Love, Encoded (Selected Evolution Series Book 1)

by Sandra Harris

  “Why would you do that?”

  Confusion wrinkled Draken’s features.

  “You have become involved, have you not?”

  “How is that relevant?”

  Adam’s hand gripped her shoulder. “It’s alright, angel, we expected this, besides it’s probably academic.”

  She turned to him, stared into his face in an attempt to find answers. “Why would you expect it?” Tears rushed to her eyes and she tightened the muscles of her throat to prevent a sob. God she was getting so close to the end of her tether. “I don’t want you leave me, but”—she laced her hands together in a fierce grip—“but if you do, why should you be punished? What am I missing?”

  Adam leaned in and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t ignore the terror clawing at her that despite their earlier words, they would leave her. That the temptation of exploring space would be far more attractive than remaining with her.

  “We’ll nev—”

  “You have not told her?” Draken demanded.

  Told me what?

  “We hadn’t arrived at that before you interrupted,” Nick growled.

  She frowned at his terse response.

  “You must not continue your relationship with Miss Rasmussen without her being fully aware of the circumstances.”

  What the heck is going on here?

  “You are in no position to dictate to us about our relationship with Sarah,” Adam snarled. “We have chosen her, not you.”

  A rush of relief left her light headed at Adam’s words. The muscles on Draken’s chest tensed, then with what seemed an enormous effort he relaxed.

  “You misunderstand,” he said. “I do not presume to tell you what you can or cannot do, I simply put to you, for Miss Rasmussen’s sake, that she be aware of all the facts.”

  Nick and Adam’s shoulders stiffened, hesitation hung over their big frames, then they crouched before her. Adam’s fingers folded around her knees, Nick captured her hands in his and held tight.

  “The genetic enhancements,” Nick began, “they compel us to love”—he swallowed, stress sheered through his eyes—“they compel us to love hybrid women like you.”

  She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around that. These Anaconians could manipulate love? She stared aghast at her men.

  “But that’s just wrong! You shouldn’t be subject to the mandates of others when it comes to love.” She spun her gaze between the two of them. “Did you know? Did you know it would happen? You agreed to it?”

  Nick’s grip tightened a fraction and he shook her hands within the capsule of his. The warmth of Adam’s palms ran up and down her calves.

  “It was a possibility we didn’t believe in,” Nick said, his glance dropping to her lap.

  “But now you do?”

  They lifted intense gazes to her. “With all our hearts.”

  A flash of anger pressed through her chest and she narrowed her eyes at them. “Do you love all these hybrid women?”

  “No, angel.” Adam’s hand lifted and his warm knuckles traced a gentle line down her cheek. “You are the only woman we love. The only woman we will ever love.”

  A shaft of defeat and disappointment pierced her. “Because you have to.”

  “Sarah, honey, don’t think we aren’t overjoyed that the woman we fell for is someone as wonderful and vibrant as you.”

  Her heart sank through her gutted stomach to her feet. Yes, but it’s not real is it?

  Sadness filled her like stagnant lake water and she knew she couldn’t keep the emotion from showing in her eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you should be removed from the exploration programme.”

  The pressure of Nick’s hands on hers increased marginally. Adam scrubbed at the back of his neck.

  “A chemical produced as a by-product of the genetic enhancements is used as a vector by a protector’s bodies—our bodies—to create a substance in that of a hybrid woman—in this case you—that will enhance sexual pleasure in her.”

  Well that doesn’t sound so bad.

  “Just as it does for food and air,” Adam continued, “you’re body will become dependant on it.”

  She blinked at him. “Dependant as in addicted?”

  “Not in the literal sense of the word, no. You will not require more and more of the chemical produced by us when we sexually bond with you. However you will require a certain amount to remain . . . sane.”

  Disbelief seized her synapses then denunciation kicked them into life. They’ve got to be kidding. “How much and how often?” she squeaked.

  Draken’s shrug indicated a certain amount of humiliation and chagrin. “Uncertain. It is recommended you engage in sexual intercourse at least once a week.”

  How cold that sounds.

  She lowered her gaze to Nick and Adam. “So would I become addicted to both of you?”

  “I don’t know, angel. The other hybrid women who have a protector lover have only one. Marnia?” Adam turned to the woman. “What do you think?”

  “I could only speculate,” Marnia’s soft voice, rich with the ring of compassion, drifted across the room. “Sarah will definitely develop dependency with the first protector she shares sex with. I postulate that it may be possible that if sex is engaged with another protector in an extremely brief period of time after the first coupling that she would become addicted to his semen as well.”

  Oh, hell—Theron Barclese. Oh My God! Is that why—“Is . . .” Horror clenched her throat, strangling her words. “Is Barclese a protector? Did he—”

  “Be easy. He has not contaminated you.”

  Utter relief swamped her and her shoulders slumped at Marnia’s firm reply. Reaction rippled through her hands then expanded to shake her entire body. Nick and Adam pulled her forward and she sagged into their embrace, for a moment letting the whole crazy situation wash around her.

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath, disciplined the chaotic emotions controlling her body and sat back. Concern and stark watchfulness filled Nick and Adam’s eyes. She tried to stand, but they refused to allow her to budge.

  “I need some time and space to work my way through this,” she said.

  Their features hardened as though bracing for pain, then they stood and drew her to her feet. Adam’s fingers curled gently under her chin. “We will fight for you, Sarah. We won’t give up.” Adamant purpose intensified his blue gaze. “Whatever it takes. Whatever your doubts, we will dispel them.”

  Hope arrowed through her confusion and swelled her heart, but the obstacles to the dream of a relationship between them swirled like monsters in her mind and threatened to crush the life out of it.

  “I’ll show you to somewhere quiet,” Marnia said at her elbow.

  Sarah nodded then followed Marnia down a corridor and into a luxurious room. Her forgotten purse rested on an elegant, marble entrance table.

  “Will you be comfortable here?” Marnia asked.

  Sarah let her indifferent gaze roam the room, weightier things on her mind than comfort.

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  The other woman’s features filled with compassion and urgency. “We did what we had to.”

  Sarah pulled a sharp inhalation. “I understand that—and . . . it forces me to wonder if I would sacrifice my humanity to save it. What lengths I would dare.”

  A flash of sympathy glittered in Marnia’s eyes. “You’ve had a trying day.”

  A harsh laugh escaped Sarah and she shook her head. “You know, one thing about discovering aliens—and that I’m one of them—it completely pushed Barclese to the back of my mind for a while.”

  Regret settled on Marnia’s features, her gaze dropped to the floor then lifted. “I am sorry for what was done to you.”

  Sarah d
rew a deep breath, made a determined effort to push aside her resentment and anger and shrugged. “Needs must when the Devil drives, I guess.” She studied the other woman for a moment. A cautious foray of trust towards the Anaconians whispered through her mind. But was that their DNA influencing her thinking or her own thoughts? On the other hand wasn’t she a combination of the two? Always had been. What she previously thought of as herself was still . . . herself. Her thoughts were still her own. Weren’t they? She shook her head in exasperation, second guessing herself would lead nowhere.

  “You will consider our request?” Marnia asked.

  Dark cynicism twitched one corner of Sarah’s mouth. “Given the dire circumstances threatening you and your people I can hardly do otherwise.”

  “Please believe we had no other choice. We could not come forward and announce ourselves to your people. Even now, the populace of Earth is not ready to discover aliens exist, let alone are living amongst them. We hope to simply leave without complication.” Marnia held her gaze a moment longer. “I’ll leave you to make your considerations then. You’ll call your brother?”

  “Yes.”

  Sarah waited for the other woman to leave, pulled her cell from her purse and dialled.

  This should be an interesting conversation.

  The call connected. “Hey, Paul, we need to talk.”

  Every step Sarah took away from them felt like a rip to Nick’s heart. The same soul-destroying coil of emotion carved Adam’s features.

  “Have you initiated sexual intercourse with Miss Rasmussen?” Draken’s unwelcome question pierced the subdued quiet.

  That’s none of your damn business.

  “Does it matter? Sarah loves us, we love her. We won’t be leaving her.”

  A ripple of Draken’s lips revealed sharp, white teeth and his head inclined towards them. “Gentlemen,” he said and left the room, tail twitching.

  The murmur of Marnia’s voice and Draken’s low rumble drifted in from the hallway and a moment later the medic entered the room. Sympathy softened her large-eyed, exotic features. “How are you doing?”

  “Ask us that in a week.”

  Adam’s sandy head tilted towards the doorway. “What reprisals are we in for?”

  “Why would Draken require punishment of you?” Marnia asked, training a thoughtful glance on him.

  “I would have thought it a given. Sarah won’t leave her brother and we won’t leave her.”

  “Sarah has not refused our plea and I have high hopes she will aid us. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement that will be beneficial to her brother.”

  “You mean Draken is prepared to do or offer anything to keep Sarah happy.”

  Marnia’s orange hair floated around her shoulders as she shook her head. “You underestimate him, he’s not as ruthless as you think.”

  Adam’s shrug held a wealth of distrust.

  “Your positions with us are too important,” Marnia said. “If Sarah chooses to come with us, we need you at your stations.”

  Marnia’s gaze ran over Nick and Adam. “Relax. I was not misleading Sarah. Barclese did not succeed in raping her and I detected no sign of his semen anywhere on or in her.”

  Nick drew a huge inhalation, closed his eyes and pressed his clasped hands into his forehead. For a moment he held his breath—Thank Christ for that—then he exhaled a huge amount of tension. Adam’s strong fingers gripped his shoulder in evident relief.

  “That’s why he went after her though isn’t it? He’s had the same genetic modifications as us. He’s a protector.”

  “You are correct,” Kane said, striding into the room.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

  “We didn’t know.”

  What? “Talk sense dammit! Marnia, you and your team perform all the genetic surgery. Of course you would know.”

  “Not this time. I suspect his mother did though.”

  “She was a hybrid with medical expertise?”

  Marnia’s grave nod sent an arrow of concern through him. “Correct. She was the hybrid woman who died of withdrawal from protector semen addiction. She’s why we know of such a thing.”

  “And you didn’t think it worth reading us in on this?” Adam ground out.

  Marnia’s eyebrows lifted. “I had no idea you needed to know. I was not aware that Theron Barclese constituted a threat until I examined him today and discovered his genetic manipulation. I’m sorry.”

  Nick scrubbed a hand over his forehead. “No, no, we’re sorry, we shouldn’t have bitten your head off.”

  “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,” Kane said. “I now suspect he abducted hybrid women. That would explain the Anaconian weapon’s signature when you were attacked, and his wealth. He used their knowledge to develop the technology. If I had known he was involved in any way in Sarah’s life I would have advised you. Of that you can be sure. You know I would not take chances with any woman’s life any more than you would, especially not that of a hybrid woman.”

  “Where is he?”

  Kane surfed an assessing look over him and Adam. “Incarcerated. Where neither of you can reach him.”

  Damn.

  Draken keenly felt the hypocrisy of demanding the protectors be completely truthful with Miss Rasmussen when he himself had not done so. The weight of so much responsibility dragged on his shoulders and he sighed. If it became necessary he would hand himself over to the Denacons and negotiate for clemency for the other Anaconians. After all, the reason they were in such desperate straights was because of him—or rather his original self and the others of his Draken kin.

  A quiver of disgust curled his lip as memories of what they had done to not only their own culture, but also others, shifted through his mind. Remorse of his own actions bit him hard. How could they not have seen how foolish they were?

  Sarah slumped in a padded chair and stared out the French doors leading to manicured lawns bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon sunlight. Her heart felt like fragile crystal shattering from the inside out.

  Did Adam and Nick really love her? How could she have faith in a manufactured love? Surely love, real love, wasn’t something that could be produced by some genetic tampering?

  She dropped her head to the backrest and stared at the ceiling. Tears pricked her eyes and pooled on her lower lids, blurring her vision. How the heck was she to deal with this? Nick and Adam protested their contentment with the situation, but . . . dammit it was wrong! How could she take advantage? It felt too much like receiving stolen property. How could she accept that? She didn’t know how to get past it. She craved their love, but her integrity wouldn’t allow her to accept it.

  A hollow ache drilled into her heart at the cruel way fate seemed to have provided her dearest wish in a warped and perverse way. Sure, they were fine with it now, but wouldn’t they grow to resent her? Already Draken had threatened to cut them from a goal they obviously valued. If she went with them, what more would they have to sacrifice?

  Yet to go with them would mean abandoning Paul. The thought tore at her loyalty and her heart. But how could she ask Nick and Adam to surrender the opportunity to travel to another star system? The idea of freeing them felt like a jagged blade sawing through her stomach.

  If they remained with her, here on Earth, surely that would lead to their resentment of her? She squirmed in her seat at the thought of engaging ‘in sexual intercourse at least once a week’ with one or both of them for the sake of her mental health after their relationship came to a putrefied end.

  She believed they believed they loved her, but she wasn’t so sure. And that was a big ‘if’ to make a life decision on—especially one that could see her far from home. Like building a house of cards in a tornado alley. Her image of a happy future splintered. Pain coiled thro
ugh her stomach.

  And on top of that there’s this business of the whole alien thing.

  Anger at the Anaconian’s treatment of her still weighed on her, but she wouldn’t let petulance, no matter how justified, condemn an entire species. The Foundation was well known for their philanthropic work worldwide. Their treatment of her and others like her might be barbaric, but—she sighed with resigned acceptance—they did have good cause.

  Did the humanitarian reputation of the Draken Foundation reflect the integrity of the Anaconian race or was there good reason for the Denacon’s animosity? Should she help the Anaconians? On the other hand, the genocide the Denacons apparently had in mind seemed a tad extreme.

  She laced her fingers together and brushed them against her lips. Paul’s company could benefit in manifold ways if she chose to help the Anaconians. And with access to their computers she could check the veracity of their account.

  A golden ray of sunshine slanted into the room, fingered a pile of technical equipment jumbled in one corner and glinted on something shiny. She pulled a deep breath, abandoned her spirit-crushing thoughts in favour of a distraction, and rose to pick up the silver-slung vest of a PDS.

  An image of a power supply sprang into her mind and she knelt to rummage through the heap.

  There.

  She sucked her lower lip under her top teeth and searched for tools.

  Not here.

  She lifted her gaze to a dresser. The top drawer slid smoothly open to reveal what she sought. She planted her butt on a couch, and on the nearby coffee table methodically laid out never-before-seen instruments in precise order. She hefted the vest and studied unfamiliar connections that became instantly recognisable. It felt like opening a door to a vast, previously hidden, library in her mind.