Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  Like definitely recognized like, and Frank had not been vague with his offer to Osiris for sex. Frank was just his type—tall, blonde, knew how to keep his mouth shut and loyal to a fault. Once he’d enjoyed the masculine wares of Frank, he would trudge down and do what needed to be done with a few of the fertile females.

  With both sexual excitement and dread, Osiris ported to stand in front of Frank’s desk. The calm lift of Frank’s brow in question was all the prompting he needed.

  ****

  Sitting beside the pond, Mick's mind was consumed with the conversation he'd had with Mattie. Had Stacey gone into a second estrus? He didn't think so. His transfer had happened a few days before the SOSC’s raid on Mount Eccles, Australia. Every day he'd made some excuse to go into the breeding-area monitoring room. Every day the camera in her room had showed her pacing her cage. Unless she'd entered estrus the day she was rescued … the idea filled him with anger. None of the females had deserved what happened to them, least of all her. How could she have gotten pregnant?

  Osiris had spoken of attempting in vitro fertilization to boost his infant production; Mick had assumed his father was using one of his medical research facilities toward that end. Mick knew of the research facilities, but his father designated certain sons to certain things, and Mick had never been assigned to those.

  He hadn't voiced his thoughts to Mattie before she left this morning, and now he wished she were here. Not that she could figure it out either, he just missed her … already. Her understanding and forgiveness brought tears to his eyes. She was a miracle; silently he expressed his gratitude for her to the Fates. Often Mattie epitomized the only thing worth living for. He'd given the SOSC everything he knew, he worked hard for Gilgamesh, but nothing he did or could ever do would come close to making up for the horrible things he'd done in the past. Only with Mattie did he have hope. Her belief in him made him want to believe in himself.

  A sound drew his attention; he stood quickly and turned to face Gilgamesh stepping from the trees. It was only a matter of time before his rape came to light. Seeing Commandant Gilgamesh coming for him was inevitable, but flanked by the high-panel healer Herme rather than a group of arresting guards didn't make sense, nor did the friendly smile on both males’ faces. His immunity had been contingent on full disclosure, and withholding his rape of a female violated that agreement.

  “Mick,” Herme greeted him. “Gilgamesh thought you'd be here.” The healer glanced around at the beautiful scenery. “Great spot. I'm sure an area with natural barriers must be quite peaceful for you. Let's talk here.” The healer sat cross-legged and looked at Mick expectantly.

  “I need ta get back. Holler if ya need anythin'.” Gil turned and walked away.

  They weren’t arresting him? Mick swallowed hard on the realization and sank to the grass beside the healer, more confused than he'd ever been in his life.

  “Relax, Mick.” Herme patted his knee in a fatherly way, his manner filling Mick with guilt. “I need to talk to you about a female named Stacey. I'm sure you know … well.”

  Mick nodded and, unable to bear the healer’s kindness any longer, he dumped the entire story on the healer, purging his horrible sin for the second time in less than a day. To his credit, Herme never interrupted Mick, his expression never changed, and he never displayed the disgust or rage the healer surely must be feeling in the face of Mick's crime. A crime far worse in Mick's opinion than outright murder … raping Stacey had been personal, where killing in the name of his father had been following orders, nothing more, nothing less.

  Herme leaned forward intently. “Listen, son ...” Son? The healer’s term of endearment made Mick realize his cheeks were wet with tears. “I'd wage my twelve thousand years of life that you did not rape Stacey.”

  Mick stared at the healer speechless. Didn't he listen to a thing Mick had said? Slowly he shook his head in denial. “She entered estrus. Females are willing take any male then, and I took advantage of that. I raped her.”

  Herme gave him a look of sympathy and continued. “Well, I guess that remains to be seen. We need to go.”

  Mick stood with the healer. “Go where?”

  “To Mesa. We have a lot to discuss.” Herme led the way toward the main campus. Dread curled in Mick’s stomach, but he followed to healer, ready to face whatever consequences were in store for him.

  His dread increased tenfold when he saw Gilgamesh and his mate Innanna, the Presiding Oracle for their kind, waiting for them. The tiny female narrowed her huge violet eyes and glanced at Gil before walking the distance to where Mick and Herme had just emerged from the tropical foliage. “Herme, could you give Mick and I a moment please.”

  Herme smiled, nodded, and kept walking, leaving Mick to look down at the beautiful female. She was kind, but powerful and more than a little intimidating. It was the compassion shining in her eyes that was Mick's undoing. His clash of emotions seemed to cease in the face of her gaze. “Mick, you are very tall, but I want to show you something. Will you bend for me and drop your mental shields?”

  Mick hesitated; the things in his memory horrified him. The idea of exposing that level of degradation to the delicate female before him created a lump in his throat. Releasing a shaky breath, he did as she asked. Innanna placed her hands across his forehead, and an image formed before his mind’s eye.

  Mick saw himself laughing in a grove of mature trees, with laughter surrounding him. He was happy, free.

  The image faded as quickly as it came. He opened his eyes to see Innanna staring up at him. “You deserve that future, Mick. Only you can forgive yourself and clear the path you are meant for.” She turned and walked back to Gil, who tucked her under his large arm against his side. Lucky male, he had the female he loved.

  I want my life. Innanna gave him a smile full of pride as he approached. He engaged his ability to shadow; invisible, he stepped into a chortal and on to the next phase of his life.

  ****

  Huey had returned a few hours ago. The healer was lucky he didn’t get caught with the terrified look in his eyes. Osiris snorted. A simple genetic comparison is all Herme had wanted, and Huey acted as if he’d just escaped an incinerator. Too bad it hadn’t been something more interesting.

  His inbox blinked, alerting him to incoming mail. A few of the reports he’d sent out had returned. One had Mick Tenor in the subject line. Osiris downloaded and printed it, snatching it off the machine while the others printed after.

  Blood Transfusions, Psychic Healing sessions, blah blah. He sat up as he came to the reference about Mental Shielding reinforcement. Seems Umbrae, the bitch who’d eluded death, and his Uncle Eros had been handling Mick’s shield development personally. Interesting. It warmed his heart to read Ten’s physiological evaluation. “Mick continues to suffer from extreme guilt, preferring to remain isolated from others. Even after two years compulsion-free, his fear of them holds him hostage. His depression is worsening since his only friend went on active duty.”

  Friend? Osiris scanned the remaining pages quickly in search of a name for this friend. He roared in frustration when he couldn’t find one, throwing the pages against the loaded printer and scattering them across the room. Two fell side by side. At first he thought the DNA diagrams were of the same person since they looked identical. Mick Tenor was listed on the top of one and Johnny Winkel on the other. Winkel! Osiris picked the pages up to study them more closely.

  Impossible. His mind tried to reject what he was seeing, but the scientific truth blared up at him. Ten was a father. How? What was he missing? Some element eluded him. He re-scanned Stacey’s breeding lab history on his computer. Ten had been her assigned guard during Becoming. He’d reported the female never entered estrus. That wasn’t unheard of; some newly Become females went months before their first fertility. No one had ever questioned the report. It was obvious Ten had availed himself of the female’s pheromones, but that didn’t explain how she could have conceived from him. Osiris had bred hundreds
of Hulven males to females in estrus in the past. He’d banned it as a wasted effort when none of them had conceived, electing instead to use Elven males rather than lose the few windows of opportunity for Elven offspring.

  “Huey, I need your expertise.” He sent the message telepathically through the new mentor bond he had to the healer. Huey appeared before him immediately, eager to please. The change in the healer was humorous.

  “How can I help?” Huey’s loyalty had been assured through his new-found fear of the SOSC, even if Osiris’s technique hadn’t worked. The healer glanced at the mess of papers everywhere.

  “In your trials, did you ever test Hulven semen to a zygote harvested from a female in estrus?” Osiris asked him casually.

  Huey drew his brows nodding. “Many times. From both Elven and Hulven females. The female’s eggs neutralized the Hulven semen without exception. In fact, estrus ovulation destroyed the active sperm far quicker than human or Hulven ovulated eggs do. Why?”

  Osiris debated briefly before pushing the two sheets of paper toward Huey. “Tell me what you see here.”

  Huey glanced between the sheets for a single second. “They are a biological match … father and son.”

  “How can you be sure?” Osiris had worked with researchers for over a century. None of them came to that sure of a conclusion without “further testing.” Annoying as hell, usually.

  “Those are the same tests and results I did for Herme. Though I didn’t have names to go with the subjects.” Huey unloaded a bomb without even knowing it. So, the SOSC were already aware. It would only be a matter of time before Ten learned of it too … if they hadn’t told him already.

  This knowledge was too dangerous to have in anyone else’s hands. Huey was so engrossed in studying the results on Osiris’s desk that he neglected to notice the sword Osiris grabbed from the wall behind him. Huey held his hand to his chin in deep contemplation. “You know the father and moth—” Huey’s eyes widened, noticing the sword in Osiris’s hand as it completed the arc that removed Huey’s head. The healer’s body crumbled to the ground.

  Osiris punched a button on his desk console. “Send someone in to clean up a mess,” he ordered as his eyes returned to the undisturbed results.

  How could Ten be a father? The answer eluded him, but he would figure it out. Perhaps Ten was an anomaly. It was possible; Hulven biology was so individually diverse that their very existence created a conundrum in science. Osiris would put the entire race down after he achieved his goal, except for the iron-rich females. Osiris would take down the high panel, crush the SOSC, and be named ruler. Once he had that, he would enslave all iron-rich female Hulven to tap for blood. Osiris would use them to produce more iron-rich females and Elven young. Anything else would be systematically destroyed at birth. With the Volaticus species returned to the glory they knew during the time of Atlantis and no need for humanity, he’d clean the planet of the parasites known as mankind before targeting the Tellus and Aquaties for genocide. This world would have one apex predator—Volaticus Elven—and Osiris would be the sole ruling king.

  This report threw a wrench in his designs. He needed to determine what made Ten’s semen viable before he killed him. That way he could distinguish the fertile Hulven males from the sterile and keep them in the breeding pool for his future. With that in mind, he turned his attention to the child—Osiris’s grandchild. If Mick could procreate once, he could do it again.

  With a plan forming, he called to Nine telepathically. “Where are you?”

  “Amsterdam,” Nine replied.

  “Have you located the female?” Osiris doubted it. Nine had been bouncing from Amsterdam to whatever other sighting came across his desk. The female’s security staff had laid false trails everywhere once that Moira bitch found he’d infiltrated Stacey’s computer systems.

  “Her plane landed a while ago. I was able to pick up her trail from there. She’s currently inside her corporate building. The plane is scheduled to leave for Mesa any minute with only a human and an Aquatie male on board. I believe the female plans to port there rather than fly, Sire.” So the female had returned to her old stomping grounds after all. At least that tidbit of intel had panned out. The fact that she was there right now made this quest feel like the Fates wanted Osiris to win for a change. Mick had made Osiris’s life very … uncomfortable as of late. Karma had to be on his side.

  “Wire the plane, then port ahead of her to Mesa. Do not lose her trail again.” Originally Osiris had wanted to simply acquire Stacey and see if Ten could be baited out of hiding. Now he wanted to figure out how the two created a child.

  “Yes, Sire,” his son replied immediately.

  Osiris grinned. The SOSC had wreaked enough havoc since Ten’s defection. It was time for some payback.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Johnny filled Stacey’s mind with images of the fun he'd been having. She loved the maternal bond, loved that he could communicate with her on that level. As she watched him playing with Umbrae’s children through the bond, she could see that Johnny had obviously already become acquainted with them, much to the pleasure of her son. He giggled and squeezed her checks as he shared image after image with her. All the while, he alternated between squeezing her face and hugging her neck.

  Johnny must have picked something up from her in their sharing too. He turned his smile toward Conlon standing just inside the door. Johnny reached his arms for Conlon, twisting away from Stacey to get to the warrior. Johnny liked people, yet he wasn't inclined to be held by them. Jack couldn't get near Johnny without him frowning. Conlon asked her permission with a questioning gaze full of … something she didn't quite understand. Stacey handed off her insistent son. Conlon tossed his tiny body in the air, catching her laughing son. He held Johnny with a natural comfort that had Stacey spellbound.

  “Are you a monkey?” Conlon hung Johnny by one foot. “Are you a sloth?” He cradled Johnny in his arms. “Are you a koala bear?” Conlon lifted Johnny by one arm while her giggling son clung to his forearm, loving every minute of it.

  “Byd … byd.” Johnny pleaded with his eyes.

  Conlon grinned and splayed Johnny across his arms. “Bird is it. All right.” He “flew” Johnny in a circle extended from his body. The door opened, and Mattie and Cassie entered.

  Cassie stepped up behind her, giving her a quirked, questioning lift of her brow. Mattie smiled and stood next to Conlon. The sisters had obviously worked out their differences. Meg ducked her head from the kitchen area. “Johnny’s dinner is ready. Mind if I steal this little guy and feed him?”

  To Stacey's surprise, Conlon seemed reluctant to release him. He hugged Johnny and handed him back to Stacey. She gave his cheek a kiss before relinquishing his care to Meg. Her chest clenched at the goofy expression on Conlon’s face as he’d played with Johnny. When had she softened toward him? Shit! Didn't matter, his warmth permeated her rigidity like nothing ever had before. She knew she was falling in love with him. Seemed the harder she fought against it, the faster it pulled her under. Quicksand. How could she be falling for a male she'd never had a real conversation with? A better question was how had her son fallen under his spell so easily. She could feel her son's joy with Conlon through the maternal bond, feel his comfort and happiness in the arms of the fierce warrior.

  A knock on the door broke the spell. Since Mattie was the closest, she opened it and squealed with delight, disappearing through the opening as a handsome Tellus with eyes the color of whiskey ducked in.

  “Hey, Hans, what brings you here?” Conlon asked. His voice trailed off when he saw the way Hans and Cassie stared at each other. “Ahh.” Conlon grabbed Stacey’s hand and yanked her out the door.

  Stacey glared at the male she now knew was Prince Hansi Alba over her shoulder. Pointing her finger at him, she warned, “Prince or not, your balls are a luxury I’ll remove personally.” The male met her gaze with a startled expression and bowed regally.

  Conlon closed the door, leaving C
assie and Hans alone inside. She had every intention of railing Conlon into the ground … until he pulled her into an embrace. His lips came down on hers in a kiss full of desperate hunger. He broke the kiss as suddenly as it began.

  “What was that for?” Stacey’s arms had wound around his neck, her eyes trapped in the dark hazel of his.

  “Your scent is driving me crazy,” he whispered the confession. His forehead pressed to hers.

  Stacey felt lighter inside just gazing into his eyes, as if her world had finally righted itself again. Home. Being in his arms felt like coming home. A throat cleared beside her. Stacey turned and looked into the amused face of a plain-looking male in jeans, cowboy boots, and a T-shirt that declared “The cure for what ails you” and an arrow pointing to his waistband.

  Then she noticed Mattie in the arms of another male whose back was to her. When the couple turned to face them, all of the wind left Stacey’s sails. Stacey eyes were drawn to the tormented expression of a male she hadn't seen in five years. He strode up to her, never tearing his gaze from hers, and Stacey felt her world fall away. She was back in the cage clinging to him, terrified and in pain, trying to listen to him as he explained what was happening to her. Telling her of the Volaticus people, sharing his personal experience with Becoming, coupling with her when her estrus hit, and soothing the raging agony between her legs as he gently took her virginity, she'd been pretty sure she took his also. In Stacey's mind, this man was Johnny's father, no matter that the healers had told her over and over that Hulven were sterile. What she no longer felt was the drawing attraction to him she'd felt back then. Conlon smiled at the male rogue like he was an old friend. “Mick, good to see you.” The plain male in the obnoxious T-shirt shirt shook hands with Conlon. “Herme, what brings you to Mesa?”