by Jocelyn Modo
Intimate Enemy
Jocelyn Modo
Faced with a life of sexual servitude, Azure runs away in search of help. What she finds on a space station in enemy territory is soul-searing sex with her intimate—the one male in the galaxy who matches her body, mind and spirit.
Lone, a dual blood, doesn’t want to bond with Azure, who belongs to the race that has nearly destroyed him. But he has never felt so loved or so moved by any female.
Together they must overcome prejudices that have kept their races apart for hundreds of years and escape before Azure’s past catches up with them and kills their future.
Intimate Enemy
Jocelyn Modo
Chapter One
Azure Rettca knew finding the leader of the Underground Union Movement in a crowd of eighty thousand was insane. But with her hormones raging and a forced marriage contract hanging over her head, she was desperate enough to plead insanity and look anyway.
Terrified her father would find her and drag her home to the male she despised, Azure searched the Equate Space Station located in World Two, Nashete territory. Here, every few years when casualties grew gruesomely high from the Great Galaxy War, the two populated worlds joined together to talk peace.
Nothing ever came of these discussions, Azure thought as she tucked a curl of her powder-blue hair behind her ear and squirmed on a long, narrow bench against a scrolling info-wall. She watched the two peoples—Nashete, who were larger and darker, and Vitca, her people, who were smaller and paler—walk by in racially clean clusters, sneering and threatening each other. Their racism made her sick.
Where were all the dual bloods her father spoke of with such disdain, the offspring of Nashete and Vitca intimates whose trinity-of-being—body, heart and spirit—fit together as pieces of a whole? She saw none or, more accurately, smelled none. Dual bloods were supposed to carry both the citrus smell of Nashete and the sweet smell of Vitca blood in a combination that her cousin Corra once described as peace wrapped in lemon sugar.
Corra… Tears sprang to Azure’s eyes as she thought of her cousin forced into a marriage with a male who was all muscle and meanness, a male who’d given Corra anything but peace since their marriage contract had been sealed months ago.
Peace. She shook her head—peace was impossible when the majority of the two races refused even to mingle. Hell, if weapons were allowed on the space station she’d run away to, they’d all be dead a few minutes into the discourse.
This was the most obtuse, bigoted, stubborn group of beings she’d ever had the misfortune of seeing, and that was saying something given the fact her family, from whom she’d never been away before, were pureblooded Vitca who prided themselves on their separatist lifestyle and support of the never-ending war.
“I’m such a moron. Finding him is impossible in this crowd,” she whispered to herself as a very large, very hot Nashete male stepped in front of her. Her gaze locked with his for the briefest of moments and then she took in his shoulder-length, blond, wavy hair that shone like gold, his broad shoulders, which were squared at attention and, as he turned away…an ass made for cupping.
Despite his unbelievable good looks, he had an aura of sadness so strong that she had to fight not to cry. Something was horribly wrong with him. His extraordinary eyes showed that his soul had not only been broken but set on fire, flayed alive, leaving a twisted, crippled mutation that could never heal.
His overwhelming sorrow cooled the sexual ache burning through Azure that signaled she had reached maturity and was more than ready to mate. But not with him. As hot as he was, her body knew he was not her intimate.
At least gorgeous guy’s deep depression was helping her control her newly awakened hormones, which were screaming for relief that only her intimate could give. Still, it was really too bad that this male was not the one she was meant to spend her life with. She had the impossible impulse to try to heal the shattered pieces of him.
But if he were her intimate, he sure as hell would not be scanning the crowd as if he was looking for something or someone else. And he matched only one of her trinity-of-being, her body. Her heart and spirit were not drawn to him.
A young, babyish voice cut through the babble of the crowd. “Pemmi!”
The male Azure was beginning to think of as the gold god turned toward a baby bot—a robot sold while in a state of learning who, like a sentient child, bonded to its “parent” and learned from experience. Only the very wealthy owned such advanced personal companion equipment as a baby bot. This one was as cute as a doll, its metallic skin shimmering pink in the brightly lit hall. She approached the male on short, wobbly legs, tiny arms outstretched—a robotic toddler with hair the same color and cut as the male and big, baby doll eyes the color of a clear day planetside.
“Found you, Pemmi,” the baby bot squealed, her metallic teeth flashing silver as her smile plumped her little girl cheeks. “I told you I could find you anywhere. Even with all these people running around.”
She did a little hop where she stood in front of the male. He reached down and picked her up, his stance, his whole state of being changing to a protective joyfulness that was so opposite his mood from seconds ago that it took Azure several moments to catch up with his change.
Gathering the bot against his chest as if she were his real child instead of a piece of state-of-the-art equipment, he smiled into her shiny face and looked even more striking than he had before.
“I knew you could find me, Sar. You are brilliant!”
She giggled, a mechanical birdlike sound that eased the tension and fear in Azure’s body and mind.
Innocence overcomes all,she thought, relaxing as the “father” and “child” congratulated each other on a job well done.
“Let’s do it again!” Sar exclaimed, squirming until the male put her down.
With an indulgent smile, he said in a rich voice, “Last time. We have peace talks in less than an hour.”
“Okay, Pemmi!” The robotic child raced off, weaving in and out of the crowd on stubby baby legs that were made of metal strong enough to punch through a wall or a sentient being’s head.
A soft sigh escaped Azure’s lips. The male turned, cocked his head, and gave her a smug half-smile that seemed to say, I know something you don’t know.
She squirmed under his intense, neon-green gaze, her mind racing with questions, but before she could find the nerve to voice them, the male nodded to her with a sudden air of solemnity and walked away in the opposite direction from where his baby bot had gone.
The hormones firing through her urged her to go after him, but because he was not her intimate she was able to ignore her body.
Priorities.
After three unsuccessful attempts at contacting Trius Daylor, she had risked everything to travel to the Equate Space Station to find the legendary union leader who had the ability to conceal her and Corra from those who pursued them across the galaxy, not drool on some depressed male model who spent ridiculous amounts of credit on experimental bots to play games with while at peace talks.
Never mind the horrifying promise of a marriage forced upon Azure. Corra was already trapped in a bad marriage back on their home planet, World One, and Trius was their best chance for a better life. Too bad neither she nor her cousin had more than a passing idea what the male Trius Daylor looked like—other than strong, virile lethal. She was here because of a rumor that Trius used to come to all the peace talks. But that had been with his intimate, and since his female had been killed in the war, maybe Trius had given up on peace. The leader might be nowhere near the Equate Space Station.
With a growl of frustration, she stood and wove her way through the throng of people until she reached the open balcony. She looked down to the busy c
ourtyard several levels below, where clusters of Vitca and Nashete talked separately of peace.
A solid, strongly built male caught her eye. He couldn’t be much older than Azure, but the throng of servants following on his heels told her that she was looking at a powerful person, one who just might be Trius Daylor. And he was working his way through the crowd toward the lifter.
A thrill of excitement tightened her chest as she raced for the lifter that was coming up, carrying the male with it. She made it inside just as the doors began to close on her floor. With one close look she knew the male wasn’t Trius, couldn’t be Trius. How she’d failed to recognize him as a Vitca senator well known for his extreme separatist views, she didn’t know.
But before she could reorder her thoughts, a scent so wonderful, so perfect, followed her into the lifter she lost her breath, knowing immediately what it meant. She looked out the clear wall of the lifter. In the brief seconds before the lifter began its ascent, she saw on the floor below an intense-looking male standing with two others. He scanned the crowd with space-black eyes that held the intensity of a male who had sensed a female matching his trinity-of-being, triggering his hormones so that he harmonized with her physically as well.
He was all hard lines and thick muscle, his black eyes cold, his body built for fighting, hunting, killing. His mouth was a cruel slash across his bitter face. In fact, the only thing warm about his appearance was the color of his skin. Not pale white like hers or deep brown like the Nashete. No, her intimate’s skin shone like a golden sun on a clear day planetside. The kind of warmth she wanted to bask in, wrap herself around and sink into. The kind of warmth she had never known from any male—family or friend. His chin lifted and his nostrils flared, no doubt scenting her.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. Sweat beaded on her skin and her breath came in harsh pants. She thought she might hyperventilate.
“Gods of the unseen universe, help me,” she said under her breath, though why she bothered to pray, she didn’t know. She could catch only a glimpse of him from her vantage point, but if the signals her body was producing were any indication, this was the male the unseen gods had chosen to be her intimate, the one she was meant to meet, marry and mate with while in the seen universe.
And just his proximity had sent her trinity-of-being into overdrive, preparing her to bond with him. Damn it!
Azure didn’t have time for falling in love. She had lives to save.
* * * * *
Lone Lamin considered himself patient in all things. But after hours of encountering prejudice from both the Nashete and Vitca races, he wanted to punch someone in the mouth, knock their teeth down their throat and watch them cough up blood instead of all of those rude little comments they kept making behind their hands.
Maybe his brothers Wharm and Kanaen had been right and they should have used the top secret Nashete transport chips to materialize onto the station. Riding public transportation to make a statement instead had been effective. But damned if the bigotry they’d faced on their way to the peace talks hadn’t taken its toll on their trinity-of-beings. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision to come to this thing. Especially not after their father’s murder had devastated them short months ago.
Their Vitca mother, a female with pure breeding and purer tastes had also been their father’s intimate. A truth she could not swallow for long. As soon as the minimum amount of time required by the peace marriage contract was up, she had abandoned him along with her three sons when they were still children. Their Nashete father had raised them to believe that their dual blood made them special. Not less than the pure bloods. And they had come to the peace talks to honor his memory. Lone reminded himself of this as another group of Vitcas sneered at them down their long, noble noses.
“Pathetic,” Kanaen said loudly as he arched a thick, black eyebrow at the nearest group. “Could they be any more predictable and boring?”
Wharm elbowed their youngest brother in the chest. “Acting like an ass isn’t helping, Kana.”
Kanaen snorted. “They can smell us a mile away. Both races know we’re dual bloods. And neither wants anything to do with us.”
“Patience—” Lone’s voice broke as the air shifted, bringing him a scent so soft and sweet, so moving that his heart lost its rhythm and his blood pooled low. He grew hard. Ready. Alertly waiting for the Vitca female who was his intimate to walk into his life and accept him into hers.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Wharm and Kanaen asked, speaking at the same time. Their empathic ability allowed them to sense his feelings but not know his thoughts. How could they understand his sudden shift in emotions when Lone could barely wrap his head around them himself?
His brothers formed a triangle with Lone, facing out, studying the throng, looking for danger, preparing to fight.
“My intimate is here.” Lone breathed her in again, his mouth watering.
“What?” Wharm asked.
“Where?” asked Kanaen.
“Gods of the unseen universe, help me.” His words came out deep, rough. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain a sense of calm or at least outward decorum as he tilted his head back and inhaled. “Above us. One of the upper floors.”
Standing together as they were, when they tilted their heads back to look up at the higher floors, they formed what the ancient Nashete priests called a “diamond of souls”, three sets of eyes in the shape of a triangle, looking aloft, searching for answers. An auspicious formation that boded well for the search and seizure of Lone’s intimate…if he wanted her, that is.
Despite his body’s reaction, he didn’t want her. Not even a little bit.
“Vitca.” Like his missing mother. Like his father’s killer. She was not for him.
Lone wrinkled his nose at her sweet smell and headed outside to breathe in some artificially fresh air. Station-wide generators recognized his presence and clicked on, circulating air and creating a synthetic night breeze that shifted when his brothers stepped up on either side of him, their body heat warming him when he desperately needed to cool down.
“She is your intimate.” Wharm rested his large hand on Lone’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“I can’t. I won’t accept her,” he bit out, shrugging off his brother’s hand as he studied the Heart Nebula that could be seen past the pink-tinted atmo-shield. Like a watercolor painting done in shades of red, the nebula looked like an explosion of blood and meat, framed by the vast darkness of space and the twinkling of far-off stars. At the center of the explosion was what looked like an anatomically correct heart—all thick muscle and glistening veins. He’d always romanticized the nebula before, but tonight all he saw was death and darkness.
“Just because she’s Vitca doesn’t mean she is anything like our mother…or Father’s assassin. She is probably—”
“Damn you into a black hole, I’m not prejudiced against her. How can I be? I’m half Vitca myself.” He clutched the cold railing, his knuckles turning white.
“Fine, let’s go with that,” Wharm said, his voice soft and unassuming. “Then tell me why you don’t want her.
“It’s not— I just…always imagined myself with a Nashete female. Raising Nashete children together.”
Lone swallowed past the lump in his throat. Who was he kidding? He was a complete hypocrite. Faced with a Vitca intimate, I’d run away? He was as bad as all those bigots inside who sneered at him and his dual blood younger brothers.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to pursue his female. Not with the wound of his father’s death so fresh and deep.
Using their sibling bond, Lone channeled his empathic ability to fill Wharm and Kanaen with the scent and sense of his intimate. “Find her,” he said, “and point me in the opposite direction.”
Wharm and Kanaen thumped him on the back with their fists before moving off toward the nearest lifter to do what he should be doing—pursuing his female.
Lone waited several minutes
before leaving his spot on the empty balcony to cross to a lifter and heading to one of the meeting rooms just one floor above where a session was scheduled to begin soon. Just as the doors began to close, he spotted Kanaen snatching an appetizer off a large, hovering tray.
Sighing, Lone hoped Wharm was doing a better job at locating his intimate. Even after he tried to calm himself with a deep breath and meditative thoughts, his body stayed tightly wound. His trinity-of-being remained needful of the completion only she could give him.
Since he was half Vitca, the necessity to come together physically and intellectually was overwhelming. His Nashete side demanded he romance and bond with her. He had to fight twice as hard as a male from either race to keep himself from finding her, enticing her, claiming her.
He never regretted his dual blood more than in that moment.
He would not give in to his nature—either one—when it meant bonding with a Vitca female. If that made him a hypocrite, he would just have to learn to live as such a fraud.
Chapter Two
Holding her unsteady hand in front of her hotel room’s flashing ID scan, Azure swore as the device failed to read the tiny microchip imbedded beneath her skin. She needed to calm down. Stave off the trembling. But after realizing the male in the lifter wasn’t Trius Daylor…or wasn’t willing to admit his identity to her, and then sensing and seeing her intimate on the ground floor…she could hardly take a steady breath, let alone keep a steady hand.
I don’t want an intimate, I want to be free, she thought, even while feeling childish and irrational for thinking it.
Had he noticed her, the mesmerizing dual-blooded male who was born to share her life? She hadn’t been able to ignore him. His scent alone had captivated her, swept her up in a tide of lust and need.
Corra had been right, dual bloods smelled like lemon sugar, and as the male belonged to Azure, the tart-sweet tang of him made her mouth water and lips pucker for a taste, a kiss—and so much more. If he came after her, she would never be able to resist him. It was simple biology, undeniable instinct.