Touch of the Goddess
Maria Hammarblad
Other books by Maria Hammarblad
Wrath of the Goddess
Return of the Goddess
Brand New World
High Gravity
Adam and Eve
With Desert Breeze Publishing
Kidnapped
Undercover
Courage and Retribution
Flashback
Operation Earth
Shadow of a Man
Touch of the Goddess
Third edition, April 2013
Copyright © 2010 Maria Hammarblad
ISBN 10: 1-45158-990-5
ISBN 13: 978-1-45158-990-0
Cover art from:
canstockphoto.com : csp8511194
istockphoto.com : frentusha
Back cover from:
istockphoto.com : yanish83
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Characters and places are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, neither this entire publication nor parts of it may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, without having written permission from the copyright owner.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
www.mariahammarblad.com
Touch of the Goddess
Book one in The Goddess’s Saga
By
Maria Hammarblad
Contents
Other books by Maria Hammarblad
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Epilogue
About Maria Hammarblad
~ 1 ~
The man leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on a console, trying to pour himself one more drink from an empty bottle.
Nothing came out and he squinted into it, seeking proof it was really dry.
“Dammit.”
He wasn’t particularly worried over the shards of shattered glass that spread all over the floor when it hit the wall behind him. He was worried about being out of whiskey. Drought would be a real problem.
He rose to his feet on unsteady legs and made his way to a cabinet hanging on the wall.
Damn this floor is unsteady. They don’t make them like they used to.
At least he found more booze, and he cradled the bottle.
“Hello sexy.”
Talking to bottles might not be a good habit, but there wasn’t anyone around to hear him, so who cared.
He started drinking when he left station TL52 earlier in the day. He had been paid well and carried nice new cargo that would pay even better. These were good reasons to celebrate. Especially since bad memories tended to seep into his mind, ruining any good mood. Using alcohol to chase his ghosts away seemed reasonable. The first drink was lonely in his stomach and wanted company by a second one, and so it went.
As soon as he sat down, the proximity alarm blared.
What the hell, space is huge. How can there possibly be someone out there?
He braced himself for the collision, but remembered to protect the fresh bottle, just in case he’d survive.
A moment later, a woman stood in the middle of the room. She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow.
“What did you do that for? Space is so big and you just had to run into me?”
She glanced around the room and wrinkled her nose.
“Oh my God, I’ve been rammed by a trash barge. I bet you have rats too.”
It didn’t seem that bad. Sure he had some empty bottles, shards of glass, and plates with mouldy food, but there were worse places.
“How did you… Where’d you come from?”
Why was speaking so difficult? He tried again.
“Oh, I get it, you’re a hallunication. Because I’m hrunk. Right?”
At least the alarms fell silent. Maybe he died in the collision and this was either heaven or hell.
I think I’m alive, but I’m not sure.
“Oh you’re hrunk alright.”
To his surprise, the unlikely woman giggled. “A drunk hunk, that makes a hrunk. What’d you do? Bathe in scotch?”
Scotch? Sounds good.
He took a swig and squinted at her. His eyes probably weren’t trustworthy; women always seemed pretty when he was drunk, and they usually turned out to be hideous the next morning. Still, this one appeared to be beautiful for real. She shouted at him again, nothing new there.
Some nonsense about rats.
It made no sense but he shrugged it off.
All women were crazy anyway.
Drawing his gun and pointing it at her was more difficult than it should have been. The weapon swayed from side to side, but it was probably her moving.
“Stand still.”
He attempted to rise from the chair to demand information, but doing so turned out to be too much work.
Why is the stupid room spinning? Another drink might help. Maybe that’ll make her go away too, or at least be quiet.
When he put the bottle down again, the woman held a hand out to him.
“I’m Maria Callaway. It’s nice to meet you.”
How is it nice to meet you? I mean me…
He looked at the hand as if it was a peculiar artefact. Maria Callaway sounded like a name, but it was wrong. Her name ought to be sexy. The thought made him grin and gave a big enough boost of adrenaline to get to his feet.
He should shake her hand, but when he looked at his right hand it held the precious bottle. He couldn’t drop that. The other held his gun. Why had he drawn his weapon again? Not important. Getting it back into the holster was too much work and he tossed it on a console.
The hand looked like a fragile object he might accidentally break, and he took it carefully.
“I’m Stephan. Stephan Forks. Uh, sorry ‘bout your ship.”
This time he realized he slurred. What way was that to talk to a beautiful woman? She should be in his bed and not on his bridge. He closed one eye, reasoning it might be easier to focus on her if he didn’t use both of them, and examined her slender body, pale skin, long black hair, and big green eyes. It was easy to imagine kissing those perfect lips and touching those perfect breasts…
Yeah, she was probably beautiful for real, and not just because he was drunk.
“So... what’s a ship like you doing in a woman like this?”
It didn’t sound right even in his own ears and he grimaced, muttering, “ship, woman, what’s a woman doing in a ship... eh, who cares, too much work.”
Maria answered dryly, “Yes, I’m starting to wonder that myself.”
“Meh, you’re not real anyway.”
He returned his at
tention to his old friend in the bottle. The walking and talking hallucination might go away if he ignored it. Strange how solid she seemed though.
*****
Maria Callaway crossed her arms and watched the slumping man. First he ruined her ship, and then he thought she was a mirage. Great.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and ran through her options. She’d checked the ship out when it became clear he was going to ram her, and there weren’t any other people there. She could either leave, or try to make sense of the person she’d found.
“I just got my ship because my little sister had one, and rescuing humans in space seemed like fun.”
He turned his back on her and muttered, “Not there. She’s not there.”
“I’m just saying, it wasn’t a great loss.”
Maybe I was destined to collide with this nutcase. It could be the beginning of a new adventure. Or not… At least he’s good looking.
Stephan boasted a muscular body, unruly hair, a good-looking face, and stubbly cheeks. She always had a soft spot for stubble. Those brown eyes of his wouldn’t be bad either, if they weren’t so watery. He smelled bad though. Still, if he was half as intelligent as he was handsome, he might be good company once he sobered up.
Okay, I guess I’m staying. For now.
She blinked, and the bottle of whiskey disappeared, together with all the filth spread out over the bridge. Stephan stared at his empty hand, evidently trying to figure out what happened. When he glanced over at her, he seemed surprised she was still there.
“Give that back.”
Spreading out her empty hands, Maria put up an innocent face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It does, however, seem as if I’m stuck here with you since you destroyed my ship. Find me a place to sleep.”
He gave a completely blank stare, and she rolled her eyes. “You crashed into me, five minutes ago, remember?”
“Oh yeah, that… Sorry ‘bout that, babe.”
He pulled a hand through his hair and looked embarrassed.
She wanted to slap her forehead in exasperation. Then, she realized what he said and nearly snapped at him for calling her babe. Instead, she drew a deep breath.
None of this matters. If he’s not dead from alcohol poisoning by morning, he won’t remember a thing.
Stephan took a step forward and grumbled, barely understandably, “The ship isn’t supposed to roll like this. I’ve gotta fix the stabilizers, or is it the artificial gravity? Where was I going again? Oh yeah…”
He threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a good squeeze.
Good thing I’m stronger than I look or we would both have fallen over.
She tried to stay away from his breath, waving a hand in front of her face. Shouldn’t something this wicked be labelled a safety hazard?
Leaning heavily on her, Stephan somehow led the way through a door and into an elevator. By the time they reached the floor below, he seemed to have forgotten where they were going, and she carried most of his weight.
“I should leave you here. You’d probably sleep it off just fine on the floor.”
“Uuuh…”
The groan could mean anything and she rolled her eyes.
“I guess I like you since I bother…”
A nondescript corridor stretched out to both sides. “Where are we going?”
No answer came and she turned left on instinct. Her feet brought her to the third door on the left and she didn’t even lift an eyebrow in surprise when it turned out to be a well-used bedroom.
It’s good to always be right.
Stephan already snored and she dropped him on the bed.
“Don’t let this become a habit.”
Lying with his back on the bed and most of his legs on the floor didn’t look too comfortable, so she pulled him further up and forced his boots off.
“Why did I do that? Stupid drunk human.”
She wanted to bang her head against the wall, chanting, “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” but that would be below her dignity. Instead, she took a seat on the floor with her back leaning against the wall. Think, Maria.
Thinking did not go well. The room smelled weird and the large man on the bed distracted her. She believed in fate; most of the time she ended up exactly where she needed to be without even trying, and what seemed like coincidences usually made sense in the end. Taking this into consideration, and the size of time and space, it probably wasn’t an accident they occupied the exact same space at the same time.
The rest of the ship has been pretty neat. Maybe he isn’t a total pig after all. Should I stick around for a couple of days? Well, I have all the time in the world, and if nothing amusing happens, I can always teleport away… Now what? It’ll be hours before he starts moving again.
She could explore, but the ship probably wasn’t that interesting.
What would normal people do? Go to sleep?
It seemed reasonable. Lacking anything better to do, she curled up next to him. His snoring should be irritating, but soon turned into a soothing lullaby, and she drifted off to sleep within seconds.
“If you throw up on me, I’ll turn you into a camel.”
~ 2 ~
Stephan slept for many hours, and when he eventually woke up, a drummer kept a steady beat in his head.
He was queasy, his mouth felt as dry as a Ter´kyan sand desert, and it tasted even worse.
“I’ve got to stop drinking.”
That sensible thought came to him many a morning just like this. Thus far it hadn’t happened, but some time might be the first.
His memories of the previous evening were dim, to say the least. He must have left port because he was on his ship and not in one of the shabby hotels that surrounded the bar, and he was in bed. Bonus.
I can’t remember going here, but it’s much better than waking up on the bridge or in some corridor.
He had a faint memory of a pair of incredible green eyes and long dark hair, but that was probably just a dream.
Groaning, he tried to move, and was surprised to find a light weight over his shoulder and chest. The room spun and opening his eyes and moving his head made it spin faster. It was still worth the effort. The dark hair from his dreams was spread out across his pillows, and over the pale, but beautiful face of a sleeping woman. The light weight he felt was her arm, and he marvelled over her slender fingers and perfect nails before he had to close his eyes again.
Whoa, what happened yesterday?
The girl was in his bed, and he had no idea who she was, or how she ended up there. He didn’t even know how he got there. She didn’t look anything like the girls he usually picked up when he made port, and they weren’t in port; they were in space. Hung over or not, he knew the feeling and sound of his ship.
I wish I gave her the night of her life. Judging from the way he felt and the fact that they were both fully dressed, he doubted it.
There was another more pressing problem; he had to get up, but it seemed a shame to wake the sleeping beauty. He moved her off him as gently as he could and got out of bed, staggering towards the restroom, ashamed of the way he nearly toppled over.
If I’m lucky, she might not be awake to see this.
*****
Maria was very much awake, but pretended to be sound asleep so she wouldn’t have to face him.
I can’t believe I snuggled up to him. This is too embarrassing. Maybe I should leave before he comes back?
As human as she might look, she wasn’t one. Experience claimed his body would be giving him hell by now, and he still moved her gently, being kind in spite of his own discomfort. It didn’t make up for destroying her ship, but it was more than she expected and she had to give him points for it.
Watching through her lashes, she grimaced when he almost fell.
How does he keep so fit in space? Especially with these drinking habits?
Moreover, where did those dangerous thoughts come from?
She sat
up the moment he disappeared out of sight and shook her head at herself.
“Maria Callaway, now what are you going to do?”
Maybe she could pretend everything was normal? That’s what she usually did, and why not. It wasn’t as if he would remember anything.
The plan came across as somewhat childish, but it was the best she had, and she sat up with a pillow behind her back. She gave her appearance a thought, just to make sure she was a good representative for her species, of course, no other reason.
If I stay, I’ll have to tell him who I am. What should I say?
She tried an explanation on the empty room.
“I teleported myself onto your ship yesterday and decided to spend the night. I come from a species that spread over the galaxy a long time ago. We’re so ancient no one can remember who we are anymore. Oh yes, before I forget, my family used to be revered as Gods on Earth.”
Tyeah, that’ll either make him jump out an airlock, or try to lock me up for being an insane megalomaniac.
Rolling her eyes at herself, she made a breakfast tray appear. She didn’t need to eat, but she liked to, and breakfast was her favourite. With strong coffee, fruits, and croissants, the adventure was shaping up by the minute.
Stephan was gone for quite some time, and even if his face still seemed chalky when he returned, he looked like he would live. He made his way to the bed and sank down next to her with a groan.
“Sorry babe, I have to close my eyes for a few.”
She opened her mouth to point out she wasn’t a babe, but realized the futility and stuffed a piece of pineapple in it instead. He probably called all women babe and the habit wouldn’t go away just like that.
He opened an eye again and glanced at her.
“I’d say make yourself at home, but you’ve already done that. I didn’t know we had fruit.”
You didn’t. I do.
The pineapple tasted sweet, and she enjoyed a couple pieces of melon and a strawberry as well before nibbling a croissant. Stephan made no sign of opening his eyes again or even moving.
Goddess's Saga 1: Touch of the Goddess Page 1