Into the Stars

by Gwendolyn Field

  At the end of the hall, Captain Lairde turns and her eyes narrow on the entourage around me. Some of the men step away as if trying not to be as obvious, but Lexon remains close enough that I feel the heat coming off his arm.

  “Thank you for the tour and introductions,” he tells her. “Perhaps our crews can spar together after dinner.”

  “Yes,” she says. “And your chef can make herself useful in the kitchen.”

  Ouch. Rude. She says it like I’m not standing right there.

  “Her name is Reesa,” Lexon reminds her before turning his attention to me. “Do you remember how to get to the kitchen from here?”

  “Yes,” I assure him. “I’ll be fine.” I turn from them, glad to be out of her presence, and each of my men regard me warmly as I go.

  The kitchen and housekeeping staff are kind enough, though, like Captain Lairde, they eye my clothing strangely. Each of them wears white uniforms. They show me how to work all of the machines. When dinner is finished and we’re left to our own devices, I wander aimlessly until I come to their huge sparring room. The door is open so I lean against the doorway with my arms crossed and watch Tripoli pin one of the other men to the mat.

  “The Hornets are extremely skilled. Their expertise will be good for my men.”

  I nearly jump from my skin at the sound of Captain Lairde’s voice from out of nowhere. She leans against the other side of the door and watches the men, never taking her eyes from them as she speaks to me.

  “I toured your ship,” she says. “Your accommodations are quite opulent…for a chef.” Every word is punctuated with meaning, and I bristle.

  “I agree,” I say. “I was surprised when I saw it for the first time.”

  She sniffs. “I suppose they believe a Mars woman has to keep certain standards.”

  The bristling sensation will not subside. “Ironic since no household on Mars has such riches. Only the Emporer’s palace. I’d never seen furniture of real wood until I agreed to this mission.”

  She peers at me now. “And how exactly were you chosen?”

  “My boss recommended me.”

  Her shrewd eyes eat me up. “Strange that they chose one military chef and one civilian.”

  I give a small shrug. Of course she knows what happened with the traitor.

  “And you had no idea the other chef was a turncoat?”

  “Of course not!” I assume turncoat means spy or something similar.

  Captain Lairde smiles at seeing me riled up, and I quickly calm myself, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “I was given the lie detector test like everyone else.”

  “Hm.” She says nothing else. We watch the men in silence. It takes at least five full minutes for my heart to settle, though I’m still seething. Mars humana do not treat one another this way—with suspicion and jealousy.

  When the men finish, I move to the side as they come out, wiping sweat. I ignore the way the other shipmen continue to leer at me in disturbing ways.

  “Back to our ship,” Lexon murmurs to me as he passes. I follow them, but Captain Lairde’s hand reaches out and snags my elbow, her nails digging into my flesh.

  “If you dressed properly, they wouldn’t be as likely to stare.”

  “I don’t suppose you could lend me some proper, unattractive clothes?” I ask sweetly. “I’d hate for them to have to bother themselves with self control.”

  She flings my arm away and glares. I don’t wait for her to respond before I’m moving forward again, gritting my teeth against a wash of ugly anger.

  The moment we get back onto our ship and the door closes, I yell, “What in the galaxy is wrong with that woman?”

  Every man stops and looks at me. Then they peer around at each other like they’re wondering what to say.

  Lexon clears his throat. “You need to let anything she says roll off your back.”

  “Nobody’s back is that smooth!” I tell him. “Every single word out of her mouth is insulting!”

  The captain’s jaw sets with displeasure.

  “May I, Captain?” Rawko asks.

  “This should be good,” Lexon mutters. He waves a hand, telling Rawk to go ahead.

  “I love Earth women as much as the next man, but sometimes they are straight up bitches,” Rawk explains. “And Captain Lairde in particular is not very nice to her fellow gender. She’s what we like to call Dagger Tongue.” Lexon squeezes the skin between his eyes as Rawko goes on. “And she’s wanted to fuck Cap since forever.”

  My stomach sinks to the ground and Captain Lexon growls. “Too far.”

  Rawko holds up his palms. “Sorry, sir.”

  The other guys drop their gazes, clearly trying not to laugh or smile.

  Captain Lexon pins me with his eyes. “In four days she and the rest of us will be disembarking on this vessel for Clyvorn. Their staff will remain on their ship in the nearby atmosphere, awaiting the end of the battle, and you will be sent on a self-propelling pod back to the Milky Way where you’ll be met by another ship that will take you to Mars.”

  I shake my head fervently, panic flaring. “I’m not leaving you guys!”

  “Reesa, this is not up for discussion.”

  “You’re right, sir, it’s not.” My hands are in hard little fists as I move closer. “If you want a fight, try prying me from this ship and putting me on that pod. Just try!” His mouth purses into a tight pucker at the dare, and I turn on my heels, speed walking to my bedroom before I scream.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I don’t cry that night, thank the stars. I’m so sick of tears, and I’m thankful for the hard shell that’s beginning to form around my mind and heart. Nobody’s words should be able to hurt me like that. I can’t let myself care what that woman thinks of me. And on a more morbid level, my mind starts to prepare for possible outcomes of this war…losing more of the men I’ve come to care for. It’s easy to pretend Milaz is still somewhere on the ship, shaving his head and giving sage advice to the younger Hornets. I can’t control what happens to these heroes, but they’ll always be with me, as alive in my mind as the day I met them.

  I run through each of their faces. Their grins and smirks. The sound of each one’s laughter. I save Captain Lexon’s for last. His dark chuckle rings through my mind, rumbling deep in my heart and I realize I’ve never heard him outright laugh. I would like to. And I can’t for the life of me bring myself to imagine him dead.

  Not the Captain. Please, I beg the universe.

  My legs thrash in the sheets and I throw them off, breathing too hard. I can’t be alone. Like last night, I climb from my bed and pad to the captain’s room. He doesn’t startle this time when the door opens. He silently lifts the covers for me to climb under. I snuggle down, feeling hyper aware of him, but already calmer than I was in my own room.

  Lexon doesn’t question my need to be with him. He says nothing, but scoots closer, his heat enveloping my back without touching me. And then I make the mistake of wondering if he’s naked again. How am I supposed to sleep with that thought in my head?

  I’m surprised when I hear his low voice whisper.

  “Don’t fight me about the pod, Reesa. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I don’t want to fight you,” I whisper back as my heart gives a squeeze. “But it’s a chance I’m willing to take. I’m not going back to the Milky Way without you.”

  “Why?” he rumbles. “Just to prove you’re more stubborn than me?”

  I roll to face him. “I’m not playing some sort of game. I—” I what? Why can’t I put this massive thing into words? “I’m afraid I’ll never see you again.”

  “Why would you want to see me again?”

  “Because we’re…” Not friends. Not lovers. Not a Nevesta/Vesto. Not even really coworkers.

  “We’re what, Reesa?”

  Frustration rises like a tsunami, taking over. “I don’t know!”

  He pushes. “What do you want us to be?”

  “Something.�
� I swallow hard. It’s the worst answer in the history of the planets. I roll away from him, tense, trying to fight down the feelings overwhelming me.

  He says nothing to provoke me further, but his giant man hands touch my hair, smoothing strands back away from my face. Despite my inner turmoil, I relax into the small touches. After a few minutes both of our breathing evens out. It’s been a long day.

  The captain is already gone when I wake. I have no idea how a man that large moves so stealthily. Or how his very presence can lull me to sleep like a drowsy lullaby. But I wake fully rested and ready to make the men breakfast. The deal is that we’ll have breakfast on our ship, then lunch and dinner on the larger vessel.

  I work hard to avoid Captain Lairde, though I do spy her sparring with Tiko that afternoon and am envious of her balance, agility, quickness, and skill with a knife. She’s fearless. Of course she is.

  Avoid, avoid, avoid. I make myself useful as much as possible and head back to my room during the off hours. Except at night. My nights are spent in Captain Lexon’s room. I marvel at how I can feel so close to a man, so sensual in his presence, without ever touching him in a sexual way. I sense his care and concern as they roll heavily off him, engulfing me. We talk more of our childhoods, interested in the contrast of our societies and how they affected our dreams and aspirations.

  The night before they’re expected to fly down to Clyvorn, I can’t relax. I know I should let him rest, but my nerves seem connected to my mouth.

  “Your real name is Russ?”

  “Russell Lexon,” he murmurs. “I grew up being called Russ, all the way up through basic training until I started gaining rank. My dad was always Lex to his friends. Some of his buddies called me Little Lex.” I can hear the sound of his grin in the dark.

  “I like Lex for you too.”

  “You can call me whatever you want, Reesa.”

  What I want to call him is mine.

  The thought sends a nearly violent shiver through me and I rub the hairs down on my arms. I’ve never thought of a man as mine. Just mine. It makes my heart accelerate. Am I capable of that? It’s clearly what Lexon wants, but…with me? It seems far-fetched, like I’m trying to insert myself into one of the Earth books. It scares me to think about slipping into that mold and not fitting, making a fool of myself, and worse—hurting him. But the thought of him being with any other woman after this is over makes me nearly panic.

  “What will you do when this is over and you’re out of the military?” I ask.

  He lets out a soft, long breath. “Two years ago I bought land in the state of South Carolina. Eight acres with a stream running through it. I’ll build a house there. Watch the wildlife. Sit outside and barbeque. Watch the lightening bugs come out at dusk. Go fishing.”

  “Lightening bugs? Do they bite?”

  He chuckles. “No. They just fly around and their asses light up.”

  “What? Why?”

  “To get laid, I guess.”

  I laugh, because he’s surely joking. And then we’re quiet again.

  “Will you live there alone?”

  “Hopefully not.”

  I chew my lip, my pulse thumping. “Is there a woman on Earth you want to live there with you?”

  He’s quiet long enough to send a buzz of nervousness through me. Finally, in an impossibly soft, low tone, he says, “No, Reesa. You’re the only woman in my life.”

  Oh, stars and all that’s holy. I can’t breathe. He doesn’t mean it like that. He can’t. Nothing has happened between us. He just means I’m literally the only woman in his vicinity. Right? I don’t know what to say, and I’m silent too long.

  “Let’s get some rest,” he tells me. What he doesn’t say is something cliché like, “Big day tomorrow.” Or, “In the morning, we face death.”

  He rolls to his side, placing his broad back to me, and I’m seized with vexation at myself. Why didn’t I respond? Why can I never find the words? So I speak to him the only way I know how. I move to his back and press myself against him, breathing into the dip between his shoulder blades. I want to beg him not to go to Clyvorn tomorrow, demand that he turn this ship and flee from danger, but knowing he’d never cower, never run from responsibility makes me immeasurably proud. Do I have a right to be proud of this man? Maybe it’s crazy, but I feel like I do. When my hand touches his waist, he takes it in his and pulls it around, holding it in front of his torso.

  We hold each other tight and don’t let go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I’m clammy with nerves the next morning. The men are busy preparing, so I rush to my room to shower and dress. When I come out, not having bothered to dry my wavy hair, the men are in the sparring room, strapping into their uniforms and tactical gear. Nothing I say to myself will stop my heart from racing like a gazelle on those nature films running from a lion. I’m so scared for them. It’s taking all my strength to remain standing with a stoic expression.

  Deadly guns are strapped to their backs, handguns at their waists. Glimmering knives diagonal across their chests. They’re really going into war, and there is nothing I can do to stop them or keep them safe.

  Rawko is the first to approach me. He pats his cheek. “Good luck kiss?”

  I rise up on my toes and place a soft kiss to his freshly-shaven skin. Then I hug him around the waist, pressing my face against a dagger handle. He holds me back, rocking from side to side. I take several deep, ragged breaths, swallowing down tears.

  “I’ll see you soon, babe,” he promises. “Count on that.”

  Each man comes to me, letting me hug them tightly, making my heart nearly explode from my chest. And even in the horror of our situation, they manage to make me laugh and shake my head at their silly cockiness. The last man standing there is Lexon. He regards me for several long seconds.

  “Come with me.” His voice is just soft enough to make me obey. We board the neighboring ship, side by side, and he takes me down a set of metal stairs, through a massive, heavy metal door. The ceilings are lower and the florescent lights are fewer. Nervous realization hits me as we near the end of the hall, and I stop in my tracks. He hits a lever to open the final door.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He has to slouch a little so as not to hit his head. His jaw locks, and he sighs. “To show you your accommodations. I had someone move all your things yesterday.”

  Frowning, I step past him and peer into the doorway at a space larger than my room, yet not a room at all. It’s got a small command center and console below a window overlooking the black sky and bright stars. Clyvorn is a blue, green, and yellow mass below us. I cross my arms as my heart rate shoots through the roof, causing a whoosh inside my ears.

  “That is a pod,” I state. “Not a room. I want a room.”

  “Don’t do this,” he warns. “You will not win.”

  I turn and sprint, but I only make it six steps before his huge arm is around my waist. With barely a grunt he tosses me over his shoulder, completely unfazed by my kicking, punching and screaming.

  “Put me down! I’m not leaving, you bastard! I’m not going!”

  Tears of rage stream down my face as he unceremoniously plops me onto the small bed against the wall. I surge forward and beat his chest with my fists, but he merely grabs my wrists and stares down into my face.

  “Stop it, Reesa.”

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  “If you die, you’ll be leaving me. Don’t you see that?”

  I let out a choked sound and struggle against his hold. “Let me go.” I still, attempting to catch my breath, and he must think I’m calm enough to drop my wrists. I leap past him, headed for the door, and he grabs my waist again, ramming me against the wall.

  “Damn it, woman!”

  Completely crazed, I reach up to smack him and he grabs my hand, pinning it over my head. I try the other hand, but he intercepts and pins it too. I bang a knee into his thigh and he shoves his hips hard against mine, pressing me com
pletely to the wall.

  His furious face is one inch from mine. “You’re going to Mars.”

  “I hate you!”

  “I will strap you into that fucking chair if I have to!”

  “I’m never going back to Mars!” My tears have dried and rage is all that’s left. Our chests heave in perfect unison.

  “God damn it! What do I have to do to make you obey? You have no choice in this matter!”

  My eyes lock with his. “Fuck me.”

  His nostrils flare and his pupils widen. His entire body tenses and it seems as if he holds his breath, warring with himself.

  In half a second, he spins me, pressing my face and chest against the wall, and I feel pressure against my waistline, then the loud rip of my linen pants being torn down the back. I gasp at the power it had to have taken to literally tear my pants off. And then a terrifying thrill shoots across my exposed skin.

  He’s really going to do it.

  The captain is strong and quick. With one giant palm holding my back to keep me against the wall, his other hand shoves my pants to mid-thigh, and snaps my thong clean off. I scream, because fucking ouch. That’s going to leave a mark.

  And then, great galaxy, I feel his thick head against my wetness, and arch back to take him as he shoves into me with a savage roar. All I can do is put my palms against the wall to keep myself upright as he slams into me, stretching me and filling me, making me scream at the feel of him deep—so deep.

  He says nothing. Just fucks me like I asked him to. He fucks and fucks and fucks me from behind until my legs are going to give out, and he never says a word. Every stroke, every touch, is punishing.

  “Lexon,” I cry, realizing what I’ve done. “Stop.”

  He pulls out and I turn, my legs shaking. He’s holding his cock in his hand, his face flushed, staring down at me with absolute…wrath.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my hands going to his chest, covering his sheathed daggers. “I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you say. I’m sorry.”