The alarm rang thrice.
Goodbye, Jovull. She snapped the locket shut and lowered her head following Nulvitian tradition.
Her heart raced.
Never to live, love, and laugh again.
Hot tears stung her eyes.
Silence dragged on forever until the alarm rang again.
The stars beckoned him home. She lifted her gaze back to the heavens.
A cloud of ash jettisoned into space past her portal.
Outside The Seeker’s hull. How fitting those who seek shall unlock the greatest mystery of all. Who knew what waited beyond the realm of the living?
Or was Voldon right?
Was this nothing more than Jovull’s end?
Her heart sank.
Warm tears smeared her view of the great beyond. She stuffed the locket back into her pocket.
Ashes to ashes. From dusk to dust. Never more to live, love, or laugh. I will remember you more than the murdered children, my friend.
* * * *
Jake could have pissed a trail before the window in his quarters where he paced, trying to work out a plan. His bladder was screaming. But caged dogs wouldn’t defile their quarters by pissing anywhere. Unfortunately, his bladder was on the verge of mutiny.
Where was his warden?
The damned door wouldn’t open.
His happy-place private room had turned into a cell when Red Kindrist disappeared all of twelve hours ago. Right after taking her sex stud out for a run around the corral.
How could any captive sleep? The ship seemed to be moving. Or points of light in space moved. Like he knew what was going on. The last frigging time he even thought about astronomy was when he was a kid. Talk about being in deep crap. Especially since his ramrod-straight cock he’d jammed inside his pants hadn’t given up the ghost.
And now he needed to piss.
Where’s the fricking john? Some draft into the ultimate foreign legion. So what was up with the female warden? She dragged him aboard this ship. For what? Sex and blood? A part of him was willing. With or without consent. But why give her what she wanted? Why succumb to the level of a blood fucker and lose all one had of his dignity? Just what is in this for me?
His gut snarled.
Food. These people obviously starved their prisoners into cooperation.
Just get out. Get home. He turned to the cold glass portal.
Nothing but black space and points of light out there. Home was gone.
Talk about screwed. Literally and physically. How could a man who knew nothing about flying anything more than a kite find his way back to earth now? Insane Darla might possibly pull off levitating an aircraft. She’d certainly want to leave. Well, if that freak could escape, she would have by now. Not an option. He sank his butt onto the hard bench.
His muscles twitched.
Sitting still was becoming impossible. He rose to his feet and continued pacing.
Would he be weak for complying with their demands? And just what did those demands entail? He needed a weapon. A tool. A pencil. Nothing but air rested on the tabletop and benches. One blanket and a small pillow rested atop the bed.
The door whisked open.
Red sauntered into the room with jet-black hair.
Good to see some folks on this cruise ship to the war zone were having a great day.
She glanced his direction and walked to the bed.
Pictures of her with her legs spread flashed in his mind. The memory of her wet heat....
His body ached to mount her.
And to take those muscled legs and wrap them around his waist. God, to end the madness of his screaming body.
She stretched out on her side upon his bed with her shoulder and the swell of her hip thrust toward the barren ceiling.
Taking a rest? Was she just going to lie there? Present herself to him? No. She wasn’t asking. And Jake Straightarrow was no rapist. Even if he couldn’t control himself these days.
“Sleep while you can, Straightarrow. The ship will reach the wormhole relay in four earth days. We can’t afford to lose any sleep.”
Orders? Like a new recruit would follow after being drafted. Was she asking him to crawl into bed with her? He turned to the window and watched the stars scroll by.
So they headed somewhere. “Where are we going?”
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
Not after he waited forever to speak to someone. He pivoted and faced her tight leather-cloaked shoulders. “No. Tell me now.”
Pain knifed his bladder.
He shifted his footing, hoping the change of position would ease up on his latest problem.
She sighed, shoving off the bed, swinging one boot to the floor, and met his gaze with a look of disappointment. “We’re heading to Gameddaron. We’ve got to take out Voldon’s neural network. I can’t do it. They can detect me. That’s why we recruited you. You can fly in under their radar.”
She seemed tired, drained. Maybe she just said anything to get some sleep. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” And did truth really matter now?
She rubbed her shoulder and wagged her head. “You’re the intuitive one. I assumed you’d feel it.” She twisted back into her sleeping position. “Get some sleep, Straightarrow.”
How could anyone sleep with a boner? Was there a shower in this cell? Not to mention a guy could piss in the shower.
His gut snarled again.
How about bread and water? “I’m hungry.”
She didn’t move. “It’s on the way.”
Well good to see she decided to take care of her sex slave. “Where’s the latrine in this joint?”
She shoved up, almost dejected in her apparent exhaustion, and climbed from the bed. “Forgive me, Straightarrow. It’s been an accursed day.” She walked to a point near the entrance, pushed what had to be a button, and a door opened across the room.
Better take a whiz before she closed the door. He strode to the entrance to find a small metallic sink protruding from a wall inside the tiniest closet.
Forget dreams of a cold shower. “Where’s the toilet?”
The round of her breast brushed against his arm.
Damn, these pants were growing tighter every second. Cold water would fix the problem. “Does this prisoner get to shower?”
She reached for a button he could actually see. “You’re not a prisoner, Straightarrow. You’re one of the most honored members of this crew now.” She rolled her gaze to his where her eyes were inches from his chin. “Earthlings have more status than the average mercenary.”
Really? “Then, I’d like this ship to return me to earth.”
She pointed toward another basin anchored to the wall. “There’s the toilet. Press the button to eject whatever you void.” She pointed at another button. “Here’s your shower.”
“Nice game. Just screw me, tell me I’m God, and ignore me.”
She raked her long fingers through her thick hair. “I realize my needs aren’t as demanding as yours right now. But I’m really tired.” The heat of her body pulled away.
With one step, she disappeared back into the room.
Talk about the runaround. He relieved his bladder of which did nothing for his current involuntarily invigorated state, crammed his hard-on back inside his pants, and found a cart at the chamber’s open door.
Red Kindrist took the handle from a white-robed blond male and rolled the squeaking wheels toward the table.
“Please sit, Straightarrow.”
How courteous. Sitting was rough, but he descended.
His wicked pants twisted his sensitive peon.
Talk about the perfect setup for her. She fucks the man of her choice, tucks him into an inescapable spaceship, and gets a permanent over-sexed consort for her roommate. Why do I suddenly want to be the girl? Oh, that’s right. She’s in charge.
She slid a covered metal plate across the table toward him. “These are carrots, green beans, and pot roast. Foods borrowed initially
from the first missions to earth two thousand years ago. Many people find them satisfying. I hope you will find the choice of meals pleasing.”
What, twigs and scraps of hide?
She lifted the cover to reveal a meal that looked like it came from some small down-home-cooking restaurant. In a snap, she produced one set of two-prong forks, plopping one down by his dish, and filled two long-stemmed glasses with some clear turquoise liquid.
Could she be trusted? Was the food drugged? Probably laced with more peon stimulant.
She studied her own identical meal. “I apologize for this being our first meal together. I would have preferred to do something more exotic and celebratory. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans today.” She stabbed a carrot with one prong on her fork and popped it into her mouth.
Full lips. Chewing, sexy lips. God he was screwed. Then, his boss looked tired. Weak. And now she apologized? “So you’re sorry?”
She shook her head and lifted her gaze to his. “We’re married by earth standards. Mated. I should be helping you. Today just hasn’t gone well.”
Jesus. I’m married to an alien and drafted as her big sex stud, but she’s had the bad day. “Why does amen come to mind?”
One of her curved black eyebrows arched.
Guilty by association? “No. That statement had nothing to do with Darla.”
She shoved a hunk of dripping beef into her mouth and stared out the portal.
What a display of double standards. “Why don’t you like Darla? She’s just defending her beliefs. Isn’t that what free thinkers are into? Freedom of thinking? Or is that term an honorary oxy-moron?”
She waved her fork like a dismissive finger. “My friend died today so that you can think what you will. So, I encourage you to think like there’s no tomorrow. Whatever that tomorrow may entail.”
So, a wise sex slave was supposed to put out and shut up? Or destroy some neural network. “Oh, things are getting much clearer now. I’m to replace your buddy on the battlefield, right?”
“If you so choose. Nobody will make you. I selected you because you’re honorable, Straightarrow. As your name implies, you shoot straight and true. We can’t afford to make mistakes in this game. People die when we make mistakes.” Her defiant stare wouldn’t allow him to turn away.
In other words, I’ll make her look bad if she doesn’t convince me to fight her battles. “That’s your argument? I wake up with a chronic boner and hear I’m supposed to drink your blood to remedy whatever the problem encompasses? Am I supposed to buy your story when you’re expecting me to passively accept becoming your sex slave?” Using the term blood fucker probably would have made a better point.
She shoved up from the table and stepped away, staring at the black expanse of space beyond their portal. “I can see you’re coming around.”
Like he was an ox one could yoke. What about all the coincidences any stooge would question? “I don’t get it, Red. You eat earth food and speak English. There are too many coincidences here. Why don’t you cough up the rest of the story? Convince me all is as you claim.”
Her long hair stilled. She paused.
The sensual mass didn’t change color though. If her day were bad enough to warrant mental fatigue, perhaps she could be trusted with spilling the beans out of desperation to crawl back into bed to catch a few winks.
She silently returned to her seat, not looking at him. “When a mercenary joins The Cause, he chooses the planet from which he will select a mate. That planet then becomes his focus. My English teacher was one of my best teachers before he died honorably. That’s killed in action to earth folk. I have no need of learning a language other than that of my people because I can communicate telepathically with psychic beings of a higher-evolutionary state, including those of Voldon’s forces. That’s what this war is about. Voldon insists on tapping into thoughts of free thinkers. He’s beyond narcissistic. He enslaves humanoids of lesser psychic evolutionary status hoping to create hybrids he can control. Earthlings are one of those peoples. So, I chose earth as my glory planet and specialized in earth studies to select a mate.” She plucked another morsel of shiny carrot from the plate and shoved it between her lips.
Okay, now she was talking.
“Can you help me turn Darla around?” she asked.
For real? “I barely know you. But I guess I know you more than her. Why should I help you?”
“To help her. She’s confused. Lost.”
The last point somehow resounded with sympathy. Yeah. Right. He tried not to chuckle. “For The Cause, right? Does everyone get shanghaied into this position of respect I’ve been honored with?”
Her brow twisted. “You’re the only earthling seduced in two centuries. It’s a risky form of induction since earth’s focus on individualism—”
Something would give soon. The truth would surface. “Like I’m supposed to believe that. Especially in Darla’s case. What’s up with her? She says she’s still un-mated to Goro.”
“Most have time to fall in love with their mates. There’s always time. But Darla was in a situation requiring assistance. Goro pulled her aboard the ship to save her. And with you, I spent over two years observing human males. No matter which other Violet Children the operators sent me to study, I was always drawn back to you.”
A guy can’t knock an alien for having good taste. “So you just decided to induct me into The Cause?”
“The day approaches when legend claims your people will evolve at a faster rate. More and more earth children were born Violet Children over the past ten years. It’s a mental phase shift, so to speak. And if they can be persuaded to believe in Voldon’s story.... We have to bring down Voldon’s neural network before the uninitiated learn of the battle and hear his lies. Before it’s too late.”
Alas, the truth. Earthlings weren’t intelligent enough to defend themselves. Or were they? These people might very well be the bad guys. Just what did they hide from earth? Better to play this hand of poker to discover what lay ahead.
* * * *
Kindrist watched Straightarrow chew a mouthful of green beans. He’d immediately grown quiet with the point about his people’s imminent planetary evolution. If only she could probe his less-evolved mind. Know what darted around in his thoughts.
“So what is it that we earthlings won’t understand about this Voldon?” He anchored an inquisitive stare on her.
Without blood from their union, he had to be edgy. Lustful. How could he just sit there so calmly? But he’d heard enough for one day. Enough to rationalize. All he needed now was a few drops of her blood. “There are other things that are more helpful for you to know at the moment. Things that will help you understand about survival. Why don’t I tell you about our marriage?”
His eyebrows arched for a moment. “Sure. Why not?” He smiled.
Such a strange display of curious behavior had to show he began to realize she spoke truth. “I can end the desire that haunts mates. I can show you how the bonding is more like treating diabetes than attacking prey.”
He looked back at his food, shoving a piece of brown beef through gravy. “Prey? I’m prey? Or are you?”
The term was a foolish choice on her part. She really needed to be more cautious in explaining his new situation. “Not literally. Figuratively, as you earthlings love to say. The blood exchange can be simple, not aggressive, purely clinical.”
He held his fork with the tongs parallel to his meat. “You mean I can cut this meat like so.” He cut the lump in half. “Or,” he grabbed one dripping hunk of meat with the fingers of his other hand and crammed it between his teeth, “I can bite it in half?”
The implication rang quite clear in his barbaric display. Darla planted these ideas about mating in his mind. “Our sexual union is much deeper than that.” Now to prove his assessment wrong. She shoved one sleeve a few inches up her arm, grabbed the hilt of her knife tucked into her boot, rose, stood over her glass of Nulvitian marriage wine, and thrust th
e stinging blade into her arm in a place that was less likely to bleed profusely.
Forget the searing pain. The man just needed a bit of what his body craved. Medicine.
He studied her blood-letting display.
Dark blood ran along the blade. She pulled the edge from her skin and stirred the wine with the sharp tip until the blood mixed with the alcohol.
A Beast Tamer, a drink that even the wildest mate would guzzle wholeheartedly. She slid the glass to him.
Would he refuse?
Could he refuse? The smell of her blood had to unsettle him. Another twenty-four hours and he’d chase her down to bite her with his fangs.
He stared at the sacred liquid. “So, I’m supposed to suck it down?”
“You speak with great ease. Don’t you yearn for the offering? My blood is the only blood that will satiate you. It will settle your hormones allowing you to think more clearly.”
“You mean lose the boner?” He chuckled and matched her stare. “Blood plus fucker. What a lovely term.”
Curse Darla. Words were wasted on this inductee tonight. Let his blood boil tomorrow. He’d bed her for relief before taking what she willingly gave in his wine. She turned to the bed.
Chapter Six
Jake’s mouth watered where he sat across the table from the bloodied mixture. The succulent smell of blood wasn’t what he remembered from a lifetime of fistfights and accidents back on earth. Now the metallic tang rooted in his nostrils with a sweetness that begged he chug-a-lug.
His mouth watered again.
Drink it and cave. To give in meant he relinquished the last vestige of choice he clutched.
But the scent called to him.
Nausea roiled in his gut.
Was that an intuitive sign to abstain?
She settled into her chair, shoving the blade back in its boot.
Funny thing about the glass’s contents. His captor blurred into the background behind the drink. Faded into a smear beyond the magic concoction.
“Take it, Straightarrow. My gift of peace to you, my husband.”
Husband? He shook his head and forced his gaze back to meet hers above the sparkling glass. Whatever she was up to with this ridiculous baited trap would not get him humping in the sack.
Skhye Moncrief - [Feral 01] Page 5