Broken Vision

by J. A. Clarke

  "What's his problem?" she said to Sharm. "I heard him half way down the dock. Everyone else did too. Where's the shuttle?"

  "The shuttle," he told her through gritted teeth, "is on its way back from the MagnaStar. Where have you been?"

  The emotions warring inside him did nothing for his patience. His intense relief at her appearance was quickly overcome by a strong desire to grab her and shake her. That was followed just as quickly by a need to bend her back over his arm and kiss her until she caved to his every desire.

  She turned, a surprised look on her face. "On Pallas Four."

  "Neither dock recorded your trip."

  She looked even more surprised. "I told you. Smart dock," she said. "Morgon has one here too. Which I didn't know about until a cycle ago."

  "You're late." Alerik made a huge effort to recall his patience. What had she told him and when? Was he continuing to lose parts of his memory?

  Morgon stood beside his niece, as always, a pillar of cool calm, even in the midst of a gathering storm. Today he wore typical Mariltar clothing of tunic and breeches in shades of dark blue, and half boots. His face bore a faint expression of amusement. His silver temple mark glowed clear and bright. He clearly had no concerns about his niece's behavior. "Mechanical problems." He followed that brief statement with a toothy grin. "Lost thrusters when she exceeded the new shuttle's velocity recommendations."

  "What?"

  A muffled sound escaped from Sharm.

  Maegan shoved at her uncle's arm. "Why did you tell him that? He fusses like an old bidaque as it is."

  This time, Sharm didn't bother to hold back his chuckles.

  Out of patience again, Alerik reached for Maegan. She slid nimbly away from him, putting her uncle between them.

  "You could have let someone know where you were and that you were going to be late." He'd deal with the issue of her sneaking off later. That had to stop. The stories Sharm had told him, when he'd been lying confined in the healing pod again, had raised the hair on his nape.

  She peered at him from Morgon's other side. "I did. Didn't you check your comm?"

  Sharm doubled over howling like a fool. Morgon, to his credit, seemed to be trying to control his grin. Alerik had turned his comm off when every report had been negative on Maegan's whereabouts. Sharm received the same reports and would fill him in as necessary. He hadn't thought for one nan that Maegan would contact him directly.

  "Here's the shuttle." Maegan threw her arms around her uncle's neck. "I'll miss you so much."

  "Be good, leela," her uncle cautioned in return. "Remember, he's just a man and your mate. Communication is always good in a relationship. I'll come to visit soon."

  Just a man?

  Why did that make him feel like he was the problem here, instead of a contrary female who couldn't ever seem to do what she was told? Alerik frowned at the lead contender for his replacement as governor of the Grogon Asteroid Belt. Morgon didn't know he was a candidate yet, and Alerik wasn't free to disclose that bit of information. Maegan's uncle might have to revise the timing on his promise.

  Maegan gave Morgon another squeeze and pulled away. Without so much as a glance at Alerik, she headed for the shuttle. Just steps away from it, she whirled and ran back to where Sharm stood.

  "I forgot you were staying behind," she said, and she pulled him into a fierce hug.

  Sharm would ease the transition for the new governor, and rejoin them on Magnilium. Over Maegan's shoulder, his friend and second caught Alerik's gaze as he returned the hug with equal vigor. There was something in his expression, something he didn't bother to hide, that Alerik didn't like at all. He became instantly wary. Sharm had become a Maegan supporter, but was there more to it than that? The mutual hug went on for entirely too long.

  With a growl of warning, he moved to reclaim his mate. He hadn't even completed a step when a bolt of pain drove through his skull. It was so intense, it dropped him to his knees on the hot legite dock. He heard Sharm shout, heard Maegan's cry of alarm.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders. Her face, white and scared, appeared before him as a blur. She turned her head and he heard her cry her uncle's name, but she still clutched his shoulders. That contact became his anchor as he battled the blinding agony.

  The rapid thud of booted feet on the dock competed with the unbearable pounding in his head. He was aware, dimly, of bodies pressing around him, hands pulling him to his feet. Voices urging him to move.

  Through it all, he knew Maegan was holding onto him. He heard Morgon's name called, caught Sharm's raised voice mixed in with others.

  He felt himself being moved out of the hot sun, into a blessedly cool place where the light was less blinding. He felt the pain beginning to dissipate. Gentle hands--Maegan's?--pulled straps across his chest, his waist, and he realized, in a disconnected, dream-like way, that he was in a shuttle seat.

  Maegan was asking questions, demanding answers. Sharm was shouting orders somewhere in the distance. Suddenly all sound cut off. The shuttle doors must have closed.

  "Alerik?"

  He forced his eyes open, easier now, as the pain in his head continued to recede.

  Maegan knelt in front of him. Her green eyes were filled with fear. Her brow was creased with worry. "Is it better?" She touched him gently on his cheek.

  You are never getting away from me, mate.

  He nodded, unable to speak through the brew of emotions welling inside of him. Her heart was in her expression, and though his memory was still imperfect, his own had responded. One day, he would speak to her of that moment.

  "Maegan, you need to strap in." Drakal helped Maegan to her feet and into the seat next to Alerik. And even that brief, helping contact sent a jealous anger rippling through his veins.

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "What happened?"

  "We don't know." The voice was Corenna's. "Drakal and I had just arrived at the dock. Whatever it was, it affected Morgon as well, although not as severely as it did you."

  "Where's Morgon?"

  "Sharm took him to the Pallas Five clinic."

  "No one else felt, saw, heard anything?"

  "No, sir."

  The hum of the shuttle's systems filled the silence that followed. After a nan, Maegan murmured what Alerik had known in his heart to be true, "She is still alive."

  * * * *

  "We have unfinished business, that's why."

  "Like what? What could be so important?" Maegan threw up her hands and scowled at the medtech, who was doing precisely nothing to stop Alerik as he clambered nude from the healing pod.

  "I don't think you want me to answer that in detail before an audience," he said. He seemed unconcerned about his lack of clothing and the fact that the medtech, who was supposed to be a professional, was ogling him like she'd never seen a naked man before.

  Her own body began buzzing with crazy little tingles as the look in his sapphire eyes left no doubt as to the meaning of his words. She almost caved right then and there, but someone had to be responsible for his health.

  "Can't you zap him with something?" she demanded to the woman beside her. "You said another cycle at least."

  "Another cycle would be beneficial," the medtech responded, not bothering to hide her amusement, "but the commander is past the point in his healing where we can require him to stay."

  "Did you hear that?" Alerik's voice was muffled as he bent to open a cabinet, and treated both women to a spectacular view of his muscled bare ass and dangling male parts. "They can't require me to stay, therefore, I'm leaving. Because we have unfinished business." He straightened. "Where in blazing starpits are my clothes?"

  "I'm calling your mother."

  "Someone might want to give me my clothes first. It's been a few years since she's seen me without them."

  The medtech snickered. She crossed the small chamber to open up a panel on the other side of the cabinet. "In here, sir."

  The triumphant gaze Alerik sent in her directi
on contributed to Maegan's growing suspicions. Gone was the cold, unemotional lack of recognition. "Have you remembered stuff?"

  Alerik was pulling on his tunic, which of course he had to select as the first piece of clothing, instead of his breeches.

  "Think so."

  His head emerged from the neck opening. The look in his eyes sent shudders racing through her body. "Which is why we have unfinished business."

  "Stop saying that," she snapped. She tried desperately to build her defenses, and not think about his intent. "How much have you remembered?"

  "Don't know." He yanked on his breeches. "But I'm about to find out."

  She should be happy. She was happy. Gods, this was all so complicated. It had been complicated even before he lost his memory. Part of her wanted to jump on a shuttle and head into the vast unknown, but her traitorous body was screaming for what would happen next.

  He shoved his feet into his half boots. "Thank you for the care, ma'am," he said politely to the medtech. To Maegan, he said a lot less politely, "Let's go."

  He took her arm and hustled her from the healing chamber into the core of the small, quiet medical center. From there, he unerringly picked the set of doors that led into the MagnaStar's main corridor.

  With the main mess hall at one end and communications at the other, there was some traffic in the corridor. Alerik, still gripping her firmly, took several steps toward the mess hall. He paused and looked down at her.

  "Where to?"

  "Where are we going?" It was equivalent to baiting a sanddog, but she couldn't help herself.

  He grunted and backed her up against the wall. "I was hoping that memory of how contrary you can be was fabricated, but evidently not. I can do this just about anywhere, including back in there." He jerked his head at the medical center. "But I'm guessing you'd prefer a little more privacy."

  "If you're just going to yell at me, we can--"

  "Not what I had in mind. You have two nanonans."

  "And then?"

  He sighed. "Then I'm calling my mother. But I really hope you won't make me do that."

  She pretended to consider as anticipation built within her and his eyes turned smoky with warning. "All right. Follow me."

  She led him to the lift tube and keyed in the level to the cabins for the Mariltar party. The first person they saw as they stepped off the tube was Joanna Chase, Alerik's mother. The second was Maegan's, who emerged just then from one of the cabins. Both women were dressed for the evening in knee length tunics and wide-legged, soft trousers.

  "Pormiam's breath," Alerik muttered. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd arranged this. Our cabin had better be on this level."

  Maegan choked back a nervous laugh and drew a deep breath as their mothers approached.

  Gorgeous in emerald green, Joanna smiled with delight as she spotted them. "Feeling better, dear? Have more of your memories returned?"

  "What?" Outraged, Maegan turned to her mate. "How did she know your memories were coming back and I didn't?"

  Alerik gripped her arm a little tighter. "My thanks, mother. You might have kept that to yourself a little longer."

  "It's best not to keep secrets." Joanna was unrepentant. "Will you be joining us for the evening meal with the captain?"

  Melissa, eye-catching in her signature rainbow colors, laughed. "I think you can see the answer to that, Joanna. Stop causing trouble. Come along."

  "Your cabin is very nice, dear--and it's right across from the one your father and I have. Your mate's parents are on the other side."

  "Good grief." Melissa rolled her eyes at Maegan as she tugged Joanna toward the lift tube. "They're not sixteen anymore and they are bonded. This dinner could last a half cycle, children. Enjoy yourselves."

  Mortified, Maegan wondered if the entire vessel knew of Alerik's plans.

  "They're both equally bad," her mate growled, as he propelled her down the corridor. "I don't know why our fathers allow them to associate with each other."

  That did it. Her frayed nerves couldn't take anymore. "Allow them?" Maegan yanked her arm from his grasp and poked him in the chest. "Allow them? Guess what, Neanderthal?" It was an ancient Earth term, and she didn't know where it had come from, but it sounded good. "As old as my father is, there's respect and equality in their partnership. He doesn't blindly subscribe to customs that are as ancient as Sagar himself. My mother has an equal say in her marriage."

  "That's just one of the things we're going to talk about. Eventually." The slap of Alerik's hand against the cabin's access panel was sharp and loud. Nothing happened.

  Someone cleared his throat. "That's mine, son. Yours is across the hall."

  Maegan jerked around. Not again. Their fathers had clearly just come out of the neighboring cabin, which belonged to her parents. Their faces bore expressions of polite interest.

  Her father showed no inclination to intervene as Alerik gave an impatient tug that made her stumble across the corridor. He stood calmly beside the Neanderthal's father and commented, "Old? Do you feel old? I don't feel old."

  "Children do have odd ideas about their parents, don't they?" she heard Alex Mariltar respond, just as his son managed to get the right cabin door open this time.

  He pulled her inside and sealed off the outside world.

  Alerik crossed immediately to the storage cabinets and began rummaging through the clothes inside, muttering under his breath. He emerged holding a pair of her thin leggings. As he scanned the room and twisted the garment in his hands, his intent dawned on her.

  "Oh, no." She made a beeline for the door.

  He was faster. He positioned himself in front of her and bared his teeth. "Oh, yes. After two cycles in a pod, I have to clean up before we do anything else, which means you get tied up. Because if I don't, you'll have jacked a shuttle and be halfway back to Pallas Four by the time I'm done, given your history."

  His temple mark and eyes turned smoky. "On second thought, you can clean up with me."

  "What if I promise not to go anywhere?" It was worth a chance that he'd believe her.

  His grin got wider. No chance. "That's the thing about us Neanderthals. We're not very trusting and we don't know how to compromise."

  "I liked it better when you didn't have a memory," she lied, as he turned her and marched her to the small bathing chamber. "There's no room in there, anyway."

  "Huh." He stood at the entrance, blocking any escape, and began to remove the clothes he had put on just nans ago. "You may be right, but we Neanderthals can get very creative."

  His boots were already off. He unfastened his breeches.

  "Why is it your tunic is the first and last piece of-- Oh, never mind," she said in exasperation. "I'm guessing you don't even know what a Neanderthal is."

  "My mother's from ancient Earth as well," he pointed out. He bared his lower half and revealed a full, hard erection. "Heard the word, looked it up, know what it means." He yanked off his tunic. "Now you're about to find out."

  "Blazing starpits." She rolled her eyes.

  "You get that from your mother, don't you?"

  "Can we stop talking about our parents?" He had backed her against the cleansing stall. She had nowhere to go. All that hard muscle and smooth skin and pure male was a touch away, yet still she denied herself.

  "Now that," he said, and he slapped his hands against the wall on either side of her head, and brought his body up against hers, "is something we can agree on."

  Gods, he felt good and she had too many clothes on. She inhaled the warm, male scent of him and nuzzled her cheek against the smooth skin of his chest.

  He grunted again. His hand captured her chin and nudged it up. His soft lips slid across her forehead, down her nose and found her mouth. And she was lost. Every last shred of resistance was devoured by the onslaught of emotion that slammed into her with just a glimpse of the expression in his sapphire eyes. His mouth held her captive. His body supported hers. He still hadn't touched her with his hands, an
d she craved that as much as she regretted her clothed state.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders, hooked one leg around his thigh and tried to lift herself higher against his body. A growl rumbled from deep inside his chest. He tore his mouth away, grabbed the bottom of her tunic and tried to yank it off over her head. Made to be form-fitting, it wouldn't clear her breasts.

  With another grunt, he abandoned it, leaving the fabric draped over her head. His hands slid down the bare skin of her torso, raising a storm of fiery tingles. His fingers hooked into the waist of her leggings. With two hard jerks, he bared her to her ankles.

  He left her feet still shod in slippers and tangled in leggings and separated her thighs as far as they go. Hard hands grasped her bottom. He lifted and impaled her.

  It was over in nans. He knew just where to touch her. The restriction of her clothing frustrated her and excited her. In the end it didn't matter at all as he pounded into her and wrenched a sudden orgasm from her just as he released as well.

  His breaths heavy and fast in her ear, he let her slide. His flesh pulled out of her body and he leaned into her, pressing her against the wall as her feet touched the floor.

  Her face still obscured by fabric, she murmured an objection. The pressure lifted.

  "Now this is an interesting state of affairs." Although she couldn't see, she could tell he'd gone to his knees. He removed her slippers, and slid her leggings off. His hands worked their way up her legs. They found the sensitive area right behind her knees and his touch drew a whimper from her.

  Once again, he pushed her legs apart. She would have resisted but he used his hands and forearms to widen her stance. She could have pulled the tunic off her face herself at any time, but the deprivation of her sight made what he was doing easier to accept and infinitely more exciting. She kept her hands at his shoulders, clutching tightly.

  His fingers touching her sensitized flesh made her gasp. His thumbs separated the folds and his breath was hot, but his mouth was even hotter as he closed it over the small rise of flesh.

  She was too sensitive. She cried out and tried to move away, but he clamped a hand on her bottom. All she could do was ride the fury of his passion out again.