None of them except Kate.
They were not the same to her mind, though. She was afraid of them when she had not been before-because they had killed to escape death.
He knew that she believed that they were not wrong to protect themselves, but he also knew that she was torn between that sense of justice and her own people's interpretation of it. And her people did not believe that they had the right to defend their lives with lethal force.
He did not like the direction of her thoughts, but he was at a loss for many moments as to what to do about it. He had the sense that the doubts that remained in her mind as to whether she was right about them or not were a source of comfort. If she had wanted to remove all doubt in her mind, he thought she would have confronted them.
If he was right about that, then it might be worse to force certainty upon her by trying to convince her that they meant her no harm.
He did not particularly want to leave her to dwell upon her anxieties, however, and abruptly gave in to the urge to distract her.
* * * *
It unnerved Kate when Ronan ceased to hover in the doorway and entered her room. She watched him warily as he approached the bed where she lay and then climbed into bed beside her. She stiffened when he reached for her, wary because of her thoughts, but she didn't put up any resistance as he pulled her against his length.
Relief flickered through her when he lowered his head to hers and fitted his mouth against hers. Heat quickly followed it, winding through her as she absorbed his taste and scent with a mounting sense of pleasure. She'd more than half expected him to demand an explanation for her strange behavior.
Maybe he didn't think it was strange, though? Maybe he was just too unfamiliar with human behavior, still, to realize she was acting strange at all?
For a few moments, images flitted through her mind as her brain struggled to reject him in spite of the potent chemical reaction of her body, but the image that finally settled firmly was the Ronan she'd first met in the club, the one that had initiated her 'chemical addiction'. On the most basic level, he was not only familiar, he was deeply desirable to her.
He warmed her from the inside out with his touch. He glided his hands over her body with shaking impatience that found an echo within her. She succumbed to the urge to explore him with her hands as they kissed just as he was exploring her.
And made a discovery startling enough to penetrate the warm haze already enveloping her.
He was naked!
Total confusion sent her mind reeling as he began to strip her clothes away. Between the heated desire he'd already managed to generate and her bafflement, her efforts to help him in ridding her of her clothes was clumsy at best. She cooled as she struggled with the task that should have been so completely familiar to her as to make it unnecessary to figure it out. About the time they finally managed the feat of removing her clothes, though, the answer hit her between the eyes like a sledge hammer.
He hadn't undressed. He didn't need to. None of them did-because they weren't wearing clothing! They made themselves appear to be wearing clothing just as they made themselves appear to be human!
He pulled her close again and kissed her stupid. She resisted the seduction of her senses more forcefully that time, but the results were the same. A distance alarm sounded in her head. The anxiety flickered through her mind that he had other abilities she hadn't even considered, that it might be far more than 'normal' desire he generated within her, more than a 'normal' ability to stimulate the release of the natural pleasure drugs in her mind.
What if, she thought dizzily, he could produce natural chemicals that acted like a potent aphrodisiac?
He wasn't human. He wasn't even of Earth. There was no telling what he was capable of! She certainly didn't have a clue!
Stupid! She had been so unbelievably stupid and arrogant to think she was in control, that she was so intellectually superior to them that she could manipulate them!
She didn't have to try hard at all to submerge her sudden wariness with the reflection that she had committed herself already and that it was too late to turn back. She had to proceed as she'd begun. She didn't think if she had struggled in the other direction that she could've managed it. His kiss and his touch was enough to seize control of her, to master her senses and send her IQ spiraling down to as close to zero as it had ever been. In a matter of moments, she was putty in his hands, completely malleable-worse, eager.
She was so ready for his possession by the time he shifted over her to penetrate her that her mouth was bone dry from gasping for air. She spread her legs eagerly to welcome him, tense with expectation as he settled his hips between her thighs and probed her cleft with his erection. She was dizzy, clinging to him, pulling at him to urge him on, ready to grasp his cock and force it inside of her. She would have if she could have reached it but despite a frantic search she discovered her arms were too short for her to grasp his cock. She uttered a sharp gasp when she felt the head pressing against the mouth of her sex, forcing the tender flesh to yield.
"Oh god! Ronan!" she gasped, thinking 'hurry'.
A jolt rippled through him, but she barely had time to register it before she felt him penetrating her flesh, felt the welcome stretching, the fullness as her flesh yielded to him, enveloped the hard shaft she was so desperate to engulf.
The realization flickered through her mind that she'd said something 'wrong' but she was in no condition to search for the reason it seemed wrong. It was impossible to drag her mind from its focus on the intimate invasion as he drove deeper and began the rhythmic strokes that built pleasurable tension.
The rest of the world shifted out of focus. Awareness of anything outside of the glide inward and out along her channel was peripheral at best, certainly beyond Ronan. His weight on her, the heat that radiated from him along with his scent, the glide of his skin against hers with his movements all added to the sense of being absorbed by him and becoming a part of him, of absorbing him into herself.
The pressure built, spawned a sense of desperation as she reached for the goal luring her. It was a beautiful, wonderful struggle and it still caught her off guard when she was swept up in the rapture of exploding sensation. She sucked in a sharp gasp, bowed as her body seized and then sucked in another sharp breath as the next wave hit her. It amplified her own pleasure when she felt him reach his own zenith and convulse with pleasure.
The draining away of all tension in the aftermath left her with a sublime sense of floating. She savored it when Ronan had shifted off of her and then curled possessively around her, drowsing.
It wasn't until she got up and went to the kitchen a little later to prepare the meal she'd abandoned that it dawned on her that she'd called him by name in the throes of passion-the name she'd given him instead of the one he was currently using.
And he'd noticed. With the best will in the world she couldn't convince herself that he hadn't.
* * * *
Kate wasn't certain what was more unnerving, wandering through the city's seedy underworld, or being escorted by the three Sirians. Ironically, she felt safer with them, in a way, than she would have felt if she'd had to make, or been allowed to make, the trek alone. That was only insofar as her certainty that the Sirians could handle pretty much any kind of attack, though, and that it was highly unlikely anyone would be stupid enough to attempt an assault, crazed on drugs or not.
They made her uneasy, though, especially since she had no idea whether they would be able to grasp the significance of her taking them to such a place for their papers or not.
"Dis not a goot place," Ronan announced grimly, making no attempt at tact by lowering his voice as he surveyed the filthy alley they had turned down.
Pretend she had no idea what he was talking about, Kate wondered? Or maybe she could just pretend she was so intent on finding the place she was looking for that she hadn't noticed the filth, the stench of things she didn't want to identify, or the withered, probably disease ridden, inha
bitants sprawled here and there like figures from a painting of hell?
"I was told this was the place to go," she muttered finally, deciding some response was necessary.
She flicked a quick look at the men surrounding her when she spoke. Ronan was scowling, his expression both angry and deeply suspicious. Both Dax and Jarek were also frowning, but they looked more disgusted and confused than angry.
Thankfully, Kate spied the landmark she'd been told to look for-graffiti in psychedelic shades of blue, pink, and green scrawled against one wall of the alley suggesting the current president do something physically impossible to himself. "I think this is it!"
Relieved that her online contact seemed to know what he'd been talking about, she hurried forward, looking for the steel door with the green, peeling paint. It was only a few yards beyond the 'artwork' and she relaxed a little more and then tensed with anticipation as she reached the door and tapped out the 'code' she'd been advised to use on the hard surface. She flicked a weak smile up at Ronan when the three men crowded around her. Ronan looked downright skeptical and she felt a sinking sensation in the region of her belly.
A scraping sound made the hair on the back of her neck prickle and she jerked her head toward the sound, feeling her heart clench painfully as she stared at the bloodshot eye pressed to the tiny view window. "Yeah? What the fuck do you want?"
Kate gulped, trying to draw moisture into her suddenly dry mouth. "Butt-munch told me I could get papers for my friends here," she said in a hoarse, wobbly voice.
The eyeball shifted to study her 'friends'.
Ronan, Dax, and Jarek all glared at the eyeball suspiciously and sniffed.
After a prolonged, tense few minutes, she heard scrapping on the other side of the door indicating antiquated locks being disengaged and the door opened a few inches. A gun barrel was extended. "You cops?"
The question was addressed to her companions and Kate felt her knees go weak with fear as she awaited a response.
"No," Ronan growled.
Kate had just dragged in a breath of relief when Jarek asked in a loud whisper, "What dis ting? Cop?"
The man with the gun flicked a sharp look at him and then grinned abruptly. "Foreigners, huh?"
"You have no idea," Kate muttered.
The door was opened wide enough to admit them. Ronan eyed the man with the gun like he was considering whether to squash him like a roach or not. Neither Jarek nor Dax looked particularly friendly for that matter.
"It's alright," Kate murmured shakily. "They have to be careful."
"Why?" Ronan demanded brusquely.
"'Cause everybody don't appreciate Raphael's artwork," the guard said dryly. "You got the stuff?"
Kate extended the bag she'd brought. The man snatched it from her and opened it to study the contents-an assortment of trade goods that she'd managed to scrape up for the black market. "There are only three packs of cigarettes!" the man growled.
Kate felt the blood rush from her face. "It's all I could get! They said one per packet and I brought the electronics."
"Well there's only enough stuff here to pay for three."
"I already have my papers," Kate said a little stiffly.
The man eyed her coldly for a long moment and finally shrugged and jerked his head in a commanding motion. A second man stepped from the shadows at the other end of the small room and then a third, both holding weapons, and advanced on them.
The first man moved to the door and bolted it behind them.
"You got any weapons on you?" one of the newcomers demanded.
"We don't have permits," Kate said a little stiffly.
"Well, you won't mind if we don't take your word for it?" the man countered sarcastically, jerking his head at the third man.
Ronan, Dax, and Jarek all stiffened as the man approached her. It was Ronan who spoke, however. "Touch Kat, I break you," he growled in a low, threatening voice.
Kate was surprised when the man halted abruptly and cast Ronan an uneasy look.
On the other hand, Ronan would have made two of the scrawny man-weapon or not.
"It's alright. They just want to be sure we aren't carrying any weapons," Kate said, her voice breathless with the fear that they might yet get mowed down by the men carrying the guns.
"No touch Kat," Ronan reiterated and that time both Dax and Jarek uttered a low, threatening growl.
The man sent his comrades a questioning look. The man who'd admitted them studied Ronan, Dax, and Jarek for a long moment and finally shrugged. "Check the men."
It was as clear as day that none of Sirians liked the man who skimmed a hand over them either but, to Kate's relief, they allowed the search.
She was still sweating with anxiety when they were finally escorted from the room and down a long hallway that looked almost as bad as the alley they'd just left. They ascended a set of rickety stairs to the second floor and then were allowed into a room filled with the fruits of the resident 'artist's' labors. Raphael examined the four of them. "You got the names?"
Kate nodded jerkily and produced the list she'd brought with her-three of the names from the passenger manifest that had been listed as draftees pending location.
Sissy, she'd discovered, had been right. The government had begun 'drafting' colonists when they saw they weren't going to be able to fill the ship with volunteers. The three men had been 'drafted' as farm laborers but had apparently managed to evade the authorities-so far. She just hoped they didn't decide to present themselves at the last minute-or weren't captured.
They were all going to be in deep doo doo if the men showed up after she'd falsified papers for the Sirians!
Chapter Nine
The situation might have been amusing under any other circumstances, Kate thought as the shuttle carried her and her Sirian 'mates' to the space center.
She was pretty sure that at some point over the past week the Sirians had figured out that she knew and yet neither she nor they acknowledged it-as if it would simply go away if they didn't.
Wryly, she admitted to herself that it just might at that-if it wasn't for the situation they found themselves in. It was human nature to adjust to most any state of affairs, after all, a protective mechanism of the mind help cope with even the most dire circumstances without damage to the mind. And she was by no means immune to it.
They had been, to all intents and purposes, living with her since the last time she'd picked them up at the club and she was very quickly adjusting to their presence. Primarily, she knew this was because they'd done nothing to make her feel threatened and reasoning with her instincts wasn't possible.
There were no overt signs of danger and that primitive part of her mind had dismissed them as a threat.
She'd grown so used to having them underfoot and in her bed, in point of fact, that it was all she could do to keep her wits about her to prevent herself from removing all doubt from their minds. That was the only area where the higher functioning portion of her brain still held sway over the instincts.
She could see that they could feel threatened if she made it clear she knew who they were and that in turn could increase her own danger exponentially.
They'd annihilated the security guards sent to kill them, after all. She had no reason to doubt that they would still be just as aggressive in preserving their lives as ever, no matter how sweet and passionate they behaved toward her. The fact that they perceived her as their mate might protect her-and it might not.
She didn't want to find out!
So she had carefully avoided saying or doing anything at all to make it clear she knew who they were. And that need to watch herself was probably the only reason she hadn't succumbed completely to the illusion they'd created to convince her they weren't alien at all, she acknowledged wryly.
Because they were either picking up human behavior very, very quickly or she was getting used to their 'oddness' very, very quickly.
She hoped it was the former because they were about to be put
to the test. She had a bad feeling, though, that it was actually a combination of the two-her growing accustomed and basically ignoring the strange unhuman behavior and the Sirians picking up more human-like behavior from being around her.
They were all about to find out!
Her stomach knotted with anxiety as the shuttle pulled up to the passenger terminal at the Space Center.
She glanced at the Sirians as the shuttle stopped and forced a weak smile. "If we get separated for any reason, don't worry about it. We can meet up again once we're aboard the ship."
Ronan frowned and then lifted his head and stared hard at the busy port. "We will stay close to you."
A mixture of relief and more anxiety flickered through Kate. His 'accent' was still thick, but he was doing well with his English!
"Why we would separate?" Dax asked with just enough suspicion to unnerve her. Well, the question and the fact that his English wasn't nearly as good as Ronan's.
"Ronan should do the talking if possible," she responded before she thought better of it and then added hurriedly. "His English is the best. So it isn't as likely that you'd be misunderstood and get the wrong instructions … about where to go, I mean."
"Fifty credits," the robotic driver enunciated in a flat tone. "Please remove any personal items when you depart the taxi. Exit the vehicle now."
Jarek glared at the robot. She had a feeling that he still hadn't fully grasped that it wasn't a living thing and took exception to being given orders by it.
She sat forward and stared at Jarek expectantly until he climbed out of the open taxi door. Dax shifted across the seat and climbed out behind him and then she and Ronan got out. Her knees felt wobbly as she straightened on the sidewalk outside the space port. Her belly went weightless as it sank in that this could well be her last view of anything on Earth.
Dismay, not anticipation, flickered through her.
She had decided long before she discovered the Sirians that her future was on an alien world-not Earth. Her home world had too many problems to cope with them and it was in everyone's best interests to colonize. As a colonist, she had a far brighter future to look forward to and every person that left Earth made it a little more comfortable for those who stayed.
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