Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  Everything in him wanted to hold her … comfort her somehow. Only his sense of duty held him in place. When the medical team entered, she snapped her head up. “What do you want?”

  Per protocol, no one spoke to her; they rolled in an exam table and testing equipment and then stepped back out. Giving a nod to Mick, soldiers entered next. The female fought, screamed, and cried. Normally Mick would help in restraining his temporary charge, but the idea of hurting her … disturbed him. Once she was strapped down with bands across her chest and hips, her arm extended and secured, and her feet bound into stirrups, the soldiers cleared the room for the medic to come back.

  A solider stood at the door holding a video camera, recording the blood draws, swabs, scans, female exam, an injection of Elven blood to speed up her Becoming … textbook procedures. Mick had seen it hundreds of times. In fact, he had gone through something similar during his own Becoming. They gave her a light tranquilizer, returned her limp body to the mat, and exited, leaving Mick and the female alone.

  Now it would be up to him to observe her, alert the compound leader if and when she entered estrus, and stay in attendance while an Elven stud … or two … copulated with her. Since the males Osiris used for this particular chore had a tendency to be aggressive, the males were given fifteen minutes out of every hour of estrus to get the job done. If necessary, Mick had orders to tranq the male, but as long as the males didn’t actually kill the females, they could do whatever they wanted to them before and during the sex act. Why did that thought suddenly bother him? Hulven females were nothing more than a source of blood for the anemic, and brood chattel to increase Hulven and Elven population under Osiris’s control. A war was coming, and homegrown soldiers were a priority.

  When she awoke the second time, she was calm. Her expression concealed any emotion behind a look of determination. “Who are you?” He should have remained silent at all times, yet he couldn’t look away from the rich, sapphire-blue color of her eyes. She shrugged. “Well my name is—”

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t … need to know. Nor do I want to.” Pissed that she had uprooted his usually unaffected demeanor, he cursed under his breath. “Just keep your mouth shut.” Maybe the part of him that wanted to hear her voice more would get the hint too.

  She swallowed loudly with a single nod. “Fine.” Her defiant gaze never left his as they sat in silence for hours.

  “Are you a monster too?” she asked point blank when the strain of quiet became too much, for both of them.

  Mick tried to hold his tongue, berating himself when he responded. “Of sorts.”

  “What are you … exactly?” Explaining the enlightened species was not part of his assignment. She’d figure it out just like everyone else eventually did.

  Don’t talk to her, don’t talk to her, don’t talk to her. Despite every ounce of training, he found himself answering. “I am a Hulven, a human/Elven hybrid within the Volaticus species … just like you.” He watched her eyes widen slightly.

  “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Suddenly she cried out and gripped her stomach. Her Becoming was beginning.

  Mick felt a wave of compassion. He straightened from the wall and removed his shirt. His dentes erupted into his mouth and he wiggled his ears, using the highly developed skull musculature of their kind, and extended his wings from his back. “This is what I am and what you are about to Become.”

  Warning bells going off, calling himself every name in the book, clenching his jaw till it ached—nothing he did countered the extremely powerful draw he felt toward her. In the end he talked her through every horrible moment, explaining everything that was happening to her. He told her of the Aquaties and Tellus. He’d never talked so much to another living soul in his life. Then he smelled her scent spike, signaling the beginning of estrus. Her pheromones hit his groin like a freight train.

  With stiff, painful steps, he’d walked to the alert button as she begged him to sooth her body’s needs. Only instead of doing his duty, he found himself buried to the hilt and easing her estrus with his useless Hulven male, sterile seed. He'd pounded and poured himself into her estrus-induced willing body for hours before her hormones and pheromones had calmed, signaling the end of her fertility. Luckily for the female, it had been her first estrus and had lasted far shorter then it would for her in the future. Though he'd satisfied her out-of-control libido and probably saved her from getting pregnant, he'd still raped her—a line he had sworn never to cross. The fact that he had didn't make sense unless it had been a compulsion of some sort.

  He would never forget the glazed, hypnotized look on the girl’s face while she thanked him and dozed off. Thanked him—the beast who had raped her when she was most vulnerable. She thanked him. Just thinking about it made him sick, especially when her memory gave him an erection. Why did his body react to her then and now? Where was she? Had she been one of the females rescued by the SOSC a few weeks later? Fates, he hoped so.

  Chapter Three

  “Get out,” Stacey barked at Cassie, her eyes riveted to her son, drowning in the big, gray/blue eyes of her baby. The light from the windows shined through on his soft, black curls, creating a halo effect.

  Cassie just grinned, closed the book, and looked at her defiantly. Johnny toddled over with his arms raised to Stacey, and she scooped him into her arms and spun around in circles till he giggled. “Cassie, leave.” Normally Cassie was the only person allowed to spend time with her and Johnny in the same room. Stacey actually preferred to have Cassie around, just in case, but today, Cassie had pissed her off. Pissed off made her more unstable. Better if Cassie was out of the room.

  With a sigh, Cassie shrugged and left. Stacey took Cassie’s vacated seat with Johnny on her lap, flooding him with her love through the maternal bond. He returned the feeling. A lump formed in her chest. Using her imagination, her wishes came to the surface of her mind, and she transferred them to Johnny telepathically.

  It was a beautiful sunny day beside the lake at her childhood estate. She and Johnny were having a picnic on the grass under the giant shade tree that Stacey had climbed as a kid. She tickled Johnny, making him giggle in his sweet way. Hand in hand, they walk to the shoreline. She handed him rocks and clapped proudly when he hurled them a few feet into the water.

  Johnny smiles as his eyes fluttered with drowsiness. “You hungry, sweet boy?” Stacey offered her wrist. Stacey focused on the lake image again as Johnny’s dentes punctured gently into her vein. She tried to tunnel the energy toward her imaginary water source. Control, control, control. Her head pounded with the effort. Beads of sweat rolled unchecked from her forehead, down her neck, between her breasts.

  Once he slept, he broke from her wrist. His lips, red from her blood, lifted in an adorable grin from whatever he dreamed of. Stacey let out a sigh of relief and resumed the visual feast of her son. Since full Elven young mature at a slower rate, Johnny was developmentally the same as a two-year-old human, though chronologically he was over four. That suited Stacey just fine—she wanted him to stay little for as long as possible. Unlike her, he was born with psychic ability and all of the other traits of the Volaticus species. He didn’t have language stills yet, but she could monitor his emotions all the time. Sometimes when he felt strongly, he would telepathically send her images. The mother/child bond filled her with gratitude, love, and joy. She flooded his psyche with her love for him again and marveled when he returned it even in repose.

  She’d already bloodlet an ample stock of her blood for Johnny. When her time became short, she created a telepathic bridge to Cassie, aware that all the Volaticus security would hear it as well.

  “Cassie, have Meg put Johnny down for a nap.”

  Johnny stirred from the sound of Stacey’s telepathic voice and then settled back down as Meg lifted his sleeping form from her lap. Though human, Meg had the heredity line in her palm denoting her ability to carry Elven/human offspring. Being Heredity human, Meg had been hunted b
ut luckily not captured by rogues. The SOSC warriors intercepted the trappers, made Meg aware of the enlightened species, and placed her under their protection. Eventually Meg found herself living in the same community Stacey had. Meg didn’t like Stacey much, which was a point in the girl’s favor. However, she loved Johnny, and she had become friends with Cassie. When Stacey had purchased her property and moved, hiring Cassie to head up security for Johnny, Meg had come along and taken a nanny position.

  When Meg and Johnny were out of sight, Stacey released a breath and stood. Cassie waited just outside the door and matched her stride down the hallway to the foyer. Stacey ignored her. “So how long do I get the silent treatment this time?” Cassie smirked.

  A surge of energy through the energy weave surrounding the property heralded the SOSC warrior’s arrival. Stacey opened the front door to see her luggage being loaded into the limo and answered Cassie over her shoulder. “Until karma catches up with you.”

  A soft, pained intake of breath from Cassie caused Stacey to look at her. “You got that wish,” Cassie muttered, her dark skin pale and her expression full of hurt. WTF? Nothing ever shook up Cassie. She effortlessly took care of everything and everyone around her. Cassie was a rock.

  Stacy turned back and saw the warriors approaching. Oh, great fricken’ Universe—it was him. Heat rushed to her womb. A flood of moisture made her panties instantly slick. No, no, no. This was sooo not what she needed right now. Stacey quickly shifted her gaze to the mocha-skinned female walking beside the “should be illegal” male. The Tellus looked so much like Cassie they could be sisters … oh Fates, Cassie’s sister? That would explain her friend’s reaction. Cassie had been cast out of her colony and disowned by her queen mother twenty years ago. It was a painful memory and one Cassie didn’t talk about much. And, gauging from the flash of indignant fury on the warrior Tellus’s face, neither of them where happy to see the other.

  The Elven lickable Popsicle, however, smiled broadly and stepped past Stacey without so much as a “may I come in” to lift Cassie into a bear hug. “Princess Cassiopeia.” He set Cassie back to her feet. “What’s it been now … twenty years?”

  Stacy hated the concern she felt about the hurt in Cassie’s face, but not nearly as much as she hated the twinge of jealousy she felt when the warrior was hugging Cassie. The attraction she felt to the tall bundle of hard muscles with clean-cut brown hair and dark hazel eyes (which were looking at her with appreciation and desire too) was completely unacceptable. She’d had a similar reaction the first time she saw him, though he didn’t notice her that night. He’d been one of the SOSC warriors there during her rescue. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Damn it, why did it have to be him the SOSC sent for her escort? She couldn’t count how many times she’d dreamed of him over the years.

  Stacey focused her irritation at the logical of the two confusions. “Get the hell out of my house,” she snapped. The male lifted his brows, challenging her. “Jack!” she yelled for her chief of security. The Aquatie hustled into the room with Mark right on his heels. “Get him out of my house. Now.”

  She heard Cassie whisper to the warrior. “She’s serious, Conlon. Unlike you, we work for her. Jack will hate it, but he will throw you out.”

  Stacey could have sworn she heard Conlon chuckle as he walked past her onto the porch where Cassie’s sister stood. Asshole. Jack stepped out with them, and Stacey slammed the door closed behind them. “Great Fates, Cassie, you called for your sister to escort me?”

  Cassie shook her head, her eyes filled with tears. Tears? Stacey choked back her sympathy. “I didn’t know they’d send Mattie, I swear. You were right, I shouldn’t have called them.” A single drop fell down her cheek before she averted her face.

  Stacey couldn’t help the slight softening of her tone. “I’ll send them away.”

  “You can’t. I knew you’d be a pain in the ass about it, so I requested your escort be a SOSC assignment. The only one who could change it would be their commander.” Cassie sounded miserable. Mark stood by quietly, trying not to be noticed. After all of this time, no doubt the human had a pretty good idea that not everyone he worked with was human. He even asked once what the SOSC was. Stacey had told him to mind his own damn business, which he did, most of the time. Right now he was being nosy. Stacey could practically hear the wheels in his sharp mind trying to figure out what the hell Cassie was talking about.

  “Mark, go make sure they don’t forget any of my bags.” Stacey sent him on another task to get him out of the way and guided Cassie to sit in the living room. “Talk to me, Cassie.”

  “I always hoped to see Mattie someday. Honestly, I’ve been kind of hurt that she never looked for me after our mother—. Her anger is understandable, but I guess I’d hoped for a different reaction.” Cassie sighed. “Mattie will be a great guard, though. Conlon too. They are both fierce.” She forced a chuckle.

  “Tell me about … Conlon. How do you know him?” Stacey wanted to slap herself when the question slipped past her lips. The less I know about him, the better. She sat forward anxiously, waiting for Cassie to answer.

  Knowingly, her friend gave her a half-grin. “Conlon is gorgeous. I can see why you might find him attractive.”

  “Are you on drugs? I am not attracted to him. If he’s going to be stuck to me like a cling-on fabric-softener sheet, it would be nice to know that you at least trust the guy.” She hoped her haughty act worked.

  Cassie’s half-grin mutated into a disbelieving smirk. “Right.” Her amused expression faltered as she continued. “Conlon and his family live on the surface above my … former colony.” The hitch in Cassie’s voice was heartbreaking. “On the day I was cast out, it was Conlon who found me so distraught I could hardly function. He never pushed me to tell him what happened. I must have shared enough information for him to get the gist, because the next thing I knew he had me set up with the SOSC for a job and housing. He gave me some money, too. If it weren’t for him, I probably would have surrendered and killed myself that day. It was his kindness that got me through it.”

  Good. He was a nice guy. Stacey could easily make a nice guy hate her. Then her attraction to him would be one-sided and thereby nullified. With her plan of action set, she told Cassie goodbye and slid into the limo to sit beside Mark. The second Conlon climbed in and sat across from Mark next to Jack, that resolve was put to the test. She sent him a scathing scowl while internally soaking up the fine details of his long legs, his bulky thigh muscles beautifully packaged in faded denim. The snap-front cowboy shirt and brown leather jacket fit him nicely too. His response to her scowl was to quirk a grin, stretch out his legs, rudely invading Mark’s foot space, lean back, link his fingers behind his head, and close his eyes. What did the ass think he was here for—a nap?

  “If you plan on trailing behind me like a puppy, I hope you at least brought appropriate attire,” Stacey snarled. Conlon opened one eye and peeped at her. “I have business meetings and dinners scheduled every day. Plus on-site manufacturing inspections and …” She looked at Mark, who opened his briefcase and handed Conlon a full itinerary.

  Conlon sat forward and scanned the document before handing it back to Mark and resuming his lounge position.

  “Oh, you can keep that copy, Mr. Einar,” Mark offered, ever helpful.

  “I remember every stupid, dangerous thing on that list without a copy.” Stacey felt her mouth gape, mirroring the other two people in the car. The stunned expressions were completely lost on Conlon, since his eyes were closed again.

  Stacey pushed the button to talk to the driver. “Pull over. Mr. Einar is getting out.” The car slowed to a stop, and the driver opened the door to let Conlon out. And waited. And waited. Conlon never moved an inch, nor did he give any indication that he was going to. “You hog the foot space. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, Einar,” she finally barked. He opened one eye at her again and yawned … actually yawned. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded.

&nb
sp; “Ms. Winkel, I don’t work for you. The SOSC has ordered me to protect you, and until they say otherwise, I will do my job, whether you like my foot-space hogging or not. You are an assignment. Now, if you would like me to switch places with Mattie, I’d be willing to get out, but one or the other of us will be in this car with you.” This time he opened both eyes to look at her. Oh, baby, he had the kind of dark hazel eyes a girl could get lost in.

  Shit! No weakening! She found something to look at out the window. “Then call her over, because I sure as shit don’t want you in here.”

  He snorted a laugh and she felt the pulse of energy Conlon used to bridge his partner. Instead of elation, disappointment gripped her when Conlon exited to be replaced by a brooding Mattie.

  “It’s like an oven in here,” Mattie muttered with a blush as she texted on her phone. Stacey reached up and flipped on the air conditioning. At least she had silence the rest of the drive. And time to reminisce about every gorgeous detail of Conlon in peace.

  Chapter Four

  Huey shrugged out of his lab coat and tossed it into the basket. The last in-vitro fertilization attempt had resulted in yet another failure. It was also his last ovum, which meant he was going to have to get in touch with Osiris again and arrange to harvest female Hulven or heredity human eggs, or trade for some. A call he dreaded to his core—Osiris's omnipotent, narcissistic delusions of world domination where making the megalomaniac demand too much lately. Osiris had repeatedly indicated that his research facilities were equipped to find the answer to the problem Huey had dedicated the last few centuries to solving—male Hulven sterility. Osiris dangled his resources in front of Huey's face like a proverbial carrot. Osiris had voiced his desire for Huey to declare an oath to him and become a full-fledged informant many times.