"Quite.” The one Ang on the left spoke the one word and Elise wondered if they knew.
"We wish to reassure you—” the Ang on the right began.
"Why me?” she interrupted. “Why did you ask for me? I'm no one.” Bitterly, she crossed her arms and glared at the two aliens.
"You are Donny Pasquel's mate, are you not?"
Her hand immediately covered her stomach. Three months pregnant and she showed very little so were they guessing? “Donny Pasquel doesn't remember who I am.” She couldn't keep the sadness from her voice.
The two aliens exchanged a glance from their extended eyes. Their black orbs showed nothing of their thoughts. “We have heard of his ... condition."
"Have you?” She smiled but it held no humor.
"We are also aware of yours.” The Ang on the left spoke bluntly.
She froze. Only Jenia and Alan Zoelner knew of the child. Elise was terrified that when Earth Central found out she was pregnant, they would run tests, make the baby a lab rat. Jenia reassured her that she was an Asberekian citizen. The colonists were not going to allow this child to be tormented. Donny was their new hero.
The irony was that Donny Pasquel, who tortured himself because of the killing he'd done, was now revered by those who once feared him. A hero. The man who saved Asberek from Kliro, the insane Dormrelian. The man who almost died to protect the planet. The man who lost his memories.
Asberek colonists were infuriated when they discovered Earth Central's involvement with Kliro. They had negotiated with the Ang and the Dormrela for peace and presented Earth Central with the fait accompli.
In these chaotic times, Elise managed to keep the balance between Earth and the Dormrela. Even Slavern, who would never forget or forgive her destruction of the sacred stones, respected her talents. Eventually, he realized the DNA was better destroyed than in the hands of the Earth. Only three months and the state of affairs had changed dramatically.
"We can help Donny Pasquel,” one of the Ang stated. It occurred to Elise at that moment—completely inappropriately—that the Ang never gave their names.
"What are your names?” she asked abruptly.
"What we are called is not pronounceable in your language."
"Then take those damn things off and say it in Ang. I think it's time you let us know who you really are."
They glanced at each other and removed the MIs. The left one indicated the MI on her neck and she took hers off too.
You were right to destroy the stones.
She stared at them. They were telepathic. Why not tell Earth? Why go through the farce of the MIs?
I am Tec'lan. He is She'mo. We are a couple. All Ang can speak this way if we are bonded. Alone, we cannot. We speak to you now because you bear the future of all of us. The voice that spoke in her head was clearly feminine. Pictures of colors and places accompanied the thoughts. It made her mind spin.
This baby is mine! Hostility burned through her body and she flung it with her thoughts. Both of the Ang winced.
We are no threat. But we can help Adonis Pasquel regain himself.
How? Hope warred with distrust. She knew her thoughts were tinged with desperation to have Donny back and she couldn't keep that reality from the Ang.
By genetic manipulation.
No!
She broke the connection she didn't even understand and fumbled with the MI. “Hasn't he suffered enough?"
She'mo, the Ang on the right, placed the MI back on. “I will send the details to Dr. Carstairs. The child will need you both to survive."
Elise broke then. Her whole world crumbled and she collapsed as she gasped for breath. Sobs ripped through her body. Loss, grief, fear all overwhelmed her.
Strangely, both Ang wrapped their odd limbs around her and held her. Tec'lan spoke. “You are the hope for us all, Elise Fleming. Your child, Daniella Pearce's child, all hold the future in their hands. You must be the one to guide them to their destinies."
She barely heard the words as blessed darkness overcame her. The months of little sleep and little appetite combined with carrying a child finally took its toll. The last thing she heard was Tec'lan speaking. “She will die without him."
And She'mo answered, “She will have him back. They both must live."
Elise remembered no more but slipped into oblivion.
* * * *
Donny was frustrated. Dr. Zoelner had helped him remember bits and pieces of his life but something—something very important—seemed out of reach.
He remembered meeting Kliro. After that, things were fuzzy, out of focus. Some facts he just knew but didn't remember. He was aware that he'd killed but the details were blank. Zoelner told him not to push it, but he was desperate to remember and he didn't know why.
His hospital room was all he'd known for three months. That, and therapy in the VFR. Zoelner buzzed his door. “Come in."
His doctor sat down, a serious expression on his face. “I have a proposition for you."
"Oh?"
"The Ang have offered to try a procedure so you can regain your memories."
The Ang. A bitter taste filled Donny's mouth. What few memories he had didn't include pleasant ones of the Ang. “What do they want in return?"
"Survival.” Zoelner bit the word out. “Apparently, they view your memories being returned as essential to them."
"What's the catch?"
"It involves DNA manipulation.” Zoelner's lips tightened. “Dr. Carstairs has studied the procedure and says it's up to you."
"Risks?"
"We know very little of Ang ability. You may end up their puppet. Or you may die."
Donny stared at him. “There's something I don't know, isn't there?"
Zoelner sighed. “Someone else's life may depend on your memories being returned."
Someone else's. Donny asked the question though it frightened him to do it. “Who?"
"Dr. Elise Fleming.” The name bounced around Donny's mind and something rippled below the surface. He couldn't see it, but it was there, just out of reach.
"I'll do it.” The words flew out of his mouth.
"Just like that?” Zoelner seemed surprised.
"I want to remember. I need to remember. When do we start?"
"Now, if you want."
Donny's stomach tightened. “I do. Let's get it over with."
Zoelner pushed a button and two Ang stepped inside the hospital room. One of them held a syringe.
Donny closed his eyes and then snapped them open. “This better work or I'll kill them, Zoelner."
Our survival depends on it. The thought drifted through Donny's mind and he started. One Ang held him in a loose grip and the other injected the contents of the syringe. For the child that is to be—the race that will save us all—we will restore you to yourself, Adonis Pasquel. You will remember.
Light exploded behind his eyes and his brain felt as if every nerve was burning napalm. He screamed and grasped his head in his hands. The odd appendages of the Ang held him in a comforting, yet firm grip as he convulsed.
He was going to die. Fire blazed along his veins and his whole body jerked and shook. Death was at his door.
"Elise!"
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eleven
"You mustn't do that again.” Dr. Carstairs frowned at Elise. “No more meetings with alien dignitaries. It's not good for the baby."
A wan smile was all Elise could muster. “I doubt any dignitaries, alien or otherwise, will want to see me.” She couldn't ask about Donny. She wanted to. It was there, on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't have the courage to hear “He doesn't remember you” again.
"I want you to take a break from work,” Jenia said sternly. “Go to the VFR. That's an order."
Bitter, Elise narrowed her eyes. “And ask for what? My fantasies are dead."
"Stop that.” Jenia's brow furrowed in worry. “Isn't there some happy place you can summon up?"
Suddenly, Elise
was tired. “I'll try."
Jenia didn't take that as an answer, but escorted her to the VFR. “Now."
With no energy to fight, Elise opened the doors to the VFR and stood in the center of the space. The room was like her soul, blank and dead.
The shift was abrupt and next she was surrounded by an Asberekian jungle just like the “happy place” Donny had chosen. This was where he first touched her, where she fell hopelessly in love with him.
Her heart shattered, and she sat on her butt to have a nice long cry.
Strong arms lifted her and cradled her. A calloused hand stroked her hair and whispered comforting words. “Elise, it's okay. I'm here."
But she was unable to stop. Hormones and grief combined to create a storm of weeping. Elise hated it. Never before had she been so weak, so emotional. “I'm sorry,” she choked out.
"Shhh. I'm here. Let it go, my love."
Through wet lashes she looked up and saw who held her. “Donny!"
He kissed her cheek. “I'm here, baby."
Wonder was in her touch as she traced his features. She didn't—couldn't—speak. She was afraid if she did, it would turn out to be a dream, or a hologram. She wanted to pretend it was real for just that moment.
"I missed you.” He held her gaze, his blue eyes warm and loving.
"I love you so much.” The words tumbled from her mouth. “I always have. I can't live without you. I can't raise this baby alone. I'll plant peach trees or whatever you want but please, oh please, don't leave me.” She sobbed and clung to him with desperate fingers.
"You're pregnant?” His eyes widened, and he held her away from him slightly.
She blinked. “I am. No one knows but Jenia and Dr. Zoelner."
For a breathless moment she wondered if he was real, a fantasy, he was so still. Then he whooped loudly and hugged her. “Goth Barbie and the Freak. We'll have awesome kids.” He laughed. She was stunned. “That must be what the Ang were talking about."
She took his face in her hands, fear like ice in her veins. “The Ang?"
"When they restored my memories.” Donny's hands threaded in her hair. “Even when I couldn't remember you, I loved you. Did you know that? Something was missing and I wanted to have it. I would have risked everything for you, and I didn't even remember you."
"Really?” She stroked his face in absolute amazement.
"You made an impression.” He smirked.
"I did?” She grinned. “It must be my charming personality."
He snorted. “More like your well placed knee.” The smile faded, and he clasped her face between his palms. “You're burned inside of me, and I never want it to go away again. Ever. You're the only one who made me feel alive, and I don't think anything could make me forget it."
Her breath caught and he yanked her towards him. His kiss was a bruising plunder as his hands took possession of her breasts and disposed of her clothes. Naked, she flushed as he slowed down long enough to study every curve, every inch on her body. “You're beautiful.” He reverently laid a kiss on her belly. “I can't wait to see our baby."
She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. “I can't either."
His lips pressed inside the valley between her breasts and along her collarbone. “I hope you don't think you've tamed me."
Her eyebrows rose. “I hope you don't think you've tamed me.” She gasped as his teeth sank into the soft skin below her ear.
"I've got a collar with your name on it.” He was smiling as he licked her neck.
"I've got a cane with yours.” She shifted her knee to rub his hard cock.
He lifted his head, his hands gripping her upper arms. “That mouth of yours..."
"So you say,” she taunted him.
He growled. Just as she'd hoped he would.
In a heartbeat, he gave her all she wanted. He ripped his clothes off and tossed them away. He kissed her until she moaned with need and then he gave special attention to each of her nipples as one of his hands held both of hers immobile beneath her body. She squirmed and ached to plunge her fingers through his hair and grip his penis in her eager hand. But he denied her all of it as he tormented her with his wicked mouth.
He sucked on her nipple so hard she felt a jolt in her pussy. Encouraged by her response, he started to pull with his mouth in rhythmic suction until she shattered and screamed in pleasure. It rolled over her like a truck and slammed her into oblivion. He trailed bites down her body until he reached her clit. He captured the cum from her pulsating entrance and began to stroke her erect nub with his tongue. He flicked it until she arched and convulsed again. As she was still reeling, he laid his teeth on her clit and she screamed his name. He hummed against her flesh and then rose over her. He released her hands and she wrapped them around his neck as her hips thrust up towards his. He didn't wait any longer and slid his cock home deep and strong. She clenched around him and chanted his name with every thrust.
His voice was hoarse and words tumbled from his lips. “I love you so much, Elise. I'd die without you. My love. My heart. My soul."
When she tipped over the edge, her toes curled and she shouted so loud her own ears rang. Donny wasn't far behind and he gave a hoarse cry as he emptied himself inside her and the world tilted.
Her breath came in gasps and everything spun a little. She clung to Donny, afraid it would end and she'd wake up to find it all a dream.
It's no dream, my love. In her head, Donny's tone was tender, loving.
How are you doing that?
You are too, sweet. The thought was filled with laughter. We're connected. I have the Ang telepathic ability and you have it since you're having my baby. You've been genetically altered by fucking me. Does that bother you?
She sent him several naughty pictures of how little it bothered her. Every memory of their time together was precious. Now, he could see it.
I love you, Elise Fleming. And no matter what happens in the future, we'll face it together.
And have peach trees?
And three children. His arms tightened around her. You'll never be alone. Ever.
She lay in his arms with a smile on her face. They'd been manipulated, lied to, threatened but all that was over. They were in charge of their own destinies.
The End
About the Author
Once upon a time, there was a little girl...
I loved Harlequin romances when I was little and used to sneak them from my mother's bookshelf. But my father influenced me with Agatha Christie, Ngiao Marsh and Arthur Conan Doyle. I always loved to write but never thought about becoming an author.
In 2003, a profound experience changed that. My mother showed me a manuscript written by my father. No one had ever seen it. No agent. No editor. No one. He died in 2002 never realizing his dream to be a published author.
I wondered if that would be my fate. Would my family come across my attempts at storytelling and shake their heads in pity? I vowed that I would at least try.
Romance seemed to be my genre, but there was a small problem. Dead bodies kept showing up. Apparently, I couldn't write a romance without a little mystery. Luckily for me, romantic suspense is a thriving genre.
Jennifer Leeland was born when I wanted to write erotic romance. I'd loved reading it and wanted to take a shot. It turned out that writing erotic romance was as much fun as reading it. The more I write, the farther I want to go.
I live with a Redneck, who loves to brainstorm with me on occasion, and my two dirt-faced Okie kids in the Northern California Boonies. And I write all my love scenes with Thomas the Tank Engine in the background.
* * *
Visit www.atlanticbridge.net for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
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Regaining Command Page 15