With a groan, he pressed his cheek against the floor and prayed that All, who had always watched his back and kept him safe, might get him out of this mess alive.
They just want to question me, he tried to assure himself, and they have no evidence or reason to hold me. These Americans have civil liberties. Without any direct link or evidence, they can’t keep me here.
At that precise moment he heard a buzzer sound, a door open, and there was the sound of footsteps, then the scrape of a chair. ‘‘So you’re awake now,’’ a human male said. Scott sniffed at the air, revolted by the odor of sweat mixed with tobacco, but did not reply. The room was completely dark, so he could see nothing.
‘‘Lieutenant Dillon, we have much to discuss—and I suggest you plan to talk.’’
Shit. They knew his name, an his rank, which meant he had only one option: to refuse to speak English.
A pair of hands jerked him onto his knees and he cried out; his ribs were bruised and swollen. The overhead light came on, and he winced at the startling brightness. As his eyes adjusted he saw that two Air Force officers stood over him. They would be his interrogators, which was hardly a surprise since they’d been his captors too. No doubt he was currently in Cheyenne, at Warren Air Force Base.
‘‘Will you cooperate?’’ the beefy, second man asked. He wore a colonel’s insignia on his shoulder.
Scott gave a brief nod, but said nothing, and they hauled him onto his feet, unfastening his hands from behind his back. His feet remained manacled together, attached to a chain on the table leg. The other man, the sweaty one Scott presumed would be his interrogator, smiled at him and indicated the chair across the table.
‘‘Good. Then let’s begin by discussing Refaria.’’
Thea scrambled down the path that led from the cabin to the security perimeter along the main road. Snow and glazed rocks caused her feet to slide, but she had to get away, had to breathe. The sun had set and they still had no idea where Scott had been taken, more than twelve hours after his capture. She loved her commanding officer like a brother, and now their enemies had him. Those horrid, despicable humans who didn’t have a clue that Jared and Scott—all of them—were risking their lives to protect this planet.
Tears burned her eyes, and still she stumbled headlong into the darkness. The emotions were too familiar, reminding her of all the people she’d lost back on Refaria. All the bloodshed. She couldn’t add Scott to that list, not him of all people.
Ahead of her she heard a noise and stopped stock-still for a moment. There was someone just below her on the trail, probably one of the patrols. But then she caught the familiar, earthy scent of Marco McKinley, even before she made out his shadow in the snowy, moonlit path below her.
She took several more steps in his direction, slipping and sliding. She’d never needed another person so badly in all her life; her heartbreak over Scott’s capture had clearly left her too emotional. I have to pull it together. But clear flashes of images flipped through her mind: Marek holding her, wrestling her body beneath his own angrily. Bad love, possessive fury, brutal passion. Had it ever been good for them in that other life?
Tears immediately burned her eyes, and all their mutual protests fell to pieces in her heart. I don’t care if it can only lead to pain, she thought, stepping over a fallen limb. I don’t care about duty or obligation. I only want to be with him!
Marco stood near the security gate, all his senses on alert. He kept inhaling deeply, trying to detect the scent of their enemy, the frigid air burning his lungs. It was almost might and other patrols were on duty, but as Madjin to those back up the mountainside, he couldn’t rationalize being anywhere else but on this security detail. With Scott Dillon taken, all his fears for his king and queen had intensified multifold. He was thankful for the full moon and that it lit the path clearly, taking some of the edge off the darkness.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead, as he turned back along the path that tracked beside the main road. He raised his night-vision binoculars to study the terrain, but was alarmed when he heard a soft rustling behind him. He spun on his heel, inhaling quickly, as he raised a hand to throw up his shield. But the scent that quickly filled his senses wasn’t that of the enemy; it was the heady perfume of wildflowers touched by sunlight.
Thea stood just above him on the path. The moonlight shimmered over her long blond hair, which fell loose and wild over her shoulders. Shadows played across her features, obscuring her face.
‘‘Thea,’’ he whispered, his heart pounding frantically. ‘‘Why the hell are you out here?’’ She’d scared the living shit out of him, appearing from nowhere. It wasn’t safe for her to be here, either, and not just because of their enemies.
‘‘I’m sorry.’’ Her voice sounded broken. ‘‘I was . . .’’ Then he got it—of course, she was devastated by Scott Dillon’s capture. The two of them were obviously very close, and he had hardly seen her since their return to base camp.
‘‘You were what?’’ he asked much more gently, taking several steps closer. She stared down at the ground between them, then turned as if to walk away. He caught her arm, spinning her back toward him. ‘‘Tell me, Thea. Tell me why you came down here.’’
She shook her head, taking a step back. ‘‘I had a dream—about the ambush last night, and I felt so trapped,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Scott. . . .’’ He could see her so clearly now, the moon illuminating her water blue eyes perfectly. ‘‘And I was worried about you; I knew you were out here on patrol . . . It was stupid. I’ll go.’’
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip on her small wrist. ‘‘I’m okay,’’ he stated simply after a long moment.
‘‘I see that now,’’ she breathed, and he realized he’d been stepping slowly closer toward her so that only the smallest distance separated them.
‘‘You shouldn’t have come out here,’’ he chided her, stroking her hair. ‘‘It’s far too dangerous.’’
‘‘I see that now too.’’
And her simple words were too much for him—he had no choice but to kiss her. He cupped her face within his hands, and bent down toward her. Gods in heaven, she was so small, much more delicate even than he’d realized in his bed the other night. But finally their lips did meet as she tilted her face up toward him. Her breath was incredibly warm, and her mouth even softer than he remembered. They kissed slowly, their lips just lingering together for a long moment, and he felt her tongue dart within his mouth.
Then the most unexpected thing happened . . . something absolutely exploded between them. All the tantalizing desire they’d been toying with just ripped wide open, and Marco felt energy roil all through his body. In his stomach, his chest, all along his skin. Nothing had prepared him for it; nothing possibly could have.
Her sure hands threaded through his hair as she trailed kisses across his jaw, down onto his neck. He nipped at her ear, kneading her thick hair within his hands, as he worked her backward against a nearby tree, pinning her there with his body. He already strained painfully within his uniform pants, and now he knew she could feel it. But this time he didn’t care . . . he wanted her to know just how strongly she affected him. He was dizzy with it, desperate as the heat just kept cresting within his body.
She touched him below his parka, rubbing her flat palms across his chest, and he slipped his hands beneath her sweater, right up against her warm, smooth skin.
Unable to stop himself, he growled his need for her—loudly. But he couldn’t control his Refarian nature, not with her. Not like this. At the sound of his mating cry, Thea threw her head back, arching against the tree where he had pinned her. She made her own, much softer, answering growl of kittenish pleasure. He dipped his head lower, nibbling at her collarbone, licking, tasting. And, ah, so beautiful, taking her scent into his lungs. For a long moment the overpowering sweetness of her aroma dizzied him—so much so, he had to still for a moment.
‘‘Thea
,’’ he panted, burying his face against the top of her head, ‘‘I have never . . .’’ Never what? Never ached like this? Longed like this? Never made love to anyone in my life?
She took hold of both his hips, pulling his groin tight against her. His hardened cock pushed into the softer flesh of her belly, making his face burn. She smiled up at him, holding onto his waist with both hands. ‘‘Never what?’’ she asked seriously.
‘‘Never needed a woman like this,’’ he barely managed to whisper. ‘‘I’m sorry.’’
She frowned at him. ‘‘Why would you be sorry?’’
‘‘You’re upset—I can’t give you . . . anything.’’
‘‘I was upset when I came out here,’’ she explained patiently, staring up into his eyes. ‘‘But the minute I saw you, Marco? The moment you spoke and I felt your protection . . . there was only one hope for me. Just like the other night. That you’d make love to me.’’
He sucked in a breath of air, pressing his eyes shut. ‘‘I told you that I can’t.’’
‘‘That was before,’’ she whispered huskily, slipping one hand between their two bodies, then gently between his legs. Slowly, arousingly, she took hold of his erection through the material of his uniform pants, which did nothing to protect him from the erotic touch of his lieutenant. He wrestled with her, grasping her wrist, trying to stop her.
‘‘Please, Thea—’’ he choked, trembling with his intense need for her. ‘‘I beg you, please.’’
She stilled—but did not remove her hand. ‘‘Am I doing it wrong?’’ she asked earnestly, searching his face.
He couldn’t help laughing. ‘‘Hell no!’’ He released her wrist, clasping her shoulders. Slowly he pushed away, leaving her breathless and with lips parted, still backed up against the tree. ‘‘That was perfect.’’
‘‘Then why did you stop me?’’
He smiled at her, adjusting his pants so that his jutting hard-on wouldn’t be so apparent by the bright moonlight. ‘‘Because otherwise, Thea Haven, I’d have dropped you to this frozen ground and fucked you senseless. That’s why. Not terribly romantic, but there you have it.’’
‘‘What if I wanted that?’’ she asked, pushing off from the tree. He began to walk along the trail, hoping she would let him leave her. Praying to All to give him enough strength to walk away.
‘‘Doesn’t matter,’’ he told her, trying to sound cold and unfeeling. Behind him, he heard the crunch of leaves and frozen ground as she matched him pace for pace.
‘‘It does to me.’’
‘‘I’m Madjin,’’ he reminded her again. ‘‘We don’t take lovers.’’
‘‘I’m a soldier. We don’t abstain.’’
He spun on her, hot jealousy bursting forth within him. Unexpected, but absolutely suffocating. ‘‘Who the hell’s had you, Thea? You tell me now or—’’ He clenched his hands at both sides, ready to storm any of Jared’s military compounds. Whoever had slept with his Thea would know his wrath.
‘‘Or what? You’ll make love to me, right here, right now?’’ She snorted. ‘‘Now that’s a threat.’’
He took hold of her by the shoulders, wrestling to still his frantic heartbeat. ‘‘Just because I can’t have you doesn’t mean I’m not jealous,’’ he confessed in a hushed voice. ‘‘Doesn’t mean I don’t want you, more than you’ll ever understand.’’
‘‘Your Madjin rules are insane. It’s asking too much, that you remain alone.’’ She shook her head, staring at the ground between them. For long moments neither of them spoke, with only the nighttime wood noises filling the void. Then, at last, she raised her clear blue eyes and leveled him with her gaze. ‘‘I wouldn’t tell anyone,’’ she whispered. ‘‘It could just be our secret.’’
‘‘Who has had you?’’ he countered in as even a voice as he could muster. ‘‘Many? Few? Hundreds? At least tell me that.’’
She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘‘You don’t deserve to know.’’ She put her back to him, slowly hiking away.
Suddenly all the sacrifices, all the Madjin ways, shattered into nothing. He caught up with her easily and, clasping her arm, spun her to face him. ‘‘I’m a virgin,’’ he told her softly. ‘‘I wasn’t lying about that.’’
‘‘You’re telling me that now because . . . ?’’ She made a rolling motion with her hand, urging him to fill in the blank. It was hard to believe how jealous Marco had become. Was he grappling for her trust, was that it? Or did he feel genuinely repentant for his unearned possessive streak?
‘‘Because I do want you, Thea Haven. So damn bad it’s killing me.’’ He raked both hands through his black, thick hair until it stood on end, disheveled and sexy. ‘‘The feelings—these emotions—Gods help me! It’s an avalanche and I’m getting buried here.’’
She planted a hand on her hip. ‘‘Then why don’t you do something about it?’’
Clouds of breath formed between them as he struggled to breathe. Watching her—thick blond curls shimmering in the moonlight, tight little figure outlined by her uniform pants—actually led him to one thought: He would drop her right here on the trail and possess her, just like he’d told her. And he would allow her to possess him, his vows be damned to hell—and their class differences be damned to hell too. He took a step closer toward her, touching his abdomen with his open hand. He knew all about her core self, the one made of fiery, golden energy—that had to be the explanation for the inferno building within his body. It was beyond desire; it was palpable heat.
He took another step closer, ready to take her completely, when there was the sound of a car on the highway along the perimeter. Instantly, he stopped, turning from her as he grabbed his binoculars.
He stood watching the eerie glow of the fading headlights, and guilt engulfed him—terrible, agonizing self-blame because this little indiscretion might easily have cost them all their lives. He’d just compromised a security patrol because he’d been unable to control his mating urges. He stood, his back toward her, drawing in uneven, burning breaths. Slowly, he turned to face her, and knew exactly what he had to say.
He stepped toward her quickly, pushing her until she stood with her back still against a tree, panting raggedly. The way they affected one another was unbelievable . . . insane.
‘‘Thea,’’ he began quietly. ‘‘This cannot happen.’’ His voice was firm, his words final. ‘‘It will only lead to danger for all of us, don’t you see?’’
She shook her head in silent disagreement, and he swore tears pooled within her large eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her. Gods, it was the last thing he wanted. ‘‘In the chamber, Thea? I saw things. New things, not just the memories of you and me. I’m dangerous. You’re right about that. I’ve done bad things . . . or could do bad things, I guess,’’ he blurted, reaching to touch her hair. ‘‘You make me half crazy, and I’m not sure that’s good. Not with what I’m capable of.’’
Her lips parted as if she were going to say something, but then she hesitated, simply regarding him for a long moment. Then, at last, she whispered, ‘‘What are you capable of, Marco—other than breaking my heart?’’
He winced, dropping his head for a moment. He longed to tell her of his betrayal. That he had—in this parallel universe or time—kissed their queen. Had apparently been in love with her. But he knew that to explain that, he would have to hurt Thea. ‘‘A bonding between us can only bring heartache in the end,’’ he explained, his voice incredibly thick with emotion. ‘‘Don’t you see that?’’
Her head jerked upward in obvious surprise, and only then did he realize what he’d let slip. ‘‘Who said anything about bonding?’’ Thea asked quietly, not mocking him, just genuinely taken aback. ‘‘Why can’t this just be something . . . casual?’’
Because nothing with you could ever be casual for me . . . if I take even one step with you, there’s no turning back. Never.
That was what he wanted to say, but he could only stare at her, his heart hammering like a
freight train. He had no idea how to answer her at all, and was grappling with some kind of explanation when his communicator beeped, piercing the silence abruptly.
He punched the button on his forearm. ‘‘Marco, you need to get back right now,’’ came Sabrina’s voice over his mobile unit. ‘‘We’ve tracked Lieutenant Dillon. We know where they’ve taken him.’’
He reached for Thea’s hand and began sprinting with her up the path. They’d just been spared a very painful moment, but he also felt they’d lost something precious in the process. They’d been at a crossroads, where the balance might still have swung either way—but this interruption had changed that irrevocably. Because he had no doubt that neither of them would ever let things explode so heatedly ever again.
Chapter Fifteen
Hope Harper was jarred awake by the sound of her bedside phone ringing. Reaching for it, she managed to knock a bottle of water on the floor and send her alarm clock flying halfway across her bedroom. ‘‘Damn it!’’ she muttered, cursing her bad eyesight as she pulled the receiver to her ear. Even in the dark, she should have been able to make out shadowy details because of her alarm clock light. Not anymore.
‘‘Harper.’’ She put on her professional voice; it was probably somebody from work.
Her supervisor said, ‘‘Morning, Harper.’’ Her first thought: She’d have to leave her very warm bed to deal with whatever was going on.
She heard him draw a breath, then hesitate. She sat up; she knew Robbie Chambers extremely well, and something big had gone down. ‘‘You need to get dressed and come on in,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘There’s a subject we may need your help with. Pull up everything you have on those intercepts once you get here.’’
Hope’s heartbeat sped up. ‘‘The subject’s Refarian?’’ she asked, her thoughts racing wildly, but her boss made no answer.
The receiver simply went dead.
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