Black Planet: Tiger Eyes

by Belinda McBride

  Grace was painfully aroused. Her head tilted up and she met his eyes, huge tears shimmering in her own. He shut his eyes against her grief, against the moisture that burned his lids, escaping to trickle down his cheeks.

  This wasn't how it should be; they should be in a bed, sipping champagne, the three of them touching and caressing.

  He opened his eyes. Hers had drifted closed, and he recognized that look on her face.

  "She's close.” Darah's voice was thick in his ear, breathless. He was close as well. His thrusts were fast and ragged, a dark, delicious pain pressed deep inside of Milo's body. He grasped Milo's hip and forced him tighter to Grace, keeping that tempo.

  "Together, Milo. We'll come together."

  Trust Darah to keep track of their arousals! His breath was harsh in Milo's ear. His arm was like an iron band across his chest, strong fingers digging into his shoulder.

  When it happened, it was like the ringing of a bell, the rush of a wave. A moment of breathless silence and then Grace's moan, deep and throaty; his own groan escaped. Darah bent to Milo's shoulder, his sweaty face resting on his own hand, where he clasped Milo's shoulder.

  Darah shouted his climax, shuddering and thrusting, carrying Milo into Grace, who was pumping hard against his cock. His ejaculate burst, spattering against the thin plastic of the barrier.

  Even as his body shuddered in bliss, Milo's heart ached for Grace, for himself and for Darah. Their first time together shouldn't have been through a sterile wall of plastic.

  "Milo.” Darah's voice was soft, compassionate. “Milo, look at her."

  He dragged his eyes open. Grace still stood, body pressed against his. He could see the pulse racing in her neck. He felt Darah's heart slamming against his back.

  Grace looked up then, her eyes luminous, a smile wreathing her face as she leaned in again, head against his chest. Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear what she said.

  "Thank you. She said thank you for sharing your first time with her."

  For a very long time, they stayed like that, unmoving, simply giving and taking comfort.

  I am complete. The thought shimmered through his consciousness, but Milo wasn't certain whose mind whispered those words.

  Maybe they'd all thought the same thing.

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  Chapter Ten

  Grace's eyes slid open against the darkness, searching.

  Usually she looked around until she located Darah, but he wasn't here. He'd been gone for days, and wouldn't return for several more.

  Milo's eyes carried a sobriety that saddened her. Even with the rekindling of their relationship, she could see that he missed Darah. Their relationship was rooted in friendship, nourished with a healthy dose of lust.

  She envied them a bit. She was part of a threesome, but not really. She was on the other side of a wall. And she wasn't certain if there would be room for her when she was free.

  The doctors had told her she'd be in the sterile environment another week, but the week had stretched into two. She felt good, better than she had in years; however, they still worried about her fragile immune system. In Grace's opinion, the sooner she got out and started dealing with the outside world, the better.

  How could she grow strong otherwise?

  The dorms were heavily secured, and Milo had his best people posted, but most of the Thalians had accompanied Darah into space, to where the Nephris were hiding. Their technology was more advanced than Darah expected, and they'd managed to avoid capture.

  With a clear direction to investigate, Milo had followed the trail to the Red Flags, and then to Nakashima's organization. He didn't have proof yet, not enough for an arrest, but he was close.

  Too close.

  Grace didn't think her heart could handle the tension. She was trapped, and all of her protectors had been drawn away.

  She'd never met the elusive Nakashima, and was grateful that she hadn't. The man had taken on almost mythical proportions in the underground. She'd heard whispers of his influence and his power. In her worst nightmares, she couldn't have dreamed that she'd become his quarry. It amazed her that she'd managed to elude him for as long as she had.

  They were good, but so was she. Even sick, she'd stayed ahead of Nakashima's hounds.

  But Grace was now at a standstill, trapped in a prison of plastic and microbe-free air.

  Without Darah watching over her, they wouldn't see it coming.

  She rolled over in her bed, imagining the big alien. He'd implied that he had a mandatory furlough from duty, that even if the attack on the Nephris took only days, he'd be gone longer. While she never heard his thoughts as clearly as she had that day, she'd caught hints from his mind before he left, extreme anxiety worrying at him.

  He was afraid that he wouldn't make it in time ... that he'd humiliate himself before his lovers. He worried about her, about Grace and the hunters who stalked her. His concern increased hers.

  And now he was gone.

  The sound that had roused her came again, the whisper of cloth, a hushed footstep. Her skin pebbled with goose bumps, and slowly, she eased from her bed, into a crouch close to the floor.

  A scream shattered the night, and all hell broke loose.

  On the wall, the dim lights of the monitors blinked out. The power had been cut. She heard running, voices, some harsh and low, but mostly female.

  She was in the wing where the Thalian families lived, and most of the men were away, hunting Nephris.

  Grace moved slightly, the door to her room slammed open, and before her eyes, a dark figure rose. The dim light of the moon gleamed on a blade, and her sterile prison was breached as the plastic was slashed open.

  They'd found her.

  * * * *

  "Don't make a move, Gracie."

  She knew the voice. She was still hidden, and Grace edged forward, looking for an advantage.

  The gleaming tip of a gun swept across the room, harsh breathing rattling on the air. “Ah ... I see you. Get up off the floor, Gracie. Slow. I'm supposed to take you alive, but dead is also an option. Those bird women will fill our quota."

  "Tyreese, you don't want to do this ... you really, really don't want to take those women."

  He snorted in humor. “Yeah, I do. I really, really do, Gracie."

  She'd straightened, her hands elevated, heart slamming in her chest. For the first time in over a month, Grace breathed fresh air. She smelled his sour sweat. He was more frightened than he let on.

  "Turns out those Nephris really are foreigners ... from another planet, Grace. And they're looking for women. Nakashima wants to kill you himself, but I figure he might be willing to sell you off planet."

  "Trust me on this, Ty. The Thalians will rip you limb from limb if you take their women."

  "If they can find me."

  "They already know who you are, Tyreese. They're telepathic. All they have to do is brush minds with someone who might know you."

  He looked at her, dark eyes gleaming, perhaps with greed ... perhaps a bit of fear?

  "They'll fly you up into the heavens and drop you into the Bay. If the fall doesn't kill you..."

  "I know ... the landing will."

  "Imagine falling to Earth from the clouds, Ty. You'd have plenty of time to think about all the mistakes in your life."

  For a long, heavy moment he stared at her, and finally forced a laugh. “I don't remember you being such a drama queen, Gracie.” He gestured with the gun. “Walk. Carefully, slowly, and no kung fu shit. I've seen you fight."

  "I've been very sick, Ty. Not much of a threat anymore."

  "I know you're sick, babe. But nobody gets Dragon's Blood and survives as long as you have. So watch your step and nothing funny."

  Grace gritted her teeth in frustration and stepped through the rent in the barrier, out into the freedom that she'd been craving.

  Out, at the point of a gun.

  Hands level with her shoulders, Grace stepped into the darkened hallway. En
ough light leaked in from the windows that she could see roughly a dozen figures huddled against a wall, the handful of Thalian women and their children.

  When she paused, Tyreese pushed her from behind, and she stumbled to the wall into the midst of the small cluster of Thalians. Gentle hands caught her, steadied her.

  Still slightly weak, she leaned heavily against a wall, and then glanced down in surprise as a hand slipped into hers. It was a dark-haired boy, perhaps seven or eight years old. The smile he gave was full of false bravado.

  The front of her forehead tickled, words slipped in and out of her mind. The language was strange, but the meanings were clear.

  These women were not victims. Already, they were planning to overpower their enemies.

  The woman next to her had golden hair that gleamed even in the darkness. She was the mother of Oden, the boy who was holding her hand.

  The small group of Red Flags stood around nervously, waiting for something.

  A ship would land on the roof. A silent craft, small enough to enter Earth's atmosphere undetected.

  Grace bit her lip, considering. She was unfamiliar with the building, uncertain what the security consisted of.

  They are frightened. The computers will reboot soon, and the alarms will sound. The doors will open.

  Grace had a sudden and shocking realization. She could see in the dark.

  Her illness had robbed her of most of her vision, and now she could see in the dark, hear the phantom voices of the Thalians in her mind.

  She thought of the numerous transfusions that she'd received, and wondered ... who exactly had donated their blood?

  We did.

  The voices whispered like gossamer in her brain. She leaned back against the wall, her legs too weak to support her weight. The boy ... Oden ... he squeezed her hand and she felt his fear. She felt the tension in the air around her. She focused her thoughts. Can you contact anyone? Mind to mind?

  We must be near. Lama knows, Lama called for help.

  But even as the exchange was made, their faces all grew fierce in concentration.

  Our people know, but they are far away. Your men are coming...

  Grace allowed her gaze to wander the room, noting the still forms of the guards near the doors, pools of blood spreading like spilled ink on the floor. She wondered if the Flags had taken their weapons. Most likely.

  One of the invaders was temptingly close ... if only she was still strong. Still fearless. But now, Grace was weak. Weakness brought fear. She was unable to act.

  Wait...

  She sensed rather than heard a vibration in the air. Tyreese looked up expectantly. Even in the darkness, he was strikingly handsome, his skin dusky. His shorn scalp gleamed in the moonlight. He'd had his skull tattooed. An Asian dragon snaked around his head, down into the collar of his tee shirt.

  She rolled her eyes. Aiden would have ground him to dust for the temerity of sporting the symbol of their family.

  She'd be content to break his neck.

  Her gaze moved on to Joaquin, his black hair long and thick, hanging to his collar. He wore a thick gold chain around his neck. When he fought, he led with his left. She'd taken him down to the mat numerous times. Grace had always been cautious during sparring, never letting the other Flags know just how good she was. But he was always such a sucker for a low kick.

  Mariah, Joaquin's wife. Bad strategy to send them out together. Those two were truly in love; if one went down, the other would lose it. Mariah had one stiletto tucked into her bodice, another behind her neck. Her nails were long, dagger sharp and tipped with hardened silver; five deadly weapons in each hand.

  In Grace's opinion, she read far too many comic books.

  Another invader, but she didn't think he was a Flag. Tyreese deferred to the man. He was sleek, professional. Yakuza. She looked him over and then caught Ty looking at her. She gave him a knowing smile and his expression turned dark. Tyreese Gonzales was on a short leash! The Red Flags were now under Nakashima's thumb.

  He'd always wanted to play with the big dogs, now the big dogs were playing with the Flags.

  Tension among the women mounted. She heard footsteps and then a thump at the door. Unfortunately, it wasn't rescue.

  The man who entered was tall, dark, fearsome. He was swathed in flowing white robes, uncaring of the fact that it made him a target in the darkness. Next to her Oden shrunk backwards, hiding behind his mother, his hand still clutched in Grace's.

  It wasn't the man's face, for he was handsome, but rather his bearing, his arrogance, the contempt that was so clear toward the Flags, even the Yakuza lieutenant. His glance slithered over the women, lingered briefly on Grace, and then they were invisible.

  "This is all? Seven Thalians and a human female?"

  "The children are of value as well. Three girl children, two boys."

  Other robed men had entered the room, their bearing identical in their hateful disregard of the women.

  "The only reason we consider those creatures is for their inherent scientific intellect. If they breed true, we will be forced to remove the extra appendages of their offspring."

  Grace's stomach rolled in horror.

  "The black female is the only acceptable one of the group. Her sons will be tall and strong."

  Tyreese smirked. Grace contented herself with picturing him falling through the sky.

  The men argued more. The Nephris were unhappy with the delivery, unhappy that they had to ferry the Red Flags back to safety. Their small ship was overcrowded, they were low on fuel. The Thalians had been harassing them mercilessly.

  But the rest of the women were waiting, hidden somewhere in Nakashima's properties. As they grew closer to an agreement, the women moved uneasily; rescue would not arrive in time.

  Grace sucked in a deep breath, stifling her fear. I can't do this. I'm too weak.

  Her hands sweated and trembled. She swallowed her fear, and that's when she smelled tobacco.

  No one in the room was smoking.

  Grandpa Lee?

  It's not about muscle, Tiger, it's about brain and skill and balance.

  Her heart raced, and then steadied. He was right, she'd studied for years. Technique. Knowledge was power in a very literal sense.

  Relax. Remember what you already know.

  To her sides, Grace felt the Thalian women begin to gather themselves, to look for the opening. She decided to make her own opening. She relaxed, and to her delight, power surged through her body, centuries of the accumulated knowledge of her family. She let go, giving her control to the ancestors. Inside her mind, Guo Lee gave a little smile, the nod of his head, and from there, everything moved in slow motion.

  Her foot shot out, catching an ankle, knocking the Yakuza to the floor. His weapon flew from his hand. He writhed, joints separated, pain wracking his body.

  Mariah was face down on the floor, her deadly weapons rendered harmless. Around her, the Thalians fought in silence. Those powerful wings beat the air, battering the Nephris invaders about the face and head. From the corner of her eye, Grace saw a gun come up, the flash of discharge, and one of the women fell backwards. Blood streaked her chest.

  Tyreese turned the weapon on her, but it was too late. She wrenched it from his hand and turned the blunt grip on him, slamming him in the head. And then it was gone, clattering into the darkness.

  The battle was brief but endless. Another Thalian fell, injured, perhaps dead. Grace fought with efficiency, reserving her strength. Take down and finish, but just short of the kill. She'd let Milo's people deal with punishment.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Oden dart to where his mother lay bleeding, still alive, but laboring for breath. Before she could act, the Nephris leader had seized the boy by the arm, holding the kicking, screaming child tight to his body. The second and third Nephris did the same, taking girls.

  The screams of the children mingled with the screams of the mothers, echoing through the halls and in her head, shattering Grace'
s focus. When Tyreese charged, she reacted. Grace struck, her hands becoming Tiger, gripping, rending, crushing, and he went down like a rock, the damage to his internal organs dire, probably mortal.

  "Oden!"

  His mother dragged herself across the floor, a broken wing trailing, and Grace lunged for the Nephris, too late. Too late.

  The door slammed shut, barred from the other side, and Grace could only watch through the bulletproof window as they disappeared from view. With the rage of all present, she screamed and pounded furiously at the glass.

  * * * *

  Oden's mother was a beautiful female named Lila. She died in a pool of blood, and then returned to life at the skilled hands of the other Thalians who were gifted doctors and scientists.

  They grimly attended to the wounded, while Grace ripped sheets to tie up the fallen criminals. She was unmoved as Tyreese groaned and gurgled, his life bleeding into the inside of his body. The autopsy would show trauma to his heart and liver, but they would be unable to determine the cause.

  Tiger Fist.

  Joaquin and Mariah both survived, glaring as they watched Grace move around the room. The injured Yakuza wouldn't meet her eye. He already knew his fate at the hands of his boss. He was a dead man. It didn't matter to Grace. The Thalians would have his secrets.

  The outer doors of the dormitory burst open. The power was still off and they'd been sealed tight. To her relief, Milo came through, followed by several uniformed officers. A few moments later, Darah arrived with Thalian Guardsmen; white-faced and grim, he knew the losses they'd sustained before he entered the room.

  One Thalian female lay dead, three children had been stolen. Lila was near death.

  Grace found a chair and collapsed into it, the enormity of the raid filling her mind.

  They'd come for her. If not for Grace, these people would still be sleeping in their beds. Horror and guilt trickled into her chest, and she remembered the look on Oden's face as they carried him away.