Ride the Stars

by Autumn Dawn

  “The bones are cracked, but nothing a little time and an accelerator won’t fix. Two weeks from now and it will be almost as good as new,” he pronounced, staring at the readouts on the scanner Lore had fetched. He sprayed her foot with a analgesic, leaving blessed numbness in its wake.

  Before she could protest, he took hold of her pants leg and ripped it down the seam.

  “Hey! That—”

  He stilled her protest with two fingers to her lips. “Hush.”

  Sulking, she subsided.

  “Good bones,” Skye proclaimed with approval, examining the eggplant colored discoloration. He switched it off and put it back in his medical kit. “It’s just bruised to the bone. Nothing’s broken,” he assured her, then numbed that injury, too. “Let’s get you to the infirmary so that I can patch you up. No need to work on the floor.”

  Instead of helping her to her feet so she could limp to the infirmary as she expected, he picked her up, shocking her nearly witless. “Put me down!”

  She succeeded in amusing him. “Don’t worry. I haven’t dropped a damsel in years now. You’re perfectly safe.”

  Completely mortified, she held her tongue and tried not to think about the hard male body pressed so close to her own. Great. Not only was her dignity almost completely gone, her tea was failing her. Could it be that after all these years she was developing an immunity to it? She’d have to up her dose.

  By the time Skye eased her down to the worktable, she was feeling kind of feverish, and it wasn’t from her injuries. She closed her eyes and pretended otherwise. Desire was the enemy, would never again suffer it.

  No one was ever going to make her feel the fool again.

  Skye’s hand brushed her hair from her eyes and she flinched, her blood roaring like thunder. No! Curling her lip, she pulled away, rejecting his comfort, rejecting her trembling need. It would have been much easier if he had left her some pain to focus on.

  To her dismay, he touched her again, gently gripping her jaw to make her look at him. Searching her face as if he could see behind her eyes, he murmured, “Where does it hurt?” asking about so much more than physical pain.

  For a moment she stared at him, caught by something beyond her ken. Almost it seemed as if an unspoken understanding passed between them. Caught by sudden fear, she closed her eyes tight and pulled away, turning her face to the wall.

  No. Never again.

  “Would you like some more crackers?”

  Jaide’s hackles rose and she opened her eyes warily. Lore stood in front of the couch, holding a wooden bowl of savory crackers studded with crunchy little seeds. No matter what she said, he seemed determined to blame himself for the accident, saying he should have noticed how heavy the rod was and given her a hand. The crackers were just the last in a long line of attempted pampering, and it struck more fear into her heart than a power surge. “I—” she opened her mouth to refuse.

  “I made them myself. Jeeves supervised,” he told her earnestly.

  Jeeves cooed in sympathy and stole a long cracker.

  She shut her mouth and accepted the bowl, along with the glass of vegetable juice he handed her. Never mind that she’d already downed two of the ‘healing’ concoctions. Tasty as they might normally be, for some reason she could barely stand the smell of them. Her vague nausea, combined with her newfound hot flashes and jitters, plus the fact that she was having trouble sleeping, made it difficult not to snap.

  Besides, she was already nearly bursting with the need to unload what she’d already consumed. Taking a polite bite of cracker and finding it exceptional, yet gut churning, she crunched it hastily down, then set the bowl aside and reached for her crutch. “Those are great, but I need to use the latrine, so if you’ll excuse me”

  ”Let me help,” he reached to remove Jeeves from his shoulder, but she pointed the crutch at him like a rifle.

  “No! Don’t even think it.” At his hurt look, she relented enough to explain, “I appreciate your attempts to help, but I can do this on my own. Wouldn’t you feel silly if I tried to do everything for you?”

  Lore cocked his head, considering. “Yeah, maybe, but you’re a—”

  “If you value your life, don’t finish that sentence,” Skye advised, entering the room just in time to save his friend from a knot on his head. Still, like any self-respecting Draconian male, he easily understood Lore’s sense of guilt and need for atonement for the accident. Natural born females of their race were far too precious and rare, and fiercely protected. It was only natural that those feelings carry over to women of other races. Still, he’d watched Lore carefully, making certain his friend wasn’t developing deeper feelings for the woman. As far as he could tell, there was nothing more than friendship and natural affection there.

  Lucky for Lore.

  He watched Jaide carefully as she struggled to her feet and hobbled for the door. “Maybe you should take a couple of days off.”

  Her answer was a fulminating look and a terse, “No thanks.”

  Crossing his arms, he said just as she cleared the doorframe, “As second in command, I could make it an order. You won’t heal well if you don’t take care of yourself. Think of the long-range productivity,” he suggested with just a hint of sarcasm. As one of the beneficiaries of all her hard work, he should have been more pleased. Instead, he felt annoyed, faintly....neglected. He frowned as he realized what he was thinking. This was not a good sign, and these proprietary impulses were going to get him in trouble. Still, she wouldn’t see to her health, and he was the only one available to enforce rest on her troublesome self. As sympathetic as Sesame was, she was far too wrapped up in her work to make a good nursemaid.

  “I’ll be careful,” she allowed after a moment’s consideration. “There’s no reason I can’t work out schematics. I have a few ideas about the cloaking device I’ve been meaning to get down, anyway.”

  She left him glowering at the empty doorway, highly unsatisfied and itching with irritation.

  “I don’t think she knows how to relax,” Lore observed, munching on a chip. His gaze turned sly. “Either that or she fears you more than she lets on. Even if she rarely watched the news, she can’t be totally ignorant of your reputation. Could be she really thinks you’ll eat her alive if she missteps?”

  Perhaps I will. “She fears nothing.” That was her appeal, he realized. Her indomitable will challenged the male in him even as the vulnerable core that kept peeking around her control intrigued.

  Of course, the sight of her in her work clothes didn’t help. She’d never believe it, but the constant view of her dressed in those faded pants and her toolbelt was driving him mad. There was something very cute about a female in masculine gear. Tantalizing. The streaks of grease that often adorned her face only made her look the scampish little girl and did nothing to detract from her appeal. It also didn’t hurt that she was also one of the most intelligent women he knew.

  None of that changed the fact that she was not a woman of his race, and there was no reason to suspect she might wish to be. His language didn’t interest her, she was never happy about participating in mealtime blessings, and it was impossible to miss the distance that she forced between herself and the rest of the crew. Why would she care to adapt to a way of life and a culture so completely alien to her?

  He shook his head at himself. No, he knew better than this. Unless the woman showed some sign of interest in looking over the fence, what he was thinking could never work. There had to be more for him in this than lust. Anything else just wasn’t worth his time.

  Unbeknownst to him, Jaide was looking. At least, one eye was trying to look, but she kept jerking it back into line. They were making it difficult, though. Lore looked in on her constantly, hanging around whether she was in the galley or engineering. Skye was a silent shadow, never interrupting her work or asking annoying questions, but ever in the wings. Even Quadril, whom she knew hated letting her work on the engine he considered his, poked around in the engine room more
than necessary. Finally she set him to fabricating just to give him something constructive to do, gritting her teeth and forcing herself not to look over his shoulder until after he’d left. He was a skilled worker, though, and she had to admit he was a great deal of help.

  She even told him so. Sort of.

  “You did a good job welding that converter,” she offered, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “It wasn’t difficult,” he returned, his tone hovering between annoyance and wary satisfaction. Still, it was the most he’d warmed to her since Sesame had insulted his wiring.

  Jaide was dismayed to find she cared. It was almost as disturbing as her constant tension headache and resulting nausea. Combined with her restless tossing and irksome, inexplicable sweats, it finally drove her to consult Skye.

  He assured her that it was nothing serious, gave her some medicine patches, and sent her on her way.

  They arrived at Walcha Moon Base 7 early the next day. Skye would have expected Jaide to be as enthusiastic as Sesame at the idea of leaving the ship for a while, even if she did need to use a cane at the moment. Instead, she stared out the windshield with a pensive frown, looking more anxious than eager.

  He locked down his controls, then joined her beside the window. Reaching down, he gently grasped her chin and made her look at him. It was a measure of her distracted frame of mind that she permitted it. “What is it?”

  Looking down as she made her admission, she said, “I grew up here.” She paused an unhappy moment. “I don’t like coming back unless I have to.”

  “Because of your brother?” he hazarded.

  She closed her eyes briefly and turned toward the door. “Because of many things.”

  It was almost amusing to watch her long-legged escorts, accustomed to fast, free strides, slow their pace to match hers on the short walk to the parts dealer. In truth, they were much more restrained than Sesame, who couldn’t completely conceal her exasperation at the slow pace.

  A number of pedestrians sent her companions fearful looks, and everyone gave the party a large berth. Jaide couldn’t resist checking Skye out herself, just to see what was causing all the fuss. Along with the others, he’d dressed in black this morning and was again wearing a long, concealing coat. Laser light gleamed off his blast glasses and hard features, casting sinister shadows over his handsome face. In spite of herself, she shivered.

  Stopping before the big window leading into the parts dealer’s, she demanded, “Are you real?”

  He halted, turned, and considered her for about three tense seconds, his expressive eyes hidden by space black plasglass. Then one strong arm came around her back, supporting her as he cupped the back of her head with his free hand. He kissed her.

  Gentle yet commanding, warm lips covered her mouth with stunning possession, stealing breath and wits with ridiculous ease. Feminine lips parted naturally, both allowing and asking for more. He gave it to her. Sizzling and sweet, his tongue stroked and dazzled, sending a shower of sparks cascading behind closed lids. As first kisses went, it was a knee knocker. She completely lost track of where they were until her ragged moan caused him to disengage with one last, seductive lick to her open mouth.

  “What do you think, heartflame, am I real?” he whispered against her lips.

  As real as it gets, baby.

  She had trouble maintaining her balance after that mind scrambling interlude, so Skye steadied her with a possessive hand to her back. A small fist remained bunched in his coat and she leaned heavily on her cane, her eyes still dilated with banked passion as Lore opened the door for them. Skye’s own vision was still clouded with an unseemly amount of electric blue, so much so that he almost missed the warning tilt of Lore’s head. He couldn’t miss the high frequency caution, inaudible to human ears, that he sent, however.

  “Unless you wish to brand her further than you have, my friend, I would disentangle myself. Some....” he raised his brows to convey his extreme doubt, “may have missed this interesting sight, but word will pass quickly that you’ve made her your sstck if you keep such close contact.”

  Skye sent him a dark scowl, discernable in spite of his dark glasses, at the Draconian word for temporary lover. But what else would he have called her? Even though Lore knew from observation that they hadn’t been intimate, Draconian males did not publicly kiss women they didn’t have serious claims on. Doing so was a certain sign of possession, a statement as public as branding. And wouldn’t she be furious if she knew what he’d done?

  It was true that the title of sstck would give her some protection as long as she was with him, for his kind was known as possessive, but once she left his company it would be a marker she wouldn’t need. It might even prove dangerous to her health.

  Bowing to the common sense that seemed to have momentarily deserted him, he pressed a little harder, then took his hand from the small of her back, sliding it down her arm to graze the sensitive nerve at her wrist. She shivered, and her hand relaxed, effecting his release. The action gave him no pleasure. The expression on the shopkeeper’s face as they entered said it had been a useless gesture, anyway.

  Feeling dangerously bereft at the loss of his touch, Jaide fumbled in her pocket for the parts list, sliding the data chip across the counter to the sour proprietor, avoiding Sesame’s inquisitive gaze. She recognized the man from her teenage years, and desperately hoped he’d forgotten her.

  “I see that I can stop worrying about you.” Sesame’s gaze remained straight ahead as she leaned against the counter, and only Jaide’s burning ears heard the soft murmur. “If I’m not mistaken,” she added smugly, “our Skye is going to put an end to your lonely nights.”

  Jaide declined to answer.

  The shopkeeper plugged the chip into his computer, then handed an electronic tablet to his helper, a willowy redhead in her late teens. “Get Ms. Carlos’ parts, Emma,” the man said, dashing her hopes for anonymity.

  Surprise lit the girl’s pale green eyes. “Josie Carlos? But....aren’t you supposed to be fat?”

  “Emma!” the owner thundered, and the red-faced girl jumped, squeaked an apology, and scurried around back and out of sight. “Stupid girl has a big mouth,” he muttered, avoiding Jaide’s mortified face.

  There wasn’t much she could say, so she turned her back on him and leaned her elbows on the counter, pretending to stare out the window with disinterest. She did not want to look at Skye. He’d be chagrined to know what he’d just been kissing, even if it had been borne of too long a stretch in space. Well, he could just take care of that here and she would get some more tea. Something seemed to be wrong with the batch she was currently using.

  Nemesis, Quadril, and Sesame stayed behind after payment to oversee delivery. The moment they exited the shop, Skye demanded, “What did that flotsam mean by insulting you? It was all I could do not to—”

  Jaide cut him off, wanting the subject over with. “Grew up here. The locals all remember me as a blob the size of a small asteroid. They can’t seem to forget from visit to visit that I’ve changed.” She didn’t need to see his face to know he was taken aback by the revelation. Nor did she need prodding to answer his next question. “I think I topped the chart at about 275 back then.” Lore gasped, and even Skye faltered in his stride. Wishing that she, too, wore eye protection, she forced down her humiliation and kept her eyes fast forward.

  Walcha Moon Base wasn’t that big, but the plasglass dome holding in the atmosphere provided a spectacular view of the giant red plant it orbited. Ships ferrying passengers between the closely spaced gas mining stations could be seen coming and going, picking up supplies from the depot or dropping off miners on leave. While Walcha’s entertainment sector wasn’t big, it was growing, fed by the constant influx of bored men and women.

  Jaide watched the ships coming in, their metal hulls gleaming in the light of the binary suns as they moved into docking position. As a girl she’d spent many hours dreaming of escape and adventure on those ships..
..

  She made quick work of her personal shopping, stocking up on her favorite sour candy and toiletries. Clothes she simply selected from racks and shelves with little thought, sticking with simple styles of pants and t-shirts, plain underwear and socks. After all, this wasn’t a pleasure cruise. She made sure to get coveralls in her size, too.

  The only annoyance-besides her cane-was being forced to allow Lore to push the cart containing her purchases. Even though he kept his face politely averted from the contents, it was a relief when her menstrual supplies were decently bagged and out of sight. Finished, she hobbled out of the store with Lore trailing her, leaving Skye behind to stock up on groceries and arrange for delivery.

  The herb shop she sought was nearby, and it only took a couple of minutes of painful hobbling before they were there. The incense scented interior was quiet. Shelves lined with bottles of supplements and jars of loose herbs, all neatly labeled and lined up in alphabetical order, filled the small, warmly lit room. Pausing to sniff at a sample of aromatic oils, she waited for the proprietress to appear. It didn’t take long.

  Wearing a loose fuchsia gown that visually preceded her by at least a yard, Madam Pels entered from a back door. Jaide blinked the violet and green dots from her eyes, caused from the brightness of the dress and the emerald sash that bound the proprietor’s meaty middle. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lore shake his head as if in pain.

  “Hello, my darling! How well you are looking,” Madam enthused, cupping Jaide’s cheeks in her damp palms and wagging her head. “Whatever can I get for you and this charming gentlemen?”

  Jaide cleared her throat and leaned back, sliding her head away. It was difficult enough coming back here, but being forced to deal with the meddlesome, if kind hearted, Madam didn’t help. “Seti tea, please. Two boxes.”

  Madam tsked. “Still drinking that are we? It’s not good for your happiness to keep on with that nonsense, darling.” She eyed the athletic Lore with appreciation. “Why don’t I get you a nice mood enhancer instead?”