Alien Romance Box Set: Alien Heart Complete Series (Books 1-4): A SciFi (Science Fiction) Alien Warrior Abduction Invasion Romance Box Set

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Alien Romance Box Set: Alien Heart Complete Series (Books 1-4): A SciFi (Science Fiction) Alien Warrior Abduction Invasion Romance Box Set Page 37

by Patricia Moore


  Ryker isn’t saying anything. I look up to his eyes, but even as returns my gaze, he holds his silence. Even with the truth as clear as the nose that’s not on his face, I can’t help but feel affection for him. Whether it was all just a fantasy or not, a person doesn’t just experience that level of intimacy, of incredible pleasure without some attachment.

  “I wish to speak to him,” I tell Olive.

  “He knows your thoughts as we do,” she says.

  “That’s not going to do it,” I tell her. “Maybe you consider it barbaric, but I still prefer having my conversations spoken and private. I know you can read my thoughts. Tell me, do you see any way I can come to a decision without being given a chance to at least speak with Ryker alone for a minute?”

  “He would not be your mate,” Olive responds, but she can hear my response just as easily as I can think it. “You will have time, but you must then make your choice.”

  “Thank you,” I answer, and the Elders slowly file out of the room.

  “Sit,” Ryker says, addressing me directly.

  I look around. The floor is bare.

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Just sit,” he answers. To demonstrate, he begins lowering himself as if he were sitting down, and his body stops at the level of his knees as he sits on nothing. “You were curious about Arcturian furniture,” he says. “I told you it’s the same, only slightly different.”

  I bend a little, reaching behind me for the seat, but I don’t find one.

  “If you prefer,” he says, “you can stand.”

  “No need to get snarky about it,” I tell him. “This is all new to me.”

  “Snarky?” he asks. “This word is unfamiliar to me.”

  “It means the same thing as bratty or bitchy,” I tell him. “Don’t you guys get the internet up here?”

  “You’re speaking to me strangely,” Ryker says.

  I finally give up trying to find the seat and just sit. Just at the moment I feel I’m about to lose my balance and fall backward, my legs only stop bending. I feel nothing beneath me, but as I lift both feet, I remain in a seated position.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “The invisible chairs that show up whenever you need to sit down are cool.”

  “You asked to speak with me,” he says. “I cannot override the Elders.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that,” I tell him. “I’m asking you to talk to me for a minute.”

  He starts, “What do you—”

  “I want to know how much of it was real,” I tell him. “I know the body’s not you. What about the rest of it? While I’m having the sexual fantasies of my life, are you just standing there with a ray gun or something, shooting your stuff in me or are you involved in the process in a real way?”

  “I meet you in your fantasy,” he says. I know he’s dumbing down the language, but I can only imagine that’s a good thing. “Neither of us is ever truly where it appears we are,” he says. “We are here in this room. While physically we may not touch, our minds and yes, even our bodies become one in a way.”

  “So when we’re together, that’s you, not just some sort of sexual auto-pilot?” I ask.

  “You wish me to know your change in conversational tone is intended to allow me to speak to you with greater comfort,” Ryker says.

  “I’m not stupid, all right?” I say. “I know what this is, and it’s not a relationship. Even if that sort of thing were possible, it's not really like you, and I would have much in common.”

  “There is a little experience we share, apart from our experiences of each other,” he agrees.

  “I need to know if the reason I’m comfortable talking to you right now is a result of something you or the others have done,” I tell him.

  “Your calm is your own,” he says.

  “Then what is it?” I ask. “When we’re together, I’m not thinking about where we are. Even when we were together on the observation deck this last time, it was just a matter of fantasy, but I can’t pretend that that’s all this is anymore. Whatever connection I feel with you in that place is what I’m feeling for you now. I don’t deny that, but I know almost nothing about what’s going to happen to my body if I were actual to conceive your child.”

  “It would no longer be my child,” he says. “The Elders have spoken. We are not to meet again.”

  “Then I’m out,” I tell him. “I don’t know if it’s just the tidal waves of endorphins or what, but I know if I’m going to have any part of this, it’s going to have to be with you. I don’t think I could be comfortable with anyone else.”

  “You would not notice the difference,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I tell him, “I would.”

  “You say that without knowing,” Ryker says me.

  “Okay, so you’ve got me there,” I say. “I do know that I’m comfortable with you. All else aside, we have been together quite a bit in the short time since I arrived at the lake.”

  “Thirty-seven times,” Ryker responds.

  Yeah, so I’ve hung around for a repeat performance a few times. The Elders didn’t seem to mind if I stayed before, but Ryker doesn’t need to tell me why. As long as we were actively pursuing conception, it wasn’t a problem, but that’s not what I had asked Ryker. I asked him if I could stay so we could hold each other longer. It’s hard to believe that was only two nights ago.

  “How many times does it usually take?” I ask, more out of curiosity than anything.

  “The human body requires repeat exposure to our DNA before it will accept it,” he says. “Unprepared, your body would see my genetic information as an invading force, even when implanted directly into the—”

  “Okay, I think I’m good on the details,” I interrupt. “Look,” I tell him. “I don’t know if I want to keep doing this. I'm not sure if I can go on like this. What I do know is that I can’t, won’t and don’t want to continue if it’s with someone else.”

  “That is not for me to decide,” he says.

  “Well, maybe they can,” I tell him. “It’s the only chance they have of me ever coming back.”

  A moment later, the door on the wall opposite me slides open again, and the Elders file into the room.

  Ryker stands, and I walk over to his side to face the Elders.

  “I assume you know everything?” I ask.

  “It is a strange request to ask for privacy when you know it cannot be truly granted,” Olive responds.

  “Then you know that I won’t even consider coming back unless Ryker is my mate,” I say, though I get a weird feeling saying the word.

  “It cannot be,” Olive says. “The spark has been lit. It will not extinguish itself otherwise.”

  “What’s so wrong with that?” I ask. “He makes me feel comfortable in an otherwise very uncomfortable situation. Can you understand that?”

  “There are other concerns,” Olive answers. “You will be returned.” With that, the Elders start for the door again.

  “Wait!” I cry.

  “Should you change your mind, you will find us at the darkest point of the lake,” she says, neither turning to look at me nor changing her pace.

  “What does that even mean?!” I shout at the inside of Gramma Ambra’s closet.

  It’s over; I’m back in the cabin. I turn and look outside. It’s still dark.

  I clutch the diary to my chest and lean back against the foot of the bed. Ryker already knew. Before I left the last time he and I were together, he had to have known the Elders’ answer, but he let me hold onto that hope regardless. I can’t decide if that was cruel of him or if it was kind.

  I should never have agreed to it. Those feelings were for a moment so real, so assured. For a few unnaturally long nights, it was tangible, but that’s over now.

  I should have asked about the Arcturian at the lake. I should have asked a lot of things, but from the moment I realized who was standing next to me, everything else just kind of fell by the wayside. Maybe I am crazy. Either way, I can
’t help feeling I was playing with fire.

  Chapter 12

  It’s nearly four before I crawl out of Gramma’s old bed. Last night was the first time I’d slept there since I arrived. If it weren’t for the four slashed tires on my car, I’d probably be on the road right now. Okay, maybe not right now. I took two sleeping pills last night, and I’m still feeling the hangover.

  There’s nothing left to do. Sure, a few things are lying around unboxed, and I’ll still have to call someone to come pick everything up, but getting everything wrapped up would only take a few more boxes and a phone call. It's a shame I was so forceful with Marty yesterday. He’s the only one in town who ever seems like he knows how to get anything not already at the general store.

  While his crush may not be appropriate, he’s not an evil man. He’s never made a move or even actually hit on me, at least since he got married years ago. I probably should have told him a long time ago, but I didn’t have to destroy the guy in the process. I keep telling myself everything is for the best, but if that were the case, why do I feel so gutted?

  I yawn and stretch, though it does little to relieve the fatigue in my muscles. Gramma’s diary is still sitting on the bed next to where I was lying, but I’m not ready to pick it up again. As soon as I saw the word “Arcturian” on the first page, I shut the book.

  I need to start dealing with one huge problem at a time. Last night, I came to final terms with the Arcturians; today, I need to figure out how I’m going to get me and all of Gramma’s stuff out of this stupid hamlet.

  After a while pacing back and forth through the cabin, I take my phone off the coffee table where I left it at least a week ago, and I plug it in. While I was deluding myself, there didn’t seem to be a reason to keep it charged. I hadn’t finished packing yet, and there were still some things left to figure out, but that’s all over and done with now.

  I let the phone charge for a while and then exit the cabin. There’s only one person here at the lake I feel even a little okay approaching right now, but that’s assuming he’s not cruising around the farther reaches of the county. When I get to the house, Molly’s out front, tending her flowers. She doesn’t notice me at first, so I clear my throat.

  Molly looks back toward me and drops her tiny shovel. “Kate, I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to stop by and say hello,” Molly says.

  I smile. I’ve always liked Molly. It’s a bit of a rarity to see her outside, but I’m glad to see a smile on her face.

  Molly has agoraphobia. That’s why the two of them moved here in the first place. From the look of it, though, she’s doing a lot better than she was the last time I saw her outside the house.

  “Hey Molly, you look good. How’ve you been?” I say as she gets to her feet, brushing her hands against the front of her gardening apron.

  “I heard about what happened with your grandmother,” she says. “I hope you know I haven’t been trying to avoid you. I only meant to give you space.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her with a wave of my hand. “Hey, is Max around? There are a couple of things I wanted to ask him about.”

  “He should be back before too long, dear,” Molly says. “If you’d like, I can fix us up some lemonade while we wait for him.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I tell her.

  She smiles. “Oh, I’ve been looking for an excuse to take a break as it is,” she says. “Come on in.”

  It finally clicks that she just wants to go inside. “Sure,” I tell her. “Lemonade would be great.”

  “Good,” she says and a second later, she’s up the steps to her porch and is holding the door open for me, waiting for me to catch up with her.

  I get inside, and Molly closes the door after me.

  “Where are the kids?” I ask.

  “Oh, Shanna’s away at college,” she says. “She’s doing well. Burke just finished his enlistment with the Air Force. He’s living in Iowa now.”

  “I can hardly believe it,” I tell her. “I think the last time I saw Burke, he was trying to talk Max into letting him take the squad car out for a spin.”

  “Max might have let him, too, if Burke could have seen over the steering wheel,” Molly laughs. “What about you, dear? What have you been up to since the last time we saw each other?”

  As much as I adore Molly, it’s not always the easiest thing coming by to see her. Some days are better than others for her, but the bad days have always seemed to be the most prevalent. I think the last time I saw Molly it was for only a couple of minutes about three years ago.

  “Not a lot for the most part,” I tell her. “I guess you’ve heard about Gramma.”

  “Yes, I heard,” she says. “I am terribly sorry for your loss. Ambra was a kind soul and a decent woman. I hope you know I wasn’t trying to avoid you since you’ve arrived. I only meant to give you space.”

  “Nobody seems to be able to tell me exactly what happened,” I say. “I don’t know, you didn’t happen to hear anything, did you?”

  It may seem like a silly question, given her condition, but Molly is both curious and has a lot of time on her hands. I don’t know who their internet provider could be, but she can and does write books based upon what she gleans from her daily research.

  “The doctor said it was age,” Molly answers, “but, I don’t think he knows what he’s talking about if you ask me. Ambra was in excellent health. I don’t remember her ever being sick to tell you the truth.”

  Ambra was sick all the time, but there’s nothing to gain by pointing that out to her.

  I follow Molly into the kitchen and ask if I can help.

  “No,” she says with a smile. “You just have a seat and tell me everything that’s happened since the last time we saw each other.”

  I think back, but there’s not a whole lot to discuss. “Well, I think I was still in high school the last time I saw you. I’ll end the suspense; I graduated,” I tell her.

  “No suspense, dear,” she says. “You’ve always been bright. Are there any men in your life?”

  Ryker flashes through my thoughts, but I push that aside.

  “I never really made that connection with anyone,” I tell her.

  “Dear, you’re still very young,” Molly says as she pulls a bag of lemons from her fridge and sets it on the countertop. “What about that young man I saw you with a little while ago?” she asks.

  “Oh, you mean the last time we saw each other?” I ask.

  That would have been Nick (stupid Nick.)

  “No,” she says. “I’m talking about that man you met in the street a couple of weeks ago. He seemed rather handsome, but I haven’t seen him around since then. Is he a friend; boyfriend?”

  “It was probably just Marty,” I tell her. “He’s been helping me out a little getting what I need to finish taking care of Gramma’s place.”

  “Dear, I’d recognize Marty. He was a stunningly handsome man with long, dark hair. Don’t you remember?” she asks.

  She’s talking about Ryker; she has to be. But that’s impossible. I’ve only ever met Ryker on the ship. The two of us certainly haven’t gone for a stroll around the lake.

  Regardless, my mouth is dry, and I’m having trouble figuring out what to tell her.

  “Oh, you can play coy if you want, but I saw the way he was looking at you,” she says.

  “When was this?” I ask. “Where were you?”

  She just keeps pressing those lemons, one sliced half at a time.

  “What do you know about him?” I ask. If she doesn’t know the truth about Lake Vespertine, it’ll just sound like a stupid question, but if she does, I might get some of my lingering questions answered.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure,” she says. “It’s little wonder they’d pick you, though.”

  My eyes go wide a moment and then a bit farther when the front door opens a second later.

  “Molly, I’m back!” Max calls from the front room.

 
“We’re in here!” Molly calls back, flashing me a smile.

  She said it was little wonder they’d pick me. She knows, of course, she knows. I’ve never seen Ryker outside of the ship, but this has to be her way of telling me that she knows; only now I can’t ask her about it for fear that Max doesn’t.

  “Well hello there, Kate,” Max says. “What brings you around here this evening?”

 

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