid shut, and energy began to pulse from his palms to run along her scalp in warm, soft vibrations.

  “Show me.” Vaulcron’s soft, persuasive voice whispered through her mind unbidden. Coaxing her into a trancelike state of euphoria she was powerless to resist.

  The morning of the explosion instantly came into view. Maria saw herself rushing toward the yacht in a full-blown panic, yelling for the two passengers who’d recently boarded to run. They couldn’t hear her over the surrounding sounds of the marina.

  She ran faster, harder, in hopes of reaching the boat before it was too late.

  An explosion rent the air, blasting her back several feet. Excruciating pain ran up her leg, and breath seemed impossible to inhale.

  Screams, bodies running from the hotel and along the beach.

  Maria staggered to her feet and hobbled off toward the tree line. She’d awoken to find the infamous Anthony Vaughn standing over her with rage in his eyes.

  “Those people,” she gasped, pushing up to her knees. “The ones on the boat. Are they all right?”

  “Get up,” Vaughn snarled, yanking her up. “You better pray they survive, or you will face the slowest, most horrific death imaginable.”

  “She speaks the truth,” Vaulcron admitted, removing his hands from her head. He slowly got to his feet. “She was not there to set a bomb, but rather to prevent the boat from being boarded.”

  Maria’s gaze flew to Oz’s now pale face. She watched in silence as he slowly trailed toward the bed. “I would like a moment alone with her.”

  Vaulcron and Gryke strode from the room without a word, pulling the door closed behind them.

  Oz sat next to her on the bed, his eyes swimming with confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would you go against your brother to help complete strangers?”

  “Because, he’s evil,” Maria responded in a quiet voice. “You both are.”

  Oz flinched before reaching up to untie her hands. “I know what you think of me. But your father deserved what he got.”

  The crack of her palm against the side of Oz’s face sounded like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet room. “Screw you, Nicho. No one deserves what you did to him!”

  It took Oz a moment to unclench his teeth enough to respond. He rose to his full height and pulled open the drawer on the nightstand next to his bed.

  “What is this?” Maria murmured, rubbing at her chafed wrists before glancing at the photo he dropped next to her hip.

  Oz didn’t move, only nodded toward the picture lying face down on the bed. “Look at it.”

  Maria snatched up the photo and turned it over. There, standing next to a willow tree, was one of the most beautiful women Maria had ever seen. Her dark hair nearly reached her waist, and her ruby-red lips were curved up into a smile. A little boy stood next to her, holding onto the arm she had draped around his shoulders.

  “Who is it?” Maria asked without looking away from the woman’s smiling eyes. But she knew. There was no mistaking the face of the child, the nameless beauty held close to her side.

  Oz cleared his throat. “My mother and me, about five years before her death.”

  The hand that held the photo began to tremble, and Maria instinctively dropped it next to her on the bed.

  She slowly lifted her head to meet Nicho’s despondent gaze. “Tell me,” she whispered, afraid to ask yet needing to know.

  Oz dragged a chair next to the bed and sat with his elbows resting on his knees. “My mother’s name was Lola. She was full of life and always had a smile on her face. Her parents deserted her at a very young age, forcing her to live on the streets. That’s where Acosta found her. He took her in, fed her, and cared for her until she was old enough to whore for him.”

  “What?” Maria gasped, shaking her head in denial. “My father would have never done that. I mean, I know he was into a lot of shady activity, but prostitution?”

  “It’s true,” Oz admitted quietly. “She gave birth to me before her eighteenth birthday. Acosta allowed her to keep me, but not without a price.”

  Nausea rolled through Maria’s gut. Afraid to ask, she swallowed down the bile that arose in her throat, and forced the question to le
ave her numb lips. “What kind of price?”

  Oz looked away. “To sell me to the highest bidder when I became old enough.”

  Maria couldn’t speak for a moment. She stared at him in stunned silence before finding her voice. “Sell you? As in…”

  “For sexual favors,” Oz confessed, meeting her gaze.

  “That can’t be,” Maria whispered, shaking her head in denial. “My father would never have harmed a child.” But the truth lay in the depths of Oz’s dark green eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Oz leaned back in his seat, rubbing his now sweaty palms up and down his jean-clad legs. Memories of his childhood swirled through his mind in vivid detail.

  Taking several calming breaths, he continued. “You needn’t worry. My mother couldn’t go through with selling me, which is most likely what got her killed. Carlito had her executed for accusations of stealing from a john. But I don’t believe it. Mother was not a thief. I have no doubts that she died for reneging on the deal she’d made with your father.”

  Maria blinked several times, obviously attempting to hold back the tears Oz could see swimming in her luminous brown eyes.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she began while fidgeting with her fingers. “I am sorry for what happened to your mother. Are you sure it was my father that had her killed?”

  Anger flared to life inside Oz. “I’m more than sure. I witnessed it.”

  Maria threw her legs over the side of the bed and faced Oz. The tears sparkling in her eyes spilled over to track down her cheeks. “For the past six years, I’ve despised you. Hoping you lay dead in a ditch somewhere for what you did to my father. I allowed it to consume me, to control every aspect of my life. And now…”

  “Now?” Oz prompted, leaning forward onto his elbows.

  The door suddenly opened and Gryke stuck his head into the room. “Someone approaches.”

  Oz was on his feet before the Bracadyte finished speaking.

  “Stay here,” Oz demanded, rushing from the room. He pulled the door shut behind him.

  “How many?” Oz questioned Gryke as they jogged down the hall and ran up the stairs to the wheelhouse.