“What the hell's happening to me?” she asked herself, but, as usual on this ship, rather than be left alone to contemplate what the hell was going on with her system, Eve responded.
“Scanning . . . .”
“No Eve! I don't need a scan. I was just talking to myself, that's all.”
“The scan is running and cannot be aborted.” There was a beep followed by a longer one. “The scan shows that you have had a DNA crosshatch,” Eve declared in her robotic voice.
“A what?” Goldie asked, perturbed. What the hell was a crosshatch?
“A DNA crosshatch.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“Two sets of similar DNA have attacked your own and they are starting to fight your DNA.”
“Is it . . . . Is it something you die from?” Goldie asked, a little frightened.
“No. It is a crosshatch.”
“There's no fucking point in repeatedly telling me that, Eve. For God's sake, I don't understand what the hell it is.”
“I have explained it to you.”
“And lo and behold, I don't understand because I'm not a doctor! Be more specific, go into some detail.”
“Crosshatching can only occur on similar strains of DNA. The Sirius A inhabitants are supercharged humans. Long ago in Earth's ancient history, they discovered a way to manipulate their genes and make themselves into super creatures. In Sirius A's case, into shifters. Their DNA is still human, but, with their altered genes, they are unlike humans. A mate is assigned to every group of Sirian siblings. That mate is genetically compatible with them. You are genetically compatible with them. You are their mate.”
Said in Eve's robotic computerized voice, somehow the shock wasn't as great as it could have been.
“What does that mean?”
“A mate is their only hope for procreation.”
“You mean that I'm the only one that can be the mother of their children?” Goldie asked in blatant disbelief.
“Yes.”
“But why me?”
There was a pause and the beeping sound that was Eve's version of a shrug. “Your DNA is compatible with theirs. They believe that the Gods have sent you, but it is simply a genetic match between you four.”
“Four? You mean I'm all three of their mates?” she shrieked.
“Yes.”
“But that's impossible.”
“No. It's very possible. An Earth set of triplets share the same genetic code, and, just like them, a Sirian set are almost clone like. To be the mate of one of them is to be the mate of all three of them.”
“Is that why I turned into an unofficial slut overnight?”
“This is highly probable. Their pheromones are hardwired into your body. Their scent triggers your arousal.”
That made her feel marginally better, and, at least, when she'd questioned her very sluttish ways, she'd been partially right.
“What happens . . . what happens if I never see them again?” she asked hesitantly, unsure if she even wanted to be with three men on a strange planet even if she was their only hope for a family. No woman wanted to be wanted simply for her womb!
“You will see them again.”
The concrete firmness of Eve's statement grated on Goldie's nerves. “I might not.”
“Your body will crave them, as they will crave yours. Once you've instigated the mating, there is no going back.”
“So I have no choice but to return?”
“Either that or you spend the rest of your life as a nymphomaniac, engaging in random sexual intercourse to quench the need that only they can ease.”
“Wow, what a pretty picture you draw, Eve.”
“I am a computer. I have neither the capabilities of imagination or creativity. I deal with statistics and fact.”
“Great,” Goldie grunted. “At least that explains why I behaved so out of character,” she reasoned.
“Naturally. Your body went into overtime, as did theirs.”
“There's no escaping it?” she asked, seeking confirmation yet again that she'd somehow, and without meaning to, sealed her fate forever.
“No. Only death will separate you.”
“Wonderful!”
“And now, your life has been elevated from human status to that of a Sirian.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if the average human life span is one hundred and sixty years, you will now have an average of four hundred and eighty. A Sirian can live for a thousand years. Your mates' DNA shows them to be just over six hundred. You will die when they die. They are your crutch.”
“You have to be joking? You mean I'll have to be with them until they die? For four hundred years? I don't even know them!”
“Just as their pheromones are hardwired into your body, the need to make you happy is instilled in theirs. Sirian mates are renowned for steadfast loyalty without the debilitating sense of endurance that comes with a prolonged human relationship. Their ability to mate is envied across this part of the galaxy. Very few species have this capability.”
“Right. I've talked about this long enough now. We'll deliver the fucking payload and then return to them. I want some fucking answers.”
Slamming her hands against the control panel, she settled in her seat with a scowl and instigated the process of guiding the shuttle.
* * * *
“You let her go then?”
“Of course, Turin. What did you think I'd do? Tie her to my side? It's her choice. She'll be back though. I sensed the change in her scent already.”
Solden's head spun around from the hearth over which he was preparing that day's food. “You did? That's fantastic.”
“Yes. She hasn't received my seed yet, so the mating isn't complete, but it's enough to have her returning.”
“I hope you're right, Faeron,” Turin said sullenly, his voice and face unnaturally and unusually sober.
“Of course he's right, cockhead. Nature doesn't lie. If her DNA has started to crosshatch with ours, then that's the start of the process. She'll have to come back. Either that or she'll be fucking everyone in sight!”
“Yeah, that's that's what I'm worried about. We've started something that she might not understand, and she might seek solace elsewhere.”
“We'll deal with that if it comes. But I imagine that her computer will pick up on the change of her body's makeup. Her body will be scanned repeatedly to ensure that the levels in the shuttle's cabin are adequate for her body's needs. When it scans her and realizes that she's completely different than how she always has been, then Goldie will be notified, and she'll return.”
“Yeah, hating our guts all along the way!”
“Again, another thing to deal with if and when it happens. Stop being so damn gloomy, Turin. It's not like you.”
“Do you know, she's the first woman to be able to tell me apart from you two?”
Solden chuckled. “Of course she did! She's your mate! She's supposed to be able to tell us apart!”
Faeron shot him a glare but patted Turin on the back. “And that upsets you?”
“No. I just realized what it's like to be mated, that's all. I don't want anything to jeopardize what could be.”
“Well, I didn't necessarily agree that Solden was doing the right thing, but now that he's started the crosshatching, I can't see that anything will jeopardize the future, Turin. It's all for the good.”
“Did she happen to mention how long the payload could take?” Solden asked curiously, butting in to his brothers' conversation.
“No.”
“I can already feel the change in my body, her trip might take too long,” Turin warned.
“Can you, Solden?” Faeron asked, concern evident in his voice.
He shrugged. “A little, but we can manage. Let's just hope there are some juicy Grogdes out there to slaughter. That will ease the bear.”
“If you're both feeling this way, then you're bound to trigger me into behaving the same way.
It might be wise if we spend a lot of time in the woods in our natural forms,” Faeron suggested and looked at Turin's glum yet strained face with a slight frown.
Turin nodded and started the shift.
“Turin! You dumb fuck! Stop it!” Solden shouted, feeling the power in the air.
The air currents settled once more as Turin obeyed Solden's command.
“Outside! Always outside! I'm not running my ass ragged to stop Grogdes from wrecking my home to have my brother do it because he can't control his gods-be-damned urges!”
Turin shot a glare at Solden, got to his feet with a stomp, and inadvertently had his chair toppling backwards with a clamor. He stalked out of the kitchen, and, moments later, the sound of the door being bashed to a close echoed and vibrated through the building.
“Well done, Solden. You really managed to fuck that up!”
“If he's going through it, then I sure as hell am. Don't forget that I got the whole process rolling. We all just have to put up and shut up and hope to fuck that she comes back . . . and soon.”
Solden spun around and faced the fire again. Grabbing the three steaks he'd been preparing, he slammed them on to the three plates he'd set out and took one before leaving the kitchen, abandoning Faeron to his thoughts.
* * * *
“How much fucking longer until we reach Sirius A?” Goldie hollered, letting out an impatient scream.
“I approximate it will take another two hours and six minutes,” Eve replied in her usual flat emotionless voice.
“Fuck!”
Her skin felt as though there were ants crawling all over it, as though they'd managed to crawl under the layers of flesh to her insides. It was like being tortured, only not by some bastard with a whip or knife, but by yourself.
She screamed again and her body heaved upwards of its own accord from the seat upon which she was seated. Clenching her fists, she knew that if she didn't fuck one of them, and soon, she'd go insane. Six days had passed since she'd left and she'd managed to make her payload two lunar days before schedule. Only yesterday she'd received notification from her bank that she'd been paid the bonus, and, while it had made her content, she no longer gave a shit.
When Eve had said that her body would demand she return to the three brothers, it had been the understatement of the millennium because it wasn't making demands, it was clamoring for their possession.
When she'd landed and had delivered her payload, the foreman of the space warehouse had been a fat and ugly pig, but the fact that he was male and had a cock had been like metal to her magnet. Only a stern talking-to had prevented her from sleeping with the creep and then, and only then, had she realized that she would indeed have to return. If she could find a man such as Jeriam Hogues sexually appealing then things were definitely serious and not in a good way!
“Can't we go any faster?” she panted.
“Not without causing substantial damage to the already compromised hull.”
“Will we make it there in one piece if we go faster and further damage the hull?”
“Yes. We just would not be able to take off again without subsequent repairs.”
“I don't care. Just do it.” She jerked back against her seat as she felt the speed of the craft increase dramatically. “Now how long?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Thank God,” she cried. Goldie felt awful for saying it, but she hadn't felt this bad since her father's death.
It was almost as though they'd overdosed her with drugs and she was having withdrawal symptoms. That was the only way she could describe it. And while after her father's death, she had been disconsolate with grief, now she had mood swings. Shifting from anger to fear to fury to hate. Had she not known that relief was in sight, then she didn't know what she would have done. She could only thank God that Eve had taken her question literally and answered her when she had said, 'What the hell is happening to me?'
At least she knew why she was changing. Only being in the dark about something as serious as this could be worse than what she going through at this moment in time.
Closing her eyes, she begged for calm, but that instantly dissipated when only moments later she heard Eve again.
“Ten minutes until arrival. Sirius A is now in sight.”
Goldie jumped up and stared out of the windshield. “Scan for the house and land on their grounds.”
“It is within a wood. We could damage trees.”
“I don't care. I can't walk from where we originally crashed. I need them now.”
“Overwriting flight course,” Eve confirmed.
Goldie immediately felt the turning of the shuttle.
She'd be there soon. She'd fuck their brains out and then, and only then, would she kill each of them for putting her through this.
“Breaching atmosphere now,” Eve announced.
Only then did it manage to penetrate her mind. Days ago, she'd handed all steering control over to Eve, as she had known full well that controlling the ship was well out of her grasp.
Goldie watched with blurred eyes as they passed through the atmosphere with no difficulty and hurtled down towards the planet's surface, only managing to decelerate when they reached fifty thousand feet and they leveled out.
The shuttle began to shudder and make its damage known to its sole occupant, but she didn't care. Her eyes saw that they were over the wood and directly above the clearing. Slowly, they lowered and landed adjacent to the house.
“How much damage?” she gasped.
“To the environment, minimal. The ship's hull has been breached. Extensive repairs will be necessary, as I estimated earlier.”
Nodding, Goldie otherwise dismissed the computer's words. “Open the doors.”
With a whoosh of air, the doors opened and instantly a sweeping gust of wind entered the bridge. Shaking, Goldie jumped to her feet and ran out of the ship, jumping on to the ground. The soft dark grass enveloped her spacesuit clad feet, and she rushed from her shuttle towards their door, which, within a foot of her arrival, swept open. Only realizing that it was not one of the three brothers, and in the nick of time, stopped her from pouncing on to the person at the door. A desire to fuck was quickly replaced by a desire to kill.
“Who the fuck are you?” she spat and felt her face grow taut as anger shot through her blood.
“Luria. Who in the names of all the gods are you?” the woman replied haughtily.
She jerked her chin towards the house. “I'm their mate, that's who.”
“Well,” the woman, a curvy redhead, hissed, “we'll have to wait for the brothers return, because I'm not leaving until then and only then.”
“I'd reconsider that if I were you, bitch,” Goldie retorted and felt something strange happen to her hands. She looked down and noticed that the nails on her hands had almost torn and through the center of them were thicker and coarser stubs that, while rugged, looked damn sharp.
“But that's not possible!” Luria said with a frown and lifted her nose into the air and pulled in a deep breath. “You're human.”
“I was until those three changed all that!”
Hearing a noise coming from the woods, Goldie looked around the woods and instinctively knew both who was coming and from which direction. She watched as three huge bears stomped slowly through the trees and into the clearing. Their brown fur glistened wetly, as though they had been splashing around in water, and they had clusters of fish in their grasp. Dumbly, the three looked from Luria to Goldie, and then Faeron shifted.
Goldie closed her eyes as she witnessed the agony of the shift. The noises, the sights, the smells were repugnant to her, but she opened them when they had ceased, Faeron stood before her butt naked.
“Goldie!”
“Faeron,” she nodded and jerked her head at Luria. “Who is this?” she demanded angrily, her wrath overriding her lust for the first time in a week.
He looked from Goldie to the red head and then back again. “One of our sexual partners.�
��
The words had her stomach feeling as though it were being ripped out. Panting, she fell forwards so that her face was being pressed against her knees until they gave out and she collapsed to the ground. Suddenly, one of the men was at her back, she felt his touch against her spine. It soothed her some, but that ripping agony continued to spread through her with the ease of metal through skin.
It was Solden against whom she was leaning, she realized when he spoke.
“She was one of our partners. Hush, hush, Goldie. She's not anymore. I promise.”
She found herself being curled into his embrace and rocked against his chest as they sat on the ground.
“I can scent her,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please. Make her go away.”
“Luria. Go!” Solden yelled and nodded fiercely at Turin who caught his meaning and grabbed the red head and marched her from the clearing and into the woods. Her angry words could be heard as they entered the dense thickets of trees.
“It hurts, Solden. It hurts,” Goldie said in a pitiful voice.
“Babia, I know. It will only ease when Faeron gives you his seed.”
With wet eyes, she looked up at Solden trustingly and then grabbed her stomach as pain tore through her yet again. “You promise it will go away?” She cried out as a particularly nasty gripping sensation had her back arching with agony.
The Forgotten Realms: Primal Instincts Page 6