by Karen Kelley
A door closed.
The front door? She stopped and listened. Her super-sensitive hearing detected footsteps walking away from the building. She got out of bed and went to the window, pulling back the curtain. Roan walked up the road, and then disappeared into the dark of night.
Where was he going? What was he doing?
She was thoughtful as she went back to bed, turning on her side and scrunching the extra pillow against her chest much like a lover would hold her close. It didn’t matter where he was going. Only where he wasn’t, and that was not in her bed.
Ass.
Roan had to get out of the building. Damn it, he knew he’d gone way past the boundaries of where an instructor should go. Lyraka knew how to push his buttons, and she’d pushed.
He took off at a jog up the hill. Even though it was dark, he knew the path well, and there was enough light from the full moon that he could see a few feet in front of him.
Hell, he should know every bump in the road. He’d been running it for the last few weeks, coming up here when he knew no one would be around. He knew he was pushing himself to get back into shape. Sometimes a person had to do what they had to do. He was stifled here at the training center. It hadn’t taken him long to get his fill of training rookies, especially Nerakians.
The familiar ache in his left leg began to throb. He gritted his teeth and pushed past the pain. Instead, he focused on the beat of his heart, on his lungs as he inhaled and exhaled.
Besides, it would get his mind off Lyraka. He stumbled. Damn, why did she intrude on his thoughts? Probably because he knew what she looked like naked. Man, it had been better than anything he could’ve imagined—high pointed breasts with dark rosy nipples, small waist, and hips that gently curved. He shouldn’t have stayed, but the bubbles had begun to disappear and he couldn’t make himself leave.
He drew in a deep breath as sweat broke out on his forehead.
Ah, hell, he had to quit thinking about her. He hurt so bad right now that he could barely stand it. He picked up the pace. When his leg throbbed to the point that he finally cried out, he knew he had to stop. He began the journey back to the building, limping. It served him right for coming on to her like he had today. But man, what he wouldn’t give for just one night curled up next to her.
Chapter 9
“We have to strike soon!” Chief advisor Kragen warned as he paced across the royal bed chamber.
Prince Banyon, only child of the ruler of the Rovert nation, narrowed his eyes on the other man. “You forget your place.” Did no one respect their leaders anymore? Technically, he wasn’t a leader yet, but any moment his father would die, and he, Banyon, would be the supreme ruler.
Kragen visibly swallowed before lowering his gaze to the floor. “Of course, Prince. I only worry for your safety and the safety of our planet.”
“And no doubt, your own neck.” Banyon let his gaze trail over Kragen. He was getting fat and lazy as he wallowed in his wealth. Perfection was beauty, and right now, Kragen was ugly. The prince hated ugly people.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror and knew he looked perfect. He preened as he studied his reflection—hair as dark as his planet, creamy pale skin, lazy brown eyes. He was more than handsome. Women fell at his feet, begging him to mate with them. Rovert men were known for their good looks, and the royals more so. Even his father, as he lay dying in his bed, was still a handsome man.
His gaze went to the small scar above his right eye. His only imperfection. Anger filled him. He regretted not being able to get revenge even after all these years.
A bug crawled across the floor. A big, fat, juicy croacher. Banyon’s tongue shot out of his mouth like a lizard, wrapped around the insect, and snapped back into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the sweet juices.
When he opened his eyes, he caught Kragen’s reflection in the mirror. He knew Kragen well. The man would have taken the bug for himself if Banyon hadn’t been paying attention. The man ate too much as it was.
Banyon’s gaze swept over Kragen. His chief advisor had no cares for his own appearance. It was disgusting, but he was still useful, even though he sometimes overstepped his boundaries. Of course, if the day ever came when Kragen proved to be too much of a bother, Banyon would have him disposed of.
“What I meant to say was that Nerak is allowing earthlings to land, male earthlings. You remember what’s been passed down from ancient times. What if they breed? The Nerakian men were fierce warriors. They invaded our planet, killed our people.”
“Because we invaded them first and killed their people,” Banyon said. “They retaliated. No one can blame them for that. It’s the way of the universe.”
He brushed a white speck off his dark coat, doubting there were more than ten people on the whole Nerakian planet who could even fight. They’d grown lazy since there weren’t any more wars.
“What if they start breeding and someday invade us again? What if they bring more men and train them to fight? Will there be threats against us again?”
“That won’t happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“We are at peace with Nerak,” he spat. “My father signed the peace treaty ages ago.” And ruined all their lives.
“But your father is dying.”
Kragen was right. Even now his father gasped for each breath. When that last breath ceased, Banyon would be given the power to make decisions. He would restore their people to what they once were—fierce fighters who brought all the spoils of war to their king.
“It’s almost a shame that he has to suffer so,” Kragen spoke softly. “He would be better off if he were to…die quietly.”
Anger rushed through Banyon. “You dare to speak treason against the Supreme Ruler? Would you do the same if it was I lying in the royal chambers? Would you talk of ending my life?”
“Of course not, Prince.” Sweat ran down Kragen’s fat jowls. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and mopped his face. “I don’t want the Nerakians to gain in strength and our planet caught unaware.”
“That would never happen.” But Banyon wasn’t so sure. His warriors had gotten lax from years with only an occasional raid. They were fat and lazy. Captives were brought in by the slave traders, rather than the men going out and hunting for themselves.
“My spies have told me some familiar faces have returned to Nerak.”
Banyon was bored with their conversation. He wanted to hear no more talk about what could happen. His father’s men guarded their king well, protecting him from crossing over until it was his time. Until he died, Banyon could do nothing. He turned away from Kragen, dismissing him with a supercilious wave of his hand.
“As you wish, Prince. I only thought you might want to know Aasera lives.”
Banyon whipped around. “What is this you speak? She’s dead. Her country celebrated her life.” He reached up and ran a finger down the scar above his right eye. Cold fear was quickly replaced with burning anger.
Kragen shook his head. “No, she lives. My informant tells me she’s training new explorers for travel.”
Frustration filled Banyon. It wasn’t fair that she’d been alive all this time while he’d had to suffer unmercifully every time he looked in the mirror and saw the two inch scar.
“It makes no difference. No one has ever been able to capture a Nerakian female off Nerak. Do you propose we land on their planet undetected? It’s never been done. Again, you give me information without solutions. I’m beginning to wonder what use you are to me.”
“There are other ways to get revenge.” Kragen looked pointedly at Banyon’s scar, something few men were brave enough to do.
“What, snap my fingers and she appears before me?”
“Aasera was banished from Nerak when she became pregnant. She made the decision to keep the child and live on Earth.” Kragen examined his fingers. “The child must mean a lot to her. I mean, she gave up everything for it. The girl is still on Earth.”
“I’ll never be able to leave until my father dies. The ships are closely guarded.”
“Like I said, there is a way that will…ease your father’s passing. It could be costly, though.”
This was where Kragen had been leading him all along. His advisor thought he was being crafty. He didn’t know that nothing mattered as long as the end result was the same.
“Make it happen. The gems will be waiting when it’s done.”
“I will also send men to Earth as soon as it is safe.”
“No, I’ll go myself.”
“It’s dangerous, Prince.”
“The stupid earthlings won’t suspect me of landing on their planet. Besides, I want to see this place I’ve only heard about.”
“But…but…we aren’t travelers.”
“We are now.”
“When do you plan to leave, Your Highness?”
“Soon.” He smiled, his pupils turning to gray shards of glass. “Leave me. On your way out, tell them to send in the new female.”
Kragen started to say something, apparently thought better of it, and bowed instead. The door closed silently behind him.
Banyon began to laugh. Oh how he would make Aasera pay for disfiguring him. A Rovert’s skin did not heal like other species. They had to carry scars around until they crossed over. The mark Aasera had left on him was a testament to the fact he’d been beaten. He’d make Aasera’s child pay, and she’d pay dearly.
There was a light knock on his chamber door.
Banyon hadn’t seen the new female. One of the traders had brought her. He’d been told she was quite beautiful. Anticipation rose to the surface. He was more than ready to conquer her.
“Enter.”
The female was in chains, bound at her wrists, a longer chain dropped down to her bound feet. Ah, he did like a chained female. This one trembled. He would’ve liked one with a little more spirit, more fight. His pulse raced. He needed an outlet for his anger. He nodded at the guard. The man bowed, then left.
Banyon walked around the female. She trembled more, her chains rattling. She was easy to look upon. The trader hadn’t lied about her beauty. Her pale green hair flowed past her shoulders.
When he faced her again, she raised her eyes, then quickly lowered them.
They were deep crimson. He didn’t have a fondness for that shade. He stepped closer and removed the clasp at her shoulder, tossing it to the side. She gasped and tried to hold her robe in place.
“Let it fall,” he told her in a voice that was soft to the ears.
The trembles that plagued her body became more fierce. No, she wouldn’t be any sport at all. Her robe fell to the floor.
“Ah, I see the trader was right. You are quite magnificent.”
The girl cowered before him as she tried to shield her nakedness. It would do her no good, of course. Tears formed in her eyes as she began to cry and beg. It always amazed him when he saw species who cried. Roverts didn’t have tear ducts so couldn’t produce any moisture.
“Please…” she pleaded. “I beg you…”
“Yes, you usually all do, but of course, it never does any good. I will still look upon your nakedness.”
“I will be shamed if you take me,” she cried, turning her head away.
“Even if I shower you in magnificent jewels? The finest furs?”
Her eyes widened. “Furs? Jewels?”
When she looked at him, he saw the speculative gleam in her eyes. It was just as he’d thought, she would be no sport.
“Will you remove the chains, my Prince,” she whispered. “I want to hold you close.”
He laughed. Her smile wavered when he looked at her, and the look of fear reentered her eyes. She tried to wiggle away when his mouth opened over hers, then connected to her lips with an unbreakable suction. He held her head in place while she squirmed beneath him. She was sweet, like the fruit the traders brought to him, but there was a bitter aftertaste.
When he finished with her, he moved away, and she crumpled to the floor. He hadn’t really meant to steal all her essence. Not right now, anyway. She’d been rather fun to toy with, and he’d wanted to mate. Oh, well. It would be at least a week before she had any fight inside her, and he was well satiated for the time being.
He called for the guards. “Take her away. And the next time that trader lands here, bring him to me. I don’t like the lower classes. He needs to be taught a lesson.”
He barely gave the female another glance. Were there none left that had any fight in them? He flung himself down on the lounging sofa, and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. Life could be so dreary at times.
Yes, it was time he went to Earth.
Chapter 10
Lyraka slapped her hand down on the alarm so it would shut up. When she rolled over, she gasped with pain. She’d only thought she was sore last night. Her whole body was one big ball of ache. It was a good thing Roan hadn’t come to her room during the night.
Anyone would have thought all the exercising she’d been doing for the last week would have prepared her for the obstacle course.
Not.
She slowly sat up, easing her legs over the side of the bed, then just sat there. How was she going to make it through the day? She glanced at the clock again, hoping time would slow down—or stop. That’s when she noticed the jar. It hadn’t been there last night. She grimaced as she reached for it.
Mentholated cream, she read. Eases sore muscles.
So, Roan had come into her room during the night. Had he looked down at her? Had he wanted to crawl beneath the covers? Make love to her? Apparently not, since the other side of the bed was empty. Had she been drooling in her sleep? Ugh, she hoped not. Major turn-off.
No, she had a feeling he only played her like a cat with a mouse. She wasn’t giving up and going home.
But she would use the cream.
She unscrewed the lid and sniffed, then quickly moved it away from her nose. This would certainly keep him at arm’s length.
With ten minutes to spare, she walked into the kitchen. Roan was already there, sitting at the table drinking coffee. She didn’t speak as she walked past him to the refrigerator and opened the door.
“I see you found the cream on your night table.”
Her lip curled. Yeah, she stunk and she knew it. She’d practically bathed in the stuff, and smelled to high heaven now, but she had to admit, the heat from the cream eased the tightness in her muscles.
Roan didn’t have to leave the jar in her room. He could’ve let her suffer all day. So maybe he wasn’t all bad.
She grabbed the carton of juice and shut the refrigerator door. “It’s helping. Thanks.”
“You’ll feel better the more you work out.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.
He chuckled. She paused pouring her juice. He didn’t laugh that often. She sort of wished he’d do it more. It had a nice sound, and for some reason, she didn’t feel quite so alone. Alone wasn’t good.
“The obstacle course is everyone’s worst nightmare.” He leaned back in his chair. “You did good. I was impressed and I’m not impressed very often.”
Shock was a mild word for what she was feeling right now. Shock and pleasure. Just when she wanted to dislike the man, he surprised her. Maybe dislike wasn’t the right word. He’d taught her a lot this week. The basics were a necessary evil, they were boring, and they frustrated her. Rather than dislike, maybe he just aggravated her—a lot.
Roan drained his cup and went back to the pot to pour another. The man was a serious caffeine addict. So was her mom. Aasera had adopted quite a few of Earth’s customs. Lyraka wondered if her mother was able to get coffee on Nerak.
Once, Aasera had told her that they had smoothies and food capsules on Nerak, but no real foo
d. It didn’t sound like such a great planet to her. She suddenly realized just how much she missed her mother.
Roan wasn’t a bad sub for company. He still made her pulse speed up and not just because he had her running on the treadmill every day.
He looked up and caught her gaze before she had a chance to look away.
“Uh…” She cleared her throat. “What exactly are we going to be doing today?”
“Have you ever fired a weapon?”
“No.”
His grin was slow. “How did you expect to kill the bad guys without a gun?”
“I guess I never really thought about it.” And now that she had, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Do we really kill people?” Could she kill someone? How did anyone know these things unless they were actually in that sort of situation?
“Sometimes. Not as often as people think. And only the really nasty bad guys.”
She nodded, but wondered if the time ever came, could she kill someone?
“Killing isn’t easy. You can’t hesitate. If you do, it could cost you your life.”
She took a deep breath. Coming into this, she’d known there would be things she wouldn’t like doing. But taking a life?
“If someone had a gun pointed at your mother, and you knew in your heart he was going to pull the trigger, and you had a gun and could take him out, what would you do?”
“I think I could pull the trigger to save someone.” She downed her juice, then set the glass in the sink. “So, we’re going to a target range?”
He set his cup in the sink beside her glass. “It’s inside, but grab a jacket. It’s still a little cool out.”
She was actually getting to do something. Target practice—firing a real gun. The only gun she’d ever held was on a video game an artist’s kid had left behind. Her mother had confiscated it when she’d seen Lyraka firing at bad guys. Aasera said it was too violent.